#(but if you ARE being serious: sincerely fuck off <3)

[askthearthurnoir]

u keep using the same old sprites and it gets soooo boring. get urself new ones pleeeeeaaaaaseee

"What do you mean, 'sprites'?"

[m0llygunn]

shy girl (eddie munson x fem!reader)

summary: typically shy, you aren't good at telling eddie what you want. finally brave enough to ask, eddie happily rewards you

cw: 18+!, mature language, petnames, smut, pinv sex (unprotected), creampie, anal fingering, shy/nervous first time anal reader idk, lots of praising, porn with very little plot an: wrote this a while ago and was suppose to be a 3 part butt stuff saga lol but i probably won't do the other 2 parts if im being honest. makes sense alone, theres just clearly a segue for the other parts at the end. kind of edited but not really. wc: 3.6k+

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Your stomach clenches, whole body quivering with nerves.

“Y’okay?” he asks from behind you, finger just barely brushing over the focus of tonight.

“M’okay,” you answer tentatively.

“You don’t sound okay?”

“I want to do this,” you say with an exhale, forcing your muscles to relax. You drop the side of your head further into the plushness of the pillow, back arching deeper as you breathe away the low vibrations of your nervousness. 

His hands rise up your lower back, palms flat to your skin. “You don’t have to.” He glides both thumbs up the sides of your spine before rounding them outwards, massaging an achy spot you didn’t know existed. You relax into it, taking another breath. 

“I want to, Eddie. Wanna try it.”

His thumbs return to the base of your spine before gliding upwards, doing it all again. You could fall asleep if he kept doing this— but you don’t. You push yourself up, craning your neck to see him perched behind you on his knees. His eyes flicker up from the movements of his hands on your lower back to meet your gaze.

“Eddie, I’m serious. I want to try it,” you convince, eyeing him. His naked chest glistens in a faint sheen of sweat under the warm light of the bedroom, courtesy of the ample foreplay that brought you both here. His disheveled hair is further proof of how the night has gone. He raises his brows, showing off the sincerity in his widened eyes, hands paused on your skin. 

“If it’s just for me, I’m fine with how we usually have sex— I love your pussy,” he smiles crookedly.

Worked up, bare, his cock already hard, and so close to your soaked entrance— it would be easy to give in and let him fuck you stupid, but you prepared for this, you thought endlessly about this, you want this. 

“I’ve never done anal before though, wanna try it at least once.”

His hands resume their movements, this time gliding down and over the roundness of your ass. His thumb brushes over where you want him.

“You sure?” he asks.

“Yes, Eddie. Please.”

“It’s gonna take a while if you don’t want it to hurt. We coulda been warming you up if you told me earlier.”

Your back arches deeper as you deflate, pressing your face forward into the pillow. You knew Eddie had more experience than you, you knew he’s done this before with other people, but you didn’t know how to bring it up. It was only in the heat of the moment when you managed to let the words slip from the tip of your tongue despite planning to say them at the beginning of the evening. At least this time you got the message out, last time you got ready for this, you chickened out on telling him what you wanted and went without.

Eddie brushes his thumb over your hole again before traveling down to your cunt, dipping into your wetness. Shallowly, he circles his thumb in your entrance.

“Shoula told me earlier, pretty girl,” Eddie says and your stomach drops with disappointment. You know you should have, you told him too late and now you have to wait again. 

His thumb pulls out from your cunt, trailing upwards. 

“Shoulda told me earlier, cause now I’m all worked up and need you— but you’re shy, aren’t you?” His voice drops to a low rasp that makes your disappointment vanish, heated excitement taking its place. “My shy girl, too nervous to tell me she wants me to fuck her in the ass.”

The warmth of your slick on his thumb circles around your puckered hole lightly, teasingly. 

“Are you my shy girl?” he asks.

You nod your head, the sound of ruffling cotton on your pillowcase acting as your response. You know Eddie doesn’t appreciate your lack of a real answer when his thumb stops it’s movement.

“Yes, I’m your shy girl,” you say quickly, wanting him to keep going.

“Good girl. My good, shy girl,” he hums. His thumb resumes circles before gliding right over your hole, adding increasing pressure that has your stomach squeezing. You hum happily, enjoying it so far but it doesn’t last for long when he removes both hands from you.

“Touch yourself, baby. Want to see your fingers in your pussy while I get your ass ready for my cock,” he says and your stomach flips.

“Touch myself?” you ask.

“Too shy to touch yourself f’me?” he asks, amusement laced in his voice. You hum, turning your head briefly into the pillow to hide, before taking a breath. 

“No,” you reply, the bashfulness of your voice telling both of you otherwise. You bravely snake a hand under your body, holding your hand flat over your mound. 

“That’s a good girl, let’s see you sink your little fingers into that pretty cunt.”

Hot and wet, your fingers glide in easily, an audible squelch of wetness sounding out that makes your skin heat from your neck all the way up to your cheeks. Eddie groans from behind you and it gives you the confidence to pull your fingers out, starting a slow pump. 

“Thatta girl, keep doing that,” he praises and you hear the mattress shuffle behind you. 

You turn your face to see Eddie but when you catch his gaze, he pointedly looks towards your cunt, reminding you with a raised brow to keep going. He shuffles off the bed, moving to the bedside table. Seconds later, with a clear bottle in hand, he crawls back into the bed, moving to sit behind you again. 

With the pop of a lid opening, your fingers pause as your mind’s focus shifts to what Eddie’s doing.

“Keep going baby,” he's quick to prompt. “Just gonna warm up some of this lube in my hands and we’ll get you started, okay?”

“Okay,” you reply meekly, making slow wiggles of your fingers inside of yourself, movements far too shallow and tame to get yourself off. 

“Gotta relax baby, focus on playing with yourself,” he guides as you hear the slickness of the lube being rubbed between his hands. He finally makes contact between your cheeks, rubbing the warmed up liquid over you. 

You try to continue plunging your fingers in and out of yourself but your attention wanes as the pads of his fingers rub circles over your hole. 

You resist the nervousness that threatens to creep in. It’s not that you don’t trust Eddie. You trust him more than yourself, it’s just new and you’re not sure what to make of it yet.

“Can you tell me what you’re doing?” you ask shyly. 

A gentle palm meets your lower back again, warmth spreading over your skin as he rubs soothingly. An appreciated affection that calms your nervousness. 

“’Course, baby,” he answers. “Just getting you ready and lubed up. The slicker you are, and the more relaxed you are, the easier it’ll be.”

You hum an agreement, trying your hardest to focus on fingering yourself. You start building a steady rhythm when Eddie’s hand pauses.

“Gonna start small, okay? Just gonna use my little finger at first— see how you like it.”

“Mhm, okay,” you agree. With his one hand still rubbing a soothing massage on your lower back, you feel the prod at your hole, slow and gentle.  

“Just, relax,” he hums quietly, “mhm, just like that, baby.” His little finger pushes into the tightness, and your own fingers pause completely as you take a moment to decipher the feeling. 

His hand slides from your lower back, down to rest on your hip. His finger pushes in the slightest bit further. When you feel the knuckle of his finger your whole body moves forward, away from the intrusion instinctively. 

“Hurts?” he asks, letting you pull away, leaving just the tip of his finger inside you. 

You shake your head. It’s not pain, it’s not something you’ve really felt before. “Just feels weird,” you answer, relaxing back towards him. 

“Wanna stop?”

“No,” you reply with another shake of your head. “Keep going, please,” you say when he makes no further moves. 

He pushes his little finger into you again, knuckle pushing past the band of tightness but this time you don’t pull away, you breath through the odd feeling. 

“How’s that?” he asks, stilling his finger inside you. 

“Feels… fine? Not bad, just… tight.”

“Yeah, s’really tight,” he breathes. You feel his finger wiggle the slightest bit and it makes your stomach clench from the strange sensation. 

“Wanna play with your clit for me? It’ll make it feel better.”

“What are you gonna do now?” you ask, wanting him to talk you through it some more. 

“Get you used to this, just go slow, in and out for now,” 

Gliding your fingers out from your cunt, wetness gathered between your fingers, you move to make circles on your clit, letting out a breath at the distracting pleasure.

Eddie starts slow movements of his finger, pulling it out before pushing it back in. With your fingers working your clit and the added pressure, you hum a quiet moan. 

“Feel good, baby? Like having my finger in your ass?”

“Like it, feels good so far,” you answer, picking up the speed on your clit. 

You get so lost in the buzzing throughout your body that Eddie’s words go in one ear and out the other as he guides you through the next step. You almost don’t notice him switching from his little finger to his middle, only when he gets to the knuckle again do you notice the extra stretch. Surprised, despite him telling you what he was doing, a gasp pulls from your lungs and your circles on your clit stutter. 

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, just surprised me.” 

“Tell me if it starts to hurt, okay?”

You agree and Eddie starts a slow thrust in and out. The feeling is… interesting. It’s like pressure and quite different from when he’s in your pussy. 

When his knuckle slips in and out with ease, you feel yourself get excited.

“Ready for more,” you chirp quietly. 

“Yeah? Ready for two of my fingers?”

“Mhm, ready for ‘em, Eddie.” Your belly pools with heat just at the idea of two of his fingers inside of you. Your pace on your clit picks up again, having slowed down so you didn’t cum just yet.

He does it methodically, pulling his finger out until just the very tip is left inside of you. Then he adds his second, pushing inside of you so slowly that you nearly feel like pushing back into him— until he gets to the hilt of his knuckles again. 

Biting your lip, the stretch is close to being painful and you can’t help the way you tense. Eddie stills.

“My ambitious girl, thought she could take more already. S’hurting isn’t it?”

“No,” you lie unconvincingly. 

“No?”

“Just feels like a stretch,” you say, voice coming out squeaky. 

“Yeah? Wanna keep going?” 

You pause before nodding your head. “Wanna keep going,” you answer, continuing slow circles on your clit. 

His fingers prod deeper, knuckles stretching you out and adding pressure. When he finally has both fingers fully inside you, you let out a breath you had held in that clearly you nor Eddie realized you had held in.

“Baby, you gotta keep breathing. If it’s too much, tell me,” he admonishes gently, rubbing his opposite hand along your hip.

“It’s not too much… it’s just different. I want it so bad, Eddie.”

“I’m so fucking hard, you’re not making this easy for me,” he laughs softly.

“I do. I've been thinking about it for a long time. Really want it just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Sweet, shy girl, you can tell me anything. You know I’d never say no to you,” he says as he starts moving his fingers again. You make a conscious effort to breathe, taking deep inhales and extended exhales. 

When he eventually gets you used to his two fingers, the way he twists his wrist with each plunge has you humming in the intimate pleasure. More than anything, the thrill of it all is what has you enjoying this the most. It feels good so far but you need more.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah, pretty girl?”

“Can you…” you trail off, shyness creeping in.

“Can I?” he prompts, slowing his fingers.

“Can you… can you do that but…” you trail off again.

“Anything you want baby, just gotta ask,” he says softly, hand rubbing along your hip still, encouraging you to say what you want to say.

“I want you to do that and fuck me too,” you say in a quick breath.

“Yeah?”

“Please.”

Eddie laughs softly, his gentle massaging hand turns into a quick squeeze. “I can do that, want me to stuff both your hole, fill you right up?” he asks salaciously.

You pussy clenches at the thought and you need it more than anything.

“Please, Eddie.”

He sinks his fingers deep into your ass, making you moan, lighting every nerve up in your body. He shuffles behind you, free hand guiding your thighs wider to accommodate himself.

“Gonna make you feel so full, you want that don’t you? You been thinking about it?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum. “Been thinking about it for so long, Eddie.”

“Gotta tell me these things, baby. Want to know every dirty thought of yours,” he grumbles in a deep baritone. His fingers twist with the movements of his wrist and you feel the prod of his cock as he drags it through your folds, catching your clit before lining himself up. 

“Please,” you whisper, pushing back into him. He lets out a low chuckle and he spares you your additional pleas that sit on your tongue as he pushes inside of you. 

The stretch of the head of his cock makes you whine and with the addition of his fingers in your ass it’s a fuller pleasure, one that gets more intense as he pushes deeper inside of you. 

“Eddie,” you whimper out, dropping your head to the pillow. 

“I know baby, s’a lot isn’t it?”

“Feels good Eddie,” you whine, arching your back deeper.

“Yeah? You like being filled up?”

“Love it, Eddie.” 

He draws his hips back and your stomach flips just at the thought of the pleasure to come. When he pushes back in, his fingers wiggle inside of you and your breath catches. He does it again and you swear your head goes fuzzy. 

He starts slow, his hips thrusting slow and lazily, barely grazing the backs of your thighs with each stroke. His fingers are what makes your breath stutter. He twists them in and out with the swirl of his wrist, and each time he sinks his cock inside of you, it adds unique pressure that has you reeling. Most of all, you like that it’s him doing it— you feel a profound intimacy having him like this that makes your chest squeeze alongside the burn in your lungs from having every breath stolen. 

“Want to add another finger,” he says and you let out a drawn out whimper. He coos, rubbing his free hand along the round expanse of your cheek and up to your waist. “I know you can take it, you’re doing so good f’me.”

“I can take it,” you nod into your pillow. 

He pulls back from you, enough to have just the tip of his cock inside, and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from pushing back into him. That feeling vanishes when you hear the click of the bottle lid.

“Just gonna add more lube, okay? Make sure you’re nice and slick for me,” he says in a soothing cadence.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you say. He huffs a quiet laugh and you hear the wet sound of the lube in his hand. 

“Don’t gotta thank me, pretty girl. I’m having fun back here,” he chuckles and your heart skips a beat at the thought of him enjoying this. It’s a warm feeling— the shared pleasure, it’s hard to explain but just feels good being together like this. 

Pulling his fingers almost all the way out, you feel his other fingers glide around your entrance. When he shifts, you take a deep breath. 

“Good girl,” he praises. 

His free hand finds your lower back again and the stretch of a third finger starts. It’s a lot this time. A lot more than all the other stretches. 

“Just breathe, there you go. Doing so good,” he soothes in a low voice. Feeling a heightened sensitivity, you don’t miss the way his cock twitches and throbs inside of you. While the stretch tinges painful, you focus your attention towards that, feeling the way his excitement kicks up in his cock. 

The stretch doesn’t give way to pleasure, but the pleasure comes from somewhere else. Somewhere deep inside where you feel connected to Eddie. You’re his like this, physically but emotionally as well. All his. It makes you throb, and you reach between your legs chasing that feeling. 

“Fuck, there you go,” Eddie says, voice turning gravelly. His cock kicks up again and he lets himself push forward, sinking halfways inside of you. 

His fingers, just barely past the knuckle, shift inside of your tight hole and it has you lighting up in a searing pleasure— pain speckled but so rewarding when Eddie lets out a deep grunted moan. 

“Don’t think I’ll last, baby,” he says in a strangled breath. 

“Just fuck me, please. Need it so bad Eddie. Need you.”

He huffs a deep exhale. His hand on your lower back pushes you down into a deep arch and you meld to the way he needs you. His fingers shift again and it’s like fire in your veins. You rub quick circles against your clit and with a deep breath that tickles across your spine as Eddie lets it out, he thrusts. 

Guttural and from deep inside of you, you let out a pleasure ridden moaned cry. 

He pulls back and rolls his hips to yours. 

You’ve never felt so full in your life and you love it. It’s thrilling, it’s connecting, it’s masochistically beautiful, and it pools in your lower belly, making your stomach clench in rigid convulses. 

“Fuck, feels so fucking good,” Eddie groans. His breath is heavy and only adds to your pleasure. “You like both your holes being filled don’t you, can feel you squeezing me so tight,” he says in a deep grunted babble.

Your moans surpass their usual shy quietness, and the way your pitch raises is barely within your control. If you didn’t feel so conscious-shatteringly good, you might be embarrassed about how your voice echos off the walls. Normally Eddie’s the vocal one, and even with his drawn out groans, grunts, moans, and dirty talk that choruses alongside your own, you’re undeniably loud and it has Eddie’s thrusts stuttering already. 

He presses his fingers downwards inside of you and it’s like something shatters. You’re almost at your climax, but that small movement has his cock pressing perfectly against your g spot, and the stretch, the subtle pain, and the blatant pleasure of your fingers on your clit have your muscles seizing. He thrusts as deep as he can, moving quickly in and out to push you over the edge, and you erupt into shakes that tremor through your body. 

Your legs threaten to give out and your head turns foggy with buzzing luxury. His thrusts continue and even with your eyes squeezing shut, your vision gets darker until you see the sparkle of your pleasure peaking through like stars. 

Eddie spews moans and grunts after whimpers and curses, and pulling his fingers from your ass, he quickly grabs hold of your hips in a pinching grip. Staying planted in your cunt, he chases you downwards on the bed when your legs finally give out. He follows you, prolonging your high, and finding his own as he fucks you into the mattress. 

“Fucking Christ— fuck, fuck,” he grunts, hips slapping heavily to your ass in quick thrusts. The bruising grip he has on you, and the urgency of his broken curses tell you he’s on the edge. He sinks his cock deeply inside of you, convulsing balls pressing against your cunt, and you feel the subtle warmth of his orgasm fill you up. Working himself through his high in shallow thrusts with stuttered grunts, the room is silent as you’re reduced to levelling breaths. You feel as light as air with the pleasure of electricity strumming through every inch of you. 

He’s pressed to your back, both of you completely collapsed to the mattress but you need to feel more of him. You shift, reaching backwards, and like he reads your mind he’s already searching for you with an open hand. 

He pulls out, rolling to the side and you follow, moving yourself to lay against his chest. His hand in yours, it’s sticky and wet and full of lube but you hold it tight, squeezing it within your own. He squeezes back. 

You hum with more satisfaction and good feelings inside your chest than you can communicate. Eddie brings his other hand to your back, rubbing it up and down, replying with his own hum. 

“That was really good,” you mumble, leaning your cheek to his sweat damp chest.

“So fucking good,” he nearly growls, the tone of his voice proving the assertion of his truth. 

You laugh softly, pressing a kiss to his chest. His heart hammers below your ear and the rise and fall of his chest soothes you, relaxes you. 

“My shy girl,” Eddie hums and from the lightness of his tone you know he’s smiling. Feeling brave from your post sex high, you smile to yourself.

“I can’t wait to feel your cock in my ass,” you say. Eddie lets out a deep laugh that vibrates in his chest. 

“Not so shy now, huh?” 

Cheeks burning with your smile, you shake your head.

“Want to do you too,” you say. You lose a bit of your nerve but the dramaticized gasp you get from Eddie, you know that he knows what you mean. 

“You want to do me too?” he laughs. 

“Mhm, want to fuck your ass,” you whisper, just barely mustering the courage to say it. You’re rewarded for saying it with smooth, soothing strokes up and down your back, and a chuckle from deep inside Eddie’s chest. 

“Who woulda thought my shy girl’d be so dirty,” he says, pulling you even tighter to him, hugging you extra close. 

──────────── ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[akirathedramaqueen]

The bias is not always conscious

And that's the case with Stolas. That's it, that's basically the post, so you can count it as your tl;dr, but let me elaborate. :)

(A little gratitude note! Sorry @tealvenetianmask, I failed being concise here, but I thank you for encouraging me to put it all together :3 I also thank you for our conversations about Stolas and about museums in particular which heavily contributed to it)

I think there's some misunderstanding when people get offended by the suggestion that Stolas acts classist/racist. It seems that people assume we’re implying he is malicious and intentional with it, but the actual problem is that he doesn't think.

S2EP2, Seeing Stars, 1:29

The problematic behavior we're discussing is reflexive and internalized. Stolas was raised in an environment where the lower demon class is looked down upon, and while he believes he expresses nothing but deep respect for Blitzø and treats him as an equal…

Goodnight, Blitzø. S1EP7, Ozzie's, 14:50

And while you can see from this bow that this intention is sincere, which is both wonderful and fascinating—he preserved this profound gesture ever since he was a kid, despite being actively discouraged from doing so!...

[Stolas]: I'm Stolas! It's nice... Ouch! [Paimon]: Don't bow to that one! He bows to us! Idiot! S2EP1, The Circus, 7:40

He was still raised in privilege and influenced by the narratives around him. For him, it's acceptable because that's what he was taught is fine. It's part of his everyday speech, and he never actually asks Blitzø, or anyone else, how they feel about the literally belittling nicknames (like literally—do you notice how often he uses the word "little" when referring to imps?).

I mean... there's a lot, okay? I'm just going to pull out some examples off the top of my head. All of them are from Season 1, and I'll explain why later.

I was hoping you brave little imps would accompany us! S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 5:15

Ugh, that's better... Where's Blitzy? He's my knight in shining armor, not you, littler ones! S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 13:22

And it [grimoire] isn't supposed to be lent out to itty-bitty imps like yourself. S1EP5, The Harvest Moon Festival, 0:30

Greetings, tiny Wrath Ring imps! S1EP5, The Harvest Moon Festival, 8:22

[Stolas, in the background]: Who dares threaten my little impish plaything? S1EP6, Truth Seekers, 18:20

How the fuck did you get caught by humans? Are you little creatures not being careful up here? S1EP6, Truth Seekers, 19:38

He also takes pride in being part of Ars Goetia. That pride seeps into his mind whether he wants it to or not. He lives in a huge palace, never worries about money, can arrange a seat in a club that’s always booked out, and gets admitted to a hospital immediately, while hellhounds wait five years for a Hellbies shot.

Being part of the Goetia family is rather valuable, you know. S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 4:39

Most of these examples come from Season 1 because, after the disastrous Ozzie’s date, Stolas begins to unconsciously cut back on this language. He seems to sense that something is wrong, though he doesn’t fully understand why. However, he is acutely aware of the problems with the transaction and the unfair dynamics it creates, and he is serious about putting Blitzø on equal ground by providing him with the means to run his business independently of Stolas.

And still, he maintains full control over the conversation during the Full Moon meeting, immediately dismisses Blitzø after one mistake, and throws him out. He continues to impose his narrative on Blitzø and…

I don't look down on you! How many times do I— When have I ever?! S2EP9, Apology Tour, 2:45

When have you ever indeed, Stolas? You literally look down on Blitzø saying that. This moment illustrates the problem clearly. He isn’t lying when he says he doesn’t look down on Blitzø because he genuinely believes he doesn’t.

Despite all said, Stolas is making a tremendous effort and is progressing, and he is far ahead of Stella, who is openly classist/racist and very conscious of her biases. So I believe—no, I know—he will get there one day. But not today.

This is something I take quite seriously, and I think people need to understand how dangerous this subtlety can be, as it happens all the time in real life too.

How often do you ask yourself why medical research groups are predominantly represented by white, cis, upper-middle-class males, and how this affects the efficiency of treatments suggested in these studies for everyone else—women, people of color, non-binary folks, and those who struggle financially?

How often do you visit museums and see art created by wealthy aristocrats who defined what constitutes 'fine art,' while 'folk art'—often created by marginalized communities—is overlooked and lost to time?

I could elaborate further on how deep and cruel this bias is, but I’ll stop here. I just ask you to consider why you might get offended when someone points out Stolas's subtle bigotry and why you might downplay it compared to the loud, aggressive Blitzø, whose anger and avoidant issues are obvious.

Just sit with it.

[myouicieloz]

What Friends do

Kim Minjeong x 5thmember!reader

Synopsis: winter finds out that you and giselle have been fucking. as you grow tired of her subtle glares and questions, you ask her if she wants to try it, too. She’s hesitant about it, at first, but soon confesses that she’d love to try being edged in public, and naturally, you’re more than happy to help her with that.

Warnings: sub!winter x dom!reader. public edging + cumming. vibrators. lots of plot w a little bit of smut, I guess :) I hope this is ok ˆˆ I tried my best.

Word count: 5k

Notes: I j kept writing and suddely it was 5k long lol. honestly, I think +3k words (personally speaking) might be too much… the words start to lose their meanings and my writing kind of slacks off, yk? So it’ll try to tone it down, for any future works. that’s my opinion, tbh. what do you think?

Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3

-

“Are you and Aeri unnie a thing?” Winter asks, ever so casually. Her eyes are still glued on her phone; playing sudoku, most likely.

Her words make you choke on your milkshake, coughing violently. “What? No. of course not,” You add, curiously, “What makes you think that?”

“She checks you out all the time.” Your bandmate shrugs, tone indifferent as if she were talking about the weather. “And it’s not like you’re exactly subtle, either. You’d think her face is in her tits, with how much you ogle them.”

