#so instead i have been working or all of them simultaneously and feeling like i wasnt getting anything done

[kk-iki]

thinking about. . .dame simon coming back from a hunt to you, her betrothed.

(very rushed. not proofread. don’t kill me.)

you're not married. . .quite yet. there's still much to do to prepare for the wedding, after all, and with your future wife away in battle for so long, the responsibility of planning most of the wedding has fallen to you.

you're grateful for the work; being a precocious child had spurred your older self into an innate desire, an itch to keep your hands busy. without the occupation of your energy and attention, you felt. . .stagnant. adrift. as though you hadn't done anything to earn your station if you were just idling about all day long.

the other noblewomen had commented that you were so down to earth, that you made them all feel humble with your musings. you tried to ignore how it had mildly stung when you'd been told that you'd still need to invite them to the wedding.

but you're in no place to dwell on it now. instead, you're flitting about from here to there, fretting over as many details as you can jam - pack onto your leaflets of paper detailing everything that needs to happen, not happen, or be considered for happening in order for this wedding to work.

you're vehemently—and politely, of course—declining the proposal to have an ostrich feather aigrette decorate the edifice of chiffon that your veil already is, when you feel it. the shiver in the air, as if every object and living being around you has simultaneously taken in a breath of anticipation and is now holding for dear life. as if the world has screeched to a standstill, the axles of god's sunlit chariot halting in their progression over the sky.

and you know that the ghost has returned home.

you shoot the couturière a firm look before gliding up the stairs to greet your betrothed. the servants skitter by, bundles of fragrant white roses and pale pink hydrangeas bursting from their arms as they pass you. you offer them an inclination of your head that only the one lagging behind notices and returns.

you arrive at the front door just in time, having paused briefly to examine your reflection in the polished shine of a nearby vase. after ensuring the brouhaha of the preparations hadn't smudged your soft, powdery maquillage, you step out to greet your dame.

watching as light pierces through the open doors—because your saintly woman of a mother had insisted on having an estate that faced west, to mirror the setting sun—you do your best not to squint until the silhouette of your betrothed steps through the blinding white, blurred at the edges but nonetheless quite imposing.

your dame.

simon.

you step forward, watching as she bows to you and offers you a hand. "my lady, i've returned."

resting your hand in her open, waiting palm, you give her a nod and a slow, supple smile. "are you unhurt?"

"that is of no concern to you, my lady."

you frown, clearly miffed. that response always means that something has happened. "i am to be your wife, dame simon. everything concerning your well - being is of concern to me."

simon sighs, as if she hadn't quite planned on winning this extra fight in the first place. you beam triumphantly at her acquiesce, handing the leaflets in your arms over to the waiting chatelaine before escorting your knight into a vacant drawing room.

it's only when you enter and pull your hand out of her grasp that you notice that there was blood on her palm, having sliced clean through her glove, and it had smeared the inside of your wrist. she notices it too, clearly, her usual indifferent demeanor faltering like it does whenever the two of you are alone and she can't pretend to not care.

"forgive me," she mutters, her head dipping low to hide her shame. "i should have cleaned up properly before i entered. the fault is entirely my own, my lady."

"nonsense," you tut as you pluck a linen towel from the tabletop pushed near the side of the room. "you have come home a victor. what fault is there to be found, when my wife is thus undefeated?"

from where you stand, you can see her cheeks pinken until the tips of her ears are the color of raspberries. you grin, unashamed, and move to summon a servant to bring you a small bottle of vinegar for disinfecting her wound.

while you wait, you carefully sit her down on the recamier, uncaring for how the dried blood on her tidy black waistcoat flakes off and scatters across the pin - tuck pillows.

"i almost forgot to mention," simon murmurs as she watches you fuss over her, "you look enchanting today, my lady."

you pause from where you're helping her out of her cravat and gloves, lashes fluttering against your cheekbones in mild surprise. you hadn't exactly dressed up today, needing to remain mobile and comfortable with all the rushing around you'd been doing. . .

but you had taken the time to put on a new dress today. it was a breathtaking shade of cloudy pink that had captivated you at first sight, and you had been waiting for the opportunity to wear it from the moment it had come home with you. you'd figured that you'd slip it on today, if only to add an extra dollop of celebration to commemorate your wife's return.

you clear your throat gently, your eyes flitting back down to her offending garments. "do i?"

"simply delightful," simon replies, sincere if not a little indulgent. "like a slice of cake."

you try not to flush at that. you're sure she notices that, too, if her sly little half - grin is anything to go by.

you tug off her last remaining glove and bear witness to the cut across her palm, your brow pinching slightly as you watch a dewy - eyed servant boy scuttle in and set down the tray of supplies you'd requested before scampering off just as quickly.

you make quick work of cleaning her cut, squeezing her hand soothingly despite the fact she hardly flinches when the vinegar is poured over it. brandishing your freshly pressed handkerchief, you carefully bandage her palm with a neat knot and hold her arm up to admire your handiwork.

"you've done a fine job, my lady," she says. "although i'm sure you didn't need me to tell you that."

"no, but it's always nice to hear," you reply warmly, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "come now, my love. there is still much to do in terms of preparations, and you must be out of this waistcoat now that it's been dirtied."

simon raises a slow brow. "is that your way of asking me to disrobe, my lady?"

this time, it's your turn to flush as you sputter an excuse at her and storm out of the drawing room, trying to hide the way your own cheeks have flushed slightly at her provocations with an air of scandalization. you can still hear her laughing as you pace down the hallway. . .why, the audacity of her!

. . .still, you think, although you're well aware it's foolish for a girl your age to think. . .

you're positive you wouldn't want to be wed to anyone else.

© — kk-iki, with love. ♡

[greendragon19]

I have finally finished sculpting my dndads funko pops! Which means I can start painting tomorrow.

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’d like to entertain and enliven you now with the saga of my Slut Era.

I’ve always been a serial monogamist and my shortest long term relationships clocked in at three years. So perhaps that’s why when I finally broke it off with my ex I went insane on dating. Part of it was definitely just that between anxiety and loneliness I wanted to fill up my time.

This happened when I was living alone for the first time, no roommates, just me and my little cat Leeloo. I didn’t want to come home to an empty house so instead I set up dates.

Most of these were disastrous. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea and I had a lot more first dates than second because they’d seen enough, including the one where people aggressively complimented me.

But after a few months I had four people I was seeing simultaneously. I was up front with all of them that things were not exclusive, and they all agreed, so no infidelity took place here, just a lot of hijinks.

Here’s who was on the dating roster:

• An apprentice woodworker that we’ll call Jill. I honestly thought at 26 years old that her being 21 wasn’t a problem age gap and I quickly learned that there was a vast gulf of both maturity and life experience between us. Jill described herself as “heteroflexible” and had just dumped her first boyfriend to flirt it up with me.

• A married woman looking for a friends with benefits. We’ll call her Alice. I insisted on meeting her husband first to be sure I wasn’t part of a cheating mess and he gave me his blessing when I stayed over at her house. Years later when he and Alice had divorced I would go on to sell him and his new fiancée an engagement ring and we both realized at the end how we knew each other and it was wildly awkward. Alice was nice, but a hardcore vegan who insisted I brush my teeth if I so much as ate string cheese before I could kiss her. She was also unhappy in her marriage and was feeling out if I’d want to get serious.

• A bartender dubbed Snakebites, so called because of her signature piercings. She cooked me a steak so raw it was still mooing and some of the best asparagus I’d ever had. In our singular sexy encounter she bit my nipple and I never got over it. Really don't bite someone if you don't know their preference and work up in pressure. We weren’t terribly compatible but neither of us were willing to admit it yet. Truthfully I considered still dating her solely because I desperately wanted her bathroom. It had all black tile, black toilet, black sink, a rain shower in the corner and a jacuzzi tub. I may not have loved her but god I loved that bathroom.

And finally,

• My beloved, who I would go on to marry, who was dealing with a lot of personal stuff at the time. Obviously that meant I liked them the best of all the people I was seeing because we were both disasters at the time.

So that’s the cast of this little misadventure. Now, our story begins with Jill.

Jill was someone who heightened my anxiety. Each of the three times she came to my home she brought and left more stuff. A self help book, a ramen kit, the entire Teen Titans collection of DVDs. It was like she was trying to move in. She also liked to deride my taste in things, frequently calling me a pleb when I mentioned a band or show I liked.

She was working on a gorgeous little decorative table in her woodworking program. The main wood for the top had a beautiful dapple of knots like jaguar spots, and when she showed me a picture I exclaimed how pretty it was.

“Do you want it?”

“Oh- I mean it’s lovely, I wouldn’t mind having it, but you should sell it and make some money!”

But she was adamant. She’d give me the little side table. At about this time, Alice was starting to get awfully lovey for a FWB. I knew she wasn’t happy with her husband but I also knew we were not a good fit. Fun fact: Alice and her husband were step siblings with a pretty hefty age gap. They got together when he stumbled upon a kink photo shoot she’d done with vegetables. None of their family was happy about the relationship but they weren’t related by blood so it was fine.

So I was fending off more overt romantic advances from Alice, and feeling increasingly like I needed to break things off with Jill. Snakebites wasn’t ever initiating communication and I decided to pull a lot of plugs at once.

I ghosted Snakebites, told Alice that I thought we should cool it, and in a move worthy of a rom-com I asked my beloved if I could pretend we were exclusive to put off Jill. They agreed and I texted Jill to let her know that I was no longer single.

I was not prepared for Jill’s response. She. Was. Devastated. She flew off the handle. She’d just been waiting for the right time to tell me how she felt about me! How dare I do this to her!

What about the table?!

“You should keep the table, it’s gorgeous, you’ll be able to sell it, but I don’t expect a free table.”

Silence met me after that text. I worried and fretted and eventually headed home.

There on my doorstep. The table.

It was a small little end table, reeking of oil and polish, but very beautiful. I brought it inside. The little drawer didn’t even have a knob or guide rails. But it did have a handwritten bill proclaiming that it was costing me $500.

“I can’t afford a $500 table, Jill!” I texted.

“Well you kept saying how nice it was. I spent a lot of time on it.”

“I’m not saying it’s not worth $500” (it wasn’t, it was a tiny side table made by an apprentice) “but I can’t buy a $500 table.”

“Make me an offer.”

I stared at the little table. I did actually like it, but I worried about the repercussions of entering into this deal. Hesitantly I typed back, “$300.” I didn’t think it was worth that much but I didn’t want to insult her too badly.

This suited her for the night. But the next day she informed me she needed a new bed, and that she’d take her $300 in credit toward a new mattress. I spent the whole next day basically wrangling with her over what she wanted and eventually she spiked back up to demanding $500 for the damn table.

“Let me just give it back,” I begged. It was not the first, second, or even third time I’d asked to return the thing but this time she finally relented and gave me her address. Since she lived with her parents still I’d never been over.

I called up my beloved and said, “Hey, I need moral support, can you run an errand with me?”

They agreed which is how we loaded up a self help book, a ramen kit, the entire Teen Titans DVD collection, and the table from hell into my little car together. Jill had said to meet her at one o'clock. I intended to drop everything off at noon and be done with this madness.

But while my beloved and I were on the doorstep leaving everything I heard, “Jill? You’re home early,” through the door. Her mom opened it to peer at us in confusion.

“I was just bringing Jill’s stuff back!” I chirped in alarm.

With little tact and a lot of speed we left her with Jill’s collection of things and then I sped out of there like my tail was on fire. I handed my phone to my beloved as I zoomed away instructing them to block Jill’s number. I was free. The tabletross around my neck had been returned.

It was about a month after that when my beloved and I officially began dating exclusively. I had wrapped up all my messy dating threads and it was a relief to be in a relationship again. They went on a trip to Mexico shortly after we made it official.

So I knew they were out of town. But next morning I walked out to my car and beheld a lipstick kiss pressed to the drivers side window.

I was petrified. I had just dumped three girls at once and had an extremely messy back and forth with one of them. Did I have a stalker?!

Of the girls, Alice seemed like likeliest candidate, being of a stronger lipstick variety girl than Jill or Snakebites. We had ended things a bit stiffly, but still cordial. She just laughed when I asked if she knew anything about it. “Nope,” she said, “but good luck.”

I’d rather have walked over broken glass then text Jill, and I’d firmly ghosted Snakebites so I was scared to reopen communication to ask if she was stalking me. I had to drop it. But it haunted me, that lipstick kiss.

For months I was jumpy, wondering which of my spurned lovers had done it. And why. Was it a threat? A goodbye? I lay awake thinking about it, worrying about how everyone I’d dated knew where I lived, which car was mine.

Finally, nothing else happened and I moved on. The kiss would remain a mystery and I had to be content with that.

It was a year later when I finally started filling my mom in on my dating escapades that I finally got closure. She was hooting and laughing as I went over the table debacle. Then I paused and added, “And then this kiss showed up on my car.”

“Did you like it?”

“What? No! I’m pretty sure one of them was stalking me! Who else would leave a kiss on my car?”

My mom started bellowing with laughter. “I did!” She wheezed.

Apparently. My mother had been driving by my place. And decided that a cute little gesture would be to leave me a kiss. And then decided to never mention it to me even though she’s never done anything like that previously.

“It scared the crap out of me!” I yelled while she collapsed with helpless laughter. “I thought I had a stalker! How could I possibly have known that was you?!”

“How could I have known you’d just broken up with three girls at once?” She wheezed in rejoinder and like. Fair play.

So that’s how my mom convinced me I had a stalker and I got out of buying a $500 table.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Dani/Ellie as a member of YJ or Teen Titans.

The team is helping the JL with an all hands on deck apocalypse on earth. They are losing badly. She looks around herself, at the destruction all around her, squares her shoulders and says 'looks like it's time for the nuclear option... DADDY!!!!'

I didn't know if you've seen the post where a scary Danny got summoned instead of Klarion and everyone (heroes and villains) was getting ready to team up because of how scared/intimidated they were. That's the Danny I'm picturing answering his daughter's call for help. Maybe with an equally scary Fright Knight sword already drawn at his back.

The team was struggling with keeping the villains at bay. This was supposed to be a coordinated attack with the Justice Leauge, moving simultaneously on the other world.

Earlier yesterday, the Light had organized for reality to split apart, forming two worlds. One contains children, and the other includes adults, causing the opposite age groups to vanish before the eyes of horrified humans.

To the adults, their kids were taken in a flash worldwide. To children, their parents went missing in the same flash. It was chaotic, and if it had not been for Captain Marvel, they would have never figured out what was happening.