You frown, playing with your drink’s straw. Your encounters with Aeri were happening with some sort of frequency now, although it was rather natural— you were both needy and the sex was good and easy, so it was truly a win-win situation. However, you’ve never stopped to think about the way you acted in public. Now that you did, you could observe the truth behind Winter’s comments: you’d gotten closer to her over the past few weeks. Giselle wasn’t a naturally over affective person, but she’d often be found tugging your shirt or brushing your hips, dragging you to be closer to her whenever you wandered too far.

You gulp, reminding yourself to talk to her about it, later.

“…because if you are, then it’s ok, too.” You’ve missed most of Winter’s discourse, lost in thoughts, one she’s deeply immersed into. The older girl’s voice hushes in a low, hesitant tone, the usual confidence she’d try so hard to bring on stage all gone now. “I just wish any of you told us. I-I thought we were friends! I tell you everything. It’s not fair.”

Winter’s short, auburn hair moves with the wind’s breeze, enticing her delicate appearance. She crosses her arms, rolling her eyes once she realizes you were too distracted to pay attention to her words and give her a proper answer.

She already knows about it, somehow. And she’s hurt you haven’t told her. You realize. She’s a smart, attentive girl, of course; probably figured it out all by herself.

“Sorry, I dozed out.” You shrug as she remains silent, not backing down from getting her answer—yet not amused, either. It wasn’t uncommon for you to unintentionally drift apart during a conversation, with your unnies having to explain stuff to you two, sometimes three times, before you finally managed to maintain your focus for long enough to understand. “Ok, ok. We might’ve fucked a few times…”

Minjeong smirks; she loves to be right about things. Clapping her hands, she lets out little giggles, “I knew it! Why didn’t you tell me sooner, Y/n? We’re literally best friends!”

She was right; Winter was the one you were closest with, out of all the girls, even though none of you knew exactly why. Your personalities were rather different. However, you’d often be found talking for hours and hours over the craziest topics with insane enthusiasm. You tell her everything, and she was great at giving you advice and putting you back to your senses. She never complained, not even when your banter was too frequent or too whiny for the other members to endure.

“I’m sorry,” You apologize, sincerely. You really should’ve told her: it was nothing serious, and there was no reason in hiding it. “It just didn’t even go through my mind. It was so natural how it happened the first time—and the others… I didn’t think it would even matter.” You poke her nose, noticing the way Winter’s pout turns into a small smile. You knew she wasn’t truly upset— she simply just longs to be a part of your life. “What do you want to know, though? C’mon, I’ll tell you everything.”

Your suggestive tone is the reason Winter’s face turns as red as a tomato, sipping on her Coke Zero avidly to avoid your suggestive answer.

She does smack you when your loud laugh starts attracting them attention, though.

-

“Aeri is going out.” Winter announces, taking your AirPods off without your consent, so you’d fully focus on her.

You glance at Aeri, who’s caught up rearranging a bunch of stuff in one of her small Prada purses. Your bandmate is wearing a beautiful leopard dress with scandalous black heels, pin-straight hair falling neatly to her waist and red tint kissing her lips. She looks flawless, much different from you— too cozy in your big pajamas and disheveled hair.

“I have eyes, you know.” You mumble, but smile at the sight of the Uchinaga, dropping your nintendo on the couch and whistling to get her attention. “You look so hot, Aeri unnie! Have fun!” Aeri smiles and gives you and Winter a kiss before running towards the door.

“I will, thanks Y/nn-ie! Don’t wait up for me!” She screams as she locks the door, leaving the room silent. The only apparent tension is Winter, who stares at you with narrowed eyes.

“What is wrong with you, unnie?” You scoff, annoyed as you return to your game. Mario’s red cap and silhouette can be seen through the screen in your hands, and Winter shifts on the couch, hugging her knees as she keeps on staring at you.

“Aeri is going out. Somi-sunbaenim will be there, too.” She repeats herself, making you even more confused. Seeing your frown and how her words weren’t enough to have you interested in paying her attention, Winter grabs the device, shutting it down.

“Hey! What the fuck?” You try to take it from her hands, only for her to tighten her grip.

The auburn haired girl has, unlike you, a significant amount of strength.

“Yn, focus! Aeri is going out and Somi will be there!” Her voice is outraged, not able to understand how you were so chill about this.

“So?” You are still frowning as you try to get your nintendo back, clearly not bothered. “Somi’s fucking hot, Winter. I hope Aeri fucks her. Again, I mean. You know…”

Winter’s mouth opens to a big O, surprised by your answer. You take advantage of that moment to grab your nintendo back, although she’d managed to get your sole focus. You cock your head to the sides, engines running with the earn of being able to understand what went through her mind.

“Aren’t you jealous? Or insecure?” Winter asks, frowning.

“What? No. Why would I be?” seeing her equally confused expression, you sigh, sitting properly. “Winter, we fuck, that’s literally it. Aeri and I are friends, and will only be friends. It’s just sex, really.”

It was clear that the older girl still didn’t understand your dynamics, but she bit her tongue, not wanting to be a bitch about it.

“Ok.” She nodded, messing her hair, “I just don’t really get it, I think.”

“There’s no jealousy between us, Minjeongie.” You tell her, hoping to clarify things. “Because there’s not a relationship, get it? And there won’t be one. We are friends, and bandmates, and we like to have fun, sometimes. Nothing else.”

She stands up, still looking at you as if you were an alien.

“Ok.” Your bandmate sighs, clearly disapproving your whole dynamics. “I’ll go to my room.”

“Huh, ok.”

You stare at Winter’s back while she leaves the living room, without waiting for an answer.

-

The two of you are splashed on your bedroom’s massive rug when she mentions it again.

“So… it all started with that?” Winter asks, looking at the vibrator displayed on your desk. You grit your teeth, realizing you’d simply thrown it in the first place you saw, after cleaning it. You had found the toy when doing your laundry, and decided it wouldn’t hurt to keep it extra clean, even if it had been ages since you’ve last used it.

After the day Giselle went to the party, you started noticing how curious Winter had gotten about your relationship— or lack thereof. She’d send you subtle glances whenever the five of you were hanging out, and her questions were soon becoming more and more obvious. It was fairly noticeable, how intrigued and interested the whole thing had gotten her.

With that, Winter started seeking for details of how you and Giselle fucked for the first time, which led you to the current situation: the green vibrator displayed in your hands, teasing your friend as you playfully jiggle it onto her face. You try to hand it to her so she’ll touch it, but she retreats instead, face all red from embarrassment.

“Pretty much, yeah.” You smirk, eyeing her just as curiously, “Why are you suddenly so interested, though? Would you like to try it?”

“What, no! Ew.” Her eyes go wide at your suggestion, and Winter shakes her head vigorously. You laugh at how she looks like she’s about to combust; she’s always been so composed, and so… chaste, whenever one of you mentioned anything about sex. It’s endearing, even.

You had thought, initially, that she was simply a private person— which was more than ok, of course. However, her current reactions led you to wonder if her reactions weren’t from lack of experience, too.

“Ok, then.” You tuck your vibrator back in the drawers and brush the subject off, immediately sensing how her muscles relax, and her face changes into a mix of easy features. The last thing you’d want is to make her uncomfortable, so the change is much appreciated.

You do notice how Winter keeps biting her lip, though. And the way her eyes flicker to your drawers, before focusing back on your face. You bite your cheek, too, to prevent a big smile from covering your face. She’ll come around, just like you did. Patience was a virtue, and you would happily wait for your friend to grow confident enough to come out of her shell and take whatever she wanted to.

-

“I changed my mind.” Winter announces, staring down at you with assertiveness. You snort, pouting.

“Yeah, that’s too bad. You gave me that fucking top, there’s no way you’re getting it back.”

“No.” She rolls her eyes, annoyed. “I mean, about that other thing.”

The five of you have just finished performing at Music Bank, and you’re currently trying very hard to sit still, so the makeup artist can work on getting all the foundation out of your face. As a result, you’re unable to turn and take a proper look at your bandmate, whose voice is so quiet you barely hear her correctly.

“You mean dinner? Because we still have to cook, even though it sucks, I know. It’s our day, there’s no escape.” You frown. Winter rubs her arms nervously, eyes staring everywhere but at your face.

“No!” She’s exasperated, and impatient to know you’re not playing with her: you simply don’t understand what she’s implying. Which means she’ll have to be direct about it, nearly begging. And that’s the last thing Winter wants to do. “I want to… try what you’ve suggested, the other day. With the, ahn sex thing.”

You try your best to not make your eyes grow wide, swallowing deep to keep focus. “Ok. Do you want to do it when we get back home?”

Winter hesitates. Her hands trace patterns on the beige vanity, “I don’t know. I don’t know if I want to do it at home, either.” She seems to ponder, before adding. “But I do want to do it. Badly”.

“Ok.” You nod, smiling at her to make sure she’s comfortable and completely reassured. “We can just go with it whenever you’re comfortable, then. There’s no need to hurry.”

Winter smiles back at you, before being dragged by Ningning to film that new tiktok challenge the maknae’s been so eager to shoot. You don’t mind, though. In, fact, you thrive on watching them being the silliest, carefree versions of themselves they can, while on camera. It pleases you to know they can show such part of themselves to your fans without being scrutinized or criticized.

-

The five of you are at the mall, enjoying your day off together as if you’ve never been separated in your entire lives. You’re laying in one of the waiting room’s cushions, waiting for Karina and Ningning to be done with trying on the whole store’s winter collection. Giselle’s hands are full, too, and her critical eyes examine every piece before choosing for herself. Her expressive faces leave you curious, eager to you know what thoughts go through her mind. In fact, you get so invested in trying to guess the girl’s internal monologue, you barely notice Winter’s frame standing beside you.

You haven’t touched her at all, not ever since she’s confessed to you about her urges. You know Winter must be fuming, whimpering with need and the desire to be relived, or simply touched, in any ways you’d like. Your intention was to leave the idea of being pleasured linger on your bandmate’s mind. The flashes going through her brain for weeks until she was nothing but pliable and ready for your commands, searching restlessly for an orgasm that she’d have to work really hard for.

It was the sweetest part, out of all of it. Being able to see Winter jump slightly whenever your fingers brush her skin, like a lost, fragile bunny. You adore it.

“Y/n.” She whines, and you can hear the neediness in her voice, no matter how much she tries to hide it. “I don’t want to wait, anymore. I want it now.”

You roll her eyes at her demands, even though you’ve already decided you’ve had enough playing, too.

“I do have something for you, Winter.” You tell her, reaching your arms out. Once she gets to you, you kiss her hands, ever so gently. “Something to make you feel better. To kill the urges that have been going on your body for weeks, now. Would you like it?”

Her voice falters. “I thought you had forgotten about t-that.”

“Oh, I could never.” You think your smirk will surpass your face, with how much you’re smiling. Ever since she’d pleaded for you to touch her, your mind has been plagued by the numerous ways you’d take her, ruining her pretty little body until she was passed out, drunk on her orgasms. “Shall we, then?”

Truth be told, the anticipation you’ve built was starting to get to you as much as it riled Winter up.

She was confused to be guided to the restroom stalls rather to the car. Were you not taking her home? How else would you get a taste of her, like you promised, then?

Her thoughts, however, dissipated once you started to unbutton her jeans, letting the loose piece fall through her knees.

“W-What are you doing?” She paled, trying to reach for them back. Her back hit the wall, and she was once again reminded of how petite she truly was, cornered by your frame. She tried her best to nudge you, hoping to get you off her. Your feet, however, were stamped onto the ground, and the grip you had on her hips was a tad too strong. She gulped, realizing you’ve allowed her to overpower you every time you played games or competed for something. “Someone might c-come in, Y/n. Please…”

It aroused you to have her begging so quickly. You’d barely touched her, yet there she was: with her mouth half open and her fingers poking, scratching your neck. You smiled.

“They can.” You confirmed, seeing her gulp. “We better not take long, then. Right? We wouldn’t want anyone to see you like this. You look so pretty, though. I wish you could see yourself, right now.”

Your words were nothing but true. She looks so adorable, it leaves you aching. Your hands twitch, tense with how much you’ve envisioned groping her tiny body and sticking your fingers up in her cunt until she was screaming loud enough for everyone in that store to know what you were up to.

You’d wait for her to come around and be confident, though, just like Giselle did to you. Besides, the anticipation was part of the fun.

She hums, already feeling herself become lightheaded by your praises. Soon enough, Winter finds herself getting distracted by your sweetness, and it’s not long until she’s completely relaxed under you. In fact, she’s so engrossed by your frame, she barely registers your hand. It trails lower, and your fingers brush her clit through her small panties.

Winter drops her head, even though she’s no longer worried, and looks up to meet your eyes.

“I did say you were going to get what you’ve been asking for, didn’t I, dearest?” You explain, focused on her big orbs. Winter’s eyes observe your every move, attentive. “And you’ve been doing so good with the shows and rehearsals… You deserve a treat, naturally.”

You allow your hand to cub her sex, slowly caressing it as you feel her shiver under you. With gentle manners, you insert two of your fingers into her cunt, smirking to find her already dripping wet. She moans so loud you start placing small, wet kisses down her neck, to gather her focus back to you and not to the deep, unhurried pleasure your fingers provide her, now pulling in an out in a slow rhythm.

Taking all of her in, you add, “Do you like this, Minjeongie? The thrill of knowing someone might walk in and know how dirty you are, spreading yourself for me with such ease?” You smirk, not resisting on rubbing her clit for a few seconds, before your fingers find the place they were meant to wander for so long. “God, your cute little cunt is so wet already.”

You let out a little laugh, reminding of yourself of your intentions as you retrieve your fingers from her pussy, making her lick them clean. She does so, like a good, obedient girl.

“You always excel in everything, unnie. Such a good job you’re doing.” You praise the girl locked in your arms, immediately shutting down her needy whines and complaints.

“Please don’t stop…” Whatever words Winter’s had in mind die the moment she spots a small toy in your hands. You flicker it between your fingers, allowing her to process what you intended to do. “It this—“

“What you’ve told me about? Yes, it is.” You smile, making a show of sucking and getting the vibrator wet for her yourself. This time, it’s her turn to have a darkened gaze, one filled with hunger. Her attention is all on you: on your next movements, on your body. You adore it. “I even got it in purple, just like you had told me. It’s so pretty, Winter. A pretty little toy for a pretty girl, begging to be ruined.” You murmur, getting to your knees and facing her pussy. Your gaze never leaves hers, careful to not miss a single breath of hers.

Winter is truly a sight, and you want to make sure you’d remember all of her sensitive, fast responses.

In fact, you were actually very surprised when Winter went to your room in the middle of the night, confessing about her few, failed sexual experiences and what she’d like to try, someday. It wasn’t unusual for you to talk about sex with your bandmates, although Winter never spoke about herself to you— at least, not directly. However, the two of you were already used to talking about numerous topics, and the conversation went by easily enough. You were pretty surprised to hear her confess, with a quiet tone, about how much the thought of herself being tossed around like a doll aroused her. How she sometimes fantasized about doing things in public, yet hidden enough so people wouldn’t be completely sure about her actions. It pleased her, knowing she’d be clouding their minds, leaving them wondering without a proper answer. Though they’d have their doubts, no one would have a clue about it: that was what aroused her the most.

Of course, you were more than eager to make her wishes come true, and the current time seemed like the perfect one to do just that.

Winter’s pretty cunt’s all on display for you, and you can’t help but to get a taste of her. So, of course, you do so: parting her folds, you give her clit a brief, sloppy kiss. You feel your friend’s delicate fingers forging a firm hold onto your hair, and Winter tries her best to not make any noises. It’s the same as nothing, though.

She is, just as you had imagined it, too sensitive.

“No! Y/n, don’t tease…” She huffs, frustrated. As the toy slips inside, she can’t help but to let out a high-pitched scream—one that’s muffled by her own hands, who run towards her mouth in hopes to keep herself quiet. Her shoulders shake due to her laughs, then, as she fails terribly.

Seeing her so carefree is more than enough to have you giggling, too. You mess her hair, pinching her cheeks.

“Behave, ok? If you’re good enough ‘till the end of the day, I might reward you when we get home.” You promise Winter as you get up, zipping her pants back to place adn kissing her cheek.

The look she gives you assures you she’ll be anything but.

-

“Are you okay, Minjeongie? Your face is all flushed.” Karina asks the red-haired girl, as the oldest sits beside you at the restaurant.

The three of you nod, and Ningning is quick to put her palm over Winter’s forehead.

“You’re hot, too. And all sweaty. Were you this sick earlier in the afternoon?” She asks, with a worried tone. Winter takes a sip of her water, hoping to collect herself before answering her bandmates, but nearly drowns herself in it once you increase the intensity of the vibrations. They echo into her cunt, making it impossible for her to answer anything straight.

She was so stupid, thinking it was an easy task: walk around with the girls as they tried some clothes on, then attend dinner, and soon to go back to their dorms, where she’d get her reward for being a good girl and finally get properly fucked, like she had silently begged you for so long. No, she was a smart, attentive girl. How could she not have predicted that stupid toy would send such hums deep into her walls? It was difficult to stay still, and nearly impossible to focus or to keep her mouth shut. In fact, she feared deeply she’d just end up moaning loudly if she even tried to speak anything.

Luckily for her, you decide to give her a few moments of peace. As soon as the settings were back to its lowest, she takes another long gulp, with deep breaths, too.

“I’m all good, really. Just tired from walking around so much.” It’s all she manages to say, avoiding Ningning’s lingering touches.

“We should get you to the doctor, perhaps.” Giselle suggests. Her eyes, however, are not focused on Winter. Her attention is all on you, instead. Her gaze is so strong you turn your head away, looking everywhere but to your best friend.

“No! No, there’s no need for that.” Winter gesticulates, nodding and moving her upper body as much as she’s able to without getting the toy to budge. She tries her best to prove to her friends she was indeed ok. “Really, I’m sure it’ll pass once the food c-comes fuck.” Winter stands up abruptly, leaning on her arms to lift herself up as her legs felt like pure jelly. “Nervermind. I j-just have to use the restroom real quick. If you’ll excuse me.”

So, Winter leaves, without waiting for an answer. Almost instantly, you get up too, setting your napkin aside in a calming motion.

“I’ll go help her, girls. Don’t worry.” They all nod, their features completely diverting from one another; while Karina is frowning, Ning keeps alternating her looks into you and the hallway Winter has just disappeared into, torn between letting you handle the situation or stepping up and helping her unnie herself, and Giselle… Giselle has a blank expression, the engines running inside her mind.

Her long nails tap the wooden table in a steady rhythm, staring at your back as you leave them be, walking into the restroom to meet your bandmate. You make sure to lock the door once you get inside, too.

The room is exquisite, a perfect portrait of the whole establishment; embroiled with white and red, the adornments are carefully thought to have the room give off a harmonious, eloquent vibe. You don’t pay much attention to it, though. Instead, your gaze is focused on the girl in front of you, the one who’s gripping the sink with too much strength.

“Are you unwell, unnie? How can I help you?” You ask her, playfully.

Winter stares at you thought the mirror, as you approach her. Her teeth are clenched, her clothes are nibbled and her looks hold fire in them. You’re certain she could kill someone with such thing as a stare if she wanted to.

She opens her mouth, ready to throw a world of curses at you, but stops herself once you motion to your phone, now placing her vibrator at a particularly high setting.

“I’d keep some of those pretty thoughts of yours inside your head, if you’d like to cum just now.”

She’s smart, insufferably so, and you get the proof of it as soon as your words leave your mouth. Quickly, Winter’s defiant stare is gone, and she’s all pliable in your embrace, instead. She’s a whiny little mess, rubbing her teeth on your neck, licking and sucking it just slightly— though not enough to bruise.

“Let me cum, Y/n? Please? I really think I might explode.” She pleads, looking at you with her best puppy eyes. “I need it s-so bad, I swear I’ll fucking do anything, ‘promise.”

You smile at her change of attitude, nodding as you take the vibrator out of her cunt in one, swift motion, replacing it with your fingers. Your thumb works on her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure on it. Finally, you allow her to get the relief she so desperately wants.

“You can cum now, darling. Do it, then.”

The permission is all Winter needs to explode, her body throbbing as she feels so full of pleasure, with fireworks dangling from her skin into every possible part of her body. It’s so good, and she feels so complete it becomes difficult to breathe— the overwhelming sensations enough to make her shiver. She bites on your neck, then; just a single one, to keep her from screaming like she wanted to. You hold her through her orgasm, your strong arms helping to ride her through it as you whisper sweet praises in her ear. You’re proud of Winter.

You lose count of how many minutes you wait, making sure her breaths are even and stable to release her from your hold.

“You did excellent, holding up the whole time. Didn’t even let a single whimper out, in front of the girls. You took it so good, Winter…. Truly perfect.” You smirk, giving Winter’s tiny waist a reassuring squeeze. She hides her face in embarrassment, humming curses at you, but you can tell she’s delighted, too.

Grabbing her by the hips, you gently put her up on the marble. It’s an easy task, with her being so small, but the way your palms nearly circle her entire waist is enough for her face to get all flustered, once again.

Your low tone soothes Winter, who leans her head back as she feels your soft hands between her thighs, cleaning you up with paper the best you can, careful to not touch her most sensitive areas. The ghost of your fingers are enough to make her twitch, though, as much as she tries not to. Her responsiveness lets a laugh out of you, and you kiss the insides of her thighs, looking up at Winter with a reassuring smile.

“Stop saying it like that.” She murmurs, biting her bruised lip. Her hands run through her hair, just for the sake of having something to occupy herself with.

You smirk, throwing the paper away as you turn, taking a proper look at the beautiful, messy state she is. Still knelt between her thighs, you massage her thighs, palming them in big, circling motions.

“Like what?” You smirk, feigning innocence. Winter slaps you, playfully, and you shake your head, helping her to get down.

“Let’s go. The girls must be worried.” She says, trying to guide you out.

You stop her, gently grabbing her by the elbows.

“Are you really ok, though?” You ask, scanning her. “It’s ok if you still want some more time to gather yourself before going out, again. I can totally come up with something to fool them, or I don’t know—.”

Winter shakes her head, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. She’s shy, suddenly, as she answers, “I’m completely fine, I swear! Actually, I liked it a l-lot.”

You sigh, relieved. “Ok, ok. But if you feel otherwise, tell me. Deal?”

“Deal.” Your bandmate assures you, reaching out for the door. Before you leave, she calls for you quietly, “Y/n?”

You hum, staring at her still-flustered face.

“Thank you, you know. For… all of that.” Winter says, giving vou a faint smile.

“Don’t stress about it, unnie.” You smile back, nudging her. “It’s what friends do, right?”

Winter laughs, not believing your words.

“Sure. That’s what friends do.”

[gyll-yee-haw]

I JUST FOUND YOUR ACCOUNT AGAINNN OH MY GODDDDDDDD I LOVE YOUR WORK SOOOO MUCH!! CAN YOU WRITE SOMETHING FOR DONNIE DARKO? 💕❤️

HIII, my sweet angel!!! <3

Anything you ask, my love, let's give our sweet boy some attention 😭🥺❤

Warnings: Donnie being a scared adorable baby. Unprotected sex, pain kink, dry humping, risk of getting caught, fluffy stuff...

---

You woke up to weird noises on your window. You opened your eyes, knowing exactly what you would find. It wasn't the first time Donnie broke into your room like that, but it still scared you every single time.

He usually did that so you could make out after both of your families were asleep. But at the moment you sat down, ready to ask him not to do that again without a warning, you realized those weren't his intentions at all.

He looked pale. Lost. He had dark bags under his terrified eyes. The scene was heartbreaking. He rushed to sit beside you on the bed and hugged you tightly.

"What happened?" You asked, very worried as you hugged him back.

"Frank wants me to do something really bad." He confessed. "I don't want to do it, Y/N…"

"Shit. Did you see Frank again?" You sighed. "Well, tell him you won't do it. He can't force you to, Donnie. You're a good, sweet and kind person."

"Frank never finds me when I'm with you." His fingers squeezed your arms strongly, like he was scared you would disappear and leave him lonely.

"Yeah, that big ass rabbit knows better than messing with me, I won't let him hurt my boyfriend." You shrugged.

Even on such a serious situation, you were able to make Donnie laugh. Well, it wasn't much more than a chuckle, but he seemed to relax a little.

"Come on." You told him. "We can cuddle until it goes away."

He removed his shoes to lay on his side. The two of you faced each other for a second. Then he got a little closer and you wrapped your arms around him, keeping his face buried on your chest and his soft hair brushing your chin.

"You're safe now." You said, kissing the top of his head.

He lifted his head to look at you and whispered: "I love you."

Your heart almost stopped. It was the first time he had ever said that to you. And that look in his eyes was so sincere... maybe it meant more than the words themselves.