Dani was a little peeved that she was on the child's side, but despite being a princess of the Infinite Realms, her body technically did not form until four years ago. For all intentions and purposes, she is sixteen. So she stayed with Young Justice, following the kid's command and feeling alive.

She may request to be placed on the Team when this is all over. She sends an energy blast towards Klarion, watching the little Lord dodge with a laugh. He sends back a wave of magic that would nearly knock her out of the air if not for her gritting her teeth and digging in her heels within her ectoplasm.

She always hated dealing with the stupid Lord of Choas. They gave her Dad nothing but trouble whenever he called a court. Everything Danny suggested was a challenge on the grounds of attempting to "control" their disorder.

Honestly, Dani preferred dealing with them than the Lord of Order. They were a bunch of self-righteous uprights who didn't care about who was hurt in the process of their justice. At least the Lord of Choas admitted they were monsters.

Oddly enough, she was grateful Klarion wasn't treating her like the princess she was. It made work so much easier when he allowed her to attack him and vice versa.

"Echo!" Robin runs towards her, waving a hand. "Maneuver seven!"

She nods, abandoning her stance to shift her flight path into a large arch. Her hands clasp into a tight cup as she speeds back up into the air. Robin doesn't miss a beat, launching himself at her just in time to press his foot on her clasp hands, using them and her upward rise to launch himself clear across the field to land a mighty kick on Teekl.

It lets out a howl that quickly gathers the attention of the angered Lord of Choas. Seeing her chance, Dani fires more energy blasts, quickly forcing the witch boy into a defensive position.

She pinned him for a few seconds while Kid Flash raced toward the marking on the ground. Dani grunts to shift the ectoplasm in the air into a long beam, firing it straight at Klarion's shield.

A few cracks are forming around the dark red dome, and she is just about to break through when Teekl comes out of nowhere. A roar is the only warning she had before the blasted cat slams into her, claws digging into Dani's side, and she can only scream as the pair fall.

"No!" Kid screams somewhere behind her, but Dani can't turn since she is holding the claws of the large cat away from her and pressing into the ground to stop it from tearing her face off with its fangs. Its sneering face looms over her, snapping at the air, while her arms tremble with the force of holding the large beast at bare.

Getting her wits about her, Dani uses a ghostly wail to get the cat off her. Teekl is flung through the ai,r landing in a heap by Klarion's side.

The witch boy gasps, "Teekl!"

Dani heaves herself to her side, legs turn, and oozes a mix of red and green blood. Teekl had managed to claw at them during the fall, which meant she couldn't stand, let alone fight, for a good while.

Panting through the pain, Dani presses her hands to leg, attempting to put pressure on it. Her vision goes in and out as white-hot fire races up her legs and body. The Team struggles with an outraged Klarion just a few feet away from her.

Dani wishes, not for the first time, that she was a perfect clone of Dani. If she was, she would have all of his powers, including super healing and duplication. Instead, she sits like a heap, an utter liability to the team, as Klarion dances circles around them.

It pains her to do it, but Dani starts to drag herself away from the battle, realizing she needs to put space between herself and the danger. If the Witch Boy or his stupid cat realizes they can use her as a hostage, Dani will never live it down.

She is just about to drag herself to the tree line when she notices Zatanna raise her hand and speak in rapid-fire magic. A nearby bush drops its illusion to show a very familiar helmet. Dani's eyes widened in alarm, and she took it into her hands and slid it right on.

"Zatanna! Wait!"" She hears herself scream, but it's too late. The girl's body has become a vessel for Nabu, the champion of the Lord of Orders. She really hates those guys.

Zatanna rises into the sky, now dressed as Dr. Fate, flickering in and out of sight as the split realities mess with Nabu's anchor.

Klarion taunts him for it, seeing this as a chance to take down the ancient Dr.Fate, but Dani has other plans. Raising her hand, with every last ounce of strength she has, Dani aims one last good ecto-beam towards the crystal in the center of the spell runes.

It shatters the crystal in a thousand pieces, sending a shock wave of magic across the field. Klarion throws a fit, like the immature brat he is, before he calls back his stupid cat, and the two vanish into a portal. If Dani was feeling better, she would have chased after him.

Captain Marvel beams back into their reality, informing them the adult magic casters were all defeated by the Justice League. Everyone breathes a sigh of relief when Dr. Fate and Zatara med the two worlds back together

Superboy rushes over and leaves Dani in his arms, mindful of her wounds. She offers him a soft thank you, which earns her a grunt in acknowledgment. Not one for words, that Conner Kent.

She thinks about the Conner Kent of another universe, this one younger and more arrogant, running around in leather jackets and piercings but a Young Justice member all the same. One day, she should introduce the two. If the fabric of realities didn't fall apart upon their meeting.

Dani is snapped out of her thoughts when the pair get close enough for her to make out what Zatara is begging the Order Champion. Her mouth falls open as Dr. Fate refuses to leave Zatanna's body.

"Kent would never allow-"

"I have sent Kent Nelson's soul to the afterlife." Dr. Fate cuts off Kid Flash with what sounds like a coldhearted taunt to Dani. The way he uses Zatanna's voice makes her skin crawl.

"Take me," Zatara offers desperation in his voice. "My body is at its peak, my magic stronger than my daughters. Use my-"

"No!" Dani shouts, flailing in Conner's arms. Her ectoplasm boils in her veins when she points an accusing finger at the flowing Dr. Fate. "Nah-uh. This is against the law, and you know that, Nabu!"

"You know not what you speak of,child-" The ass tries, but Dani won't hear any of it.

"Long-term overshadowing of any living being is against Infinite Realms law." She sneers, facial features slightly less round and more uncanny with her anger. Around her, the Team is staring wide eyes.

Oh, right, this version of the Team has never seen her proper Phantom form. They only know Echo- named after being the copy of the great hero Phantom- who looked awful like her human form, just color flipped.

Her Halfa form was much more appealing than her entire ghostly appearance.

Dr.Fate crosses their arms. "Against a mortal will. This child willingly gave her body to me in exchange for aid in combat. I broke no law."

"Oh yeah! We'll see what the King has to say about that!" She screams, and finally, Nabu seems slightly worried, but it vanishes quickly as he jolts Zatanna's chin at him. Using her friend like some sort of meat suit.

The nerve.

"The King has better things to do than heed the call of an unimportant child." Nabu hisses, and yeah, she's going to make him pay for that.

"It looks like it's time for the nuclear option, just remember Nabu, the Lord of Order's Champion, you brought this upon yourself." Reaching out with a hand shaped entirely of ectoplasm, Dani launches a blast at Nabu.

The Team screams, Kid Flash's voice rising about the others. "No! Zatanna feels ever hit you land!"

"Echo, stand down!" Batman commands, but Dani doesn't pay them any mind as her attack lands against Dr. Fate's cross shield. She smirked, willing her glowing hand to rip a piece of the shield and fling it back towards her.

Conner nearly drops her as Dani slams the pieces into her leg, allowing them to cover up Teekl's magic. Wobbling her lips and letting the water fill her eyes, Dani lets out a whine and then a scream.

"Daddy, help!"

At once, the field is overflowing with death magic. Every living being in the area- including the animals in the forest- is brought to their knees as a fear unlike anything they have ever experienced digs its way into their very souls.

Conner falls to his knees dropping Dani in the process but she doesn't mind. She is too busy enjoying the way Dr. Fate's entire body has gone rigid as one glowing green eye snaps behind him. Zatanna small figure is no bigger then the pupil of the glowing eye, her body bath in the glow of it's green light and even the moon pales in comparison to the might of it's shine.

The eye quickly gainst a smile, stretched across a row of sharp teeth, then a second eye, a nose, and slowly Danny, King of the Infinite Rleams, forms in front of everyone's eyes.

The sweet smell of terror fills the air as Dani breathes it in.

Danny stares at the overshawed girl, eyes locked on Nabu who is resting just behind the layer of her skin, and glares. "You have brought harm upon my heir."

Nabu is too terrified to move, so Dani puts on a bigger show, letting tears roll down her face as she calls up, "He stole my friend too! He overshadowed her and won't give her back!"

Danny's face clouds with rage. "You have taken my heir's love. Release her."

Woah, hey now, no need to out Dani like that. Blushing, Dani ducks her head as Nabu quickly allows Zatanna to take off the helmet. Danny's large hand reaches towards the helmet, ripping out the spirit of Nabu, who wails in horror as the King drags him towards a portal. "You shall face trial for these actions."

"No! Mercy, your majestic, it was for the purpose of order!" The ghost cries, but his pleas fall on deaf ears as skeleton ghosts burst out of the portal, dragging the kicking and screaming ghost through. The portal slams closed with a loud crack, Nabu's screams echoing across the field.

Danny turns his large head towards the cowering group of mortals before the pointy-dark features of death melt away into a warm human face. It's a whiplash of change as the air shifts to comfort and personified sunshine when the King smiles. "Dani, I just wanted to let you know how proud I am you joined a hero team. Visit home a little more often and bring your friends."

"I will, Dad. Thanks." She beams back as Danny's large finger presses into her side, and his healing magic overflows her body. He does the same to all of her teammates and Justice League co-workers.

They are too petrified to move or thank him for the healing, but neither is Phantom Mind.

Danny nods, winks, and then vanishes like he was never there. Slowly, sound returns to the world- the leaves rustle in the wind, and animals begin to chirp.

"Well," Dani starts, climbing out of Conners's arms and dusting her outfit. "Who wants victory fudge?"

She gains a lot of round-eye looks, and when no one answers, she sighs, "I guess we can do victory pizza instead. But I demand one kind of sweet, or I'm going home to my father to complain."

[ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat]

legally single - spencer reid x fem!reader

on a walk of shame after a frankly devastating breakup, reader gets stopped by coworker spencer reid and he offers her a ride home

genre: hurt/comfort wc: 1.1k warnings: break up, reader wears makeup and heels, mention of vomit, unhealthy coping, protective spencer, anxiety a/n: based off the beginning of legally blonde!!! yes i wrote this instead of my requests

Heels click on the damp sidewalk in a way that feels mocking. Like a toddler, you sniffle with a humbling pout on your pink lips. You ignore the burning in your feet because you fear it’s your punishment for having so much faith in a person. It’s ridiculous, you know, but if it wasn’t for blind optimism and high expectations you probably wouldn’t be crying on the side of the road. But you don’t know if it’s fair to hate yourself for something that’s not actually your fault at all. You’re not the one who uttered the words I think we should break up. No, that was him.

Unsympathetic too.

Each syllable took an eternity to actually fucking leave his lips. Like it was all an elaborate plan to humiliate you publicly. Or at least that’s what it felt like.

It was a long relationship that ended neatly with one very simple sentence. It feels like a cosmic joke created only for the purpose of you becoming the butt of some–any–joke. Unfair.

Every car that drives by ignores your presence. To them you probably look like you’re taking a walk of shame. Maybe, in a way, you are. One car doesn’t ignore you, though. An old one that’s white or pale yellow. You barely finish the thought that it looks familiar before you see the figure behind the wheel.

He calls your name but you don’t respond. It was embarrassing enough when you were alone.

“Do you need a ride?” he asks.

You just keep on walking. His eyes flick down to your shoes, dampening against the wet concrete. You can’t even remember when it rained last. He doesn’t let you go, slowly driving alongside you until you answer.

An answer he’ll get.

“Go home, Spencer,” you grumble, squeezing your hands into fists at your sides.

Unfortunately, he knows you. “You’ll ruin your shoes.”

He’s right. But you’re not happy about it.

You get in the car, never once allowing your eyes to meet his purely for the very big reason that you’re humiliated. Because of how he does nothing but simply drives, you think he’s okay with the silence. Awkward silence is discussed so often that every time nobody speaks, you feel uncomfortable. This might be the first time you’ve been comfortable in the quiet.

Whatever that means.

The silence only lasts so long, however.

Spencer glances at the smeared makeup under your eyes. “You don't need to tell me what happened but… just know that I’m sure you're better than whoever you're crying over.”

Your eyes finally and cautiously meet his.

That boyish look that shows that he simultaneously wants to make you feel better and show he cares makes your heart sink. You hate yourself for feeling. For having a reaction to what’s surely a friendly gesture. Your stomach swirls with uncertainty.

You know he cares about you, that much is obvious just by how he acts around you. Almost like he has to physically restrain himself from stepping between you and something potentially dangerous. The small kink is that, for him, everything is a threat of danger.

His mind works in a way you’ll never understand. One simple scenario has hundreds of outcomes, each one of them assessed by him in detail. With that ability, he’s able to create alternate realities within his brain. Some of which are affected by his fears. If he can think it, it can happen. So he puts himself a few sacred steps in front of you. Every time.

Because, if anyone was getting hurt, he'd rather it be him. It’s simpler that way.

So, yes, he cares about you.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

It’s like the words register in him differently than they would to someone else. Because he looks at you like he wants to fix you so you never have to say thank you like that ever again.

You never thought you’d want a man to fix you.

The eyes you know so well seem to follow each microexpression on your face. While driving.

Somehow.

The familiar lead-up to your apartment building makes your stomach curdle. In a way that makes you feel like an expired bag of milk. You’re not sure why.

You think you might throw up.

That is, without company. 

Every time you look at the man to your left, you feel oddly at ease. Maybe he could be of service tonight. You mean, you haven’t been alone with a guy since you started dating your ex.

Ex.

It’s when he stops the car that you can’t hold it inside. The worst he can say is no.

“Spence… I really don’t want to be alone…,” you pause for a beat, looking down at your heels, “would you maybe want to come in?”

Your eyes anxiously survey his, searching for whatever it is that means he’ll say yes.

“Just for a minute?” you ask.

The gold in his irises is almost completely swallowed by his pupils, blown wide to accommodate the darkness. He considers it with a bitten bottom lip. His jaw stays stiff until he finally nods.

You try to hide the relief lacing your sigh and just get out of the car. After any emotional day, your advice is to simply go the fuck to sleep. Perhaps it's hypocritical of you to write that advice off as not relevant in this case. Perhaps you’re acting out because you think it’ll make everything go numb. It’s as if you have no control over your body because you know this is a bad idea. You know you shouldn’t be inviting your coworker up to your apartment when you’re in such a vulnerable state.

But you just don’t care.

When your feet hit the first step up, you can’t think of another way you’d be taking such a step. Having Spencer here feels like you have something tethering you to the outside. So you’re not just lonely in a place where you once were in what you thought was love.