"I love you too, Don." You smiled at him.

You were ready to go back to holding his tightly, but, before you could, he placed his hand on the back of your neck and pulled you for a kiss. A hungry one. He had so many emotions he needed to let out. He would never be able to tell you how grateful he was for you always being there, and not thinking that he was crazy. Well, he probably would be if it wasn't for you.

His hands ran through your body, ending on your butt, squeezing and pulling your hips closer to his at the same time.

He continued kissing you while his hips brushed yours until he started getting hard.

"Donnie…" You moaned into his mouth.

"Need you, baby." He told you, then quickly glued his lips to yours again, his hands going under your shirt and he began stroking your nipples very gently with his thumbs.

Your body melted under his touch and you ended up letting him do whatever he wanted to you. He kept rubbing his erection against you, and even though you were both still clothed, it drove you crazy. But only when he stopped caressing your nipples and started pinching them, was when you gave up: "Shit, Donnie… Fuck me."

He would let out one of those adorable laughs he had as you started taking your clothes off. But at the sight of your naked body craving his, he started undressing himself pretty quickly too.

You two were laying on your sides, facing each other, and he lifted one of your legs, resting it on his hips so he could have access to your entrance. He began stroking your folds and you couldn't see his face very well, because the room was dark, but you could feel that the patterns of his breathing changed. His heart was beating faster.

He grabbed his cock and entered you at once. You bit your lip to control yourself, but he moaned loudly.

"Shhh…" You whispered. "Calm down, if anyone hears us…"

"I know, sorry." He chuckled. "But you feel so good, it's hard to…"

"Well, keep your mouth busy." You smirked.

He didn't understand it at first, but you took your hand to the back of his head, guiding his mouth to the crook of your neck.

He grabbed your hips and started pulling you down on his cock. It wasn't very fast, but it was so deep, and so good.

As he kept doing it, your fingers held to his hair very tightly, pulling it a little too hard. You weren't doing it only to control your moans, you knew Donnie absolutely loved the pain. You could tell by the way his teeth digged deeper in your skin every single time.

You pulled his body as close to yours as possible and whispered in his ear: "Harder, baby, please… make me cry.", followed by bitting his earlobe hard enough to leave a purple mark.

He absolutely lost it.

He flipped you over, so now you were under him and started thrusting faster inside you. His face buried on the pillow beside your head and you could hear the muffled sound of him screaming "FUCK FUCK FUCK".

He came hard, but kept thrusting until you came too, your walls clenching around him until his last drop was finally inside you.

His body collapsed on top of yours and you wrapped your arms securely around him again.

You kept stroking his back until you felt him relax completely. Maybe a little too much. He fell asleep.

You didn't have the heart to wake him up. He was exhausted. What if he saw Frank again? It would be better for him to spend the night, even if that increased the risk of you getting caught.

You would risk anything to make him feel safe.

[he-goes-down]

Idk if u do requests but can u do a rly good slash angst where maybe he says smth hiiigh n they get into argument and then make up sex

I DO REQUESTS DW BOOKIE

ILL TRY MY BEST I HAVENT DONE ANGST IN AGES

This is absolute dookie i apologize you can shoot me in the face with a bazooka if you wish

Masterlist

Love Lies

Pairing: Slash x reader

Warnings: smut, fingering, unprotected p in v and angst , argument, fighting, crying and mention of addiction

Second Person POV:

It had been weeks since you and Slash actually had a normal conversation or even done couple things. Since the realise of the album and the money racked in, he spent the money on drugs on booze and to town everyday, coming back home late and completely out of it. You were home alone most of the time, your quality time was gone. Any time together was gone.

It was 1 am. Again. You lied in bed, rubbing your fingers together. Nervousness. You tried to give him another chance and wait for him to return. You had enough of this waiting and stressing. You turned off the bedside light and turned on your side holding the covers with irritation.

3 am rolls around, you were in a sleeping, and anxious state. But it was finally getting to you being so tired that you could drift to sleep. As you drifted Slash had came in, drunk. Falling onto the bed, groaning and mumbling. You didn’t realise he was there until the bed creaked and he slumped an arm over your waist and tried pulling you closer. You groaned in annoyance and pushed his arm off you, shifting closer to the edge of the bed. He was confused, that drunken confusion turned into drunken anger. “Hey!” He shouted with a groggy groan. He tried to out his arms around you again but you pushed him off again with a-lot more irritation. “What the fuck is the problem?” He yelled. You quickly turned on the light next to your bed side and sat up to look at him. “Are you serious?” You asked with disgust. “The problem is you coming home every night at 3 am. Saul I don’t even see you during the day! At all!” You told him. Calling him Saul drove a stake through his heart and sobered him up real fast, you’d never call him that, and now he could see you were dead serious and angry. “But-…” “But fucking what? Hm? You need to be drinking so much? You need to be around all those girls 24/7? What happened to ‘your girl’?” You shut him up. He always called you his girl and showed you off to everyone he knew. But now it was like you were invisible and forgotten. “I’m… Sorry.” He sputtered. You just rolled your eyes and groaned a ‘mhm’. You got out of the bed, “I’m going to sleep on the couch. Night.” You said as you walked to the door. Slash speed and scrambled off the bed.

“No baby please…” He said as he grabbed you arm pulling you to stay. You tried to get your arm away from his grasp but he just didn’t let go. “Please.” He begged. Your eyes went from his hand that held you to his eyes. Sparkling with tears that were forming, his face laced with worry. “ I don’t want to hear it.” You said. But you wanted to, you wanted him to say sorry and everything go back to normal. But how would you know if it will turn back. “Please baby, I’m sorry.” He pleaded. Tears now falling down his cheeks. God you couldn’t do this when he cried. Fuck it broke you. You stopped struggling under his grasped and gave him a sincere look. You went to hug him and he hugged you back holding you tight. Crying into your shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I don’t want you to leave me.” He sobbed. You were about to cry as-well, but still so much rage was filled in you. “I don’t want too either.” You told him. Thoughts were still spinning in your head as to if he’ll change. But you gave him that chance. “I love you honey.” You kissed his cheek getting out of the hug. You then told him how you still needed to cool down and that he needed to start doing something about his drinking and partying problems. You were going to walk out if the bedroom again, but Slash fell to his knees and began. “Baby please, I need you with me now.” He said, his eyes still watery.

“I’ll make it up to you, right now.” He said as he pleaded. You looked at him quizzically. “I’ll help you…” He began to speak again. His hands now on your legs trailing your thighs. “Cool down.” He finished and he began kissing your bare inner thighs and then your clothed area. You whined, you missed the feeling of him pleasing you. This was definitely making up for it. He looked up at you, his fingers moving away the fabric of your short pyjama pants, and feeling your already wet cunt. “Oh god fuck.” You moaned as he slowly entered your pussy with his two thick fingers. Stretching you out as he watched your head fling back with lust. He began to pump in and out of you. Curling his fingers and pressing against your sweet spot, making your stomach turn and legs buckled. He smirked as he watched you moan his name. He pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine, and pushed you onto the bed. Spreading your legs and pulling your pants down with one swift move. Then putting your legs over his shoulders and planting his face onto your pussy. Kissing and licking your pussy. “Fuck-… Slash…” you moaned and tangled your fingers in his hair. Slash sucked on your clit as he put his fingers back into you. Finger fucking you whilst your wet coated his fingers and dripped down his big hand. You clenched around his fingers as his tongue flicked your clit, making you writhe under him as the burning feeling in the pit of your stomach grew stronger. “Oh fuck!” Your head flew back onto the bed as you came all over his fingers and moaned curses. He pulled out his dripping fingers and licked them, getting every last drop of you in his mouth. You sighed as he now crawled on top of you, kissing your passionately. Tasting yourself as his tongue found his way into your mouth. His hips grinding against yours, feeling his big hard on against your bare cunt. “Slash… please…” you begged against his mouth. Now it was your turn to plead for him. “What is it baby?” He asked as his kiss went to attack you neck. “Fuck me.” You said. You hadn’t had his dick in you in ages and your body was begging for him. “Anything you say doll.” He told you. Taking off his clothes and tossing it to the floor before positioning himself at your aching pussy. His dick was bigger than you had remembered, you whimpered at the sight of it. He slowly penetrating you and stretching your pussy out even more. “Fuck, I love you…” he groaned as you clenched tightly around him. His head slumping in the crook of your neck. His hands held your legs pushing it back into you to get the right angle to pound into you. You moaned as he bottomed out. He pulled out swiftly and pushed back into you, hips snapping and a loud slap echoed. You screamed as he perfectly hit your g spot, making you cry with pleasure. He groaned with each thrust into you, god he could cry again, just thinking that he would have lost this from his recklessness, how could he have ever gave you up. You were so perfect in his mind. You were his and he was showing the neighbours just how much you belonged to him. You moaned loudly with each deep and fast thrust. His cock twitching inside of you as he was reaching his end. “God baby, I’m gonna cum.” He sighed, you were too, he felt you clench hard around him as his thrusts got sloppy and you both came at the same time. You coating his dick with your slick and him coating your walls with his cum.

“I’m so sorry honey, I love you so much.”

“I forgive you baby.”

A/n: THIS IS MY WORST WORK EVER IM SO SO SORRY I DONT KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT BETTER 🙁 You can yell at me all you want I apologise 🤞

[kairiscorner]

we're in the osamu era i see (　＾ω＾)

request coming up hehe (* ´ ▽ ` *)

can i request an teen/Inarizaki!osamu x gn!transfer student! reader where osamu falls HARD for reader the moment they step into the classroom and soon become friends by whatever reason u seem fits and one day osamu decides to give reader a bento box and after weeks of him giving reader bento boxes to try it leads to reader confronting him about it which leads to him confessing to them hehehebdnsvsn

ofc once again, pls take your time with this one as ik school can be overwhelming so pls make this at your own pace and don't rush <3

-sincerely, the 🧋 anon !!

mgee ... i'm in the iwaizumi headspace rn but RJSKNSIALAUWKSKWOWKSJ I NEED THIS RN !!!

*✧‧₊˚ they're the one. – osamu miya x gn!reader

"hey, um... is someone sitting here?" your honey-like voice rang out in his ears, he turned his head to look at you, his gray, smitten eyes that had the shapes of hearts in them from you. "um, no one's sitting there, y-yeah..." he mumbled, cussing at himself internally for sounding so lame. even though he didn't do much and just responded to your question, when he's around such an adorable looking face, he can't help but lose all his cool and just melt.

lunch is the only period when osamu can feel like himself, like nothing's holding him back from enjoying the food he was looking forward to eating all morning. before he could eat, though, that sweet, honey-like voice was heard again, coming from over his shoulder. "ooh, that's adorable! man, i'm jealous of your lunches..." you gushed, puffing your cheeks out involuntarily to show how jealous absolutely adorable you were. osamu's cheeks flared a bit and he cleared his throat. "well, um... weirdly enough, i'm not that hungry right now." he mumbled, taking his lunch box and handing it to you. "wanna, um... share?"

'ya fuckin' idiot, yer comin' off too strong!' he thought to himself as beads of sweat began to form on his forehead, his cheeks flaring up with a red, pinkish tint again. you clasped your hands together, and your eyes practically shone as you smiled widely. "are you serious? we can share?!" you beamed, over the moon now that he was willing to share his lunch with you. osamu nodded, looking away from you as his blush was worsening, hearing you get excited all over his simple, homemade lunch.

"if yer that discontent about the school lunches, um... i could, like... make you some." "you would?!" you exclaimed again, leaning a little close to osamu, who nodded slowly, looking away from you as much as he could. now if you couldn't notice his blush from earlier, surely, it had to be obvious to you now—but surprisingly, you hadn't noticed a glimpse of it, as slight embarrassment mixed in with your excitement at osamu's offer. "i appreciate it, but... wouldn't that be too much effort?" you asked him as he slowly shook his head. "i... don't mind." "well then, i'll help you any way i can for you! just say the word, i'll listen, i'll be there for you... sorry, what's your name?" "o-osamu." "what a cute name!" you beamed.

'fuck'.

osamu felt the heat in his cheeks worsen as you said that so casually, so brightly, without even realizing just what kind of effect you had on the poor boy. regardless, you two began this little exchange—where he'd make some bentos for you, and you'd help him out any way he needed; be it at school, acting as a helping hand in cleaning the classroom before and after school, walking with him after school, or just listening to his problems—osamu was so grateful for you being there for him, he felt like he was in an endless loop of falling for you, and falling for you even harder.

eventually, before the weekends rolled around, osamu decided to muster up the courage and hand you a special bento he was thinking of giving you for a long while now. as you two sat in the shade, he held the wrapped lunch box in his hands and contemplated with himself whether or not now was the time; but if he didn't give it now... he might never be able to have another chance to give it, so he might as well do it now. osamu called out your name, and when he got your full attention, he realized for the umpteenth time just how beautiful you looked up close—how charming and lovable your personality is, how much of a great friend you were ever since you transferred here... and how much love you made him put in all his meals for you, every day.

"this, um... this bento, i... i spent weeks trying to figure out just what to put in it, and, i know it sounds silly, but... i really wanted each ingredient that was in the making of this to really mean something to you." he confessed in stutters, his eyes darting back and forth, his cheeks reddening with every breath and pause. he handed you the bento and turned his head away from you, only darting his eyes back at you every now and then to see if you spotted his surprise.

attached to the cover of the bento box was a small brown envelope, with your name on it—it was... a letter of confession, of a love confession; osamu miya liked you. osamu miya loved you. you got all flustered at the thought after processing exactly what he meant; stammering your response back to him, but it was futile. you were both fumbling over your words, stammering, stuttering, and just acting all embarrassed and shy, like awkward teenagers that just really, really wanted to be with each other, but could never summon the courage to say so.

"i... i loved making those bentos for you, and... i think that wasn't just because i like cooking, that i like food... it was because... i liked you." he muttered out, blushing hard. you didn't respond verbally anymore, you didn't try to anymore–instead, you inched closer to osamu and shyly brought your fingers up to his own, smiling, and with a flustered expression on your face. "...and i really liked spending all that time with you, because... i really like you, too, samu."

'fuck. again.'

osamu blushed fiercely, his entire face looking like a ripe tomato, making you giggle and tease him for it. you took a piece of the food in the bento he made you and fed him, and this was like a dream come true for him; the sweetest, prettiest person who's made him head over heels in love with them... likes him back. he bit down on the utensil you used for a beat too long, still acting so, so shy–making you just want to lean over and peck a kiss on his forehead–and you did.

he immediately parted his lips and let your utensil go, blushing even harder. "...that... hey..." he mumbled, gasping as you kissed his forehead again. he could get used to it, especially now that you've found out just who and what his weakness really is: you and your affection for him, the main ingredient to the recipe to make him a melting, loving mess of the boy you adore.

[loko4koko]

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ Gojo Satoru x Reader ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

>fanart_credit: _3aem (via_twitter)

MDNI 18+

>word_count: 4086

>contents: sliiightly angsty but mostly just (very lovey-dovey) porn, reader is insecure, reader struggles with acne, established relationship, alcohol (very minor mentions), hair pulling (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), oral sex (f! receiving), explicit p in v, multiple orgasms (f! receiving), choking (f! receiving), finger sucking (m! receiving), (very brief) cervix fucking, creampie, satoru calls you baby, angel, and pretty girl a lot, satoru being the world’s #1 boyfriend hehe

he knows something is off the first time it happens, early in the morning, arms outstretched to pull you in close and cover you in kisses. he knows something is off with the way you turn away from him, smile not reaching your eyes as you try to distract him with a joke about how you need to shower.

he knows something is wrong the second time it happens, when he comes home after 3 weeks away and all he wants is to hold you. he knows something is wrong when he cups your face with his large hands and you begin to shy away, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before scurrying from his grasp, mumbling an excuse about finishing the dinner you were cooking.

he knows he has to do something the third time it happens, when he says something so ridiculous it makes you laugh so hard tears are coming from your eyes. he knows he has to do something when you abruptly break free from your laughing fit and see him watching you. you grimace to yourself like he won’t notice, looking away with something akin to embarrassment on your features.

satoru doesn’t understand what is happening. he’s been trying to piece it together for over a month now, but it just doesn't make sense. he doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong and the two of you haven’t had any fights or arguments lately, so he knows that isn’t it. but it’s killing him inside how you seem to want little to do with him physically. he knows it isn’t a matter of you no longer thinking he’s attractive or falling out of love with him; he can hear the sincerity in your voice, see it in your glassy eyes when he has to leave for a mission and you tell him that you’ll miss his “stupid, pretty face”, that he better come home to you as soon as possible. but when he does come home, you barely want him to touch you. the gears are turning in his mind, have been nonstop for a long while now, but he still just doesn’t get it.

satoru decides to bring it up later this evening, after the two of you have eaten dinner and you relax on the couch with a bottle of sake between the two of you. he notices how far away you sit from him, how you curl up into yourself instead of into him like you would before, and it hurts. but he is not one to give up, never has been, so he sucks his teeth, gathering your attention and gesturing you over.

“c’mere, pretty. wanna cuddle.” he watches you intently, watches as your brain clocks in overtime to find an excuse to give him so you can avoid his touch. the moment you open your mouth, he’s grabbing you by your ankle and dragging you so you lay flat on your back on the sofa, your calling out falling on deaf ears. he frowns at you, climbing on top of you and sitting on your hips. “satoru, c’mon! you’re heavy!” you whine, squirming from your position beneath him but he won’t let up.

“you know that i love you, right?”

the question puts an immediate halt to your movement, eyes widening in surprise at his sudden declaration, at the intense, serious look in his eyes. you nod slowly, lips parting to speak but you don’t get the chance to question him before he starts up again. “and you still love me?” the confusion is evident in your glimmering eyes, but you nod again. “of course i do, ‘toru… wha- what is this about?” he gives you a pointed look, as if he caught you with your hand in the cookie jar. “baby. you know what this is about. you don’t let me touch you or kiss you anymore and i just- did i do something? is it me? if it’s me, just tell me, ‘cause you’re breaking my heart here, angel.”

fuck. looks like the jig’s up. you thought you’d been able to satiate him enough for him not to notice, but in retrospect, you were foolish to think that was possible. satoru notices everything, even if he doesn’t speak on it right away. the guilt you feel is so strong your chest hurts. you turn your head away from him, trying your best to will away the tears you feel brewing, but you end up failing. “it’s not- it’s not you, ‘toru.” you feel his hands on your face, thumbs gently sweeping under your eyes and across your temples to wipe away the salty streaks. “then what is it? please, baby, talk to me. ‘cause i miss you every day even though you’re right next to me.” you swallow hard and open your eyes to meet the crystalline blue staring back at you, and the look of despair on satoru’s face makes the tears fall much faster.

“i just think you deserve someone who isn’t..ugly.” the words leave your lips and satoru is taken aback, face immediately twisted up, eyebrows knitted together. “sweetheart, please tell me you’re joking. oh god, did something happen to your eyes?!” he begins to wave his fingers around in front of your view, throwing up different numbers of his digits and it makes you laugh despite the tears still escaping. you slap at his hands lightly, shaking your head as you sniffle. “my eyes are fine, satoru, it’s yours that must be broken.” the sorrowful look from before returns to your face and satoru instantly misses the sweet, comforting sound of your laughter from a second ago. “you can’t tell me you don’t notice..all of this.” you gesture vaguely to your face and he blinks at you. “of course i notice your face. you’re like, the prettiest, most gorgeous girl in the whole world.” you roll your eyes, attempting to worm yourself out from beneath him again, still unsuccessful as he grabs your wrists in both hands. “no, stop, i mean it. look…okay, yes, i’ve noticed that you’re dealing with a breakout but if you think that that makes you ugly, especially to me, you are sorely mistaken. if you think that would make me love you any less..i clearly haven’t beat it into your brain enough. i’m sorry, pretty. i’m sorry you feel this way.”

you’re quite sure you’re full-on sobbing now, and satoru’s fingers cup your face once again, wiping away at the dampness. it was true, you’d been dealing with a bad breakout for a few months now, acne and scars littering each section of your face like stars litter the night sky. it was painful on top of the change in your appearance, and it made you severely self conscious. you hardly wanted to leave your shared home, hardly wanted to even let your own boyfriend see you. the skincare products were getting more and more expensive and working less and less as time went on. it was a lot to deal with, and the stress of dealing with it made it worse. vicious cycle.

you can feel him leaning down as your now free hands reach for his own, holding him as he holds you. soft lips touch your forehead, rounding kisses down to your cheeks, then your nose, then your jaw, and finally on your own lips. he kisses you softly, like something fragile, something delicate that he’s much too afraid to break. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to push you away or-or make you think i didn’t love you anymore. was just..scared, i guess.” your voice is quiet but you know he heard every bit, love in his eyes as he stares down at you, a sweet smile stretching his lips. “s’okay, pretty. there’s nothing to be scared of, not with me. i love you too, far more than i know how to tell you. what’d’ya say we do some face masks and kill this bottle of sake, hm? actually, i’m giving you no choice. c’mon, sweet cheeks, up, let’s go.”

about 45 minutes later (would’ve been less if somebody wasn’t too busy feeling you up and distracting you with kisses), you’re back on the couch with satoru, except this time you’re actually snuggled in close with him. he’d gotten you all comfy, clay face masks smeared on your faces, dressed in one of his big t-shirts and your panties, warm on the inside from the sake. his arm curls around your back with his large hand rested on your thigh, fingers flexing against the soft flesh and it’s making you feel warm somewhere else too. you have your own hand sliding up the back of his neck, combing through the short hairs there, nails scraping against his scalp. he sighs at the touch, leaning his head towards yours and giving you a lazy, tipsy smile. “hi, pretty,” he says, “that feels good.” you smile back, scratch a little harder at that, give the snow-colored strands a tug and he audibly moans. his shining blue eyes narrow at you and his hand leaves your thigh as both of them find your hips, pushing you onto your back beneath him for the second time today. he wastes no time allowing his lips to find yours and your hands slide further into his hair, gasps and giggles leaving you and being swallowed up by satoru. the way he kisses you now is far different from earlier. this time you can almost taste the desperation in his saliva, in the way his tongue bullies it’s way into your mouth to slide against your own. it’s slow but still messy, still needy and it makes your head spin and your heart thump. his lips eventually leave yours in favor of the column of your throat, shiny wet lips pressing against the skin, sucking and licking and marking you. a big hand sneaks its way down between you, lifting up your shirt to find the front of your panties, already damp. you choke out his name when those fingers dip inside, spreading your folds to tease around your slick hole.

“so wet already, fuck.. ‘m gonna get a taste of you, angel, s’that okay?” you moan at satoru’s words, nodding your head in an immediate response. there’s one last harsh bite to your throat, tapping his fingers on your puffy clit as he pulls his hand out of your underwear. he climbs off of the sofa and drops to his knees, grabbing your hips and rag-dolling you into position right in front of him. you do your best to help by shoving your panties down to your thighs, and he finishes the job by sliding them the rest of the way off, tossing them beside him. satoru spreads your soft thighs, pushing your knees up and you would hate the way he stares at your cunt if it didn’t make you throb so much. he decides no time is better than the present so he gets to work, bringing his hands further down your inner thighs and using his thumbs to spread your lips apart. he licks a long line up from your sticky opening and right to your clit, a contagious moan vibrating you as it leaves him. he savors your taste like it’s the most gourmet meal he could ever eat, licking and slurping all up and down your pussy, nose bumping against your clit in the most thigh-shakingly delicious way when he’d focus the wet muscle on your hole. “oh my god, ‘toru,” you whimper, cunt clenching around nothing when you meet his heated stare from his position between your legs. he removes his mouth from you briefly, bringing his fingers to your sopping pussy to slip the middle one inside. “yeah? feels good? tell me, pretty girl. tell me how good it is.” your eyes fall shut and you gasp as he curls his experienced finger, finding the spongy spot inside of you that he knows drives you crazy in an instant. satoru’s lips find your clit again and the combination of his mouth and, now two fingers, has your head falling back against the sofa, crying out his name like it’s the only word your mouth knows how to form. “‘t-toru, ‘toru please! feels so f-ucking good, ‘m gonna cum, please- please, don’t stop..” your hiccuping babbles spur him on further, fingers incessant against your sweet spot and tongue relentless against your clit. “that’s it, make a mess for me. cum on my tongue, pretty,” satoru groans against your slit and your thighs clamp around his head, lips parted in a silent scream as your cunt weeps. your orgasm is world-shattering, eyes rolling back into your head with a tight grip on satoru’s hair and he finger fucks you through it, relishing in the way your pussy grips his fingers so tight. after a moment, he slows to a stop, easing his fingers out of your core and you watch with ragged breathing as he sticks them right in his mouth, a moan escaping him as he swirls his tongue around his cum-covered digits.

“sweeter than candy, every fuckin’ time.” he licks his lips, pupils blown wide, black swallowing up the blue that normally surrounds them. you can’t even help yourself as you lean forward and stitch your mouths together, tasting yourself on his tongue and you moan wantonly when he bites down on your bottom lip. if you thought he was needy before, you should’ve seen yourself now, hands gripping at the waistband of his sweats, yanking and pulling as quickly as you can. “please, i need you, need you inside me, please,” you whine into his mouth, urgency weighing heavy on your tongue, at your fingertips and he obliges you same as he always would. he shoves his pants down, off of his toned legs and presses you back into the couch, practically ripping his shirt off before climbing between the plush of your thighs. his cock is aching between you, flushed pink and tip sticky with precum that stains your skin as it bobs against the crease of your thigh and hip. his lips leave yours again and he sits up on his haunches, gazing at you with low-lidded eyes full of lust, full of the desire to make you cum until you can’t anymore. large hands find your waist, fingertips digging into your lower back and you’re pulled flush against him, warm skin on warmer, wetter skin and your lip is between your teeth when your eyes travel up from where you meet to his own.

“prettiest girl in the whole damn world.” he says and the bashfulness of your smile has him growing impossibly harder. his hand leaves your thigh to hold the base of his cock, guiding the tip up and down your sticky slit to collect as much of the slick that resides there as he possibly can. the wide mushroom head of his dick soon finds its place at your hole, spreading your folds around him as he sinks in to you and the moan that leaves his lips is downright sinful. satoru could rival even the most renowned pornstars in this moment, all long, lean torso and plush, pink lips as he eases inside of your cunt. he takes his time carving his way into you, drawing curses from deep in your chest as he makes you feel every. single. inch that he has to offer, and it’s much more than a few. one of his hands reaches up to cup your jaw, thumb tracing across your bottom lip before he pulls it down, opening your mouth for that same thumb to land on the pad of your warm tongue. your lips close around it and he sighs, so satisfied, so immersed in everything you. “can’t believe i have a girl as beautiful as you. make me so fucking hard just lookin’ at you.” he punctuates his sentence with a deep groan, pelvis finally hitting yours as he bottoms out inside of you. he’s deep, so goddamn deep you swear you can feel him in your chest. it feels like it’s been forever since you’d been this intimate together. you’d still had sex with satoru while going through your bout of insecurity, but you were careful to make sure things only happened in the dark or with him behind you. being face to face now, with him staring at you like you created the earth, the moon, and the stars, it almost felt like too much to bear. there’s something wet and warm threatening to spill from your lash line, and you try your best to blink it away but satoru is too damn perceptive.

“it’s okay, angel, let it out. ‘m right here, baby, ‘m gonna take care of you. ‘m always gonna take care of you, make you feel good like you deserve..tell you how fucking gorgeous you are until the day that i die.” his fingers dig into your thigh as he begins to roll his hips, slow, so slow it could almost be classified as torture if it didn’t feel so fucking good. you’re moaning around his thumb and he’s still talking, still praising you, still proclaiming your beauty into the air of your living room. his heavy cock hits that spongy spot inside of you just right and you cry out his name which only eggs him on to keep that angle, to keep rutting into you so he can hear it again and again. his thrusts grow harder the more you whine and moan and call for him. he thinks you’re addictive, the way your lips form around his name, the gasps, the way your eyes cross when his pelvis grinds against your clit when he leans down to kiss your exposed throat.

“t-toru, i love you, love you so much, missed you so much, ‘m sorry, m’ so sorry,” you choke out, hands gripping at his bulging biceps. his face is pressed against your own, lips at your ear and the way your name falls from his lips has more tears threatening to spill.

“don’t be sorry, baby, ‘s okay. i love you too, love you so much it hurts. fuck, i missed you, missed your sweet face, missed this tight little pussy.” his hips are moving faster now, cock pounding deep into you and the squelching sounds of your wet cunt are absurdly lewd in your ears. he kisses the shell of your ear before sitting up again, hands slipping under your thighs to push your knees up to your chest and oh, god, that’s your cervix he’s hitting now. one hand leaves your legs in favor of your cunt, thumb moving in quick circles against your puffy clit. you’re calling out to god, the heavens, anyone who will listen as he makes you cum for the second, but nowhere near last, time of the night, clenching around him and sucking his thick cock deeper into your channel. he fucks you right on through it, groans rumbling from his throat as you squeeze him, leaving translucent white rings around the base of his dick and he needs it again and again. when he feels you coming down from your peak he slowly pulls out of you, carefully lifting you to turn you over onto your front. you don’t even get a moment to react to your new positioning, hips and ass raised and bare to satoru’s view, before he’s sliding back into you again. the slap of his pelvis against your bare ass is so loud you start to worry that your neighbors might hear, but you don’t have too long to think about it, brain turning to mush as satoru leans over your back, leaving kisses to decorate your neck and shoulders.

“my sweet girl, my pretty little angel, you feel so good.” his voice is low in your ear and it has you clenching around his twitching cock even tighter, meeting his thrusts with your own. he pulls away from you only briefly to fit a hand around your neck, pulling you up and back against his chest. your head falls back against his shoulder and your moans have yet to cease, only growing louder as the free hand of the white-haired man snakes down your body and to your clit.

“who’s my pretty girl? hm?” the words whispered in your ear have you whining, face flushing deeper than it already was. you try, you try yet again to avoid him but it’s truly impossible this time with the way he invades your senses. he knows what you’re doing when you moan his name instead of answering, and he doesn’t let up.

“c’mon, sweet thing, say it for me. say it and i’ll let you cum. who. is. my. pretty. girl?” he punctuates his last sentence with harsh strokes of his hips and you realize the wetness you suddenly feel on your cheeks is from your own eyes. you have no choice but to give in as you know he won’t, he’s far too committed to do that. it takes you a moment to muster it up, and you almost choke on the words when you do.

“f-fuck, i am, toru.. i’m your pretty girl.” it leaves you as little more than a whisper. his mouth is hot against your ear and he bites down on the shell of it before he speaks again.

“louder, baby, i can’t hear you.” his fingers toying at your clit lessen their pace, hand around your throat tightening just a bit, not enough to hurt or deprive you, but just enough for you to remember it’s imposing nature. satoru knows what he’s doing to you, and he knows that you know, too. the words are hard to shape your lips around, he knows that, but he makes you do it anyway and a part of you falls harder in love with him for it. the other, much smaller and far more insecure part wants to wrap your own hands around his throat.

“i’m…i’m your pretty girl! i’m toru’s pretty girl, only yours, always yours, baby.” you can tell he’s satisfied with the rumbling moan he lets out against your cheek and his fingers are back to the speed you need them at. the way satoru plays your body like an instrument is noteworthy, should be studied by scholars how someone can fuck so good, can please their partner in ways you could only dream of before him. the whimpers that leave you signify how close you are again, and the ever determined satoru takes full advantage of it, murmuring a combination of absolute filth and romantically sweet praises into your ear. it’s only a short while before you’re spasming around the length of his cock again, no care for who can hear you as you practically shout his name. you can feel how much closer your orgasm brings satoru to his own, his thrusts are sloppier and he’s much more vocal (if that’s even possible) in your ear. you turn your head as far as you can to connect your lips with his and your fingers reach back to knot into his hair.

“cum inside me, toru, i need it, give it to me,” you sigh into his mouth and he shudders, hips jerking and hand around your throat tightening once more. his lips lose yours and a stuttering moan leaves him, your name on his tongue as he finally reaches his peak. he cums hard and he cums a lot, a sticky white meld of you and him leaks out of you, around his cock and down your thighs. you’ll definitely have to get this couch cleaned but you don’t care about that right now because satoru is pressing the softest of kisses to your face, hips rolling to a stop behind you. he’s careful, slow to pull his softening cock out of you yet you still moan at the loss. he lets his chin rest on your shoulder and he sighs, his hand leaving it’s place at your neck and letting both palms meet your hips.

“we should’ve washed these face masks off, like, an hour ago.” you roll your eyes at the thought that exits his mouth and the way you laugh makes a contented smile appear on his face. he’s got his girl back, his smiling, laughing, pretty girl and all feels right in his world again.

>authors_note: i have been writing this for like 3 months 🧍‍♀️ but whatever i mean who doesn’t love super romantic porn even if it took centuries to arrive??! don’t know how this got to be 4k+ tho cause last time i checked the word count it was like 2600… anyways hope u gojo fuckers enjoy!

© loko4koko 2023

[theitgirlnetwork]

Better

Chapter 9: She Slides Down That Pole And...

Note: Hi again! How nice you all are about this story is actually insane, I'm so very grateful! You're all very sweet and I hope you continue to enjoy. We are about to enter our first major conflict people, stay fucking calm <3 Once again, if you would like to be added to the taglist let me know, and pls keep interacting, it inspires me! MDNI fr fr. I'm serious. 18+ don't make this weird. I hope to get another chapter out either tomorrow or later this week. Thanks so much again <3

Warnings: Explicit content, sexual content, mentions of sex work

Taglist: @th3h0nkz @yezzyyae@comeonatmebruh

Charlotte stares at Lip, turning her body to face him. “Not funny, Phillip.”

“It’s-” he starts, cutting himself off when he sees her face. Soft features set sternly. The only vulnerability he can see is swimming her eyes as she waits for him to either say he was joking or stand on what he’s said. “I’m not laughin, bunny.”

Charlotte’s eyes scan Lip entirely. She studies his face, his body language, attempting to measure his sincerity. He means it she finally acknowledges. This is crazy. She knows it. She doesn’t have to be a fucking genius to know that she and Lip have moved at rapid speed. But somehow, she feels like she can tell. He’s saying he loves her and he means it. 

“I love you too.” 

The second the endearment leaves her lips Lip surges forward, cupping her face as he presses their lips together and pushes her softly to lay back on the bed. Charlotte gasps at her suddenly being pushed backward. She giggles as their lips smack against each other, lifting her hands to cup the back of his head, pulling him down to her even further.

“You mean that?” he asks, as he drags over her ear, kissing there once, twice, before moving down to her jaw, no doubt creating blooming bruises as he drags down to her neck.

Charlotte looks down her body where he’s trailing kisses, big, intense, blue eyes staring up at her, waiting for confirmation. The uncertainty is evident, despite the confident movements of his strong hands dragging her shirt up her torso, leaning down and tugging at her belly button piercing lightly with his teeth. “I love you, Phillip.” she breathes.

He lets out a shaky breath that makes goosebumps form across her skin. Lips starts toying with the button on Charlotte’s jeans, giving her the opportunity to stop him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

Tugging the pants down her legs, Lip tries to calm down by taking inventory of the situation. She loves him. Charlotte just told him she loved him-that’s not helping, he things, glancing down at his own pants after dropping hers to the floor. He looks back up only to find her sitting up slightly, pulling her shirt over head, her breasts spilling over the cups of her white bra, her body only clad in the small bra and red Christmas panties that say ‘Santa Baby’ in white letters with a little white bow. Neither is that, but fuck it.

Lip leans down and nudges his nose at the bow, murmuring against the fabric, “Expecting someone else?”

Charlotte smoothes her hand through Lip’s hair, her other arm propping her up so she can look at him. “Yeah, I guess I have a thing for white men with rosy cheeks- ah!” she yelps as Lip places her legs over his shoulders and tugs her down so his face is between them, making her lose her balance. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” he asks smugly as he tugs her underwear to the side.

“Peachy.”

“Yeah, I bet.” 

Charlotte doesn’t know what she expected. Women don’t just start acting crazy for no reason. There’s no way Mandy had been ready to drop her off at a damn brothel behind him if he wasn’t doing something life changing in bed. She’d both absently and presently pondered what it would feel like for Lip to eat her out. If it was anything like how he kissed then yeah, she could assume she was gonna be in trouble. But seriously, what the fuck was wrong with him? Is he trying to kill her? 

He’d started off nice, pressing a couple soft kisses on her lower lips the way he does the ones on her face. But then he locked his hands on her waist, holding her in place as he flattened his tongue against her. Refusing to let her move. Moaning into her as he sucked and licked. Cerulean blue eyes locked on her face. 

At the sound of the floorboards creaking under someone’s weight in the hallway Charlotte grabs one of the pillows to cover her face and tries to bury her whimpers. Only for him to tug her down again, jolting her and causing her to look at him to hear his stern, “Put that shit down.” He’d left no room for argument, so she bites her lip and moves the pillow, gripping the blanket beneath her with one hand and letting him reach up and guide her other one to his hair.

He was giving her such whiplash too. With how he was talking. Most of his words slurred against her, but occasionally pulling away, showing her his glistening lips and making her cheeks hot with his demands and commentary.

“Stay fucking still.”

“You taste so fucking good, baby.”

“Want you to cum on my face.”

“Wanna live between these fuckin’ legs.”

When Charlotte couldn’t take the pressure anymore and felt herself reaching that final peak she tugs on Lip’s hair, earning a groan from him as he tightens his hold on her, controlling her squirming. She takes her free arm and muffles her cries with it, trying to steady herself and stop her body from shaking. 

“Fuck.” Lip groans again, moving up to kiss her lips and then staring down at her to take in his handiwork. “You okay, bunny?”

“I’m…yes. I’m okay.” she breathes, trying to catch her breath. Lip laughs as he watches the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “Shut up. M’fine.” Charlotte sits up shakily, shoving at Lip’s chest when he snorts out another laugh. 

“Okay.” he relents, resting his weight on top of her, and continuing to kiss her lips. His eyes lock on hers and he sweeps his thumb over her cheek. “I love you.” he whispers against her lips, parting them and guiding her tongue to drag along his as they kiss. 

Charlotte starts pulling Lip’s shirt over his head, struggling for a little before he breaks away to pull it off, tossing it onto the floor and unbuttoning his pants and kicking them off.  “Do you um, still wanna wait? That’s totally fine.”

He should have said yes. Lip knows that. He knows that he doesn’t deserve this moment. 

But the way Charlotte was looking up at him made him feel like he does. All he could think about is her gorgeous face, her beautiful body, the way she smells, the way she tastes. The way she makes him feel. He can’t not do it.

“I wanna be close to you.” he murmurs, pressing his forehead against hers. “Wanna be inside of you.” He waits then. Because despite how badly he wants this, the one thing that would be able to stop him is an ounce of doubt, a no from her. But he gets a shy nod and soft fingers on the back of his neck. And her yes means everything. “I’ll go get a condom.”

He furrows his brows in confusion when his girlfriend shakes her head, pulling him further down onto her, wrapping her legs around him. “Don’t need one. Pill. Take it like clockwork. Okay?”

Normally, Lip would say fuck no. He’d only ever fucked raw 4 times in his life. Twice with Karen, which was dumb as hell, considering the fact that someone else usually had already done the same earlier that day. Twice with Helene because…well, she had her tubes tied and the only other person fucking her was her husband. He thought. Maybe. 

But he trusts Charlotte. And there’s no way in hell he’d give up the opportunity to get inside of her without anything between them. So that’s exactly what he does.

“Oh fuck.” he moans, dropping his head to her neck as she gasps when he pushes inside of her. Lip pauses for a moment, telling himself for the sake of his own ego that it's to let Charlotte have a second to adjust. Lip gives a few shallow thrusts before setting a slow, deep rhythm. After getting over the initial feeling of tightness and warmth he lifts his face to look at her face, groaning again. “Shit, Charlotte, that shit is not fair.”

“Wh-” she gasps, clinging to him even more. "What?”

“Fucking…the next time we’re fuck, we do this m’gettin you a mirror, looking at you while you feel like this is ridiculous.” he says, coming up to rest his forehead back on hers, using his arm to hook her leg, pushing it back up towards her, the other hand massaging her breast as he relishes in the cry she lets out.

“Well, you’re trying to split me in half while looking like a greek statue so-mm, I think we’re even.” she whimpers, a small smile forming on her face as she sees the one on his.

“Yeah? Say that again.”

She reaches up cupping his face and kissing him. “Never.”

His laughter devolves back into groaning as he continues pushing into her, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in. They stay as close as possible, sharing air, lips brushing, her back arching off of the bed to push her torso against his. They build their way to a slow, intimate finish, Lip feeling a wave of accomplishment wash over him when Charlotte’s gasps pitch to near screams, her scrambling to cover her mouth with her hand. Wickedly, he decides to make it worse for her, leaning close to her ear to whisper, “Cum for me baby.”

Seconds later she does, squeezing his muscled arm and covering her mouth, Charlotte cries out her orgasm, tightening so much that she triggers Lip’s. He gives her a couple more thrusts before releasing inside of her, pressing kisses all over her face and then rolling off her and pulling out so as not to crush her. 

The two of them lay there in silence for a few minutes, Lip rubbing his hand along the soft skin on her arm as they face each other. Charlotte catches her breath as she stares at her boyfriend's face, getting a good look at the cute little blush that had formed during their activities, watching his pretty eyes flutter open and closed with sleep. “Haha, I can’t wait to talk to Mickey tomorrow.”

Lip makes a face, sitting up and pushing off of the bed. “We just said I love you and had sex for the first time, and you’re talkin’ about my brother’s boyfriend?” He tugs on a pair of boxers and pulls out another pair that he knows Fiona washed, along with a t-shirt and passing it to her. “Hold on.”

Charlotte giggles, sitting up and pulling on the shirt while Lip disappears into the dark hallway. She silences the panicked thought that passes through her mind as he walks up the hall, and secretly releases a breath when he re-enters the room, washcloth in hand and pokes her forehead, pushing her to fall on her back again. Lip grabs one of her legs, pulling them apart and wiping her off. “I gotta tell Mickey I wore you out. It’s an inside joke, he’ll get it.”

Cocking his head to the side the blond scoffs, putting the washcloth down and tugging the boxers up Charlotte’s legs. “You wore me out? You were on your back the whole time, brat.”

Charlotte shrugs, scooting up the bed and climbing under the blanket, holding it open for him to climb in with her. “That’s how you like me, isn’t it?”

They both stare at each other again before cackling together as Lip pulls her back against him, nudging her temple lightly with his knuckle. “Go to bed.” 

“Phillip” a feminine gasps in the cold room, interrupting the otherwise quiet morning.

Lip groans, pulling Charlotte down to him, tucking his face into her hair as she whines, rubbing her hair as they both catch their breath. He drags his fingers along her bare spine for a few moments before pulling her shirt down over her skin to avoid her getting a chill. 

Climbing off of him, Charlotte kisses his cheek and then grabs the discarded boxers he’d given her the night before from the floor, pulling them on. “I’ve gotta pee.”

The blond nods, smiling at her and watching her slip out of his room, the light peeking in from the blinds shining on her in a way that makes his heart speed. “Meet me downstairs, bunny.”

“‘Kay.”

Lip was having a pretty fuckin’ good morning. Hell, he’d had a pretty good night. Normally, he woke up the day after Christmas feeling broke and hungover. Instead, he was sober, and woke up to his sexy girlfriend who’d flown back in to be with him, climbing on top of him to make it even after he’d made a ‘pillow princess’ joke. 

He gets out of bed, grabbing his phone and shoving it into his pajama pants pocket before jogging down the stairs, finding his siblings having their usual morning. “Mornin’.”

Carl immediately gets up from the table, knocking his shoulder into his older brother’s arm as he pushes past, grabbing his hat and storming out of the door. 

“He’s mad at you.” Debbie shrugs, spooning cereal into her mouth.

Fiona passes Lip a bowl and grabs her coffee going to sit in her seat. “Move your headboard away from the wall, genius.” 

“Oops.” Lips says, mouth full of off brand cheerios. He sits in his seat and takes a couple more scoops before putting his spoon down. “I’ll check on him later, I gotta tour this company I’m doing this internship with today, and I gotta take Charlotte to work.”

“Ah, he’ll get over it.” Ian says, wiping Liam’s face. “Mickey, you almost ready? I wanna get to the track before other people get there.”

“Yeah, keep your pants on, we’ll get to it.” As he says it Charlotte comes down the stairs, hair now combed up into a high ponytail, her hand holding up the shirt Lip loaned her in an attempt to cover the hickeys decorating her neck. “There she is, proud of you, champ!” 

Mickey puts his hand up, offering her a high five. Charlotte snorts, smacking his hand and jokingly making a muscle with her arm and then flipping her hair, taking a bow. Lip wraps his arm around her, tapping her ass lightly before pulling her into his lap. He shoves his cereal bowl over to her, mumbling the demand, ‘eat’, before looking between Ian, Debbie, and Fiona. “What?”

“Are you sharing? Whipped!” 

“You fuckin’ are, you’re pussy whipped.”

“Make him do the dishes next, Charlotte.”

“Ha ha, fuck you guys.” Lip says, flipping his siblings off. “And fuck you too.” he says to Mickey.

“I’m not sure you’ve got anything left for me, Gallagher, from the sound of it, the princess here took it out of you.”

Charlotte leans forward toward the table, eating some of the cereal before scooping more onto the spoon and turning to feed it to Lip. “Okay, okay, stop bullying my boyfriend…he took it like a good boy.”

“Oh shit” Fiona laughs, tossing her head back. 

Lip pinches the girl’s side, “Et tu brute?”

She offers him an innocent look. “What does that mean?”

“Fucksake.” he groans.

Suddenly, Lip’s phone starts vibrating in his pocket. Absently, he pulls it out, not thinking that the primary people who call him are sitting around the table with him, which means there is only one other person that it could be. Why didn’t he change her damn name in his phone?

“Who’s Helene?” Charlotte asks, taking another scoop of cereal and looking back at Lip. 

His siblings move fast. Debbie immediately grabs Liam, perching him on her hip and running up the stairs to get him ready. Fiona grabs her coffee mug, chugging the rest and dumping it in the sink, declaring she was going to get some sleep. And suddenly, Mickey was completely ready to go running with Ian, mumbling a ‘fuckin’ idiot’ under his breath as the redhead leads him out of the door. 

“She’s uh,” Lip clears his throat, “she was my professor. Before.”

“Mmkay, why is she texting you at 8:30 in the morning when you don’t go there anymore?”

“She’s the one that helped me get my job. She’s probably just letting me know where to go.” He shrugs. He feels his heart race as Charlotte studies him, holding the spoon in her mouth as she observes him. “What do you need to see it, or…?”

“No.” she says, popping the spoon out, and scooping the last bit of cereal before feeding it to him. “If you say she was your professor and she’s helping you find a job, that’s what she is, and that’s what she’s doing.” Charlotte offers him a smile before giving him a kiss on the lips. “I love you. So, I trust you.”

Wow. Lip thinks. I’m a piece of shit. All he offers her is a nod, leaning into her hand when she holds his cheek before announcing she needs to get changed before he can take her to work. 

As she skips out of his house to go put on her uniform, Lip can’t help but feel like cold water had just been thrown over him. After last night and this morning, he’d damn near forgotten who had helped him get this job. Despite the fact that they wouldn’t be working together, Helene had been reaching out to him frequently, mostly talking about what the work would entail. Mostly. And it was easy to convince himself it wasn’t wrong to leave out the details of how they knew each other when Charlotte was miles away in Virginia, but now with her in his arms, it made him feel like he was doing something horrible.

“Welcome back, girl, we’ve missed you!”

Charlotte beams at her co-worker, Trish as she prepares a customer’s check. Trish was definitely the coworker she was the closest with. They were close in age, Trish being only two years older, and she was nice. And she hadn’t slept with Lip. While Charlotte was gone, Trish had taken a lot of her shifts. She’d also invited her to go out a couple times, but the younger woman was still a little traumatized from her last ‘girls night’. But she planned to do it eventually. “Missed you guys too. And I missed making money.”

“I’m sure you missed your little friend Gallagher too, huh?” Trish jokes, wiping down the table next to Charlotte.

“Yeah,” she sings, “I missed my boyfriend.”

Trish pauses at that, gasping before turning to face the girl entirely, ignoring the drunk man in her section requesting more beer. “Boyfriend? Lottie, that’s great! No wonder he was so quiet over the past few weeks. He’s been in the house trying to keep his dick in his pants for you. Believe me, that bitch Kayla who does the Thursday morning shift gave it her best. That’s so sweet, girl.”

“Hm, well, if she could take him then he was never mine.” she says maturely. “Which is why he was staying home, waiting for me.” she giggles.

“Bitch! I know that’s right.” Trish laughs, grabbing an order and passing it to Charlotte to take to the table. “Lip Gallagher’s girlfriend. You must have some magical pussy.”