That never meant Spencer belonged here, though.

His very presence makes you feel softer but it makes him feel indescribably lost. He wishes he could read the situation better or maybe even have the courage to ask you. His silhouette lingers in the open doorway like he knows he has a decision to make. A decision he would’ve made better any other time. 

But it’s after ten pm and he never said he was strong.

[headdinthewall]

MAKE UP OR MAKE OUT ── a.buttle ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

summary : you’ve been feeling neglected by alfie recently, causing a falling out and a satisfactory make up a/n : sorry i haven’t posted a story in a while, i’ve just been a bit burnt out and this week has been really busy for me. hoping to be back to regular uploads now though! content : established relationship ,, arguing ,, a little bit of angst ,, suggestive sexual content

───��─── YOU’D BEEN ON your feet all day for the past two days, constantly running errands, doing gardening and housework, all going unappreciated and unnoticed by your boyfriend.

You’d been living with him for five months now, and at first he acknowledged every little chore you did around the house. But now? Nothing. You were starting to think he’d gotten a little too comfortable having you around and having a girlfriend so willing to do housework.

You also had a small office job as a secretary, which was proving to be very stressful and demanding as of right now, as constant calls came in and meetings were needing to be booked and you had to make sure all was well and good within the working environment.

All you wanted was a break. Just thirty minutes to an hour of peace and quiet where you could kick your legs up and stick a couple of episodes of FRIENDS on in the background.

Alfie was streaming again. Recently, it seemed like his entire life was revolving around media content and providing for his fans instead of providing for you.

You could hear him upstairs as you cooked dinner — penne pasta, gravy and soft baby carrots. It was an easy dish to make and tasted good.

You grabbed two plates and put them down with a little more aggression than you usually would.

A few moments ago, Alfie had come downstairs, and your face lit up, convinced he was coming to help as you were unloading the dishwasher while cooking dinner simultaneously.

Did he help?

No.

He just shoved his phone in your face to show you a video he had found particularly funny and then walked back off upstairs.

It had thoroughly annoyed you and you were not in the mood to deal with him this evening.

You drained the pasta and carrots, loading it onto the bowls and then drowning it in gravy. You dropped a spoon into his serving and walked up the stairs, throwing the office door open.

“You scared me a little.” Alfie chuckled as he uncovered one ear from his headphones.

You said nothing, putting the steaming hot bowl on the desk in front of him.

“Thank you, beautiful.” He said, holding his bowl up to show his stream what you had brought him. “Some sexy, sexy pasta with gravy.”

userone OMG READER HEYYY

usertwo READER WE’VE MISSED YOU

userthree chip and ab having housewife gfs is incredible rizz

userthree looks like slop mate

“Oi, don’t be dissing my missus cooking now, it’s banging food.” Alfie ‘scolded’ the chat, and then turned to you, “You alright?”

“No. Not alright.” You murmured, turning and walking to the door.

“No?” He frowned, spinning on his chair, “Why?”

You just shrugged, walking out and closing the door behind you.

The TV played the repetitive lines of FRIENDS as you rewatched the show for the 50th time on your life, feet kicked up on the sofa with the dinner bowl in your lap. You blew on the piping hot pasta before eating it, basking in your lonesomeness. You should’ve been upset, crying even, but you were so tired that you couldn’t bring yourself to.

After an hour of doing absolutely nothing and finally having the time to sit and do fuck all, Alfie came down. You felt his eyes on you, but you gave him no acknowledgement — just as he had been doing to you.

He grabbed your now empty bowl from the coffee table and took both onto the kitchen. You expected to hear the clattering of dishes and then for his footsteps ascending up the stairs to follow, but you didn’t.

You heard the tap run for a prolonged period of time and then the sound of ceramic on metal as he supposedly loaded the bowls onto the drying rack.

Alfie walked back into the living room, sitting beside you and sighing, “I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“Uh … I don’t really know, to be honest. I just know that you’re mad at me—“

“You’re constantly making content, Alf. I understand that it’s your whole thing now, buts it’s exhausting feeling like I’m not your top priority anymore. Like, I wake up and you’re already vlogging, or I come upstairs and you’re streaming. I’ve been doing everything recently—“

“But we both agreed to that—“

“Don’t.” You dry laughed, “Don’t interrupt me while I’m speaking because I’m pissed off enough as it is. I have been doing everything in this house, and I know that was the agreement, but it would be nice if you could actually acknowledge the fact that I keep this house tidy. It would be a fucking dump if it weren’t for me, because you don’t clean up after yourself!”

“Is that what you’re mad at? Because I don’t clean up?”

“Oh my days, you’re just not listening to me!” You huffed, standing up and storming upstairs.

“Oi, come sit back down!” Alfie exclaimed, “Reader! Sit back down!”

“No! You don’t listen to me, Alfie! If all you got out of that conversation is that I’m mad at your messiness, then I’m not talking to you anymore!”

He followed you upstairs, “But the conversation isn’t finished so I haven’t had the chance to hear everything you’ve got to say!”

“I already said what I need to! You don’t appreciate the work and effort I put in to this relationship and this house! I’m like a side chick compared to your work!”

“No you’re not!” Alfie groaned as you stomped into the bedroom, “Listen to me, please.” He grabbed your shoulders, “You are my top priority, okay? Nothing else. I’m sorry, if you feel neglected by me and like I’m putting work first, I don’t mean to do that to you.”

“It doesn’t matter what your intentions were, what matters is the fact that you’ve done it.” You argued.

“What do you want me to do, reader? Like, talk to me now, what can I do?” He practically pleaded with you.

“Notice what I do for you! The fact that I haven’t complained once about you not eating dinner with me anymore!”

“You can come and sit with me—“

“But that’s the problem, Alf. Everything is content to you.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair, “I just want us to be able to talk and chill without it being for media purposes or anything like that.”

He nodded, seeming to finally understand where you’re coming from.

“Okay. Okay, I’m sorry, yeah? For making you feel like a second option and for taking you for granted. I do recognise everything you do and I appreciate it more than you could ever imagine, darling.”

“Promise?” You muttered.

“I promise you.” Alfie said firmly, kissing your forehead. “Tomorrow, we can do absolutely nothing, ‘kay? We can stay home and … bedrot, or whatever you call it.”

You giggled softly at his use of your vocabulary, “Sounds like heaven.”

He leant down, placing his lips on yours.

Your lips moulded together, both of you walking until your knees hit the edge of the bed and he followed you down onto it.

“Do you want to? I don’t mind if not, you’ve been tired lately, so I completely understand if you just want to sleep.” He said sincerely, tucking hair behind your ear.

You smirked, “Only if I get to do nothing and lie down.”

“Like you ever do anything different.” Alfie snorted, pulling the duvet over the both of you and attaching his lips to your neck.

He took his time exploring and pleasuring you, lips and tongue bringing you to that familiar height only he ever seemed to bring out of you.

alfiebuttle posted a story !

no content today lads, having a day off with the lady x

(cry about it)

[just-null]

pet..... pet au....? you have.... a pet au for the clones....?

PLEASEEEE SHARE SOME THOUGHTS AB IT😭😭😭😭❤️ I was reading a pet au Hantengu fic way back when and the person never got past chapter 3 and it's been rotting my mind. I love love love pet aus when the dynamics are just right and not weirdly predatory with the pet characters and I love your little ideas for stuff🤗🤗 Share if you feel like it, I'll be eagerly awaiting.

(Also please don't exclude Zoha in this endeavor I love that little man)

The Hantengus!! A lot of cat boys..

Context behind a lot of the language in my pet au!

[Cw! Angst(?), referenced sedation, obsessed catboys.. yandere behavior]

Upon meeting them, they're veryyy excited and sweet on you, to the point where they seem TOO familiar. As if meeting a long distant lover.. With their overly friendly greetings, all the warnings and caution from staff seem like an exaggeration, if not a complete lie.

Records show that they're not even related despite sharing eerily similar features, and having only met not too long ago. You'd never guess by how they're so perfectly coordinated. Using said coordination, they simultaneously surround you.

Constant brushes, crowding, wanting your hands on them so bad, they take whatever you're holding. It's not uncommon that they begin purring just because you're around. They quickly flip from being sweet to eager entitled of your time if allowed.

To say they're overwhelming is an understatement, but the staff practically beg you to help with the bunch.

The boys aren't complaining! They're extremely pushy and insist on staying at your place instead of the hybrid shelter, maybe a few times a week? Please!? Regardless, if you say no, you might find them in your home—and a patched up broken window—when you've been gone a while.

Ah— if you hear knocking at your door, just don't tell anyone that they're here, yeah..? Y'know what? How about you just forget about answering it at all!

Sekido is tolerant when you're around. All the fire left his body, leaving small smoldering embers. His flare ups are only a real issue if there's someone unfamiliar around or giving you a hard time. Otherwise, he's pretty content with lazing about or helping with any work you have. He likes being of use to you. He gets irritated, stressed, when you lift a finger, a habit you can tell he's used to, and swats at you for any bad habits you have. Though that goes out the window if your hand's on him. It's a wonder if he's more of a dog than a cat until he starts scratching. He's just really tired.. Karaku is mischievous but doesn't cause trouble. At least, not like he used to, not as long as he has his daily dose of you. It's like he did a complete switch, the staff say, smiling randomly and rambling in an airy tone about how this is heaven on earth! How could anyone feel down around you? It must be those charms of yours. Staying indoors is okay, but he constantly nudges you to go out with him, or entirely dragging you out. Show him around places you like to frequent so you two can experience it together, maybe have some souvenirs? Wouldn't that be fun? On the days you decline, you can find him staring at the little trinkets from past dates with fondness. Urogi always has so much he wants to tell you. He can honestly talk and pace for days without stopping if it'll keep your attention. If it doesn't, he WILL cry. His mind is faster than his mouth, and stories end up garbled and hard to follow.. Sometimes, they aren't about this life, and when referring to you, it's like he's remembering a version of you.. It always ends the same. His expression gets bleak then snaps back to blissful. A content smile replacing the strained one he wore prior as he embraces you, taking a moment to feel your weight against his. Aizetsu sits in corners and watches you through cracks in the door. You can find him somewhere in your room or general area.. looking at you.. his pupils so dilated that you barely see the blue ring at the edge. He can stand still for hours until you get up or reach for something. He's already got it for you. He's combative with Sekido for that service role. Unlike his "brother," Aizetsu's movements are measured, rushed. Like something will be taken away if he doesn't act fast, so he one ups everyone and reads you before you even ask for something. Zohakuten is annoying but doesn't try to give you a hard time. He's the most demanding, always extending his arms for you to come over and hug him. At first, you can feel the tension he holds all over his body, digging his claws into your side, then like goo, he melts. It's a double edged sword since letting go makes him twice as irritated as before. He'll brat occasionally, pushing something off a counter or banging on the windows, yelling at the stranger on the other side to get lost. No one is the victim of this more than the other four. Whereas Zohakuten would start a fight with anyone else, he just annoys the other four.

The weariness hangs heavier in their eyes than the usual hybrids, but they dont like talking about it in detail. As you could guess, prior to this overwhelming clinginess, there were rivers of agonizing desperation.

———

In this life, the boys didn't have the liberty to grow up together like usual. They were born of different parents scattered throughout the region. This wasn't the first time it happened, but they hated when it did, especially Hantengu.

Each second Hantengu's away from his boys is agony. He spent so long waiting for them to be reborn just so that they're so far away!? All he can think of are the possible ways he might die and restart the damn cycle without even having the chance to see you. He's been alive for a while now, but he's too terrified to go far on his own, so he's barely made any progress!

What if something happens and he doesn't even get to meet you? now THAT would be a fate worse than the cycle.. His caretakers are stumped on what to do with him. Any attempt at calming him down were met with opposition.

The boys are as you expect. They kept acting out in hostility and showed no sign of calming down the longer they're apart. Being moved from shelter to shelter didn't help, neither did getting handled like feral animals even if, in a way, they were.

Only the thought of you kept them going, so did the knowledge that if they found you, there's a high chance they'd find each other. You always seemed to fix everything just by being there, didn't you? So they kept hopping from shelter to shelter, some familiar, some new.

Hantengu was the first to end up in the hybrid shelter near you, then the others trickled in. It would've been decades since they've last seen each other, and based on how they're fairing, no one had it easy.

Sekido was a stray trying to stay out of shelters altogether. He did his best to keep his features hidden, both gathering info about you and the others. He made good progress, pretending to be a potential housing candidate, but he'd always get hostile with people eventually, exposing himself and having the authorities called to force him into a shelter. Each time, it felt like prison because of all the restrictions and drugs.. Like hell if this was gonna stop him. Once his limbs stop feeling like jelly, he's going to find a way out of this damn place!! Again!! In his wait, at least he can pass the time by thinking about his favorite memories of you. Karaku was mostly alright, but transferred often because his very presence made the behaviors of those around him worse. He always used the "I didn't throw the first punch" excuse, but never mentioned his constant goading and spreading seeds of doubt about forgiveness that led to agitation amongst his peers. Not only towards other hybrids but staff as well. Call it sadism or nihilism, but Karaku's favorite pass time was making everyone believe that these rehabilitation shelters were nothing but a waste. The dull, empty eyes staring back at them proved it. In reality, Karaku took pleasure in the fragility of other hybrids. It took the edge off of his own anguish. Urogi always talked about you no matter where he ended up, usually causing a wave of eye rolls. But there's always that one hybrid who doesn't know how to keep their thoughts to themselves. Thus starting Urogi's rampage, watching the red streaks of other hybrids drip down their wounds, spitting at them for daring to talk bad about you. Then came the forced transfers. He loved it, honestly. His mind floated, feeling like he was a bird again, flying to you.. then the plummet when the drugs wore off that he didn't enjoy as much. With a renewed sense of determination and a strong longing for his wings, he began yapping again. Aizetsu, like Sekido, hid his features, calm enough to stay hidden. He kept to himself, mindlessly walking anywhere and everywhere with the tiniest grain of hope that he might find you there. No terrain, weather, or event would stop him from trudging through miles of land, following his intuition to where he thinks you could be. He'd be so focused on you that he'd go days without water or food, feet covered in blisters from the endless dragging across the ground before everything went dark. Waking up in a shelter always reminded him how disappointing his body was for collapsing on him. Hm.. he'll stay and recover for now, once he feels ready, he'll take some food and go again. Zohakuten raised hell, frequently ending up in confined spaces. Because he was young, he had more restrictions to ensure his safety. That only made escaping a huge hassle.. He hated being treated like a foolish boy when he's been through horrors worse than adult scissors! The confinement and restrictions ended up being for everyone else's safety after staff realized how common Zohakuten destroyed and mangled anyone in his vicinity. A familiar prick on his skin came after his small bruised hands demolished the common area, then the heaviness of his limbs settled in. Loud thumps came from the deepest part of the shelter as he banged on the walls to be released once the drugs wore off.

Their status as "lost souls" is no secret when they began tormenting anyone who tried to house them and the employees. It seems they've met the other lost and guiding souls in the shelter before with how they interact. For better and worse, at least the guiding souls temper their mischief.

They try forming a plan on how to find you next if this shelter doesn't show any results. It'd be faster to get transferred now that they're grouped up. And like the heavens opened up, they quickly realized that won't be necessary anymore once they catch a glimpse of the light they yearned for these three recent lifetimes, you. It's you.. You!

Any and all complaints are cut short when they make a habit out of gathering near the front glass of the shelter, waiting for you to walk in or pass by. Their demeanor shift is so sudden the caretakers worry they might've accidentally dropped some pills into their food. It's not like that, unless your presence counts as a drug!

[lustlovehart]

Guess who’s birthday it is today (me <(￣▽￣)>)!!! With it, some random brain blurbs i’ve thought about but never had the time or creative thought to flesh it out.

- Yandere! Twst Final Survivor scenario!!! Maybe it’s a reunion with the cast, a couple of years later after graduating from NRC. You’re running circles around each group, making conversation with all of them about their successful lives. Though… no matter how hard you try to ignore it, there are always a pair of eyes following you around wherever you go… It isn’t until the party’s end that this feeling of dread becomes impossibly heavier, with even more eyes watching you. Why? Ace accidentally lets it slip that everyone there has had a thing for you at some point. It’s silent, yet you laugh it off. Even if that really is the case, it’s been years, there’s no way any of them still have those feelings for you right? When you finally head home, something eats at you… a feeling, of fear about turning around the corner. It’s most likely your imagination… it’s dark, quiet, and you’re alone. There’s nothing there—

Cue finding Ace and Deuce, dead. To which it’s your job to find out who did it while simultaneously keeping yourself alive. Unbeknownst to you, the killer would never do that to you… because you’re the only one he wants. In my head there were two ways it could go, with the first being eventually everyone from the party is murdered because of their feelings for you, you and the killer being the last remaining. The second is a brawl, with instead of one, everyone ends up being a killer trying to take out their rivals. It’s a bit harder though considering they have to be alert about being murdered and murdering. In this case, I like to think Deuce and Ace purposefully faked their death to get everyone fighting each other, so then they could take you away without anyone noticing :))

- Yandere! Hero x Villian Reader?!?!? Everyone in the world knows about you and their beloved hero’s rivalry. You rob a bank, blow up an orphanage, litter in the ocean, even attempt world domination—! And yet he’ll still stop you. On the cameras, you’re always beaten and bruised, with their symbol of hope equally damaged and battered, yet you somehow, always end up escaping last minute. No, matter how many times though, he’ll face the camera with his swoon-worthy face (that leads many of their fans squealing) and pridefully declare he will stop at nothing, to make sure you’re captured in his arms. Little does anyone know, they’re not lying about you being in his arms. Because behind that facade of justice, those cameras… out the reach of any press, In the middle of your dastardly deeds, he’ll have you pinned down.

Not declaring for you to stop your villainy... But for you to take him back. He’ll stop all your attempts at blowing up innocent neighborhoods with one hand, burying his head in your chest as he asks why you broke up with him. Did he not stop your evilness well enough?! But he really loves you with all his heroic heart! He’s still a hero—! But when nobody’s watching… he’s taken down other heroes trying to interrupt your evil! See? He’ll feed into your mischief just let him kiss you again…! He doesn't seem to understand the whole reason you’re a villain in the first place… Is to get him to stop obsessing over you!!!

I like to imagine this concept with Floyd, Azul, Malleus, or even Riddle/Rollo!! It could also work as another harem idea where multiple heroes are trying to have this specific villain all for themselves. For Hsr I genuinely think it would be so interesting with any of the guys. Because i’m in love with him, I love the idea of Blade being a deadpan hero, who genuinely seems like he should be a villain... Obsessed with Villian reader.

- Serial Killer Boyfriend x Reader!! (Originally, if you could guess, I thought about Jade for this 💀 but anyone else could work too!) he originally started this relationship with you entirely for the idea of dismantling those pretty limbs and creating a fun masterpiece… He’s done it to multiple partners so it really shouldn't be any different with you, and yet… Unfortunately, killing you is now the last thing on his mind. Instead, he takes out the urge to kill on your friends… until you finally find out he’s the one slowly plucking off each close friend of yours. He never would’ve assumed though… while his darling lover may not be a cold-blooded killer… they’re certainly not normal…

To which you tell him, you want him to plan your murder 20 years from now, so then your death will be a mystery for years to come. When he asks you why you would want him to do that, you tell him you’re absolutely terrified of his crimes, yet love him so much, that he’d be the perfect perpetrator for the plan you’ve been hatching for years. (Synopsis, He’s a crazy murderer, you’re a crazier lover).

- Fluffier (or angstier 💀) scenario, where you’re a Ghost, and [Insert chara] who’s an exorcist (I like to imagine Riddle for this hehe) falls hopelessly in love with you. Maybe it wasn’t even a mission, he just moved into a new flat and found a ghost living there. Your presence isn’t very strong, if anything, it’s incredibly weak. Your appearance has ripped clothes partially covering your face, hiding your identity. You sort of just sit there, an occasional scare through the window of his poor neighbor. He’s already preparing to exorcise you before you somehow gain power and wreak havoc on the living. Yet a cold touch has him freeze, preparing for any sudden movements from you. If you try anything, he’ll make you disappear on the spot. He watches your transparent freezing hand covers his, your body lowering down until your head is rested where he kneels. For a moment, he imagines that you’re warm instead of cold.

“I don't... Want to disappear…” … All ghosts say that. There’s no reason he shouldn’t go through with it, you’re no different. He's about ready to rid his home of your existence until you shift, allowing your face in full display. “I’ll miss you even more.” … There’s no doubt. You may have sunken eyes and features of the dead, but it’s you. His friend who mysteriously disappeared, and whom he had the most insane crush on for years. And the rest of the plot is basically him trying to find out who murdered you and how so you can peacefully move on. Orr, for a happier side, he attempts to find a way to bring you back to life so you can live the rest of your youth that was so cruelly taken from you.

Honestly, Ace and Deuce could also work for thisss.

[humanpurposes]

Hi hiiii I couldn’t resist to not slide into your inbox and request a Christmas fic based on this prompt with a Aemond who isn’t used to his girl’s flirty behavior and gets flustered soo easily👀 you can totally ignore this if you don’t like it<3333

“Since I can’t ride in Santa’s sleigh, can I ride you instead?” “Sorry, what?”

HI RUE ✨ Kinda put my own spin on this but I'm sure you'll love it <3

Can I Ride You Instead?

modern!Aemond x reader

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: smut, Aemond being a workaholic while his girl has needs

A/n: It's tiiiiime, happy 1st December!!

Main Masterlist // Christmas Masterlist

One more night in King’s Landing. You look out from the window at the lights in the city; street lamps; lively pubs; offices that have been abandoned until new year; and all the festive lights lining the highstreets. Conquest Street is your favourite place to be this time of year. You love the displays in the shop windows, the market in the square, the little wooden huts selling scarves and handmade jewellery, the smell of mulled wine, sugar and cinnamon, almost tangible in your nose and on your tongue. What you wouldn’t give to be there right now.

Aemond’s apartment is bleak by comparison. He doesn’t see the point in decorations, not when he’ll be spending Christmas at his family’s estate– at Dragonstone, Christmas is Alicent’s territory. Aemond’s place is clean, lit by lowlights with no bursts of colour or fairy lights and no tree.

He’s sitting at the dining table. The cold glare of his laptop shines over his face and reflects in the lenses of his glasses.

This boy never takes a break.

Term technically doesn’t end until tomorrow but everyone you know has already gone home to make the most of the break. Not Aemond. He wants to stay for as long as possible. He doesn’t talk about his family much, but you can put pieces together. You booked your own train ticket home according to his because you could think of nothing worse than leaving him alone on the run up to Christmas.

“Sit down, you’re making me anxious,” Aemond says, not looking up from the screen.

He’s been on the verge of irritation all day. You’re in the kitchen trying to make hot chocolate? Too much noise, he says. You’re at the dining table wrapping presents for your parents? Too distracting.

You take slow steps across the floor, behind his chair, draping yourself over his shoulders. He’s working on some project for an internship and simultaneously trying to get ahead on the research for his dissertation.

You love how he looks when he’s focused, the frown that means he’s utterly absorbed in what he’s doing. It’s not quite so endearing when he could be focusing on you instead.

Your arms wrap around him. He pushes his glasses up and puts a hand over yours, a featherlight touch. You want more.

“It’s getting late you say,” letting your lips ghost over his temple.

“It’s not even six.”

“You should take a break. We could order food?”

“Yeah, when I’m done with this, I just need to–”

“Aemond.”

Your arms fall away from him and he looks up at you with a slow breath. His expression is soft, his eyes slightly hooded, his lips fallen. He knows he's upset you.

“Aemond, it’s our last night together before Christmas.”

He shuts the lid of his laptop and leaves his glasses on the table. As much as you love how he looks with them on, there’s something about the unobstructed view of his face that never fails to take your breath away. Especially his eyes, one blue, one glass and made to imitate a sapphire, framed in a neat scar running down the left side of his face, an injustice of childhood.

He leans forward, snaking his hands to your waist, pulling you in towards him. 

It’s an unfair move really. Suddenly all you want to do is run your fingers through his silver hair, tilt his chin up, hold his face in your hands.

“You’re right, darling,” he says, stroking his thumbs in circles where they fall against your belly. You feel the pressure of it through the knit jumper you wear. “Let’s go out. Pub? Restaurant? What’s the market thing on Conquest Street, didn’t you mention that a while ago?”

“It’s a bit late to go out now, I’d have to get ready.”

“We’ll stay in and watch a Christmas movie then, yeah?”

“I didn’t think you’d be in the mood for something festive.”

He makes a quick face. Not that long ago you’d tried to get him to watch The Muppet Christmas Carol, and he was far from impressed. What horrors will you have in store for him next? “Whatever you want. I want whatever you want.”

You coax him to the sofa, big and plush and expensive. Aemond throws a blanket over the two of you and with a few taps of his phone arranges the food. Without much deliberation you put on Love Actually, meeting Aemond’s eye with a wide grin.

He hides his face in his hands but survives the ordeal.

By the time the credits are rolling it’s not particularly late, but you’re dreading the morning. You’ll have to wake up early, pack a bag, then you and Aemond will go to the train station together and go your separate ways until the new year. A whole two weeks apart.

You cozy up to him, breathe in the smell of his aftershave.

“What now, another film?” He asks, trying to find the remote.

Another idea pops into your head. “We could do something else?”

Aemond catches your eye, trying not to smile. “Now let me think, what else could we possibly do, hmm?” He’s awful at playing coy and has been since the moment you met him. He’s too observant, too intent on the details to play dumb.

“Well,” you say, tracing fingertips along the material of his sweats, over his thigh, “since it is the season, and I can’t ride Santa’s sleigh, can I ride you instead?”

His mouth bursts into a messy smile. “Sorry, what?”

You mean to huff out of annoyance but it comes out like a laugh. “I’m trying to be cute!”

Aemond takes your chin in his fingers and your body freezes. “You really don’t need to try,” he says, and leans in to capture your lips with his.

The way Aemond kisses makes you melt every time. He’s slow and commanding, like he’s savouring every precious moment. His hands slide underneath your jumper, dragging along your skin to hold your waist. The promise of what will come next puts you on edge.

Sparse gasps for breath hum in the back of your throat. Aemond smiles against your lips and holds you tighter, dragging you to straddle his lap. He pulls away from your mouth, to your frustration, and places a wide palm at your navel, the waist of your jeans. “Stand up, need to get these off.”

You move off him and go to undo the top button, but Aemond grabs your wrists and pulls you closer. You watch as he smiles slightly, his fingers moving to undo the button and the zip. He’s teasing you, drawing out the anticipation as much as he can. 

You sigh in relief once they’re off, dragging them down your legs, tossing them aside and coming back to straddle Aemond. 

His hands settle at your thighs. “Look at you, so eager, hmm?”

“You can’t blame me, you’ve been ignoring me all day,” you say, grinding your clothed core against the bulge in his sweats. You can be teasing too, with drawn out movements of your hips.

Aemond’s jaw tightens. You can see he’s trying to stay smug. “Well, we’re fixing that now.”

You press a kiss to his cheek while your fingertips curl at the top of his sweats, dragging them down enough to free his cock. He’s taught you what he likes and if you were feeling patient you might have come to your knees before him, but at the slightest touch of Aemond’s fingertips against the fabric over your clit, you know what you need.

He pulls your panties to the side, dragging you along his leaking cock with a hand at your lower back. He’s hard and you’re achingly wet. He holds you where he wants you, lining himself up to pull you down onto his length. The stretch is sharp and sweet, hollowing you out and filling you perfectly. 

Aemond’s head falls against the back of the sofa as you sink down.

“Does it feel good?” you tease him.

He’s breathless, helplessly watching the space where your bodies meet. “Fuck, perfect little pussy– feels so good,”

You cradle your arms around his head as you ride him, unhurried, hands restless as you feel his hair and the sides of his face, along his jaw.

Aemond hardly has to do anything, as soon as his fingertips are on your clit you feel your spine straighten and something inside you tighten. He circles over you lazily, watching your face with a soft, admiring kind of amusement. 

“Right there,” you whisper, “don’t fucking stop.”

“Are you gonna come for me, darling?”

Your thighs are burning at the effort but you don’t care. You’re so close, so close.

“Beg me,” Aemond murmurs.

A slew of slurred and breathless pleas fall from your lips. You can feel the slickness between your legs, how easily he glides over you, how deep his cock reaches inside of you, pushing against the right spot.

Aemond hums as he grabs your hips with his free hand, fucking you faster and harder until you’re falling apart, convulsing, melting. 