Charlotte drops the order off and puts her finger under her customer’s nose, checking to ensure he’s still breathing as his head is down on the wooden high top table. Satisfied that he’s good she goes behind the counter and starts dialing his brother’s number. “It’s not about sex, T.”

“But it’s good right?” the woman asks. When Charlotte rolls her eyes Trish sighs, “Fine fine, it’s about love, partnership, blah blah.”

“Hi, Gary? Jeff is here again, you think you could pick him up? Yeah…he’s still breathing. Just,” the girl peeks at the customer again. “Sleepy.” After hanging up she goes to sit on one of the stools, smiling dreamily at her friend. “He’s got a new job, working in science and tech and stuff. Cause’ you know he’s so smart. We’re saving up money for the future.”

Trish climbs onto the seat next to Charlotte, offering her a kind smile. “That’s great, Lottie. I’m happy for you.”

Charlotte raises an eyebrow. “But?”

“But, have you considered my offer? Pays way better than this place. And your good friend Trish will get a pay raise for scouting you. You’d be offering two sources of income on top of the billions of miscellaneous jobs your man does.”

“Trish, I told you,” Charlotte groans, waving as a customer enters. “I’m not a stripper. I used to dance, cheer, and took a couple pole dancing classes. I wouldn’t be good at it.”

“You haven’t tried.” Trish pouts, “besides you wouldn’t even have to go full nude, or even topless! Though, it’d be good for tips…”

“Trish-”

“It’s a pretty nice place for Southside. They have zero tolerance for prostitution, just come audition for them. I’ll be there, you don’t like it, I won’t ask again. Please? The money is so, so, so good.”

Charlotte looks at her friend, taking in her pleading look and considering the amount of times she’s seen Trish before she’s stopped at the bank, carrying thousands of dollars on her. “Let me talk to Phillip about it, and I’ll let you know.”

“I’ll take it. You ask daddy-”

“I’m not asking, I’m getting his opinion!”

“Sure,” Trish shrugs, backing away, going over to the customers, “And when he says no, we’ll go anyway.”

“He’s not just gonna tell me no." she huffs following her friend. "And I don't need to ask him for permission!"

Lip checks his phone while Eric, the douchebag whose dad owns this tech company shows him the coffee room. He was exactly what Lip had expected, a douchebag in a button down who was running a company he knows nothing about. But hey, he needs the money.

Bunny: I’ve got good news, could be fun! I’ll tell you about it later. I love you <3

He smiles to himself, not noticing the preppy, frat boy leading his tour was looking at him. “Something good?” 

“Oh, uh, yeah, man, my bad. It’s my girlfriend.” Lip says, going to pocket his phone after texting her back.

“Girlfriend, huh? Got a picture?”

Lip’s brows furrow as he looks at the guy in front of him, not moving to pull up a picture, and waiting for him to explain why the fuck he needed to see his girl.

“Oh, no man, it’s just something we do around here, you know the girls come around sometime, bring snacks and lunch and stuff. I just like to know for security purposes in case I see them around the floor. I should probably show you mine, you know, in case.” Eric says, digging in the pocket of his khakis and producing the latest phone. He scrolls for a few seconds before holding it up for Lip to see. 

“Uh, nice.” Lip says nodding as he views the girl on the screen. She’s pretty. Long dark hair with highlights, tall, long-legs. She’s not Charlotte though. Lip easily pulls up the last picture of Charlotte he had open and puts it in front of Eric’s face. “Yeah, so she probably will come around for lunch sometimes-”

“Jesus. This is your girl? Lucky bastard!” Eric goes to hold Lip’s phone to get a better look, laughing lightly when he pulls it away, pocketing it. “Congrats on that, Gallagher. She’s fucking gorgeous.”

Lip fixes him with an unamused look, feeling himself getting angry. “I know.” He talks himself down inwardly, reminding himself that he needs this job. 

“Tell her to come around anytime.” Eric says, patting Lip’s shoulder before slipping past him. “Let’s get back to the tour.”

The only thing that gets him through the rest of the day is the likelihood that Charlotte will let him fuck her in his office where he knows that asshole will be able to hear him.

V slips into Alan’s bar and restaurant, shoving past a group of smelly, old drunks stumbling out. She finds Charlotte at the bar and settles into a stool, unzipping her jacket. She frowns at a patron who stops to stare at…well, literally everything other than her face. “What the fuck are you lookin’ at?”

Charlotte slides her cousin a hot chocolate and a piece of chocolate cake. “He can’t help it, V, he’s got a wandering eye.” 

“You mean lazy eye?”

The younger woman furrows her brow in confusion when the man hurriedly places his money on the counter and scurries off to another part of the restaurant. “No, he has a-”

“Lottie, baby, that man is a creep. Don’t serve him anymore.” V sighs, taking a sip of the hot drink. “This is good, girl, why don’t you make these at home? And what’d you call me out here for, you know Kev doesn’t like me coming to Al’s, somethin’ about crossin’ enemy lines or whatever.”

Charlotte grabs two forks, passing V the other one and the two cousins begin sharing the cake. “I wanted to ask you how Kev felt about you dabbling in sex work. Like, how did he react when you brought it up?”

V pauses with the fork halfway to her mouth, letting it clatter to the plate as she looks at her younger cousin, folding her arms over her chest. “What the hell are you talking about? Is Alan trying to get you involved in something? That sick motherfucker-”

“No!” Charlotte interrupts, looking around to make sure no one else hears their conversation. “You know how T has been trying to get me to audition for that club over on Wilmington, the new one? I’ve been thinking about it. I mean, I don’t make much here and Phillip and I are trying to save up for…future stuff.” She finishes sheepishly.

“Right.” V says, rolling her eyes.

“But, I dunno, m’nervous he’s not gonna be cool with it.”

V sighs, spooning in a bite before looking at Charlotte again. To be fair, she’d actively been against this snowballing relationship since she’d seen the two of them eye-fucking eachother in her driveway when Charlotte arrived. As an older cousin she truly thought Charlotte was too young for something as serious as this situation with Lip was getting. And as a fellow woman well…she knows Lip. But as weeks and now months had progressed, she was forced to come to terms with the fact that they were going to be a thing for a while. V would rather Lip walk through their front door and announce that he’s in their home than him climbing his way into Charlotte’s window, or worse, sneaking her out of it. So for now, she’s going to play nice, telling them what to do wouldn’t work anyway. “Well, it’s not like you’d be doing full nude. He should be fine as long as you’re not turning tricks, that was Kev’s line with me. Wasn’t gonna do it anyway, but it was best to let him feel like he was laying down the law.” 

Charlotte twirls the end of some of her hair pensively. “You think that’ll work with Phillip?”

“It should.” V shrugs. “The boy’s a hustler, if you’re bringing in money and promising not to fuck anyone else, he’ll think it’s a good deal. It’s more than any other girlfriend of his has been able to offer.”

“Okay, thanks V.” Charlotte breathes, tapping her hands on the bar. “Yeah, it’ll be fine, I’m just gonna be straightforward and honest, and he’ll be fine. It’ll be great.”

“Fuck!” Lip groans, tugging at the base of Charlotte’s ponytail one last time before dropping his hand to her jaw, using his thumb to sweep over the drool on her bottom lip as she pulls off of him. “C’mere.” he says softly, pulling her up from the floor to sit next to him. Lip tucks himself back into his pants before kissing her lips tenderly, ignoring the taste of himself. “Jesus, you gonna greet me like that everytime I come home from work?”

Charlotte takes her hair down, giggling as she smoothes her hands through it, undoing his handiwork. Sure, she might've set the woman's movement back a couple decades by prepping her boyfriend for news he might not wanna hear with a blowjob, but it's not like she wouldn't do it anyway. She just happened to have done it at a time where she needed him in a good mood. “Depends,” she shrugs, swinging her legs over his lap and laying back on the bed to look up at the ceiling. “I…hypothetically might not be home every time you come home.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Lip says absently, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it. “‘Was kiddin’, Bunny, I don’t like…expect head. I like head. Love it even. Because,” he pulls her further into his lap, gathering her to his chest and pressing slow kisses on her cheek and along her jaw. “It feels sooo good when you do it, but I only want it when you want to do it. Just like, all the time.” he jokes, nudging her jaw with his nose.

Charlotte laughs, wrapping her arm around his neck and cupping his cheek with her free hand. “Yeah? Only every day?”

“Just 25/8, nothing major.” Lip smirks, pretty eyes watching the mirth on his girlfriend’s face, relishing in being the one to make her laugh.

“Well,” Charlotte takes a deep breath, averting her eyes so they won’t meet his, and immediately the joy on Lip’s own face dims, brows furrowing as he searches her expression. “That’ll be difficult.”

He grabs her jaw gently but firmly, forcing her to make eye contact. “Why’re you bein’ weird?” His concern grows even more as he watches her squirm under his gaze, the muscle in his jaw ticking in irritation. “You leavin’ again?”

The woman’s eyes widened at the sound of his voice, the barely contained frustration coupled with the insecurity staining the three words her boyfriend just uttered. His body tense as if he was preparing for a blow. “No, bubba, m’not goin’ anywhere.”

Some of the strain leaves his body, but Lip keeps pushing. “So, what’s the fuckin’ problem, baby? You’re being weird, not finishin’ what you’re tryin’ to say. Is someone fuckin’ with you at work?”

“No!”

“Did I piss you off for real just now?”

“No!” Charlotte huffs, dragging a hand down her face.

Lip sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. “Then what the fuck-no, don’t make that face, m’sorry. I mean, what is the problem then, Charlotte?”

Charlotte winces at the use of her full name in this context, steadying herself for a second before blurting out, “I’m gonna go audition to dance at the club on Wilmington my friend T works at because it pays well and you got a better paying job and I want to too and I wouldn’t do full nude so it’ll just be like, me wearing bikinis and stuff and you shouldn’t be mad.” 

Lip pauses, taking in everything the frantic girl is slurring together and trying to understand what she’s saying. 

Meanwhile, Charlotte absolutely wilts more and more the longer her boyfriend is silent. He doesn’t necessarily look angry, but he didn’t look happy either. She couldn’t stand the silence for much longer. “And I wouldn’t be turning tricks, or anything like that. Obviously.” she adds softly.

The blond suddenly bursts into laughter, all but cackling as he drops his head to her shoulder, his whole body damn near shaking with his chuckles. “Um, fuckin’ yeah obviously you won’t be fucking anyone else, I’d fuckin’ burn the place down.” 

Charlotte ignores the part of herself that is attracted to that absolutely crazy statement. She relaxes against him. “Thank God, so you’re okay with it?”

“Uh, yeah. I mean, it’s not my favorite but there’ll be bouncers, and I’ll pick you up and drop you off, and those fuckers can look, but” he tilts her against his chest, using his free hand to smack her ass, smiling smugly at her squeak. “I get to touch. And I can watch, give you feedback as you practice. Get some discounts on a private dance.”

“Oh honey, this ass is expensive, m’savin’ up to do stuff with my boyfriend.” she hums, pursing her lips.

“Lucky fuckin’ guy.” he jokes. “I can see it now, takin’ you to a nice dinner, gettin’ a violinist and a singer to come over to sing our song to you-”

“Since when have we had a song?” Charlotte laughs, pushing him in his chest, rolling her eyes when he dramatically falls back on the bed, tugging her to lay on top of him. 

“Since now. It's really romantic.” He chuckles, wrapping his arm around her, keeping her close to him and leaning into her ear, singing lowly. “I’m in love with a stripper-” he breaks off into more laughter when Charlotte smacks him with a pillow, pushing it against him over and over. “She slides down the pole and-”

“You don’t even know the words!” the girl shrieks, as he flips them, climbing on top of her, taking the pillow from her and rubbing his hand along her stomach, pushing her shirt up as he goes.

The door to Lip’s room swings open and Lip curses as his girlfriend all but vaults him off of her, tugging her shirt down in case it’s one of the younger kids. He scowls when he sees it’s just Ian, a mocking look on his face and the neck of a beer dangling between his fingers.

“Wanna knock, fuckface?!” Lip growls as his younger brother steps into the room, plopping down on the bed and throwing his arm around Charlotte, who, the traitor, immediately leans into the redhead. 

“Nah, you were done like fifteen minutes ago. You should really look into sound proofing these walls. Anyway-” Ian takes a swig of his beer. “Clear your calendars and put it in your pants, sluts, Mickey’s birthday is on Friday. Half of his piece of shit family is in jail and the other half just sucks. We’re takin’ him out.”

[milesandcorysupermacy]

"I know someone who can"

(Part 3)

1610!Miles x Confused-Black-Fem!Reader

Genre: Friends-to-lovers, Fluff, lil bit of angst

Warnings: Cursing, Use of N-word, Google Translated Spanish, That's it I think lemme know if I missed sum 🤷🏾‍♀️

Songs that it's based on: 'Ivy' By Frank Ocean, 'I Wanna Be Yours' By Arctic Monkeys, 'Love Songs' By Kaash Paige

Summary: Jaleel is trippin', Miles is mad, and you gotta fill your bestie in. That's pretty much it!

Prev: "Mami, who's calling you?"

Miles asked with slightly swollen lips. You grabbed your purse and reached inside for your phone, an slightly audible gasp came from your mouth when you saw the Caller ID.

"It's Jaleel."

---------------x-o-x-o---------------------------

Miles seems slightly taken aback by what you just said. His mind had many questions, the main one being why was Jaleel calling you? But, he put all these questions on hold once he saw your face. You were clearly in distress, pacing around the room as the phone made a constant buzz, waiting for someone to interact with the call. He couldn't just let you feel this way, you clearly didn't wanna answer the phone. But, someone had to, right? This obviously wasn't just because Miles wanted to flex being there for you when Jaleel couldn't, no that was not the case at all...

"Gimme the phone, mama."

Miles' calming tone broke you out of your infectious thoughts. You looked over at him and saw the sincerity in his eyes, knowing he was serious. You walked over to your phone hesitantly before grabbing the phone and throwing it to Miles, he caught it with one hand, not even looking due to his spidey-senses. Show off... He was staring you in the eyes the whole time, looking for any sign of discomfort in your eyes. When he saw none, he took the cue to answer the phone, but not before putting Jaleel on speaker.

"Hello?"

"H-hey, why are you on her phone? Where's Y/n at?"

"You don't gotta worry about that no more, lil bro. You fucked up your whole relationship with her, remember?"

"Nigga, that's none of your busine-"

"Nah, it is my business because she's my business. You were acting like an ass and she left you, you never deserved her anyway."

"Hol on, she never left me. What the fuck are you talking about, bro?"

"Well if she didn't, she's leaving you now. Lose her number, bye."

"Let me talk to he-"

*Click*

Miles jumped off his bed and walked over to you, hugging you from behind.

"There you go, now you'll never have to worry about him talking to you again."

You nod, and he kisses your temple.

"Lemme know if he tries to contact you again, I'll venom strike his phone."

This makes you chuckle, which causes Miles to smile. You two just stayed in the warm hug, not wanting to question the relationship yet. You know that you just kissed him, but you still don't know if you and Miles are dating! You felt it was best to just not address it right now since the moment that the two of you were having was so nice. That was until you got a text, the familiar buzz of your phone made you subconsciously reach for it, checking the notification seeing it was your mom.

________________________________________

Mother Dearest 😒💞

It's almost your curfew, did you leave from that lil boy house yet?

9:21 pm

Omw rn. I left his btw, I'm at Miles'.

9:22 pm

Good, I never liked him and his nappy dreads anyway 😒

9:23 pm

😭😭 MOM

9:24 pm. Read.

________________________________________

You clicked your phone off and placed it back into your purse, releasing yourself from the behind hug. You put your purse on and turned to face Miles.

"I gotta go, you wanna walk me home?"

"No, I wanna drive you home. We're in a New York winter right now, I'm not walking around outside when I have a choice not to!"

Miles said, animated. He looked at you like you were crazy and you shook your head, laughing.

"My bad."

You walked over to his doorway and put your shoes on, you began to open Miles' bedroom door but not without him gently removing your hand and placing it on your side. You looked over at him confused, until he opened the door and ushered you out, saying...

"Ladies first."

He smiled at you flirtatiously, before grabbing two jackets hanging on the coat rack. One was a black, north face puffer jacket, and the other was a gray, nike puffer jacket. You furrowed your eyebrows with confusion.

"I didn't bring a jacket."

"I know, but you need one."

He said before handing you the gray, nike puffer jacket. You smiled graciously from the affection that Miles was giving you.

"Thank you."

"Of course, mi preciosa."

(My precious)

You and Miles put on your jackets and he brought his hand down to yours, intertwining your fingers. You felt like a million butterflies were fluttering around in your stomach just from this small gesture. Why does he have this affect on me...? You thought. The jacket smelled just like the cologne Miles always wears. This made you smile a little bit, you felt safe in his essence. Miles led you over to the living room where his parents were sitting.

"Dad, can you give us a ride to Y/n's house?"

Miles asked. His parents turned around on the sofa and took notice of your guys' hands. Rio excitedly shook her husband's shoulders like a girl in middle school, telling her friends a secret. Jeff returned the excitement by turning to his wife, smiling extremely hard. Miles grimaced at his parent's immature actions.

"Guys, please don't make it weird! We just need a ride, please."

Miles said, sighing. Jeff got up excitedly, grabbing his coat.

"Yea, c'mon lovebirds. Let's go."

"Please don't call us that."

Miles said before shutting his front door, making you smile.

"I dunno, I think it has a nice ring to it."

You joked, making Miles groan. You 3 walked down the stairs of Miles' apartment complex. Once the two of you get into the car, Miles offers you an airpod. You excitedly accepted and relaxed to the calm, melodic tones of the song 'Ivy' By Frank Ocean. You two listened to about 5 more songs and you were finally at your house. You handed Miles his airpod and he told you to wait there as he got out of the car, at first you didn't know what he was doing but he came to your side and opened your car door.

"Bye, Mr. Morales!"

"Bye, hun. Don't forget to tell your Mom I said hi!"

Miles grabbed your hand and walked you to the doorstep of your house. You began to take off the jacket he provided until he stopped you with his voice.

"Keep it."

"You sure?"

"Of course I am, mami."

You chuckled a little bit.

"Hey, what's so funny?"

Miles said, playfully shoving you.

"I'm not laughing at you, dumbass. I'm just really happy that you care about me so much, I don't really get this type of treatment from guys a lot. Thanks."

You say, looking up into his eyes. He looked back into yours, noticing the light glare in them from the moonlight behind him. He thought he was gonna pass out from how beautiful your brown skin looked in the moonlight. It provided the most elegant contrasting of colors and light, only something a true artist like himself would notice. He also saw the way your lips were still slightly swollen from the previous makeout session, they also had a moisture to them. He didn't even notice that he was staring for so long until his dad ruined it.

*Beep*

"Will you two stop staring at each other and ring the doorbell? I'm freezing out here."

You two laughed at his dad's tone, Miles let go of your hand to ring your mom's doorbell. He had a sad puppy dog look on his face, already feeling like he was separated from you. He truly didn't want to leave, but he knew he had to once the door swung open to reveal your mom in her bonnet and pajamas.

"Oh, hey Miles. How's school going? You still doing your little art thing?"

Your mother said, trying to engage in small talk with the teenage boy in front of her. Miles smiled before answering enthusiastically.

"School's been alright, I keep my grades up so I can't complain. My art is still going good, I'm still in my AP classes."

"Oh, well that's good. I didn't know Y/n was gonna go to your house, I'm glad she prefers you over that other ugly lil boy. You two would look way better as a couple anyway, I can set you up if you want."

Your mother said as she winked at Miles.

"I'm literally right here."

Your mother chuckled and Miles grabbed your hand, kissing it before saying...

"Goodnight, Y/n."

He then walked away and got into his father's car. He left your mother squealing and giggling like a schoolgirl as you walked in the house. You playfully rolled your eyes, smirking.

"It's not that big of a deal, ma."

"Uh huh, sure. That boy wants to get with you! He's arguably better than Jaleel anyway."

"I agree with that, I broke up with him."

"Oh, so you finally listened to your mother, huh? It's about time. Y/n Morales has a better ring to it than Y/n Barker, Jaleel got a ugly last name."

You chuckled at your Mom's boldness.

"So, I know that's not the jacket you left my house with, is it Miles'?"

"Yes."

Your mom instantly grinned, before walking over to your fridge. Taking out a bottle of water for herself.

"Have fun with your new man."

She said teasingly. You playfully shook your head and began to walk down the hallway to your bedroom, still smiling from the previous events with Miles.

"Mr. Morales said hi, by the way."

You shouted from down the hall. You felt ready to end the day with it being 10 pm. You placed your Miles' jacket onto your coat hook on your bedroom door before closing it.

You walked over to your pajama drawer, pulling out an oversized white tee and some turquoise Perry the Platypus sleep shorts. You put them on and put the clothes you were previously wearing in the hamper. You plopped onto your bed and grapped your phone from your purse that was sitting on your nightstand. You saw a text notification from your best friend, K'Nyah. (Kuh-Ni-Yuh)

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

Ny Ny 😝💞

Heyyy, baeeee 🤑

10:01 pm

Heyyyy!

10:02 pm

Im bored, u wanna ft?

10:03 pm

Yeaaaa, I got sum stuff to tell u anyway

10:04 pm. Read.

________________________________________

You open your FaceTime app and click K'Nyah's contact. You open your airpod case and they automatically connect. You place one into your right ear and within 2 rings, K'Nyah answers.

"Hey, girl."

"Hey, so what u gotta tell me? It better be good, there's been a drama drought in 2024."

"You're literally a whole ass mess."

You chuckle.

"Yep, sure am. Now tell me what happened."

"So basically I had got into this little argument with Jaleel."

"Good, never liked his ass anyway. Go on."

"After we argued I was walking home and Miles saw me walking, he took me to his house and was tryna comfort me and then..."

"Then what?"

"We kinda kissed."

"WHAT?!"

"Yea, and it was really great. I feel like he cares about me like nobody else does and he gave me his coat since I didn't have one."

"You're fucking lying, show me right now."

You panned the camera over to your bedroom door with the gray jacket on the hook. You heard K'Nyah gasp.

"Yes, Finally! Bro when I'm telling you the whole ass friend group was waiting for yall to get together...I mean that. Like everybody talks about yall."

"Well that's the problem, I don't exactly know if we're together or not. I mean we kissed and it was like a whole makeout, girl. Plus he was hugging me and shit, and he kissed me goodnight in front of my mom!"

"So, where is this supposed to tell me that yall AREN'T dating?"

"I dunno, we never really established it. He answered a phone call from Jaleel and told him that I was his business but I just don’t know. That could mean anything."

"And you talking about me being a mess..."

"K'Nyah!"

"Ok, ok. My bad. But, you gotta talk to him tomorrow at school. When you do, fill me in after. I literally can't wait to give Jaleel the silent treatment tomorrow because you already know he gon' be asking me why you not talking to him."

She chuckled.

"You're so messy."

You laughed.

"Alright, well ima go to bed. See you tomorrow."

"See you."

*Click*

You sighed, putting your airpod back into it's case and placing your phone onto the charger. You put your bonnet on and grabbed your remote, turning on SpongeBob. You let the cartoon be a quiet lullaby as you laid down, dozing off into sleep. While you were laying down, one question plagued your mind...Are you and Miles dating?

-----------☆--------☆--------☆----------------

Taglist:

@im-miss-simp

@we-loveebony

[hsgucci94]

Heartbroken

Summary: Harry doesn’t want his lifestyle to affect Y/N so he only has one card left under his sleeve, and it involves breaking up.

Part 3 of His weakness, a mafia!harry short story.

Read previous parts:

Part 1 | Part 2

by no means I’m trying to romanticise this lifestyle, it’s pure fiction x

masterlist

“You better not be trying to get rid of me right now,” Y/N joked, but when she didn’t get the response she was looking for out of him, she frowned, moving her hands away from his face and using them to hug her torso instead. As if she could protect herself from whatever was coming next.

His countenance stayed as stern as it was when speaking his last two sentences, and she was starting to think he actually meant them.

“Harry-"

"Tell me you haven't thought about how different your life would be if I wasn’t in it," he cut her off. "Tell me it hasn’t crossed your mind to leave me behind and get away from all this shit, from all my shit," he moved one of his hands up to her cheek and caressed it slowly. "Tell me, baby, I won't get angry at you. I could never. You had a lot of free time to think while recovering, I bet you thought about us, and how I won't get you nowhere good."

She stressed her frown, taking in everything he had just said to her. Why would she have thought about any of that? Wasn’t he listening when she told him a moment ago how grateful she was for everything he had done for her these past weeks?