You fall against Aemond, holding each other closer as you wait for the deliriousness to fade away. Suddenly the air is unbearably cold. You cling to Aemond, to his warmth, content in his arms.

“Happy with your ride?” Aemond asks. You can hear him grinning.

You lift your head and rest it against his shoulder. The light of the TV catches in his features, his jaw, his cheeks, his nose, the details of grey in his right eye and the unnatural bright blue of his left.

“Can I go again?”

Aemond leans into you, pressing his nose against yours. “You can ride me as many times as you want, darling.”

No taglist, follow @ficsbygee and turn on post notifs for updates!

[dawn-the-rithmatist]

I HAVE FINISHED HARROW THE NINTH! It took a minute to get through act five due to life being very life-y but here are the reactions, and there’s a lot of them. Spoilers for the end of the book ofc

Harrow… Nova?

“Continue that sentence,” she said, “and I’ll make it to the pain.” Oh so this is princess bride now

Role swap au?? Harrow cav and reverend daughter Gideon?

This isn’t how it happens, Abigail says. Why are we doing the AU thing. It’s fun, but like. Why

I’m imagining a bunch of ghosts in the river getting dragged into Harrow’s increasingly insane AUs and it’s honestly so funny

The fourth house babies!!!

“they’ve got a hotshot new BARI star.” BARISTA. A BARISTA. I-

Oh fuck oh god it’s Gideon

WHAT DO YOU MEAN ABSOLUTELY NOT ABIGAIL. LET MY GIRLS FLIRT OVER COFFEE PLEASE, I AM STARVING FOR SAPPHIC TIME

HEYYYY CH 43 HAS THE GIDEON SKULL

Memory hit Harrowhark Nonagesimus with the inexorable gravity of a satellite sucked from orbit, flinging itself to die on the surface of its bounden planet; the world hit her like a fall. AAAAAA

“If I forget you, let my right hand be forgotten,” her mouth was saying. “Add more also, if aught but death part me and thee.” And, unsteadily: “Griddle.” AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I am un-fucking-well

Harrow was too amazed by her body’s expanding capacity for despair. It was as though her feeling doubled even as she looked at it, unfolding, like falling down an endless flight of stairs. She dug her hands into the mattress and she cried for Gideon Nav. Stab me in the fucking chest why don’t you

OH SO SHE IS LEGIT POSSESSED. MAKES SENSE I GUESS

As her—cavalier—might have put it, absolutely butt-fuck nothing happened. Ow ow ow ow ow that hesitation OW

SHES BEEN STABBED?!?? Well that’s ominous

Oh that. That stab looks a lot like Gideon on the fence in my brain

AND THEN ITS GIDEON IN HER BODY AHAHSJDJFJJF

Calm. I’m very calm.

Does that mean the Lyctor process is now back on? Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

She healed immediately, that’s. Not good. That’s Lyctor 😭

you weren’t around to be furious, but if you had been, I would’ve told you not to bother; I planned on making them sorrier than they had ever been in all their fucking life. This is the peak of romance actually

Gideon mourning Harrow, I am in so much pain

I GAVE YOU MY WHOLE LIFE AND YOU DIDNT EVEN WANT IT

someone put me down

Gideon babe that is NOT THE REASON SHE- AGHHH

SHES PROUD BECAUSE OF THE CALLOUSES AGHH

I’m. CALM!

But some ancient engine had revved to life for me in a way it never had done for you, probably because I am a good girl and you are an evil nun, and it tore through us almost simultaneously. I need them to bicker instead of this one sided monologue. For mental health

“Come back. I hate this. Eat me, and let’s go full Lyctor. I didn’t fall on a fence for this, Nonagesimus.” I’m going to start eating drywall

“Whenever you’re ready,” I said. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll keep the home fires burning.” I AM SICK I AM ILL I AM PASSING AWAY

Harrowhark had thought from the start the woman showed signs of suppurating ego, but she had never convinced Gideon to see past the appealing eyes and softly clinging dresses. Harrow really was sitting there like. Nav stop being such a hopeless lesbian and use your eyessss

HARROW ASKED CRUX TO PUT ORTUS ON THE SHIP

SHE WANTED GIDEON ALL ALONG AHAJSJDJFKFJFKFKFK

“She died because I let her! You don’t understand!” HARROW JUST STAB ME ITLL HURT LESS

Gideon fighting for their lives: whoops, there goes a thumb. I sincerely apologize. My bad. Please do some pull ups.

THESE MOTHERFUCKERS HAD A HUNGER THAT ONLY THUMBS COULD SATISFY??? Oh that’s a meme I haven’t heard in a LONG time. Llamas with hats returns

You didn’t have your original thumb and I’d touched your intestines, which is usually what, fourth date, but you were fine. Gideon somehow flirting through narration is insane work

Mercy what the FUCK are you talking about. Gideon has “her” eyes??? Who showed you Gideon’s corpse???

“Lipochrome. Recessive.” FUCK THATS WHAT CYTHEREA SAID TOO

I walked away and ate a sandwich and now I think I understand. Mercymorn is with BOE? So much else going on that I totally forgot there’s a traitor in our midst. The rest I’m still lost on

W a i t. Ninth house operation. Being chased by Gideon. Is she talking about Gideon’s fuckin mom

Me 🤝 Mercymorn: What the FUCK is going on

Bro so much of Gideon’s narration when she’s controlling the body is “whoops, sorry Harrow. In my defense-“

Oh crazy, Ianthe FAKED NOT SEEING THE BODY??? That’s so fucked up. Gaslight gatekeeper girlboss is her motto fr fr

Gideon is so violently protective of Harrow and I am going to pass away. GET HER ASSSSSSS

Crazy that I’m more behind an Ianthe/Gideon ship than an Ianthe/Harrow. ofc not seriously because my griddlehark heart but like. I can see it

Gideon: stop being so short, Ianthe should NOT be taller than us

LETTER FOR GIDEON

YOU KNOW IT WAS KILLING ME TWICE THAT YOU WEREN’T THERE, RIGHT?

I COULDNT EVEN. HEAR. YOUR. DAMN. VOICE.

THE GLASSES!!!!!!!

One flesh one end I’m going to crash out

Fuck okay Gideon is also crashing out because Harrow didn���t Eat Her

Wow Ianthe has so completely misunderstood the purpose of that surgery that it’s kind of hilarious

It’s sad because Gideon I think is seeing it the same way??? But still. Wildly off base.

Dear The Body,

If you are somehow haunting or possessing Harrow, please stop so she can be happy with her cav.

XOXO,

Dawn

“Always your sword, my umbral sovereign” just kill me honestly

YOU HATING ME ALWAYS MEANT MORE THAN ANYONE ELSE IN THIS HOT AND STUPID UNIVERSE LOVING ME

AT LEAST I’D HAD YOUR FULL ATTENTION

I’m walking into the ocean

Griddlehark wedding on a revived Earth on the beach/in the ocean so they can be in the salt water-

Anyway.

Chomping at the air rn

“I was already the worst thing that happened to her” baby nooo that’s not it at allll fuck

Gideon will pause the narrative for three things

- boobs

- swearing undying devotion to Harrow

- dunking on Harrow’s lack of muscle

DONT THINK ABOUT HER KIDNEYS

NONIUS??????

Harrow watching the fight and thinking “if Gideon had been there” and it’s so detailed and specific. They’re obsessed with each other I fear

Squints

The red hair and the last note that Harrow finds in the dream world. Is the sleeper Gideon’s fucking MOM

it would explain why there was a link to Gideon’s sword

Ortus please add gay Nonius/G1deon slash fic in your writing

“Chickenshits don’t get beer” Dyas the woman that you are

Necromancers do NOT deserve their cavs

Harrow thinking about Gideon is always so!!!! God they really needed to cut her memories out or we would have died from the yearning

She could let herself go, or she could go back to her body, and let her go oh fuck I know what she’s picking

Magnus confirmed to be a massive simp with that dance card comment

Is the necromancy book actually about grief bc istfg if we go through this whole book and she just absorbs Gideon

Abigail is the mom Harrow needed

The perspective hops in this book are brutal. Dulcie what do you have to say. Fuck I want to know what’s up with Gideon but also I need to know what’s up with Harrow. Fuck you and your cliffhangers aghhhhh

I’m going to bed with less than forty pages left. I’m being GOOD. I’m SLEEPING.

You’re sleeping. Theres thirty minutes to the emperor’s murder and you’re sleeping.

(Continuing on!) THE SLEEPER IS “AWAKE” BECAUSE THATS HER NAME

“Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead Kia Hua Ko Te Pai Snap Back to Reality Oops There Goes Gravity” fascinating stuff. Much to dissect here. What the fuck

AUGUSTINE *AND* MERCY WERE TRAITORS??? JOD FUCKED UP SO BAD HE ALIENATED BOTH OF THEM *AND* CYTHEREA?

THEY WERE GOING TO BREAK INTO THE TOMB?!?!

But then why have a baby with you

Wait. Simmering. Cooking. Contemplating.

Gideon must have been needed to open the tomb somehow. Jod was pretty firm that only he can open the tomb though because it’s his blood so like. But harrow got in. Baby sacrifice can get around the ward??? That feels wrong. He seemed sure that it wouldn’t matter. Only thing I can think of that would make sense is if Gideon is Jod’s kid, but like. Ain’t no way Wake and Jod fucked

I- um. What the fuck

Gideon is Wake and Jod’s kid in the most fucked up way possible apparently

THE BOMB??? This is insane. She’s insane. This is so fucked

The woman I was pretty sure was actually my mother—wearing the body of a woman I’d had a crush on, who in turn had been wearing the identity of a woman she’d murdered, until I fell on a spike so that my boss could kill her—craned her head around in her bonds. What is this book.

G1DEON THOUGHT IT WAS HIS??? ALL OF THE LYCTORS WERE FUCKING AROUND WITH WAKE IN ONE WAY OR ANOTHER

“Hi, Not Fucking Dead,” he said. “I’m Dad.”Shut the fuck up. Shut the fuck up. Jump out the airlock. Shut the fuck up. Shut!! The fuck!! Up!!!

You clawed my face so bad that my blood ran down your hands. THIS. THIS IS IT ISNT IT. BLOOD UNDER THE NAILS. THATS HOW HARROW OPENED THE TOMB.

(That dirt under your nails Caitvi line becomes more relevant by the second)

It’s wild that people act like Gideon is the dumb meathead and Harrow is the deep poetic one because where I’m standing Gideon is the one who spontaneously breaks into borderline poetry in her narration

AL IS ALECTO! I RECOGNIZE THAT NAME! THATS THE BOOK WE’RE ALL WAITING FOR!

It’s wild that this is such a dramatic conversation and they’ll. Pause to offer cigarettes and apologize for raising their voices. What the fuck

I don’t have much sympathy for the Lyctors because like. No one forced them to kill their cavs! They very much could have Not Done That! Like yeah I’m pissed that he kept info from them that might have avoided that, but it’s not like that’s the only thing that could have stopped them >:(

Oh okay adding Mercy and Augustine to the list of duos with hatred and trust intermingled so deeply that it’s become a new kind of devotion

Holy shit.

Holy shit again. Bye Mercy.

JOD WAS THE ONE HAVING G1DEON ATTACK HARROW???? Oh youuuuu motherfucker

“Swear me your loyalty :)” << man who has admitted to lies leading to unnecessary murder, who has killed a friend right in front of you, who has no intention of changing course

Gee I wonder what Augustine will say

JAIL FOR MOTHER. Gideon is Miette confirmed.

Ianthe saving the emperor but not Augustine was somehow both exactly what I expected and not at all on my bingo card. I guess she’s just had a pretty visceral demonstration of what happens to people who turn on him, so I see where her brain is at

Okay im loving Dulcie’s dedication to the whole ugly truth juxtaposed with Jod’s commitment to denying and lying to everyone until the option is ripped away from him

Harrow flashing back to the pool as she’s drowning, I cANT

Okay is Harrow now a revenant? Haunting the tomb, the sword, and the magazine? Like Palamedes?

Who is Camilla looking after, because the exercise and the sword sound like Gideon but. No memories. And maybe on a planet we haven’t seen yet??? Idk. Confused. Curious.

So there’s Harrow finished! I’ve been told I need to read something in the back of the book about the BOE folks, but first. Tumblr post.

Sorry this one is so long. Let me know if I should add a read more if folks hate scrolling past it. Thanks to pastels for letting me scream in her DMs, and to folks who have sent me non-spoiler posts and art! Hoping to start Nona soon :)

Tag list: @pastelsandpining @sycadadrawsstuff @scoundrelwithboba @turtletotem @g1ngan1nja

[visionsofcarnality]

Make-A-Wish

Summary: You ask your boyfriend to fuck you as his vigilante persona. Oh… and the helmet stays on. 🫵❤️

Warnings: Rough sex, Jaybird is a meanie in this one, degradation, name calling, use of slùt and whöre. Crude language, crying, ass slapping, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it this is tumblr where people don’t get pregnant or STDs), cræmpie, slight overstim, Jason’s baby bird helmet hair.

a/n: i saw this pop up in my feed and i have to say this idea hijacked all common sense in my brain. I hope i did you justice- @smutinlove

(mdni below the cut, I am dead serious)

“Is this what you fucking wanted?” Was growled in your ear through the voice modulator installed in the helmet that you could currently feel pressing against the side of your head while the man wearing it pounded into you from behind. “You wanted the Red Hood? You fucking got it, bitch…” His sentence trailed off into a groan when you clenched around him from the harsh words.

“Fuck… You like this shit?” His thrusts were punishing, driving your legs even farther apart than you’d already stretched them, back forced into an arch by one of his big, thick hands on your spine.

You had no response for him, mewling and babbling into the dark sheets that you tried to grip between your scrambling fingers, simultaneously trying to push back onto him and pull yourself off.

“Jay-“ You cried, and the word was cut off when he used his other gloved hand to grip your hair, pulling you up by the nape of your neck so your chest was flush against his back.

“I don’t know who you’re calling for, princess.” He teased cruelly into your ear while the hand that had previously taken residence on your back circled around your shaking thighs to the little spot between your legs that made you see stars. “Is that good? That feel good? Such a dirty fucking whore for me, yeah?” He panted through the helmet, hot metal replacing what would have been hot breath on your neck.