“Are you breaking up with me?” Her voice cracked, “‘S that why you’ve been so good to me? To soften the blow?”

“No,” he hastened to add, “None of that, sweetheart.” He let out a sigh and and closed his eyes afterwards.

“I don't get it then,” she harshly replied, pissed at him, herself and the goddamned conversation they were having out of nowhere, “One minute you tell me you can't live without me and the next you’re encouraging me to leave you.”

“I don’t want you to leave me. But I don’t want you to stay if you’re not sure either.”

“Sure about what, Harry?” She was exasperated.

“Sure about us, baby,” he spoke in a soft tone still.

“I am sure, are you? Because I get the feeling it’s you who doesn’t want me around anymore.”

“Y/N…”

“No, Harry.” She gulped, inhaling through her nose a few times before getting up from his lap and turning her back to him, too overwhelmed, “I’ll go sleep in the guest room. Good night.” Her voice muffled.

The moment Y/N closed the door behind her, Harry put his hands on his head, pulling at his hair in frustration.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He groaned, infuriated with himself for being like that, so dumb and insecure when it came to her.

All his brilliant qualities, those that turned him into a witty and elusive criminal, numbed whenever she was involved.

He would have put up a fight for her to sleep next to him regardless of his stupidity hadn’t he known her well enough to understand she needed some time on her own after he practically doubted the love she had for him.

He knew her feelings were genuine, as sincere as his were for her, but that was the main issue: he was scared. He didn’t know how to move forward from there. He had never before been in a relationship as serious as that one; he had never cared for anyone as much as he did for her, but he knew that no matter how good she was for him, he would only end up burying her up in his misery one way or another. The night Y/N was attacked kept on playing on his mind whenever it got the chance, making him shudder in fear just by thinking how much worse it all could have turned out.

Instead of some pretty bad looking wounds and a couple of broken ribs, it could have been her death body laid on the dark pavement for him to find it the following day.

That illusion alone gave him chills.

Everyone knew the six-feet tall and dark-haired British man didn’t fear anything, except losing her for good. She now had the chance to get away from him and move on, he was leading her the way out of all his bullshit. As much as it would pain Harry to let her go, a part of him wanted her to leave him and don’t look back. The other, however, was just too selfish to let any other man have such a diamond in the rough. Because that was what she had become. His most precious relic.

So he was conflicted with himself wether it was best to keep her or let her go.

Some time later he walked to the bathroom, where he picked up on his previous activity and brushed his teeth. Then he stripped off his clothes and walked to the bed. He tossed the duvet open and slid on his side, sighing heavily when he felt the cold and emptiness of a solitary body surrounding him. The bed that had always been cozy and warm enough for him, now felt harsh and uncomfortable without her body pressed to his.

He switched off the lights of the room and only kept on the lamp on his nightstand, which set the room in a much night-like scene. But even though he was supposed to close his eyes and get some sleep, his mind wouldn’t give him a rest. He could only think about her, about how hurt she felt when he spoke, and only prayed she hadn’t started crying as soon as she left his sight. The simple thought of her tears running down her flushed cheeks broke his heart.

He clenched his jaw, cursing himself.

His eyes wandered around the bedroom, and soon ended up on what had now became her nightstand. That piece of furniture had no special use before she came into his life. Now it was the drawer she used the most. It was where she kept all her valuables, such as her wallet or glasses cases, anything she couldn’t afford to buy a second time until it got broken or unusable. She also liked to keep there her current read and the medication she was taking for her treatment.

Her medication.

As soon as realisation hit him, Harry got up and walked to his bathroom, where he filled a glass of water and went back to the room. He opened the drawer and took out the small plastic container with the remaining pills in it before heading to where she was sleeping.

Even though Y/N liked to roll her eyes at him and tease him about how he never listened to her whenever he forgot some minor details about something she had previously mentioned, he did. He did listen to her. He might not always remember what she said, but he always tried to pay attention. So even if Y/N had told him a couple of hours before that she was feeling much better and didn’t need to take her medication as often, he didn’t want her to wake up in the middle of the night in pain and not have it near.

Being as cautious as possible, he entered the room where she was peacefully resting. Her features were relaxed and her lips slightly parted, and he couldn’t help but smile at such beautiful view.

He crossed the room in silence and left her pills on the nightstand next to her, before turning around to leave. He would have swore he had been absolutely discreet, but his sneaky steps and calculated movements were not enough to ovoid waking her up.

Y/N’s eyes opened and widened as soon as she noticed a big dark shadow moving around in the room. She was way too sleepy to distinguish who it was, so her first instinct was to scream.

Someone had entered the house and was there to hurt her once again.

She quickly got out of the bed, ready to grab the doorknob and run for her life, but two strong arms grabbed her.

“Shh, baby. Shh, it’s me, it’s just me. I’m here, I’m right here,” Harry spoke in a rush, pulling her to his chest. Her screams faded the moment she felt his skin against her, his arms wrapping around her back, securing her. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Y/N’s hands gripped his biceps anxiously, inhaling and exhaling a few times trying to get her breathing back to normal. “Shit,” she mumbled, her heart still beating hard against her chest while it echoed through her ears, “Shit, Harry.”

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said again, soothing her with small strokes on her back.

He pitched his lips in a thin line afterwards, processing what got her so terrified so suddenly. No one, and he meant no one, would get the chance to touch her after that night. He could promise her that, and wouldn’t get tired of assuring her so over and over again. He knew she was still scared of people showing up out of the blue to attack her, but he made her a promise to keep her safe above anything, and he was a man of his word. “I increased surveillance on this house and I have eyes on you at all times. You know that, right?” His words were stern, but his tone warm and calming.

“I know,” she mumbled, closing her eyes shut as if by doing so she could forget the fear she had previously experienced when, for a moment, she really thought they came back to hurt her.

She knew such thoughts were just her mind playing tricks on her because Harry had already got rid of those who assaulted her. She found about it when she mistakenly read one of his text messages a few weeks back. But still, she knew there were tons of bad guys out there ready to get a grip on her just to try get to him.

He was a mafia leader, after all.

It was inevitable.

“Y/N, look at me,” Harry caught her attention a few seconds later. She didn’t break her hold on him nor signalled she had heard him. “I need you to look at me.”

Part 4 coming soon

Please, like & share if you liked it? it’ll help so much 🥺✨thanks!! x

full masterlist

[dokyccis]

busy II | h. renjun

it’s been a while !! // part one here.

“sometimes i wonder when are you gonna stop humiliating yourself because of renjun.” yunjin says in a serious, but ironic tone.

it’s been 2 weeks since renjun left you all alone in your apartment. the way your boyfriend left coldly still gives you goosebumps and you feel like crying with the thought of him not loving you anymore.

you’re insecure about all that, you don’t wanna believe your thoughts but you feel like you need to. you need to face reality and accept the truth.

“i don’t humiliate myself.” yunjin chuckles sarcastically when you finally answer. “do i?” you genuinely ask.

“do we really have to answer?” it’s karina’s turn to say something. “that’s obvious, honey. you just need to open your eyes and see what’s going on.” she’s realistic.

maybe they’re right, you think to yourself.

those were 2 weeks of pure silence between you and renjun, he didn’t message you or call you to ask how you’ve been or just to say hi.

you feel like the feeling that used to be like fire burning in yours and renjun’s heart is now dying little by little, and you don’t want that. does renjun want that? you wonder.

you still remember the sweet thoughts you shared with renjun in silent and calm nights at your place, the atmosphere matching the way you two looked at each other and talked to each other so lovingly.

you believed that renjun was the one & only for you and would always be, but destiny stabbed you with it’s tricks.

“y/n, come on! you need to move on, y’know?” yunjin encourages you.

“it’s not like we broke up, yunjin. he just left and…” you pause. “god, i sincerely don’t know what’s going on with renjun.” you sigh deeply and hide your face in your hands.

“he’s just an ass.” karina says, making yunjin laugh and being contaminated by the red haired girl.

you laugh along with your friends, trying to shrug the pain off. it’s like you lost a significant part of you, like your heart has a big hole that’s just filled up with renjun’s presence.

you’re afraid renjun just played with you all this time, but you also can’t believe that. his sweet words, delicate touch and innocent gaze leads you to think the otherwise.

you can’t imagine your life without renjun, your mind and heart refuses to even think of the possibility. you gave your whole self to renjun, dedicating each special part of you to him.

“he may be an asshole, but i still miss him.” you reveal.

“we know that, hun’.” yunjin says, ceasing her laugh. “it’s kind of normal to miss him, though. look what you’ve created within these past 3 years, you had a pretty admirable relationship with renjun, you two were like bee and honey.” she mocks, karina nods her head in agreement.

“it’s okay to miss him, babe, we’re not judging you for that. remember that we’re your best friends, we’re here to help you recover and stay safe over all of this.” karina smiles genuinely, and you can’t be happier to have friends like yours.

“thank you so much, you two.” you smile back, pulling your two best friends into a warm, comforting and loving hug.

a little bit wild, a little bit tamed

it’s the final line, isn’t it?

a little bit lost, a little bit saved

ain’t we all just a little bit hypocrite?

you sing along to your favorite song’s lyrics. all alone at home, you’re totally distracted by the song’s rhythm and melody, like nothing or anyone else could reach you in that moment.

the thin sound of your apartment’s bell leads you out of your own thoughts and immersion, echoing in your head until it gives you a minimum headache.

you get up from the couch, making your way to the front door to open it.

“who the fuck is bothering me this late?” you ask yourself, picking up the key standing in the little desk nearby the door. you open the door.

“hey, how can i help yo-” your body froze when you looked at the person standing in front of you.

it’s like you haven’t looked at renjun for a while, like you two spent 2 years without talking to each other. he looks devastated, and you feel sick with his presence.

you try to shut your door, but renjun doesn’t let you. “please, let’s talk.” he says in a calm and low tone.

your mind doesn’t wanna let him in, but your heart is weak for renjun and everything he does. if he wants something, then you’re giving it to him.

you sigh deeply, letting renjun in before shutting your door and following him to your couch.

you two sat there in silence. renjun was looking at his fingers, maybe thinking of what he could say to you. in the other side, you felt totally restless. your hands were sweating, your heart was beating fast and your vision started getting blurry.

renjun cleared his throat, gaining your attention. you look at him.

“i know i was very immature.” he assumed. “i’m sorry for that.” he looked at you, your gaze meeting.

you immediately look away, not handling keep eye contact with him. “that’s it?” you say without even thinking, the two words swimming out of your mouth.

renjun was taken aback by your response, you could sense the way atmosphere in the room got more tense than it already was.

“what… what do you mean?” he tilts his head towards you in confusion.

every word said by renjun made you feel more and more nervous, like your heart could explode at any moment. “i mean, you ghosted me for 2 weeks, you never explained me why you were acting like that…” you gain courage to look him in the eyes.

“i cannot accept your apology if you can’t explain me what’s happening.” you’re clear. renjun keeps looking at you, looking for answers in your eyes.

“i told you everything’s oka-” you cut him.

“it’s not okay, renjun!” you yell, getting up from the couch with an impulse. “you always say it’s okay, when it’s evidently not okay.” you burst, emphasizing the “not” in the phrase.

“y/n, calm do-” you cut him again.

“how can i calm down?! tell me, renjun! how the heck can i calm down? you didn’t contact me for 2 weeks, i cried everyday because i thought you didn’t love me,” you pause, sighing deeply before continuing. “and you want me to calm down?”

“look, if you came here just to bother the shit out of me, then leave.” your tone is heavy and serious. “i’m already too stressed and i really don’t wanna hear your stupid excuses anymo-” it’s renjun’s turn to cut you off.

“can you please hear me?” he speaks a little louder. “god, listen to me for once in your life!” he exclaims and you cross your arms, signing for him to continue.

“i’m sorry for ghosting you, i’m sorry for everything i did to you all this time.” he gets up from the couch, facing you. “i love you so much, y/n. you don’t even imagine how much it hurts to know that i made you feel like that.” he steps closer.

you feel your shoulders tense, your hands sweat again and your breath stop with him getting closer.

“y/n.” he takes you by the arm, hugging you tightly. “please, forgive me.” his voice is weak.

you feel the tears form in your eyes, threatening to fall and stain your whole face. renjun tightens up the hug even more when he noticed you didn’t answer him, wanting a minimum reaction from you.

“please, y/n.” he begs. “i know i messed up, i know i made stupid excuses, i know i should pay more attention to you.” renjun said, feeling the tears fall all over his face. “but please, stay.” he begs one more time.

you can’t control yourself, hugging renjun back and crying like a newborn baby in renjun’s arms. his whispered-apologies could still be heard by you, followed by his hands going to your hair and a kiss being deposited in your forehead.

“please, i’m so sorry. please forgive me, y/n.” he begs for the third time.

your heart melted over renjun’s broken tone. you couldn’t handle one more week away from him, so you didn’t think twice before saying:

“i forgive you, jun.”

renjun looked at you with wide eyes, a smiling growing in his face and lightening up his dark eyes. “a-are you serious?” he stuttered. you nod in agreement.

the boy hugs you again, but this time the embrace is filled with happiness and relief. you smile, your arms still wrapped around his body.

“thank you so much, y/n.” renjun thanks you. “i swear i’ll never do that again, i swear to god.” he says without letting go, making you feel safe in his arms after a long time feeling empty when hugging him.

you spend minutes hugging renjun, hearing him apologize to you more than he should and hearing him trying his best to convince you he would never do that again.

the love, affection and admiration that used to be like fire burning in your heart now feels like it again. your love battery with renjun is finally charging itself up after so much time.

you felt like you just returned home and you really don’t wanna ever leave again.

“renjun, we spent about 10 minutes hugging,” you point out. “i think we can pull away, can’t we?”

“let’s stay like this for a little longer, please.” he asks, burrying his face in your neck. you giggle with your boyfriend’s attitude, whispering sweet things and melting in the pleasure sensation that genuine touch gave you.

[anime-chick]

YYH live action - disappointments and highlights!

disappointments:

off the bat - it's five episodes and the pacing and storylines are squished, but you just have to accept these limitations and embrace this for what it is - MOVING ON

the music - it was generic and had some weird choices and overall didn't feel very cohesive?

hiei's zoomies - the sound effect when he's going fast is a bit cartoony in a bad way

3 times the cgi was noticeably iffy: genkai's younger face, when yusuke and kurama went into the mirror of forlorn hope, the blooms coming out of karasu

skipping over hiei and kurama's backgrounds - this is what made me think this series is more for yyh fan than anyone else, at the very least i would think there would be some exposition about youko kurama or hiei being a thief

bui - he was flat and really just there for hiei to show off his dragon (which isnt a bad reason! but in comparison to karasu, he didn't have much of a personality, even after taking off his armor)

highlights:

fucking everything i loved it askldjhsdfg

SMILE BOMB!!!!

but really - kuwabara's introduction, yusuke's flying drop kick, it perfectly captured their dynamic

kuwabara in general, he was everything i hoped he'd be

the costuming: while there wasn't as much variety in what yusuke and co. wore, there were lots of details that made everyone's clothes stand out (the chains and lining on kuwabara's uniform, yusuke's cropped uniform top, everything hiei wore to the buckled strap for his sword in the back, kurama's magenta uniform with the gold lining that IS NOT his school uniform but just - something he wears i guess?? which makes it even more insane and i love that)

THE FIGHT SCENES, they put so much effort into each fight and you can tell and it makes the show stand out SO MUCH in comparison to other live action adaptations

the way they, despite having to condense so much of the story, managed to tell a very interesting and entertaining twist to the story without losing too much

hiei and kuwabara arguing - hiei going out of his way to tell kuwabara to get away from yukina <- i'm still laughing

speaking of - THE HUMOR, it was serious! it was funny! it did a great job of balancing out the two

the dynamic of the group is just like in the anime/manga (though we didn't get as much of them interacting as i'd like, we got some and i enjoyed every bit of it!)

karasu. he was creepy. he was gay. his eyeliner was sharp. his attacks looked awesome. his fight lived up to his anime counterpart

the toguro brothers. while we didn't get as much of a lead up, they were perfect. older toguro was straight out of a horror movie. younger toguro managed to be complex and not just a big muscular villain. there was depth to him that felt very authentic.

hiei diving off the tower, i really enjoyed seeing his demonic abilities on display (though where were his fire powers???)

YOUKO KURAMA. i was so worried he'd look terrible in live action but he was just pretty and fluffy and aslkdjhsdfg

hiei and yukina's reunion. awkward. sincere. sweet. sad. the fact that hiei was surprised yukina even spoke to him. i wanna squish the two of them

everyone was beat to hell, their clothes were crunchy and gritty and i like that no one was left 'pristine' like in so many other shows - these boys got nasty

everything honestly just everything i watched the entire five episodes grinning and having a blast

controversial opinion:

i like kurama's wig. i said it. yeah. i do.

[puella-1n-somn10]

⚔️Puella Magi Madoka Magica x Pokemon Sword/Shield: Hop and his Witch Form⚔️

Word count w/o intro: 11,703

Look, I know that the Traveler from Genshin won that poll, but...if I may be honest, I am not ready for what concept I had for them to completely topple apart all thanks to a single shred of lore being aimed at my head at mach speed. Trust me, fellas, I saw the roller coaster that is the Fontaine chapter; if shit is that crazy while we are halfway through the main story, then I dread the revelations that will befall us all when SNEZHNAYA rolls around-!

With all that being said...welcome back, ladies, gents, and those who have casted the dreaded concept of gender out of their lives! For those who are unaware, we are here today to witness what would happen if I were to take the worldbuilding of Puella Magi Madoka Magica and apply them to other media. Today's unfortunate guest for today is none other than the goat himself, Hop!

...Not funny? Ah, alright-

Yes, I am aware that Hop's reputation amongst the fanbase is...controversial at best. Generally speaking, I've noticed that the negative image of this character was formed by the fans prematurely judging him based on his initial lines of dialogue, passionate (which is often mischaracterized as cheerful) attitude, and, I shit you all not, animations (which is more of a fault caused by tight release schedules and the developers being rushed than that of the character himself). From these alone, he tends to be placed on tiers lower than the fucking Gen 6 rivals (no hate towards them, promise, I just wish they were fleshed out more)- which proves to me that not only are those types of Pokemon fans purely visual beings, but that media literacy is dead, rotting, and its tombstone has been Hyper Beamed to Hell and back-

BUT we're not here to rant now, aren't we? My...personal, burning distaste towards those who call him a Hau clone aside, we are here to dissect his character- in more literal ways than one! If I may be honest, this analysis post thinly disguised as a silly, crossover ficlet was created as a thought and writing exercise for myself, and it was quite fun, if I must admit! So I hope from the bottom of my heart that you guys find as much joy in Hop's pain and suffering as I did while writing it!

Just a few quick warnings, this post will contain mentions of child neglect and favoritism, implications of social ostracization and public shaming, and, I cannot stress this enough, mentions of self destruction/S-H/su-c-de. If any of these themes are too triggering, especially that last one, please, please click away! I am being serious here- take the utmost care, and be safe!

Of course, spoilers for Madoka Magica, Magia Record (Anime ver.), and Pokemon SWSH are right up ahead! If I may be honest, I haven't touched upon the DLCs yet, so spoilers regarding them will be minimal at most. There will also be shades of PostwickShipping (Hop <3 Gloria) present, so if that isn't your cup of tea, I sincerely apologize.

It would also be fitting to play some Decretum on the side, too, especially when we get to the despair bit- God damn, he and Sayaka need to be buddies.

-The Wish, Possible Powers, and Soul Gem-

"Before we ever started out on this journey… I remember watching Lee on the telly. He was like a bright star, so strong I could hardly bear to look right at him. But now, I can tell just how strong he really is… And what he's got that I haven't…"

Now, I could go the easy way and say that he'd wish to be as great as Leon- to become as strong as the champion and equally undefeatable, but, honestly, not only does this feel cheap, it feels so...unlike Hop as a character. He doesn't just want to defeat Leon- he wants to prove his worth and make his mark as a trainer. Hop, like the rest of Galar, idolizes his brother- so much so that he copied his strategies and every move; a mistake that had gotten him to lose the fight in the Circhester stadium even after facing off against so many trials and tribulations-

After all, as Bede said it in his own...brutish way, if people looked down on Hop, they will do the same to Leon - the man who Hop looks up to as not just an older sibling, but as a symbol- as an unshakable LEGEND, and not just as a human being -. So if the perception of the man who Hop saw as a hero was to shake all thanks to him...it'd be quite devastating, to say the least. It was this possibility that hit him the most- where his worth and identity came into question.

Hop may dislike losing - a sentiment that grows stronger every time you defeat him -, but what he fears even more is disappointing others; lowering his and his brother's worth in their eyes. He wanted to be number #1 because it was expected of him to do so, by himself, by the public, and, when you think about it, even by his family - whether consciously or not -...

After all, just look at his home- do you see any pictures of Hop around? Left and right you find memorabilia and trophies belonging to Leon, but how much mementos of Hop can you find? Whether or not he was aware of it, Hop craved not just the glory of his brother, but also the validation and positive attention.

This was his path in life- no, this was his destiny, as he'd put it; to become as strong as his hero and receive that blazing torch after living in his shadow for so long. To live up to his splendor, to inspire others to get up and take a stance, and to make something out of himself. His brother was a hero- so it makes sense to imitate someone as amazing and strong as him.

So, after analyzing his character for a bit, his wish could go along the lines of wanting to be by his brother's side, or, more appropriately, to make an impact on the world and the lives of others like he did. After all, we are assuming that he made the contract a bit before his constant losses began to fuck with him; he had confidence in his abilities at least during the beginning, and was certain that he was going to emerge from the final battle victorious.

The powers resulting from this wish could go in a lot of different ways; after all, wishing to make an impact is quite abstract. It isn't like he wished for someone else to get healed or to win on a lottery; so trying to make powers based on that would be tricky. My best guess is that his powers are associated with memories and legacies, which, once more, also fits in really well with how he documented and tried to mimic Leon's strategies and actions.

Now, before we focus on his soul gem and witness it crumble along with his self-esteem, we're going to take a good look at his attire upon transformation into his Magical Boy form- an aspect that, regrettably, I've forgotten to cover back while I was analyzing Medic. Now, this part may be a little unclear to some upon first reviewing the designs present in PMMM, but a pattern is there- and one of the most common reasons behind a magi's design is the intent behind their wish and their desires before or after taking on the contract. In order to prove my point, I'm gonna list some examples:

Sayaka Miki is a knight in shining armor; she wanted to uphold the ideal of a magical girl and fight for what's right

Homura Akemi's outfit is rather...funerary, for lack of a better term; she made her wish as result of her losing Madoka, and had more or less doomed herself to watching the demise of her beloved over and over again

Nagisa's outfit looks like an everyday, ordinary outfit for someone her age; she craved a normal life where she was able to be just like the other kids around her- not having to worry about living in a dump and caring for an unstable parent

Iroha's design invokes the idea of a ranger or even a mercenary; she is dedicated to finding her sister at what cost, even if most of the evidence (or lack there-of) pointed towards Ui not existing in the first place

Being in the spotlight of someone else's life, looking up to his brother, and making said champion an example on how he should lead his life...I think a stereotypical, legendary hero might do it; the main protagonist of tales like Beowulf or even your everyday JRPGs. Hop often made references to him 'weaving his own legend', so this would make perfect sense!

Speaking of-

Regarding his soul gem's shape, simple- upon transformation, it would look just like a small flame placed on his solar plexus like a brooch or button. Comparisons to Leon's charizard aside, it is a simple and straightforward symbol representing his personality; passionate, competitive, hot-headed, and bright- but all flames are prone to dying out one way or another. Hop's association with fire is also presented to us in-canon in his second league card, with him pulling off Leon's signature pose as flames wildly danced around him.

This also brings the idea of him burning himself away to fit into his ideal of a champion to mind, or literally burning himself out. A raging fire ready to render all that is in its path into ash- including himself.

The emblem on the middle of its egg form is a little harder for me to interpret fully. I could go with the easy way and say that it's probably the same as its form upon his Puer Magi transformation, but we all know that my perfectionist ass would not just simply settle with that. The options on our hands are as follows;

The easy option, the Hop flower (symbolizing how becoming a professor is his true calling in life)

A coat of arms (royalty themes- also, a pun on Eternatus' eternamax form, coat of ARMS, heheh)

A spiral (symbol of futility, continuation, cycles, and a downward spiral)

A coat of arms WITH a spiral in the middle (look at the above two points)

A flag (him wishing to create his own legend, and how he was initially a foot ahead of us during the start of our journey together)

A windmill (...we'll get to that, but let's assume it's because of Postwick for now- I personally prefer this one)

A shield with two crossed swords (again, royalty and hero themes)

As for its color, here is where things get interesting; I already spoke about how most soul gems correspond with the eye color of their respective magi, since "eyes are the windows to a person's soul", so a brilliant gold would fit both with this unwritten rule and thematically. However, then I got thinking- Red is also an applicable color, right? It fits his personality, and would clash really well with the cool purples and blues...until I realized that not only is red already going to be present as a sort of secondary (if not primary) color to go along with the existing cool palette in mind, but the added gold highlights would embolden it and make sure this design really pops.

Besides, making red a central color for his magi outfit also adds in to the idea of him still mimicking Leon, whose associated colors are purple, gold, and, of course, the reds of his cape! We aren't completely sure as to how much control a magi has over the outfit they'll don upon transformation, but we do know that Madoka actually designed her own magical clothing, so some input from the magi themselves, whether consciously or not, does contribute to the matter. This would also make a cute little homage to his champion outfit in Pokemon Masters EX!

One last point before we get to the part you've all been waiting for, we have to look at his weapon; yes, his powers are probably associated with memories or even perception, but, according to my research, one's weapon doesn't necessarily have to be tied to the wish. As a matter of fact, aside from Mami's ribbons (symbolizing her being tied to the life of a magical girl and her capturing others in this web of malice whether consciously or not- a literal lifeline), most of the cast's weapons are unrelated to the wishes made, and, like the aforementioned outfits, are more tied to the magi's intents or even personalities;

Nagisa's is a trumpet that blows out bubbles. She wanted her mother to hear her, but she's only ever able to let out little squeaks; the dichotomy between her desire to be acknowledged and wanting to be a decent daughter to a horrible person like her mother.

Homura's is a shield; she wishes to protect Madoka, but a shield alone cannot deflect everything threatening her sweet rose. There's also the symbolism of her hiding behind a shield, both as Moemura (shy and reserved) and Cool Homu (covering her emotions with an aloof exterior); in both cases, she's hiding herself away from the world.

Sayaka's is a cutlass sword. Go figure.

I am not completely sure on Madoka's; she dislikes brutal fighting, so it would make sense for her to use a long-range weapon that she's able to use to snipe enemies from a safe-enough distance. I also heard that a bow and arrow have some sort of significance in Christian lore, but, to be frank, I am not completely sure about this; this section requires further study.

Again, I gotta thank @bluethepearldiver for saving my butt here and on the upcoming natures section! According to them, since I had already removed swords and shields from the equation in order to make space for both Gloria and Victor, a polearm type of weapon would fit him the most! In their own, brilliant words, it is "representing how unattainable his goal ultimately is", and, in my opinion, it is a mid-range weapon- when utilized correctly, Hop would be able to conquer battles that would require either long or short ranged attacks to clear! Also, personally, it brings the image of a sheep herder to mind.

As for the specific type of polearm, that one would require a lot more creativity, but, since Hop comes from Postwick, a weapon that originates from Europe would be fitting. After thinking about it, I believe his weapon is probably a Halberd, due to how it can pierce, chop, or slash depending on the situation. It would also symbolize poor, bright-eyed Hop constantly changing his strategies and teams in order to catch up to us- to finally match us in strength. Every time we met him, he would have different strategies, a different team, a different outlook- he tried every viable, effective strategy, tearing apart the aspects of himself that were deemed roadblocks, pushing himself until he was burning himself way too brightly for his own good, yet...

-Descent Into Despair-

He lost. He had lost yet again, hasn't he?

His grip on the pokeball was shaky. The eyes of the crowd fixated on him as the last of his pokemon fell to the ground. Frozen air filled his lungs; his eyes felt like they were turned to stone, as did the veins in his arms.

The whispers grew louder; the crowd's collective judgement was being passed from one attendant to another. His teeth were about to shatter from the pressure around him alone. Not even Melony's concerns were registered on his mind; all the words around him amalgamated into a brute cacophony that choked all the will and rationality out of him.

His heart was on fire. His lips were dried as he stared at the nothingness before him. It was so hard to continue standing up- fucking impossible to focus on anything but this blunder forged by his own hands- which he now sees as nothing but useless vestiges. His heart was a war drum in the midst of conflict; beating as though the drummer's life was on the line if they were to dare and drop the pace. How he wanted to gouge his own eyes out and rip those ears out...

"Pitiful."

What on Earth was he missing?

He tried to change his strategies, he really did. The sad look on his pokemon’s eyes broke him every time, but they just couldn’t be of good help…he had to be a better trainer.

That’s what good trainers do, right? They make sure their teams were optimal. After all, strategy came first; that was what he learned from all these battles that long moved his heart.

"Foolish."

Another loss.

He looked down at his final, fallen comrade, not taking his shaking hands into account. Was it the cold? The stress? The sheer disbelief of what was before him?

Or was it frustration? A poison seeping between his clenched teeth- ready to curse out himself and direct his anger to the world? Readying him to pound against the earth beneath him until his knuckles were mangled and bloody?

No...no, this can't be it. He had to push himself further- he had to be better. Not a single Pokemon of his would listen to someone as fragile as he was; he had to make an example out of himself if he had to be a strong leader- a hero to them...

"Hypocrite."

Wooloo...

You promised, didn't you?

He stifled his own sobs. Oh, how could you have done this to them, Hop? They were the closest thing you had to a childhood friend! They were right by your side to the very end! All you had to do was to keep their head up, tell them it wasn't their fault, and that you would still enter the league together if you both focused! All you had to do was stay strong-

But you couldn't. You just had to up and leave them; cast them to the dirt where you dragged his good name through.

In the end, he couldn't even uphold that.

"Pathetic."

Over and over...over and over, he had repeated this fruitless, pitiful endeavor- all to no avail.

Finding himself floating adrift, Hop feels as though his very existence was slowly slipping from his fingers; becoming one with the very void surrounding him. He couldn't even feel his limbs, much less his face.

No matter how much he had stretched himself so thin, it just wouldn't work. The evidence was there before him, for all of Galar to see- his true rival and his brother on that field together, the latter holding the other's hand and raising it up in the air...that no matter what he did, all the sacrifices he had made, it was all up there in the air like smoke. His dreams, hopes, and ambitions- gone with what shine in his eyes that were left.

Oh, little sheep...do you not realize that you have tangled yourself within this spider web- the very definition of insanity?

"Worthless."

He's tired.

With each loss, it got a lot harder for him to get up and walk away.

His legs were shaking, and not just due to the harsh winds around him. The winds were picking up their pace, but the eyes, the eyes, the eyes-

Why must you insist on further embarrassing yourself, young man? Can't you tell when it's the time for you to just drop everything and move on with something better for everyone else's sake?

You're just embarrassing yourself at this point- nothing more than a clown attracting disrespect and shame like flies to a rotting carcass much like yourself.

...

Yeah...

What if...it was him?

He couldn't take the watchful gazes of the crowded streets anymore. Oh, how he wanted to hide away in the corners of the world- render his own face into nothing but a crimson pulp just so their judgemental glares, mocking smiles, and whispers would finally leave him alone and hollow.

His heart was racing- his veins were on fire, and his arms were about to burst.

It was too much... Upon stumbling upon a silent, empty, dirty alleyway, he slumped onto his knees as he shook from both the cold and pressure of all the bottled up frustrations in him. At long last, the waterworks finally broke out. Only the night sky and howling winds were his current company; doing little to distract him from his pained heartbeats and dried up throat.

He couldn't hold on to his victories, no matter how feeble or small. It didn't matter what he did or how much he tried, all that he's tried holding on to will just slip away from his fingers, like the breaths of fresh, cold air escaping him; inhaling just enough as to not allow him to pass out on the spot, but it was only that much.

The sound of metal clanging on the ground escaped his ears. It was only when he was finally slumped on the ground that he had noticed the fading luminescence just before his reach. Even as his body shook from the mental strain and the cold, he still recognized the jewel that was on the dirtied ground. Hands shaking, he slowly picked up the once brilliant object...

Through jittering teeth, he just couldn't help but sob whilst instinctively smiling; the sound coming out like a sort of soft giggle...

Hahahah...oh, don't tell him- don't tell him he couldn't...

What a mockery- look at him, everyone! Not only had he failed the challenges before him, but, oh, this poor damn pest- he couldn't even look after his own damn soul gem! The very thing he had traded away what was left of his identity outside of the league for- and even then, with his wish, it only made sure that his mistakes would return to him in even stronger, more merciless manners. Was it due to him being unable to focus on both perfecting his strategies and his duties as a puer magi?

For all Hop cared at that moment, it was just another sign of his pathetic, useless existence. Worthlessness- no, he was way beneath that; he had failed. He had failed, he had failed, he had failed, he lost, he had motherfucking lost.

Answer yourself this, Hop- Do tell how you expected to come so far like this! How you have managed to shamble and shuffle through the league challenge like the worm you are, with nothing but another's achievements to your name- and you couldn't even take good care of that!

"...Useless..."

Hop shakily breathed out.

"Hah...if only I wasn't born so useless..."

His grip on both sides of his head grew tighter. As he gritted his teeth and his eyes twitched, one last thought flashed in his mind-

"There's...nowhere left for me..."

"Everyone else is moving on without someone...some pest like I am..."

With all the air that was left in his lungs, Hop roared into the night and unleashed all the grief in his heart. His anguished wail was interrupted by a sudden crash, and all that was left were the howling, autumnal winds...

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Word of the contestants' escalating behaviors grew amongst the people of Galar.

At first, it manifested as deepened anxieties; competitors being so overwhelmed by the upcoming events that it caused them to hyperventilate, shake uncontrollably in between sobs and unintelligible screams, or, at worst, completely melt down; faces reddened by tears as they were unable to remove themselves from the ground due to the paralyzing nervousness and hysteria. Initially, these incidents were brushed off as being related to the individuals' worries over the nature of the Gym Challenge, on top of the resulting trauma caused by the Darkest Day; even after the region was granted another chance at seeing the bright, blue skies, tensions were still at an all-time high, so, at the time, this appeared to have been the most rational conclusion.

It was when they've descended into thrashing bitterness and violence, however, that concern was finally demanded and raised- and, along with them, a whole basket of questions that craved all the answers in the world; anything to make sense of what was unraveling. Many a stadium had to close down - some even in the midst of these breakouts - for investigation purposes in order to get to the bottom of this anomaly.

Before long, rumors began to spread amongst the Galarian public- both on the streets and on social media; ranging from a contamination of sorts, to possible side effects of the Darkest Day that the current chairman was uninformed of. In the end, one by one, the majority of the gym leaders had to step forward admit that they knew as much as the rest did regarding the matter, but that did little to help stop the creation and spread of conspiracy theories, and they soon devolved into a competition of its own; on whose hypothesis is the most click-worthy and attention-grabbing.

Nothing was stacking up; everything had been tested - the water, the air, the soil, and especially the power spots -, the stadiums were inspected from top to bottom, and even the gym leaders were interviewed; it all came back negative.

The chairman himself had gone dark.

In the midst of the mass hysteria, right everyone's noses, the range of whatever was influencing these stadiums, the...being that has sending all these people into these frenzies...was growing.

Violent breakouts and missing persons reports spiked without ever showing a sign of slowing down. Nay, not even the gym leaders were spared- with Bea finally coming to her senses while Allister tried to subdue her and not hurt the rest around her, and Milo's herd of Wooloo going completely berserk and in complete panic not unlike the contestants and their own pokemon.

It was at its assumed worst when it had finally reached Postwick Town. Most of Galar had succumbed to what was engulfing it with its malice and twisted hopes, and, according to theorists, they doubted it would stop there. The people residing in the Isle of Armor and Crown Tundra were given the order to lock down and cease all functions until further information's released, in the vain hopes of preventing the spread of its influence.

And then-

Silence.

Everything around them was completely dim, with nothing but small flickers of flame and their own eyes' adaptation to help traverse them through what became of the region; a dim, cold land with ashy skies overhead, overrun with scared wildlife and...monsters- beasts you have never seen the likes of before. Perhaps staying still while you're able to recognize Galar while you could would be the wisest choice; stray far enough, and the world around you will fade, shift, and turn, until you find yourself not outdoors anymore, but in a dingy, suffocating hallway filled with cracks and little to no light-

and, soon enough, you will realize that you are not alone.

To the most fortunate (or unlucky, depending on the perspective), the sight of the missing people was there for them to see; lined up for their next battles and subsequent executions. Days of being trapped, fought, beaten up, and isolated in pain did a number on their psyches, and that is without mentioning the existing effects that have already engulfed Galar; plunging them into insanity.

By the braver and most informed few, most of the missing people have currently been accounted for- most, had it not been for the unfortunate casualties resulting from...all that has been unfolding around them, whether they were still yet to be found, were done in by beasts swarming through these twisting tunnels, condemned by whatever's waiting for them at the center of this cursed maze, or...just couldn't take it anymore, is still up in the air. Those whose statuses have not yet been confirmed included the younger brother of the former champion himself- who, quite possibly, may have been one of the earliest victims, if the timeline was to serve them right-

Oh, but if only they knew better- that the bright-eyed, enthusiastic Hop was right back to where it all started; watching the competition from atop the stage, waiting for the next match to begin. The empty husk that was once "Hop" was silent; slumped to the back to his seat with his dull, milky eyes staring into the distance, as the crowds roared once the hero and his new challenger entered the fray.

Yes...yes! Cheer for him! ONLY HIM!

Shaking from the cold and the tension of her surroundings, Gloria's attention darted from the armored monstrosity to her unconscious rival amongst the masses. His colors all but completely desaturated- it was nothing short of a miracle seeing his body still somewhat intact, though his sunken face and sloughing skin - some even falling as soon as she grabbed on to him; revealing pale bone -...without thinking, the armored girl screamed.

Contrasting Gloria's priority shifting from grabbing on to Hop's corpse and make a break for it to taking down that thing who must have caused it, Leon was...silent. His heart sank as he fell on his knees- his eyes shook as he fixated on the monster before them. His blood ran ice cold; it was so hard to breathe without sobbing...

Gloria and the gym leaders who have finally located the arena - those who have and haven't contracted - deemed that being a monster- Hop's God damned murderer, but Leon knew better.

The gold hues that were pooling from what's assumed to be the monster's eyes were unmistakable.

His own little brother was right before him, waiting to fight him in the middle of this arena-

Just like how he had promised- like how he had always wished for...

-The Witch's Nature-

Ah, the most unpredictable section of this post- the one where yours truly is expected to agonize and sob over all the options before me. Character complexities are complex! Multiple reasons behind despair! Oh, how is your truly ever going to choose the perfect nature for a warlock that would not only encompass the magi's goals and history with only a few words, but one that would also feel fitting for a spooky being like a witch?!

Welp- once more, I have thank Blue for their brilliant input once more! They've decided that his nature would be Admiration, and, honestly, it's genius! It not only fits his overall character, goals, and what caused his sanity to go downhill with the brakes cut off, but it has the right amount of dissonance that the witches of PMMM are known for! Again, this has been your reminder to support them- c'mon, chop chop, that's an order.

Of course, nothing wrong with mentioning all the other, though scrapped, natures. Again, you're all free to reinterpret the warlock to your hearts' content, and if you do have any other suggestion that would fit, please let me know! I not only want to understand Hop's character better, but I do wish to improve my character-deciphering and writing skills. Once more, I encourage all sorts of fair criticism heading my way, and, with all that being said, here's the losers' club:

Reflective

Smitten

Idolizing/Idolization

Competitive (decided that this one might fit Nemona better if I ever got into ScaVio and made a witch for her. Later. Inshallah.)

Self-abandonment (look at the above, but with Bede instead)

Self-immolation

Guilty

To yearn/Yearning (again, Nemona)

-The Witch's Appearance-

"It's not enough! I've got to try harder! And harder and harder till no one's laughing!"

Alright, first thing's first, before we dive into ANYTHING, we need to touch upon Hop's self-image and how it transforms through the course of the game. From the beginning, he is just so confident in his abilities and goals; it wasn't just a desire, it's a goal- he will beat Leon! He will become champion! One day, he's going to be on that stage; he WILL fight Leon, and he WILL beat him- just we wait!

And 'wait' we didn't.

For all his talk about creating his own legend, of taking up the mantle, we have done nothing but drag his face through the dirt without failure.

The more we beat that poor fella up, the more...desperate he became, and it gets cranked up to 11 once Bede humiliated him; calling him a waste of space, and that all he is doing is tainting his brother's legacy by trying, so it would be best for all parties involved he should just stop that. If he just stopped trying at all. If he just gave up at once. He still tries to maintain the spirit of friendly competition between the main character and himself, but the constant humiliation has been getting to him, and the talons that are digging in to his mind are sharp.

It is then that we finally realize that the once-confident trainer who initially accompanied us is no more. This hatred towards himself only grew with time, and, even when he had reintegrated Wooloo/Dubwool into his team, his self-worth was still nigh-non existent; he dared not accompany us during even the post-game story, believing that he would just be slowing us all down, and how we would fare and be better without someone like him around.

In Hop's eyes, he was a burden; a waste of space, and, no matter how much he tried to fight it, those words would persistently repeat in his mind. His constant defeats didn't help, either, whether it was by our or any other trainer's hands-

Hell, it can be argued that Hop's earlier confidence and passion were nothing but "fronts"; he had always cheered Leon on and idealized (dare I say even worshiped) him to no end, but, aside from the promise that he would, one day, defeat his brother and become a champion, what other positive things did he say about himself? What other dreams did he hold? He owed so much of his own knowledge about Pokemon battles to Leon, after all. This can be seen in the third episode of Pokemon: Twilight Wings, if we choose to interpret Wooloo's actions as reflective of Hop's- trying to be something it is not, and, ultimately, causing it to stray far from "home".

He wanted to be the hero of his own story. That's all he wished for. Instead, we've shoved him into the sidelines- face first on the dirt, without even realizing our strengths.

History repeats once more- the tale of Leon and Sonia all over again.

The image of a knight, a warrior, a hero is definitely a strong base to start it all off. The ideal knight in shining armor, he who stands up for everything right- the unbeatable champion of the people. Not just a person to look up to, but a symbol- that's all he wanted to become; just like how he saw his brother.

When he realized that his current tactics didn't work, everything had to go out the window. We aren't saying this lightly- everything. His plans, his . He had to change everything about himself- until he realized that the problem weren't his teams or his plans...it was him. It has always been his fault- he was just weak, nothing more than a pathetic worm.

The armor is scraping every fiber of his being. No matter what, he still cannot attain the strength and glory of a champion- so he has to keep doing this; break and melt himself. It isn't right, it hurts, but he deserves that pain- he deserves the agony and so much worse for the sin of his existence.

But it's not enough. It's not enough, and it will never be enough. Flaming hot, red daggers will forever pierce through his flesh and skin; melting and reshaping him not necessarily just to fit his desired goal, but as punishment.

It doesn't matter, though. It doesn't change his sheer, fucking incompetence. He'd bash himself against the wall, turn his knuckles bloody, and have his howls of torment be drowned out by his observers' whispers and harsh judgements, but it doesn't change the fact that he deserved every second of it. He had to keep molding himself, he had to suffer, he had to pay for being such a pest to everyone's lives and for being so weak...

No matter how much he tried, it doesn't change the truth that he is no damn hero; he is here as a prisoner, present to repent for his crimes of his pathetic existence...

Oh, yeah. Futility is not just a present theme, but we are running to the HILLS with it.

Next up, we look at his actions- the "spice" and depth this brings to his warlock's design.

Let's retrace our steps a bit and look at Hop's character before and after the main story; as soon as we boot up the game for the first time, there we see Hop being so excited over his brother finally coming home- he was practically shaking and jumping by the news of it alone! He just couldn't wait to see him again, much less what he must have brought back with him- and, when he laid his eyes on the starters and chose his, he was over the moon and the sun; this was the beginning of his legacy! Ah, even his own mother said that he had to learn some patience.

Compare and contrast to his attitude in postgame- he's a lot more mellowed out, but that can be better described as him finally being burnt out. He had nowhere to go, no goal to attain, and not a single strength to his name. Bede and Marnie are training to become gym leaders, Leon's the new chairman of the Galar league, Sonia is on the way to become the new regional professor, but Hop? There was nothing left for him. There isn't anything he was able to do that others could do even better- all that was left for him was to rot in the fields, forgotten and cast away like the object of shame he was.

"I don't know how much I can really help... If I come along, I might just end up slowing the rest of you down..."

I've already established how the warlock might be imprisoned in a sense; all to symbolize how he must have felt during his downfall and the lengths he went through in order to become someone worthy of becoming champion- of sharing his brother's legacy, but we should also take how he first started off into account. We already have the pain, but where is the tragedy in it all? The downfall of his confidence? The fall of Hop, the once bright-eyed, confident, and proud young man? How could we symbolize the face that we have flicked his passion and convictions away with the push of our buttons?

Passion...glory...destruction...hotheadedness...Lee...Charizard...

"Fire- and lots of it!"

Yeah, this should not come off as a surprise - given how I have already mentioned it dozens of times already -, but, hey, if Ophelia has a lot of flames in her design to symbolize the tragic end of her family and her own hotheadedness, then I can't see why the same cannot be applicable to our uncrowned prince of Galar. Truth be told, I think the fire is burning at him to this day; as I already mentioned, he is in a constant state of melting down and reshaping himself to no end to fit an ideal that is so far away from him, and what better way to do so than by forcing himself to endure these flames to no end- not just to burn away all his mistakes, but to subject himself to what rage and disappointment he believes Leon must be feeling? You cannot ask for a more fitting punishment, no? Quite ironic as well, if you'd ask me.

Plus, as a warlock, he wants the people to cheer for him- only him! What better way is there to grab their attention and love than by becoming the brightest thing on the battlefield?! Yes, it's all worth it in the end, hearing the people of Galar scream just for him alone- oh, he couldn't be happier! That is all he desires! If we thought Oktavia craved attention, think again.

Speaking of lengths he went through to become someone he is not, let's talk about him changing his teams; this is his point of transformation as a character, where the cracks in his confidence begin to grow alongside his desperation. At this stage, Hop was willing to make any sacrifice necessary to meet that goal of his- if he fails, not only were his dreams on the line, but so was Leon's reputation. The only constant between these teams is the starter Leon gave him- with teary eyes and a regretful heart, he had damned the experiences and memories he shared with the 'mons he caught along the way, for all that mattered at that moment, all that was worth keeping, was the one thing that held any sort of direct connection to his future glory; the very gift his brother gave him. It should be worth it though, right? He's only becoming better, becoming stronger, becoming the best trainer he could be-

Isn't that right, Wooloo?

Oh, man, wooloo. What kind of Hop-centric design would this be if I didn't incorporate this cute little sheep in some form or another? If not the sheer GUILT he must be feeling? Since I already covered how the warlock would be forever unsatisfied with his form, let us talk about the promise he made with Wooloo, and how him breaking it must be haunting him. Just up and abandoning them, his lifelong partner pokemon must hate him for such a cowardly decision- it should hate him; he had backed out of such an important vow between them, and implied that it was their fault that he was unable to reach his goals. Ultimately, it is his guilt and self-hatred that got him here; whenever he wasn't melting down and reforging himself, he was always fighting for the audience's attention- a whole herd of sheep who constantly demand a spectacular show. It felt right for his first partner pokemon to judge him, after all- he must be condemned for his disloyalty...

Building upon the last point- since Wooloo, his very first pokemon, was also removed from the team, this would translate beautifully into him removing parts of himself to fit that perfect mold, and what better way than to add in sheep elements to his design? The warlock having hooves as dark as obsidian for feet? Broken horns that might be mistaken for parts of his armor? Heck, even the gnarly skeletal system resulting from us combining that of a human's and a sheep's? While I am not too sure about what exactly is going on underneath his helmet, I will just assume that at least its base form resembles a mutilated black sheep's face, because of, well, Hop seeing himself as the black sheep of the family. Combined with his halberd, which I am certain would carry on from his last form to this one, this would bring the idea of a twisted sheep herder of sorts, on top of the existing themes of sacrifice that are already associated with cattle in multiple religions.

Of course, we can't go wrong with referencing him copying Leon's tactics in battle and said worship! This, too, will be a source of pain to his warlock; not only does his armor resemble draconic scales (again, Charizard), but the base of his helmet would bear the shape of Leon's beard. This also ties in to the above point of him trying to reshape his form to that of the champion's in order to achieve prestige and victory by following in his hero's footsteps, but its ultimate purpose in the end is the further erasure his form and himself; all that made Hop 'Hop'. He is constantly slicing away at his being just to fit that mold....