“You like fucking the Red Hood?” He jeered, a dark chuckle escaping the covered mouth behind you. “Yeah, you fucking love this shit. Get off on being treated like a slut?” You couldn’t even respond with the way he was fucking you, forcing the flesh between your thighs to part and your body to take more and more of his fat fucking cock. He wasn’t the longest you’d had, but he definitely was the thickest. No matter how he tried to prepare you you always felt him for days after he fucked you… Especially like this. Your poor cunt would no doubt be dripping, leaking, and bruised tomorrow morning.

The thought alone triggered your orgasm and you came with a high, keening cry. Pussy damn-near crushing his cock as he continued thrusting, working your exhausted body through the waves of ecstasy. The sound of skin on wet skin filled the room as your cunt gushed and creamed for him, creating a white ring around the base of his cock as evidence of his prowess. Through the helmet he looked down quickly to watch your spasming pussy continue to spread around his cock. Your pretty little lips sucking him in while your muscles tried to push him out.

“That’s it, baby, fucking soak it.” He encouraged, finally getting tired of the helmet and yanking it from his head with one gloved hand. Underneath he was damp with sweat and condensation from his ragged breathing as he fucked you. Still, he fucked you, wringing the last dregs of pleasure from your body and starting another race to the peak. “Thought i’d let you off that easy?” He spoke into your ear, finally feeling his lips instead of metal on your skin. He took your earlobe into his teeth, biting the flesh with a nip like a kitten.

“Not gonna stop until you’re fucking screaming.” And scream you did, especially when his teeth sank into the flesh of the top of your shoulder as he came. The hot, wet feeling of his orgasm inside you triggered the second orgasm and you stopped making sounds that could be described as human.

He rutted against you still, torturing you both with the pleasure until you were sure it was more pain than sensation. Still he ground his pelvis against yours, so you could feel his heavy balls against your pussy as he emptied himself for all he was worth, painting your insides with the evidence of your mutual depravity.

Finally, after what felt like years he let go of your hair, letting you collapse to the bed gently, his other arm lowering you gently so as to not hurt your nose.

When he was assured you were able to let your weight onto the mattress he finally pulled out, moaning under his breath at the cold air on his previously cozy cock that was now creamy and shiny with your mixed juices. With both hands he harshly gripped the globes of your ass and lifted gently, exposing your ruined and still-twitching hole to his hungry eyes. Especially when the first drop of milky white cum appeared at your entrance and slid down to your clit where it hung like a pearly stalactite before plummeting to the sheets. Jason loved to watch his cum pour out of your cunt after you’d been thoroughly fucked out on his cock, something about the sight made him almost ready to go again at that exact second.

Only your soft sounds of requested affection broke him from the trance and he abandoned his show to laze down beside you, grabbing a soft tissue from beside the bed and cleaning between your legs before more of him dripped onto the sheets.

“How you doing baby?” He crooned gently, so at odds with how he’d spoken to you during the act. He gently ran a hand over your head and waited for your words.

The laugh that came out of him was enough to shake the building when you held up a singular hand for a high five.

[chaisshitposts]

𝐏𝐒𝐘𝐂𝐇-𝐊 / 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐅𝐒 + 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅-𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆

what is psych-k? •°. *࿐

according to the psych-k frequently asked questions, PSYCH-K, "is a proven and safe way to change subconscious beliefs that perpetuate old habits of thinking and behaving that you would like to change."^1 dumbing it down, you are using psych-k to tap into your subconscious and conscious simultaneously, rewiring your brain with a single affirmation. and while doing this, you may begin to have a rush of negative, limiting thoughts, but instead of pushing them away in frustration, you will invite them in. think of it like this... you are the teacher and your affirmation is a brand-new lecture. you're standing at the front of the room in front of many desks, all filled with 'students' aka your thoughts, emotions, etc. as you are 'lecturing' (repeating this affirmation over and over and over) the 'students' begin to disrupt you with hurtful words or overall trying to debate with your 'lecture'. how do you handle this? you continue to 'lecture', you can continue to listen to your 'students', and eventually, the 'students' will quiet down until there's complete silence and that's when your 'lecture' has started to implement its knowledge into your 'students'.

how does psych-k work? •°. *࿐

"PSYCH-K® is a unique process, having evolved from years of brain research and thousands of sessions with individuals and groups. It creates a receptive, “Whole-Brain State” that dramatically reduces unwanted resistance to change in the subconscious mind. The subconscious can be accessed in a way analogous to a personal computer. PSYCH-K® works as a kind of ‘mental keyboard’ — a user-friendly method of communicating with the subconscious mind that is simple, direct, and verifiable."^2

has there been scientific research on psych k? •°. *࿐

absolutely. if you'd like to read more about this, you can go here and download the various articles and give them a quick read.

how does psych-k differ from other methods as well as other healing techniques such as meditation? •°. *࿐

if you're looking for a thorough answer to this question, feel free to look at this for reference as it better explains the answer to this question in its entirety. the bottom line, however, is that this technique is just as important as others and is not meant to replace any other methods, it is simply another addition. many healing techniques will depend on outside sources of the person, such as a psychologist, hypnotist, or anyone with similar titles. however, psych-k will depend on the inner-workings of those who are performing it, psych-k simply provides the tools and you, the one who is getting into this 'whole brain state' are the one actually doing all of the work. you will be the one taking apart your limiting beliefs and replacing them with whatever you truly desire.

will it benefit me? •°. *࿐

PSYCH-K, "[...] enables you to communicate with your subconscious mind so you can change beliefs that are limiting your self-esteem, relationships, job performance, even your physical health…and much more! PSYCH-K® is popularly characterized as a spiritual process with psychological and physical benefits. While the term “psych” is often used as an abbreviation for “psychology,” in our case it is used as a variant spelling of the word psyche, meaning “mind,” “soul,” or “spirit.” The letter “K” represents the Key to sustainable success."^3

why should i test out the psych method? •°. *࿐

just like anything else, you do not need to try this out, however, what do you have to lose? the results may shock you.

can anyone do the psych-k technique? •°. *࿐

absolutely anyone can do the psych-k, it is not limited to any particular group of people, and it can effect people differently depending on how they use it.

how do i do psych-k? •°. *࿐

there are many videos on YouTube that will provide a visual guide of instructions on how to do it, however, this is the video that I use and I highly recommend that you watch the entire video to get a logical understanding of what's happening (if you prefer logical info like I do). and if you're having trouble figuring out how to position your hands, watch this video as well. I'd also like to mention that if you're unsure of which side of your brain has more resistance to a new belief, set yourself a timer for 5 minutes and do psych-k with your left ankle crossed over your right and your left hand crossed over your right. after the timer goes off, switch your right ankle to cross over your left, and your right hand to cross over your left. a l s o, if you decide to have resistance against this method bc or any method in general (bc you're stubborn perhaps), take the time to do psych-k and affirm that all methods work for you, boom, fuckin' foolproof.

can i use psych-k to manifest anything i desire? •°. *࿐

yes, yes you can, you're changing your beliefs right in the moment, there are no fuckin' limits unless you create those limits for yourself.

can i use psych k to enter the void state? •°. *࿐

yes, you can do anything you want with psych-k. @urgurljodie has a bit more information on this, but, i am aware that they sent an ask to someone and stated that while doing psych-k you should affirm that you're in the void state/in the void etc.

how do i know if I'm doing it right? •°. *࿐

there's no need to overcomplicate this, don't fear the replacement. simply sit down, get into position as instructed in the videos provided above, and follow their words. stay in the psych-k position for as long as needed, repeating your new belief over and over, invite the resistance in, and simply keep thinking this new thought until you no longer feel resistance towards your new belief. you'll know if you did it right, promise. may sound unbelievable at first, but again, what do you have to lose?

can i combine psych-k with the laws of manifestation? •°. *࿐

absolutely, use any affirmations you want.

do i have to do psych k to eliminate limiting beliefs? •°. *࿐

nope! this is simply just another method of sorts, you don't need to try anything you don't want to. no one is forcing this shit down your throat...

notes •°. *࿐

i'd recommend this technique that combines psychology and kinesiology to anyone and everyone who thinks they are struggling to build new beliefs or manifest their dream lives. the worse that could happen is that it doesn't work or it just takes you a little longer to replace the programming in your mind. give it a try and report your results. a l s o, before anyone comes at me i will give proper and due credit to @urgurljodie for bringing light to this technique to the tumblr void community, ya should be thanking them for this. this particular technique has thoroughly pleased the logical and more scientific-based limiting beliefs I've had for a while. this post was simply meant to add onto what's already been established, all due credits go to the developer of the technique of rob williams as well as the tumblr user mentioned above.

references.

all of the quoted information comes from this site.

1. https://psych-k.com/faq/#what

2. https://psych-k.com/faq/#what

3. https://psych-k.com/faq/#what

4. here's some information on muscle testing and psych-k

5. clearer instructions for the correct posture (en)

6. more information on the whole brain state

[saphiccarma]

- Long Distance

Relationships - Wandanat x Reader

Summary - A long distance relationship with Wanda and Natasha after hooking up with them while drunk

Warnings: phone sex, vibrator, teasing, orgasm denial, guided masturbation

A/N: idk if i like this so might delete and rewrite in the morning, we'll see how it does

It'd been a few weeks since you'd seen Natasha and Wanda, a drunken encounter that was hazy in your own mind and the only thing you had left was a number in your phone you were too scared to text. You often found yourself staring at it, fingers over the keyboard as your brain swirled with possible greetings, but they all sounded too lame.

Which is why you were sitting in your bed, scrolling through Wanda's Instagram account. It was hard to refrain from liking every photo but if your finger slipped a few times then oh well. One of your hands wanders along your stomach, dancing along the exposed skin from where your shirt rides up.

You can feel a heat pooling between your thighs, insistent and begging for attention.

Swiping across another photo, hitting the like button, you freeze when an unknown caller id pops up. After a moment you recognize it and you swear you've never answered a call so fast. The sounds you hear make you choke on any words.

Filthy moans, punctuated by wet slapping sounds and low whines. Heat rushes through your body as you grip the phone tightly, cautiously setting it down on the nightstand, your hand dipping lower to tease the waistband of your pants.

"You look so pretty like this," Natasha's voice is a low purr, just how you remember it and your core clenches at the sound of it. Wanda whimpers on the other side of the phone, but it's strained and almost reluctant.

More pornographic noises flood through your phone, and you hear their bed creak with each movement. Unable to resist, you slip your fingers into your panties, pointer finger circling your clit. A soft moan leaves your lips, hardly noticing you're not muted. You press down harder, your free hand coming up to tease your breasts as the moaning increases.

"Oh fuck Natasha-" Wanda sounds nothing like a few weeks ago, instead replaced by a needy submissive side.

It's honestly embarrassing how quickly you approach your climax, thighs already trembling and breath hitching. Stifling your moans is an impossible task so you don't bother any longer, instead letting yourself to be as loud as you want.

You should mute yourself on the call. You should hang up. Yet you can't bring yourself to do either of those things, instead pinching your clit as you listen to Natasha fuck Wanda and hear the delicious sounds she makes. A low groan leaves your lips when you slip a finger into your tight heat.

From just being on call with them and looking at photos of the two women has you so worked up it's not a problem to slide your finger in and out. Your thumb continues to work on your clit while you play with your breasts. You roll the rosy peaks between your fingers, twisting and pinching so that you whimper softly.

"You gonna come for me pretty girl?"

Natasha words have you falling apart in sync, lips parting simultaneously in ecstasy as your back arches off the bed and you rut into your fingers. It was rare you touched yourself, but fuck, this time it felt so fucking good. You pant, slowly catching your breath and you hear Wanda doing the same.

Easing your finger out of your cunt, you remove the pressure put on your clit and wipe your fingers off on the bed sheets. You would wash them later. You fumble for your phone, hands slightly shaky, and your hand hovers over the end call button.

"Do you think she would move here?" Wanda asks softly. At first it doesn't click, but then you realize she's talking about you. She's asking if you would move in with them or at least move close to be with them. The sound makes you needy all over again, even though your cunt throbs from just coming.

There's a scoff, distinctly from Natasha, "Why don't we ask her?"

All you can formulate is a surprised noise before your finger jerks and hangs up.

^___________^

From that point forward it only escalated. Not talking at all turned to weekly phones calls and texting everyday before that turned into calling during every available moment you had. Then those calls turned into masturbation sessions, following every command and order given to you. Even if it meant ruining your own orgasm.

Recently, Wanda implemented a rule that you were not to touch yourself without permission. At first you were appalled, frustrated, but also so eager to please. It took some getting used to, but you managed to restrain yourself.

It was a particularly difficult day. You started off your morning with a video of the two fucking - Natasha tied up, her wrists pinned above her head by a soft ribbon that was tied to the headboard. Wanda was settled between her legs, hands on her thighs as she ate her out like a woman starved.

Every time you close your eyes you see them.

And to make matters worse, Wanda forced you to keep a vibrator shoved in your cunt all day. It was Bluetooth one that somehow worked from where they lived all the way in New York, but you didn't question it. It was pure torture, having the little red device buzzing inside you all day.

As much as you wanted to, you knew cumming would only make matters worse. So you went about your day with an ache between your thighs was impossible to relieve. Even if you could cum, the vibrator was set so low you just weren't able to climax.

Wanda was being a fucking tease and you both loved and hated her for it. As you wander around the house, the toy inside you picks up speed, vibrating against your cunt and drawing you so close to the edge. Maybe you could come and just never tell her. She doesn't have to know.

But just as you get close, the intensity is lowered and you whine in frustration. Whipping out your phone you shoot a text to the group chat, 'Can I touch myself? Please?' After a moment three dots appear on the screen, bouncing up and down before they disappear again.

You let out an annoyed sound, throwing your head back as you sulk over to the couch, plopping down. Your bitter mood quickly changes when Wanda's contact photo flashes across your phone - you've never answered a call so quickly.

"Hey sweet girl." Her voice flows like honey and strokes the fire in your belly, "Is someone needy today?"

You exhale sharply through your nose, "Yes."

She laughs at your curt response, clicking her tongue on the roof of her mouth. The vibrator picks up speed again, making you clench your thighs together and wiggle on the couch. Nothing you do helps to alleviate the need between your thighs.

"Mind your manners," she chides softly, raising an unimpressed eyebrow, "I'll make you a deal. If you can last until Tasha gets home from work, which is in about fifteen minutes-" your eyes widen, fifteen minutes may not seem like long, but when you were teetering on the edge it felt like an eternity, "-then you can come. But if you come before that, then you don't get to tomorrow. Or the night after. Not for the whole week. Understood?"

While she phrased it as a deal you know it's more of a command. Exhaling shakily, you nod your head, inhaling sharply as Wanda turns the vibrator up even higher. When you remember she wants words, you force out a stammering "understood."

"Good girl," the praise hits you like a freight train, "Alright darling, fifteen minutes."

You moan when you shift your hips, the vibrator angling to a new spot deep inside you. It feels so good at a higher setting and you approach your climax within a minute. Gritting your teeth together you force yourself to hold back.

Orgasming now would only result in a week of pain. It was funny how even in a different state they had so much power over you, but you loved it with a deep passion.

"Lift your shirt up. I wanna see you play with yourself."

For a moment you don't register the husky command. Once you do, you scramble to lift your shirt, hands flying to your breasts. While you hold the phone in one hand, the other tweaks and rolls your nipple between your thumb and forefinger.

"Slower." There's a smug note in her voice that tells you she knows exactly what she's doing, "Prop your phone up on the coffee table and strip your lower half."

Your hands shake but you manage to prop the phone up, giving Wanda a solid view of you. Stripping your pants and panties off, you moan when the vibrator shifts inside you again. Every movement is a mix of pain and pleasure, a desperation for release.

A steady stream of praise flows through the phone as Wanda guides you through touching yourself. Your fingers swipe through your wet folds, pushing the toy even further into you. And you tease your breasts until the tips are red and sore.

It feels like an eternity as you wait, staving off an orgasm that was begging to be released. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes and you bite your lip, throwing your head back as your hips writhe on the couch. You're so close. You just need Natasha to get home.

Wanda tuts, disappointment radiating from the sound, "Ah ah, let me see your face pretty girl. I want to watch as you cry while coming undone."

"Please," you beg, looking down to the phone, "I've been good please."

Wanda only gives you a look of faux pity and remains silent. You take that as a que to keep touching yourself, little gasps and whimpers leaving your lips as you fight back the bomb threatening to explode inside you. Finally - Finally you hear the front door through Wanda's phone creak open.

Eyes snapping open, a tear streaks down your face and you see Natasha come into view. Her red hair is pulled into a high ponytail and she looks thoroughly amused at your predicament. Scoffing, she takes a seat next to Wanda, ready to enjoy the show.

"Can I come? Please you said I could. Natty's home, please." Your words are a pleading babble, hoping that you'll get the release you so desperately crave.

"Go ahead baby."

[pico-farad]

I finished season 1 of Vrains and it was cool but I thought it needed about 2 billion more secret identity shenanigans

More Secret Identities AU

extended thoughts below

So I went into a deep dive in my last two posts (1, 2) about all the problems I had with Vrains, and you'd think I didn't enjoy it, but in fact as I was watching, there was a separate, parallel version of Vrains that was playing in my head, a Yugioh I think we were robbed of and which fixes every problem I had with the first season, and that is Secret Identities AU.

Yusaku needs FRIENDS

This is YUGIOH.

This dynamic is everything I wanted from Vrains. Yusaku developing unexpected fondness for these bozos who think he needs a defense squad. I want Miraculous Ladybug levels of secret identity shenanigans. I want Yusaku slapping his duel disk every time Ai tries to blow their cover.

This AU sprung forth from the scene in the duel club where he shows Naoki his decoy deck. Having Yusaku passing as a bad duelist is 1) so funny, but 2) Yusaku needing to maintain his low profile is a useful contrivance for other characters to get more duels, and 3) I think it would be a really fun one-off episode where Yusaku has to duel using his bad deck. When he wins, Naoki is so proud he cries.

Having Yusaku actually have to interact with the other characters in the real world opens up Greek play levels of dramatic irony. The crux of a secret identity story is that every single interaction builds up anticipation, because you the viewer know that the other party is being deceived, and that the tension will snap when the secret is revealed.

I have zero anticipation about Playmaker's identity being revealed, because Aoi would be like "oh.... I guess he goes to my school" and Go would be like "have I seen that guy before?" But SIAU Playmaker? My guy is making friends just so he can betray them. Insane.

Go needs A ROLE IN THE STORY.

I said in my first post that Go isn't a rival or a best friend character. SIAU fixes this by making him both simultaneously.

Having him be the ace of the duel club is a natural replacement for his whole hero of the orphans schtick, while placing him directly the circle of relevance with the other characters. Instead of being disgruntled that the orphans suddenly like Playmaker more than him, he's disgruntled that Naoki and the duel club mooks are fawning over Playmaker -- which is actually just Naoki's character anyway.

I would kill for a big dramatic moment where Go learns that Playmaker and Yusaku are the same person, and even though Go feels betrayed that Yusaku has been deceiving him, he stands by Yusaku anyway because they're friends.

With a secret identity story, every conversation is working on multiple levels because each character is working with asymmetric information. You get these fascinating, layered scenes of two characters talking past each other because they cannot give up their secret.

Which would go especially hard with Go and Yusaku, because Go has legitimate criticisms of Playmaker in canon and Yusaku has legitimate reasoning behind the things he does, and as Go Onizuka and Playmaker they could never come to an understanding on them, but as Go and Yusaku, two friends in duel club, that door becomes open to them.

Aoi needs WRITING THAT ISN'T A TRAINWRECK

I made a whole post on this. Basically every problem would be solved if Akira doesn't know that she's Blue Angel. There's no reason for her to lose grotesquely against Yusaku, or have her basic autonomy called into question constantly. 

Having her actively deceive her brother is delicious. Like I said in my last post, it's so obvious how Akira's overprotectiveness has taken its toll on Aoi, and pushed her into developing this other persona, Blue Angel. I want this absolutely dysfunctional sibling relationship so badly. The Blue Angel vs. Zaizen duel would make me lose my mind.

And a secret identities setting works so well with the potential themes of VRAINS as a stand-in for the internet and Blue Angel as an idol. Give me that Perfect Blue Satoshi Kon good stuff. Give me those themes about identity, and the different lives we live, outward and inward, online and offline.

This also helps Akira's character, because I think he would be much more interesting and relevantly positioned in the story if he stayed a SOL Technologies baddie. SOL Technologies has very little presence in season 1 despite being critical to the story. After Zaizen is replaced by an irrelevant clown, they don't do anything but send out mook AIs to get destroyed. By having a three-way standoff between Yusaku's squad, the Knights of Hanoi, and SOL Technologies, both Hanoi and SOL Technologies become more compelling. They've both got all the reason in the world to want to take down the other. Zaizen vs. Revolver or Spectre? That's good shit.

And don't get me started on how I would turn Revolver into a Secret Identities character.

[stars-obsession-pit]

DPxDC or other such DP crossover fics sometimes like to flirt with the idea of immensely powerful/eldritch Ghost King and/or Ancient Of Space Danny who outclasses everyone else, but I feel like they often fall short of making his power come across as truly overwhelming instead of just like… “regular powerful”.

Like sure he can easily take out the designated Worf dangerous villain (often Darkseid in a DPxDC thing) but like… without the actual story itself truly establishing that character’s power beforehand, that doesn’t necessarily feel as impactful as it could.

And even if the story does try to establish that, “he just punches the enemy and they fold” doesn’t carry the same… pizazz as something more reality-shaking.

(Not that stories necessarily need that pizazz, but like for reinforcing the image of strength it’s certainly helpful, especially if you don’t have that established power to take down first)

So anyway here’s a sorta rambled set of ideas for that sort of “more overwhelming power” stuff

What if when Danny is summoned, the whole world lurches for a moment as all of the planet’s momentum is ground to a halt by his arrival then reinstated. Or maybe gravity just… stops working for a moment, letting many items drift upwards into the air before falling back down.

Perhaps the whole sky could suddenly shift too. The daytime sky blackens to night, or the night turns to day. Maybe all the stars flare up brightly enough to become visible despite the sun’s glare (probably also shining brightly enough to cause eye damage to anyone unlucky enough to be looking outside at the time).

Or you could go more horror/freaky eldritch with it. The stars change to resemble eyes staring down on the world. Whispers can be heard originating from somewhere in the sky above. Maybe you’re crazy, but you could swear there’s a pattern to the positions of the stars currently visible, some hidden message encoded within them.

Or like just generally… summoning something that powerful isn’t a quiet affair. The world feels his arrival.

Relatedly, though not quite as directly relevant to this post’s contents, you’d probably also want to greatly increase the difficulty of summoning him. He’s too impressive to be given a lame/easy summoning ritual, you know? Make them work for their chance to talk to something this powerful.

And what about when Danny is present? How would he interact with the world?

Maybe when he needs to grab something from somewhere distant, instead of just creating a small portal and reaching through, space itself folds. Their vision distorts and suddenly the other location is just there beside them as if it always had been. Danny casually just reaches across, grabs the item, and then the world returns to normal.

Or alternatively, a tiny version of the world appears in his hands—not just a copy but an instance of the planet itself—and he just reaches down into it and plucks the item up. If someone were to happen to look up from the item’s location while he did it, they would see a planet-sized figure reaching down and lifting the item away into the heavens. And as it shrinks away into the distant sky, it simultaneously grows to appear in Danny’s own hand retracting from the globe.

That effect could also appear in a more subtle fashion when he travels - instead of zipping through the air, he seems to walk casually, yet each step moves him forward an immense distance across the planet (or beyond).

And when he fights, he’s unstoppable. His regular abilities are already tuned up to a million - cold powerful to bring a whole planet to basically absolute zero, his wail nearly tearing the fabric of universe ahead of him apart, etc. But you could also give him other fancier things based on being Ancient of Space or Ghost King like throwing around miniature stars or black holes, pulling people’s souls out of their bodies, etc. Hell, just the manipulation of space on its own would open up ridiculous numbers of possibilities - redirecting attacks (guaranteeing that his attacks hit and that others’ attacks miss (or are even turned back on themselves)), stretching/compressing space around someone to prevent them from moving, folding space to drop them into something hazardous like a supernova, etc.

Again, this is a version of Danny that’s meant to be godlike. I feel like his power should be able to majorly reshape the whole world around him (and thus you’d want/need to openly shown it as such for that fact to come across).

Even if he isn’t fighting, there’s also the more passive possibilities because like, his power doesn’t necessarily just vanish when not in use.

His aura is often shown freezing people under the weight of his power, but let’s take it further into the theme. It doesn’t just make them freeze, it forces them to experience all the different ways they could die. Or maybe it’s a bit more on the space side of things and they bear witness to the scale of the universe and heat death, all the stars burning out as their whole universe goes dark.

Then Danny apologizes and suddenly the visions recede and they realize that wasn’t even an intentional threat. His mere presence is just like that unless he actively realizes and holds himself back.

Or there could also be like, casual references to situations so beyond the heroes’ perceptions.

He’s summoned and mentions like “oh yeah I solved those threats to your planet for you” and they’re like “Wait, threats? Plural? There was more than one?!”

Because to them, those other threats were impossible to see coming (e.g. a really small, really distant asteroid that wasn’t visible to any telescopes yet, or their universe being on a collision course with something else in the Infinite Realms, or etc). But to Danny they were like… obvious issues with easy fixes (or maybe not easy per se but like, a normal part of the job).

[cupidkenji]

Gnaw

Now Playing: Gnaw - Alex G everything I knew was looking just as it should Pairing: Nam gyu (player 124) x AFAB!reader CW: smut, oral (r receiving), choking but not in a freaky way he literally chokes reader to get them unconscious (no somno), kidnapping kind of (he takes them back to their house), knifeplay 💀, restraints being used (reader's wrists are tied), noncon technically but again mentally reader is into it, toxic ex bf, he's really whipped tho, minor bloodplay, undertones of sadism, lokey father figure vibes from Nam gyu (i'm so sorry), probably kind of OOC, university AU Summary: After that night, you ran. You should know by now you can never get far from him. Disclaimer: Reader is always thought of to be chubby/bigger when writing but I do my best to not physically describe reader at all with stuff like skin tone or body type. Anyone can read this as reader is not depicted but if there's a slip up please let me know. <3 WC: 3.7k (again) this is a part 2! read part 1 here.

the worms are eating away at my brain i am going crazy. please for this story just imagine you have one of those bed frames that are individual bars w space in between them instead of like one solid thing. also i really need to start writing these earlier in the day so i have the energy to proof read them. i'm sorry for my sins have mercy on me.

The sunlight seared through a pair of shitty motel curtains, attempting to penetrate your shut eyelids. It was the sixth day you were waking up in a scratchy bed on the run down side of your already dirty town. It was the sixth day you would spend missing him. 

You knew it was wrong, immoral to even think of returning to the man who had done such a thing. Who was clearly at a place in his life where he could do such a thing. Even through all the intellectualizing of his actions, the pleading you did with yourself to be disgusted, you weren’t. You knew it the second he cleaned you up and went to sleep, and it was terrifying, so you ran. As soon as you were sober, you ran to the only sanctuary you could afford as a college student who was also renting an apartment and a vehicle. You had already overstayed your welcome, knowing that the six days would cost you more than you wanted to shell out. You didn’t know how long you planned to be gone, originally fleeing the scene to be able to think. It was only proving more difficult as the days ticked on. You’d come all the way out here to talk yourself into hating him, only to carve out an even bigger space within yourself that he was to occupy. You missed him. The more you thought about it, the more apparent it became, and that just pushed you to stay longer. To wait out the bruising feeling eating at you the more you forced yourself away. 

You skipped class, not daring to step foot on campus lest he be waiting for her. The thought made your head fizz, a horrified and excited feeling mingling as they wrapped around the nerves in your stomach. Just the possibility of seeing him overwhelmed you, but you were simultaneously sick from the distance. You were sick of your surroundings, too. The walls were gray and stained, and you feared the hygiene status of the bed you were sleeping in. You hadn’t had much time to pack when you’d left, grabbing miscellaneous clothing that had yet to be put away and shoving it in a backpack. You hadn’t brought a blanket or a pillow, something you regretted. The suffocating nature of the beige room prompted the nightly walks you’d been taking. It was a bearable temperature, and the full perimeter of the building provided a decent amount of ground to cover. You hadn’t grabbed a charger, leaving your phone dead and you bored. Without any artificial stimulation to occupy your head, you took notice of the normally unnoticeable aspects of such a place. There were bits of a wired fence on the right side of the parking lot, the few lamps that lit the outside up had security cameras on them that didn’t work. You couldn't sleep one night, so you’d gone to look at them, finding that when the cords reached the end of the pole, they’d been haphazardly cut. It looked rushed and frayed, like a child had done it with safety scissors. It was deceiving, truly. There was no safety in an already dim parking lot. 

On tonight’s walk, you mulled over the date you’d return by. You still needed to graduate, and realistically, you couldn’t avoid your life forever. You were getting progressively more tired, sleeping less each night you stayed, missing the comfort of your own bed. The ground was uneven and cracked under your shoes, reminding you of the gray, crumbling building you were supposed to retrieve your roommate from. Reminding you of him, how stupid all of this was. There was a familiar smell in the air as you rounded a corner, nearly back to your room. It was distinct, heady and musky, as if you were back on that street and looking up at the flowing smoke again. You did your usual observation of the desolate asphalt full of empty parking spots.

And what the fuck were the odds?

He was already looking at you, the end of his cigarette glowing orange as he took a drag, like a sniper taking aim. He was a mere silhouette being poorly lit up by a streetlight that barely worked, but you knew. It was this feeling of magnetism, the same way he knew exactly who he was looking at, you felt the world around you melt, the air around you became irrelevant as your eyes locked on him. There was another man there, leaning against the hood of his car with Nam gyu right next to him, taking no notice of you as he spoke. You couldn’t make out his words with how far away you were. The man you’d been avoiding making little sounds of acknowledgement while being completely trained on you, posture relaxed and comfortable. He found you.

His friend nudged him, mumbling something and standing up. The both of them walked back into what was presumably the man’s room after snuffing out what they were smoking. You didn’t even register your legs beelining for your room. You threw whatever you had into the backpack you’d brought. You needed to get the fuck out of here. It was an unfathomably cruel move from whatever higher power was in charge of this situation. The two of you were being forced together like sand and water. He was everywhere, no matter where you were he would inevitably catch up. Maybe it took him three months the first time, but clearly he was done waiting. You rushed the check out process, not knowing how long his friend would keep him occupied now that he knew you were here. Maybe he wouldn’t even care. The thought made your stomach twist, but still, you needed to go. Your car seemed like an endless walk from the front doors, parked in the corner closest to your room, dark and unsuspecting. In such an empty place, you didn’t want your car to sit illuminated, as if advertised. This motel had a reputation, and you wanted to keep your means of travel safe. 

Your hands shook slightly as you hit the unlock button on your keys, yanking the handle to the backseat and throwing your bag somewhere in the back. It was just clothes, you didn’t care if it rolled around or hit the floor during the commute to wherever you were going, you just cared about getting out. The slam of the back door shutting seemed louder than what was appropriate for such a bone-deep silence for this time of night. Opening the driver’s side, you barely had enough room to squeeze through before it was being shoved closed from behind you. On impulse, you tried to turn around, startled and drowning in adrenaline; but before you could, the crook of his right arm encompassed your neck, tightening like a snake who was readying the prey for consumption. Your hands shot up, grasping his forearm with a futile grip, as if you could will his arm away from you. The pressure on your windpipe was bleeding black into the edges of your sight, static mingling with your hearing as your head got lighter. You could hear quiet shushes and reassurances coming from the man behind you, as though talking a child back into sleep after a nightmare. You dug your nails into the fabric of his sweatshirt as a weak sob barreled out of your mouth. He only pushed a little harder, pulling you into him. The proximity comforted you despite his actions, and you used the last little bit of energy you had to condemn yourself, body going limp against him after the last internal inquiry of what the fuck was wrong with you. He had also noticed the camera situation, knowing that his actions would go undocumented in the empty little place. He walked you over the passenger seat, hauling you in and buckling you up like a kid in a car seat. He started the route to your house, it was a Friday, your roommate would surely be out. He knew she was barely ever at the house, after staying there on and off for two years, he thinks he could probably count how many times he saw her sleep there on one hand. It wasn’t a long drive, twenty minutes or so, and you’d be home.

–

The normally disarming lamplight of your bedroom reeled in your consciousness from the void it had been thrown to. It didn’t feel particularly calming - not now. Your head was on your pillow, a focused Nam gyu diligently knotting a rope around your wrists, bundling them together and lacing the restraint through your headboard. Your neck felt bruised, sore and pulsing with a light pain as the blood rushed to your head. Your legs tensed on instinct, noticing the motion was not detained. He hadn’t tied your legs. You tugged once at the rope, testing the endurance just as much as you were testing your own strength. Your muscles felt nearly atrophied, the action making an ache ricochet through the oxygen-depleted muscles. Your whole body felt tired, heavy. Your exhale was shaky, slowly deflating from your lungs as if your body was made of stone. 

“Oh, good.” He double checked the knot, tugging once to solidify it’s hold on you before standing up to look down on you. “I didn’t know how long you’d be out.” He sounded so casual, as if instead of choking you unconscious and dragging you home, he’d simply carried you in from the car after you’d fallen asleep in it. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Your voice was quiet and gravelly, like your throat was coated in sand. Your lip trembled at the feeling of being so close to him. God, you were like a fucking puppy; can’t even be away from him for a week without turning into a weird sentimental puddle upon seeing him again. “Please untie me.” Your eyes watered as you spoke. You’d barely been awake five minutes and you were on the brink of tears. Pathetic. 

His eyes flicked over your face at the sight of your eyes welling up, a little glint of something familiar sparking in them for just a moment. “I can’t.” He shrugged, imitating disappointment at the notion. “You keep running from me. How are we supposed to resolve this if you can’t even keep still?”

Resolve this. Your eyes closed at the words, attempting to stop the tears from spilling at the thought. You’d left him for a reason. It was repeated over and over in your head like a mantra. You had to stick to it even if you couldn’t remember what the desire to be away from him felt like. Even as your chest heaved slightly with panic, you hoped he wouldn’t move. You hoped he would keep talking just so you could hear his voice, be near him. It wasn’t a rational wish by any means, but you could feel the intensity of it in your fucking bones with how consuming it was. 

“I’m not a patient man, honey. I waited for so fucking long.” He leaned over your dormant frame, putting one knee on the bed and moving his other to mirror the motion, effectively pinning your hips down under his weight. “You know, it wasn’t even your roommate who wanted you there. She just left her phone unlocked, and I knew you’d show up if she asked.”

“What-” Your words halted in your throat as he drew a pocket knife from the pocket of his sweatshirt. Jesus.  “Please - you don’t understand-” 

“Relax.” The word was chuckled slightly as he cut you off, like the panic that shot through your eyes at the sight of the blade in his hands was unjustified, like you were being irrational. “I think I was too selfish that night, hm?” The look he was giving you felt like it could kill you if he really wanted it to. Intense and suffocating, full of excitement and devotion. “You clearly hadn’t been touched in months and I got ahead of myself.” He shook his head slightly as his eyes looked over you, your chest was moving quick and shallow as you breathed, stomach tensing as he lifted your shirt up just an inch, caressing the skin above the waistband with his thumb. It barely even seemed intentional, as if his hands subconsciously drew themselves to you, needed to be touching you. 

Any urge you had to respond kept dying before it could be expelled. What do you even say to a situation like this? He was so at ease, explaining himself like a truly remorseful lover would. To anyone who didn’t know his inflection, that’s where it would end;  but you were so in tune with him, you could hear the edge of entertainment that his words carried. Maybe he was sorry, maybe he just liked seeing you unsure.

“I’m gonna make it up to you.” Your breath stumbled as he said it, your wrists grating unconsciously against the confines. “But it hurt my feelings when you ran like that.” He put a hand to his heart as he spoke, emphasizing his words. “So I’m gonna hurt you a little, too.” You felt the point of the blade make contact with the skin that his thumb had been smoothing over minutes before. It was enough to make the first tear fall from the corner of your eye. There was no pressure, just the threat of his words ringing true. Even in this scenario out of most peoples’ nightmares, you still didn’t think he’d truly hurt you, not irreparably. He’d always had sadistic tendencies, you even sometimes - shamefully - thought about the potential that was undoubtedly lurking beneath the surface of his presentability. He could get mean sometimes, especially when he was high, but never like this. He was sober, you could see it in his eyes and the way he moved. He just wanted to do this, wanted to be in control. 

He could practically feel the mesh of emotion seeping from your veins, taking longer than necessary to talk just to watch you soak in it. “Just enough to teach you some manners, honey.” His thumb trailed a line of pure heat along your jaw. “Don’t worry. You’ll probably even like it, knowing you.” 

A weird feeling jolted through the active nerves in your stomach. It was such a direct callout, based in certainty that he carried in his voice. You felt caught, recalling all the times he most likely knew exactly what you were thinking. Another tear streamed down the side of your face. 

The steel in his hand glistened in the low light of your bedroom, the sharpness of it being dragged down the fabric of your shirt, severing the only semblance of modesty you had left; the material draping open and bearing your skin to him. You’d been practically ready for bed by the time you took your walk, foregoing any additional coverage underneath the shirt, leaving all of you vulnerable to the exploration of his eyes. He pushed the sagging cloth to hang more off your shoulders, grazing his hands over the naked parts of you. It was gentle, restrained, like he couldn’t bear the time it would take to touch all of you because he needed it that badly. 

You felt the sting of an opening wound a second later, a whimper barely fleeing your throat. It wasn’t deep, he didn’t push hard. His lips parted as the blood rose to the surface of the small cut, pooling within it and releasing a single drop to pour down the side of your stomach. Before it could gain traction, he smeared the runny crimson, letting the liquid coat the print of his thumb. His pupils dilated at the sight, his breath coming out shakier than he’d like as his blood seemed to thrum in his veins. 

Your face twisted at the feeling, molten lava pooling in your stomach and burning you from the inside out. You felt hot, immune responses and arousal both running rampant in your body. You’d never felt more awake. He lowered his head to your exposed collarbone, brutally reminiscent of the night that predated this one. “See? Not so bad.” He led his hand up to your mouth, palm skimming your side as he hovered his thumb above your sealed lips, muttering out a request to open your mouth for me and you did because he was inexplicably intoxicating. Your tongue was coated in bitter metal combining with the discreet and slight flavor of his skin. You felt dizzy. 

He mouthed down the expanse of your upper body, leaving patches of your skin shiny with his saliva and stinging from the occasional love bite he would leave. He marked his places of affection with small cuts, each one sending a wave of warmth lower and lower, fanning the flames down to where he would ultimately end up. He would kiss over each future scar he left on you, a bloody comparison to your relationship as a whole, his actions making your heart ache and your back arch. You had been trying your hardest to stay quiet, trembling exhales being the only thing you couldn’t suppress; but he had a way of wearing you down in the most pleasurable ways imaginable, gradually building you up to the whimpers that were slipping past your crumbling resolve. 

With caring hands, he pulled at the waistband of your pants, folding them out from under your hips and bending each of your legs forward to get them fully off of your legs, laying them back down once he had. The room felt colder than it ever had. He stared with pride at the state of your perpetually clenched thighs, groping at the tense muscles. “What’d I tell you, huh?” He tucked the blade of the knife under the seam of your underwear, pulling up and slicing clean through them. “I don’t know why you want out when you like it so much.” Cutting the other seam, he let the fabric slide off of you, discarding the shreds of useless hindrance and taking in the full sight of you. 

You didn’t know why you ran either. You did like it. You liked it so fucking much that it scared you. Maybe it was a fear of feeling good, or a fear of what this kind of connection would inevitably do to you, what kind of a man he was. You’d tried to leave him and ended up panting, wet skin glistening and covered in gashes; and the worst part was you liked it. How the fuck could you like something like this?

He left various other claims of territory on your thighs. Teeth marks, nicks from the knife, worshipping kisses of a man in love. Everything action committed against your wanting flesh had so much emotion laced in it that you could barely take it. You were overwhelmed, your brain half shut down, only stopping itself from going dark because then you wouldn’t be able to feel him, to accept what he was giving you. 

He pushed your thighs out of their locked state, soothing over the irritation littered on them with his thumbs and his lips, dulling the sting with an even greater ache that was bleeding directly into the center of you. You felt like he’d lit you on fire. 

The tip of his index finger scorched a line up the place you’d been anticipating, shamelessly gliding in copious arousal that had been pooling since you saw him leaning on the hood of that car. It was a touch that seemed to pump life back into you, invigorating and familiar. Something you missed so much that you were sure you’d never be able to fathom the depth of it. He cursed, quiet and breathy; and you groaned at the feeling of friction, even if it was just a little. 

His mouth on you was sudden, but not rushed; the spontaneity of it forcing a gasp from you. His actions were calculated, arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you open, malleable and pinned. His hands were tense on your legs, fingers digging in tight as if he was struggling with his own internal grievances. You weren’t sure if it was restraint, or desperation, or something uncharted between the two of you. It was scary to think that something could be undefined right now, that maybe he was lost too. 

The warmth of his mouth on you after already having your body thoroughly overworked nearly knocked you unconscious for the second time that night. Your head was as thrown back as it could be given the state of your arms, chest reaching for the ceiling. Your poor wrists burned in the grit of the rope, but it only seemed to add to the peak you were being pushed to. He brought his index finger to sweep through the bountiful wetness in between your legs, this time pushing in and curling up, his second finger joining soon after. 

“Gyu - please -” The nickname was so domestic, something that hadn’t left your lips in months but seemed to feel as natural as breathing in this moment. The loving tone hit him like a wave, drawing a reflexive groan from his mouth. His eyes were practically black from how much his pupils encompassed the iris, his own eyes looking a little watery as a less extreme mimic of yours.

“Missed the way you taste.” The auditory affirmation paired with his fingers and his mouth sent you toppling. His fingers never let up, his mouth detaching to plant light kisses on the bone of your hip, looking up at your breathtaking form with an awestruck gaze that you couldn’t see through your closed eyes and tilted back head. 

You panted, thinking it was over. Maybe he’d fuck you, or maybe he would make you tea and the two of you would finally talk about things. He just moved his soaking fingers up to your clit, your body jumping slightly at the sensitivity. 

“Wait-” 

“Shh, just take it.” He spoke low and moved back to where he was, starting again when you had barely started coming down. His declaration of making it up to you rung in your ears. How long was long enough to be considered even? You writhed with overstimulation as you thought about it. Ten minutes? Thirty minutes? An hour? Your second orgasm hit you hard in the middle of your useless inquiries, and you realize it didn’t really matter.

You were in for a long fucking night regardless.

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃❮𓁿❯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃

tags: @mitsxuri @citarnosis @namgyunation (tagging you lovely folks because you all mentioned wanting more content. please let me know if you want your @ removed and i will do it ASAP <3)