Yes, he also gets to keep the cape; much like his halberd, I can't see why this element of his magical boy form would not get carried over here, as it also assists with establishing the theme and desire to be like a big shot like his brother. Its red coloring would also be of nice contrast to the ashen grey or deep darkness of his armor, although it is tattered and not as magnificent as it used to be in his eyes. The armor already boosts the idea of a hero, but, combined with all of the elements from above and Hop himself going down the slippery slope, this monster right here invokes the idea of a fallen hero; bright-eyed protagonists who have become jaded over the course of their journeys or have decided to outright give up on their ideals and goals- some even opting to join the opposing side of the narrative outright.

I should also mention his inability to look at Leon in the face and how he didn't want negative attention to be drawn towards him in spite of Hop's desire to face off against his brother- some eye trauma, maybe? Would the mementos of Leon in his barrier bring him pain? Or...would the warlock be unable to see past the "glory" of the champion and his dreams? How his mistakes are blinding him? Maybe what he saw was so bright, so brilliant, that it blinded him to everything else; turning his eyes into burning pools of blood resembling molten steel?

Now, we calculate his karmic potential, his emotional volatility, and how they contribute to his warlock's strength.

While I was first working on this post, I thought that maybe he would have cracked after he had lost against the gym leader of Circhester Stadium - Melony -; after all, he must have been devastated, with all these eyes watching him as his final pokemon fell, but then I remembered two key details-

His self-esteem did not get any better by the end of the game's main storyline. In fact, it was at its lowest during postgame- and he even brought a comically large shovel to dig wayyyyy deeper, courtesy of Sordward and Shielbert!

His karmic potential not only stems from him being the champion's little brother, but his role in stopping the second Darkest Day.

So, in a way, that loss would be considered to be more of a catalyst for his despair rather than the straw that broke the camel's back, not unlike Sayaka learning the truth behind the soul gems or Hitomi's confession to Kyosuke. He may have brought Dubwool back to his party, he may have appeared okay-ish after we've defeated him in the semi-finals, he may have helped us save the day, but his internal conflict didn't dissolve just like that- you cannot erase all these years of constant comparisons, long-standing dreams, horrible impostor syndrome, and such an inferiority complex just like that with the snap of one's fingers.

Truth be told, he was supposed to finally give in after said semi-finals, but, out of urgency, he held on just for a little while- for just enough time to assist us with finding Leon and stopping Rose's plans. Now that everything was said and done - now that everything was laid to rest -, the eyes just wouldn't stop staring at him, the whispers didn't cease, and Hop...he was tired- he was oh so tired. Falling on his shaky legs and the harsh thoughts in his heads still not slowing down, Hop had finally closed his eyes and gave out his final farewell...

Also, Sordward and Shielbert will die by my hands for making his self esteem go further down the toilet in postgame, I swear to Allah-

From all that, we can see that not only are legends, prophecies, and destinies HUGE themes for when it comes to the design of his barrier, but that his warlock is gonna be powerful. Now, I don't wanna be redundant by saying that he, too, would be as tough as Walpurgisnacht (we've already done that with Medic, though, after thinking about it, he'd be more comparable to Hyades Daybreak), but saving an entire region is, putting it lightly, a huge feat, and that's without us touching upon his supposed connection with the legendary pokemon, one of Galar's heroes of myth, Zacian. In between being tied to almost a hundred destinies (Madoka) and saving the entirety of France (Tart), putting an end to the apocalypse - The Darkest Day - has got to be up there.

I know this sounds like a sort of repetition on my end, but remember what Homura said back during episode 9; "from here on, for every person (one) has saved, (they) will curse another". So, while Medic got his powers thanks of a combination of his own karma and how he had fused 8 other souls into him, Hop's karma was all his. In short, by this logic, Galar is beyond fucked.

Oh, and, y'know, the whole deal with him being the champion's little brother and Gloria's childhood friend. With all that in mind, bro's warlock is not just stupidly powerful, but outright broken. Not at Ultimate!Kriemhild levels, but that's still not good news in of itself, isn't it?

In the end, whether he had completely given up after he had lost to Melony or during some time between the events of the main story and postgame is up to you and your interpretation of Hop as a character. For the sake of this segment alone, I will just go with the idea that, if he despairs before the climax of the main story, his warlock would be a formidable foe, but not yet a world-ending threat like either Walpurgisnacht or Crépuscule de La Reine.

For comparison's sake (and to paint a clearer picture), I'd say that he could be as powerful as Gisela, if not moreso. From the PSP games, we can see how resilient and tough that witch is - so much so that she is tied to both Mami's and Kyoko's backstories -, so surpassing her strength is still a commendable feat. Much like his depiction in the section above, the warlock would still be capable of cursing many stadiums at once and cause such intense panic in order to take the league challenge down with him by making the contestants to go completely berserk, and, if he so wishes, he could render an entire village into ash.

However, if you guys wouldn't mind, I'll still be running with the idea that, thanks to the player, Bede, Sordward, Shieldbert, his family, and Galar's corrupted celebrity culture, the entire region has yet another apocalyptic event to go through, and only Arceus could save them now- basically what happens during the above despair segment. Good job, everyone! Enjoy listening to Grass Skirt Chase while ya could! /j

Now that we got the basic picture of the warlock down, let's cut to the chase and dive in to his barrier. I've had a lot of fun with this one, so buckle up!

As I already mentioned in my previous Medic post, a witch's labyrinth is stated to be the "mental landscape of the magi before they turned into a witch". From analyzing the barriers of the Holy Quintet and the other existing witches from the original anime, I've already deduced that they must be tied to either core memories, coping mechanisms, or desires-

HOWEVER,

A more simplistic take on all that would be "a place that rubs salt on the magi's/witch's wounds"; makes more sense, no? Candeloro is forever alone in her little tea party, Charlotte is in a silent conversation with another doll- unable to speak about what's on her mind, and, for goodness' sake, Ophelia's barrier is underwater. It is just logical to see that a labyrinth is designed to keep the witch miserable; specifically made to remind them of their own shortcomings, mistakes, broken hopes and dreams, and all that they've lost by the act of contracting with an uncaring trickster like Kyubey.

Unsurprisingly, with this idea in mind, I think the barrier would be a twisted version of a stadium, lit up by raging fire. The audience is present; their eyes ever-staring at you as their yells echo throughout the arena. You just know that your actions and failures will be recorded for future generations to see, mock, and spit at- after all, you are now trapped in a legend that is yet to be completed! Yes, even the style of your surroundings looks like it could fit right in an old storybook or any of the murals present across the region. Not too far away from this labyrinth's center, you are able to find multiple cages housing the victims he had captured; fighters worthy enough for him to test his skills on or put on a spectacle for all the audience to see.

In the middle of the battlefield, in the shadow of a large statue behind him, lies the warlock; broken, battered, burnt, and practically melting, but his duty remains clear as daylight- bound to his punishment and his own selfish desires, it has become his goal to defeat you before the audience. It is his destiny to be bound to this stage, having to pay for the sin of his existence.

The trinkets of Leon - or a silhouette that resembles him - that surrounded him in his own house are also present; after all, they are tied to his motivation, admiration towards Lee, and his wish to become champion. Even until now, the warlock and his familiars take good care of them, though he despises the reflection cast by them.

I should also make a quiiiiiiick note Pokemon Masters EX; you see, upon activating a character's sync move, they are displayed in front of locations present in the canon of Pokemon known as their "mindscapes", and, fellas, upon finding out that said places are significant to each person's story and life one way or another, I've realized that I have stumbled upon a hail Mary for PMMM/Pokemon crossover fanatics out there, myself included. Of course, I wouldn't recommend using these mindscapes alone as a sort of easy way to make barriers, but they do act as nifty, optional blueprints or spices to make those labyrinths look more colorful or representative of these characters.

When it comes to Hop, his mindscape, unsurprisingly, depicts Postwick Town. The location doesn't change when he becomes a Neo Champion, with the only alterations made to the artwork is that it is now nighttime and the presence of small flickers of flames dancing around; burning as brightly as the stars above - one more point towards fire being a persistent theme here -. Perhaps if you've gained enough of an upper hand and luck in battle to grant you some time to look at the ground, you can see that there's specks of white paint that faded away with time; the surface still resembling that of a soccer field's to this day, not unlike the one in his backyard.

To reflect his mental state and emotions of worthlessness and futility prior to him crossing over the point of no return, well, here's where the fun and pain come in-

The halls of the labyrinth are...suffocating; as soon as you enter, you realize that the area is only wide enough for a single person to traverse through. It's so dark, too; only the oil lamps and unmaintained lanterns present provide any form of luminescence, and even then, you have to be careful; one small misstep, and it is you who will be up in flames.

You also get the sinking feeling that you are being watched through the cracks and holes of suffocating halls; a feeling exemplified by the sounds of rain and howling winds just outside. The oil lamps do nothing to alleviate the bone-biting cold around you- the warmth provided is minimal at best. Not too far away, peculiarly enough, you can hear what must sound like...a radio; the details of what is being said is unclear, but the language is actually understandable if you happen to know Arabic. Through static and compressed sounds, you can hear that the voice on the radio is...reciting a nasheed; one chanting about the light of honor, victory, and divine heroism in the face of adversity, with determination being a repeated theme peppered in. No matter which hallway you turn towards, you cannot seem to get any closer to the source of the sound.

As you make your way to the center of the barrier, in spite of the lack of windows present, you decide to be a little brave and take a peak through the torn cloth or any of the cracks on the wall; you find that not only are you not at all far away from the hallway you've already visited, but that you appear to be going down a spiral- but this can't be possible! It is like you've done nothing but repeating the same steps over and over, only for your determination and desires to bring you down...

The winds have gotten louder - clashing with the noise present in the halls -, and your legs feel so tired...

You cannot take it anymore. You finally deduce that, if you want to face off against the warlock right then and there, then you better take a nosedive; break through the halls and descend further and further until you reach the arena, and face off against a furious gladiator- angered and heartbroken by the prospect of you destroying these mementos. How could you?! Such an act is beyond heinous in his eyes! You are no honorable opponent like the rest of them- nay, he is here to strike you down, to restore and clear the champion's name...

To rub salt on his wound a little more, let's add in more references to the people who affected Hop's life- those who have sent him down a spiral, whether consciously or not.

At the end of some of these hallways, you can find shrines that are clearly meant for worship; moreso than the memorabilia that are already present. A large statue rests in the middle of it, surrounded by worn pictures depicting a silhouette of a man and damaged, worn-out books and scrolls. The scent of smoke is present, alongside ashes on the ground; the warlock or one of his familiars must have been near the shrine not too long ago.

Some parts of the halls, namely what items made of organic material like cloth, are clearly damaged- whether caused by burns, cuts, or, most strangely of all, moths. The bothersome nature of these little creatures not only represent Bede tearing apart at his self-worth, but also his reliance on Chairman Rose- such a depiction may symbolize his actions and words' effects on Hop's self-image and life, but it also acts as a subconscious, final "fuck you" to white-haired youth; at the end of the day, Bede is just an unwanted, insignificant insect who gravitates towards any source of light while causing great disaster to others, even at the detriment of his own life.

...but...isn't that what you have cursed yourself into, Hop? Having to prove yourself to someone who is so far away for all eternity? To mimic them? All for a part of their attention and approval- much less a sliver?

They have both locked themselves in a cycle of attempting to appease to someone in their lives at the detriment of their own health...

Upon his defeat, once the crowd cheers at his defeat, the walls will crumble, and the debris will crush and pierce the warlock - whether he was still alive or dead by then - as you finally get a look at the outside world... Rolling hills that span for miles greet your vision as the grey, rainy skies conceal the afternoon sunlight- but it still is brighter than the suffocating arena and its connected halls. Not too far away, you are able to spot a windmill, still going on for what seems like several vicious years, if its poor state was any sign. Ah, if not for the chaos around you, the flickering silhouettes of round sheep in the distance and the smell of grass and rain really makes it feel like you're right back home...back in Postwick...

To end all this on a high note, let's touch upon his witch's kiss/warlock's whisper/evil cutie mark. Thankfully, I got it as soon as I could; one of those old emblems that acted as tickets to a gladiator match depicting a simplified sheep's head! To add some freakiness, the sheep face is stripped to the bone on one half, and glaring right at the person looking at it on the other. A circle of hop flowers surround the disfigured head, and the emblem itself appears to be half-melting.

-Witch Card-

Sayf Al-Muharib. The Gladiator warlock, whose nature is admiration. The light of an old hero's glory - eternally out of his reach - had caused his sight to turn into searing, painful ichor; blinding him to all but his own failures and shortcomings. As penance for the sin of his existence and weakness, the warlock is in a constant state of breaking down, melting, and reforging himself whilst in preparation for his next battle in the hopes of searing away all the flaws in him - all that lead him to his incriminating mistakes - and achieve a perfect form. He is unable to recognize the being beneath his armor anymore, nor could he remember the vision he had prior to his entrancement.

The cries and cheers of his familiars herald another chance for the warlock to prove himself and absolve the legacy of his hero once and for all- but, no matter what, the crowd is never satisfied, and neither will he ever feel proud of himself for the victory. He will never be an inch closer to the light of legend he craves so badly. To emerge from the battlefield victorious, one must not lose sight of their promise in the midst of battle.

(His name is inspired by Sayf bin Omar/سيف بن عمر, a Muslim historian and compiler. It should also be of note that the reliability of Sayf's ahadeeth have been a point of controversy to this day. When translated, the warlock's full name means "The warrior's sword".)

(The fact that his first name literally means "sword" bears two meanings depending on the protagonist- if it's Gloria, then it reflects how he tags along with and respects her though he is seen as incomplete without her presence in the eyes of the rest; while if it's Victor, then it's the clash between their friendly rivalry and his growing respect towards him. Either way, it also symbolizes how the MC stole his spotlight and destiny, and how they broke him and his dream apart throughout their journey.)

(Also, Homura fits the criteria needed to defeat him, let's GOOOOOOO-)

-Familiars-

Batel (plural form: Abatil). The gladiator warlock's minion, whose duty is preservation. A scholar at heart, the warlock analyzes the actions of the hero of legend to learn from them for future endeavors. Prioritizing the opulence and safety of these treasures, these small followers of his are on constant lookout for anything that would posses a danger to these sacred masterpieces while archiving the feats of the champion for future re-readings.

Unfortunately, their master despises the reflection cast on the memorabilia; forever reminding him of what he will never become. He will hang his head down in their presence out of both respect and shame, lest the sight of the failure he had become shatter what was left of his original heart once more.

(Symbolizing Hop's knowledge of battling in general; jokes about type advantages aside, he was always analyzing Lee's battles and was eager to use his knowledge during battles. It's also one of the key reasons as to why he chose to become a professor in the end.)

(Yes, the warlock himself also does his job at chronicling the feats of Leon - even going as far as to imitate them to this day -, but not only are the Batels there to assist him (I mean, they are his familiars), but they also sort of symbolize how...exaggerated Leon's achievements can get, especially in the eyes of others- including Hop's.)

(Its name is a play on words in Arabic; "Batal/بطل" means "Hero", but "Batil/باطل" can either mean "of no good use" or "useless". Leon was the hero, his hero, his ideal- Hop, on the other hand, was just dead weight to him.)

(Another note to add is that Hop's uniform number is 189, which, when read in Japanese, can mean "Hiyaku"; leaping. While the warlock himself would be struggling to walk with these hooves of his and his mutilated form melting and meshing with the armor, I can also see that the Abatil's only way of moving around is through leaping, since they would probably have only one leg to stand on. Ah, I love the smell of symbolism in the morning.)

-

Al-Daja (plural form: Al-Dajij). The gladiator warlock's minion, whose duty is to uphold competition. Ever-so excited for the upcoming battle, the crowd will explode into applauds whenever a new victim enters the stadium and comes face-to-face with their master. Their never-ceasing cheers always demand for more, and, not wanting their wide, unblinking eyes to stare at all his faults and mistakes, the warlock complies.

The warlock will try and not show a sign of degradation to his opponent- he'll hold out until they sing songs of his glory and his story gets passed down from generation to generation. However, these minions will often times become so entranced with the relics and spectacle that they would forget the identity of their master altogether, and even start cheering for the new challenger once the warlock is thrown into a corner.

(Based on Hop's personal drive - to become as glorious and powerful as the unbeatable champion himself -, how the losses have been affecting him, and him not wanting what negative attention he garnered along the way to affect Leon directly. The audience can be quite the chatterboxes; all it takes is one small piece of gossip for everything to go out of control. Its name, ألضجة, means "The Noise".)

(They also symbolize how everyone else already act around him all thanks to his brother's legacy- looking down on him for every little mistake he makes, while each victory earns him another comparison to Leon. He doesn't want to disappoint them- not the crowds, not his friends, not his family, and not himself, so he carries on with his useless endeavor; constantly chasing after a dream that is so far from his reach. The fact that this familiar is prone to forgetting who they are serving exactly is indicative of Hop forgetting himself.)

-Inspirations-

In-canon:

Sacrificing aspects of himself just to come close to that aforementioned ideal; going as far as to remove his lifelong friend, Wooloo, from his team

Trophies and other memorabilia of his brother being found in their home- almost no mementos of Hop being found there

Corviknight, one of the 'mons he gigantamaxes upon the release of the DLCs (the other is his starter pokemon, which I will assume is Scorbunny)

The fact that he is evidently Arab/Muslim-coded, especially in the French translation of the games where his name is Nabil (fun fact, Raihan is also an already-Arab name)

The third episode of Pokemon: Twilight Wings

Dubwool being able to learn a fuck ton of self-destructive moves

The statue of the Hero of Galar in Wyndon (Motostoke in the anime)

Outside Influences:

The Sealed Vessel from Hollow Knight and their theme; actually, wanna bet that he is trapped in a similar manner as they were if we were to assume that his power is equal to Isabeau's? That he has been gathering power from the mass hysteria resulting from his influence over the stadiums?

How sheep, lambs, and goats are associated with sacrifice, slaughter, deceit, and rituals (to tie the aforementioned wooloo/dubwool and self-abandonment points mentioned earlier)

The golden calf

The fact that some gladiators were prisoners and had to fight and put on a spectacle in order to regain their freedom

nana825763's "My house walk-through"

That one segment from Valle Verde part 2 which starts at around the 3:58 mark

The Devil Within by Digital Daggers (not my dumb ass imagining an animatic in which Bede is this warlock's first victim)

Cause of my Death by Itoki Hana

Dolus Vel Pedica, Area Strigae, and Delusio Summa from the Madoka Magica PSP game

The concept of living armor, but with added body horror

-Closing Statements-

Phew! Well, thank GOD this didn't take as much time as Medic's warlock did! (unless if we count my sick days- then yeah, it took just as much) To say that this was a WILD ride would be the understatement of the century!

I wanted to nail the vibe the witches had before we, as the audience, learned the truth about their origins - that he must have been born out of competition and the impostor syndrome that comes with such high-stakes contests -, and the idea that he, Sayf, was vengeful not just towards the leagues and the people who had beaten Hop while he was down, but also towards himself. I am unsure of whether or not I've completely succeeded on that front, but, if you guys have better ideas and/or criticisms, please do let me know! I aim to improve my writing in general and my abilities to break down character motivations and symbolize their actions in more abstract manners.

Being Bede is suffering; his ass is getting haunted on one hand, and Leon is able to smell his fear from a mile away on the other. He's not fucking winning this, lads :'3

...With all that being said, there is one shred of information that I've been withholding until now- the final piece of the puzzle that, once we step back, paints a rather grim image of what would occur if we were to combine the worlds of Pokemon SWSH and PMMM...

Outside the league challenge, the story of SWSH tackles the eldritch origins of Dynamax/Gigantamax; that the very vessels that allowed the people of Galar to utilize it must come from the remains of the invading Pokemon, Eternatus. Its initial awakening from its 17,000 year slumber heralded the event known as the Darkest Day; in which it had absorbed so much of Galar's energy that it caused its form to change and a dark storm to envelope the region, causing the pokemon to dynamax/gigantamax and go berserk. With the emergence of said storm come what is now known as "Galar Particles"; other sources of energy that, after the defeat of this threat, were utilized by humans for generations to come; rebuilding Galar from the ground up to the region we know today.

Now, a theme that both medias apparently share here from this fact alone is "energy". In a sense, you could say that Eternatus itself acts very much like a living grief seed; absorbing "impurities" in order for its true form to "hatch" and release boundless amounts of concentrated energy that can be used in a useful manner later down the line.

So....what gives? Why is Eternatus such a key element to this concept if the focus of this post is Hop? What does that creature beyond out comprehension have to do with the one we currently have in our hands right now?

See, not only does Hop's karmic potential stem from his destiny to stop the second Darkest Day alongside the main character, but his brother was also tasked by Chairman Rose with capturing the beast and delivering it to him; this was planned out in order to solve Galar's energy crisis that was going to unfold in the next several years or so, and, though it was a hard decision, the Chairman believed that now was a better time than never. The future of Galar, in his eyes, relied on him...

Obviously, Rose's entire plan fell flat on its face, so it was up to us, our bestie, and a very gud boi an' gorl (Pokedex entries confirm Zacian is Zamazenta's older sister) to save an entire region's ass from a wicked, unfathomable threat once more, but what if things went a little differently in this timeline? Obviously, one of the heroes who was supposed to assist/had assisted Gloria fell into despair and became the next world-ending threat she's going to have to put down, but what if this wasn't the only deviation from the norm here?

After all, Rose wasn't the only one who had sought out the means to prevent and remedy a sort of entropy issue at any cost necessary...

[stevebabey]

hiiiiiii ruby i LOVE you and i would like to request a ❤️‍🔥 from the hundred different kisses list! 46. a swirling reunion kiss <3 love u xo @familyvideostevie

 hiiiii em <3 i love YOU and i hope u sincerely enjoy whipped as fuck boyfriend stevie <3 he's pathetic and i desire him carnally MWAH @familyvideostevie 1k+

It’s not often you and Steve are apart.

Definitely not for this long. Call it codependency or call it ‘we survived some tumultuous life-changing-but-in-a-bad-way shit together’ but it’s become a habit between the two of you.

You can have a couple nights apart, here and there, of course. But between the nightmares and Steve’s affinity for touch, it’s never too long before you wind up back attached at the hip.

A lifetime ago, before you knew anything about demogorgans or how to wield an axe to save your own skin, you would’ve kept yourself up at night wondering if you were being too clingy. Would’ve consulted gossip magazines and toed the line of flirty and playing hard to get.

Steve leaves no room for doubt; he’d have you around always if he could. It’s shown in his utter delight upon seeing you or in his pouty disappointment every time you have to go.

It just makes it all the worse when you do have to leave — this time in particular, it’s a week away, to visit your grandparents out of state.

Steve thinks a week is entirely too long and tells you so with a grumble, his face tucked away in your neck. You’re both tucked up on your bed but really, he’s supposed to be over to help you pack. Your suitcase sits open on your floor, untouched since Steve’s arrival and subsequent flop on your bed.

“It’s just a week,” You say, aiming to cheer him up, even just a little. Steve’s resounding grumble tells you that it hasn’t worked. In fact, he wrenches his face out and somehow, the crinkle between his brows gets impossibly deeper.

“Just a week? Are you even hearing yourself?”

You don’t mean to smile but your boyfriend is so dramatic that sometimes you can’t help it. You hide it behind a cough and try to school your expression back to seriousness — you are going to seriously miss him.

A week will be hard. But maybe not quite the impossible feat Steve seems to be making it out as. He looks as though you’ve asked him to consider raising a demodog together, all aghast in the face.

“It’ll be over before you know it,” You assure him sweetly. Reaching out, you card a hand through his soft hair, the strands fluttering against your fingers.

Steve sighs, his entire chest deflating a bit, and he wastes no time burying his face back into your neck. You manage to catch a faint mumble of what if i forget what you smell like? and this time, you actually can’t stop yourself from laughing aloud.

This only encourages Steve’s grumbling. He pinches your side, not meanly, and you squeal, batting his hand away. 

“It’s a serious concern!” He insists, wiggling his face out once more to face you with a pout.

You giggle lightly, just moving forward to press a quick peck to his puckered lips. Steve’s lashes flutter, momentarily distracted by the feel of your lips against his. He chases your lips, more disappointed when you don’t let him steal another kiss.

“You aren’t taking my boyfriend concerns seriously,” He whines, his hands setting alight with movement. Your apprehension grows as they near your sides, prime tickle zone, yet you can’t stop your smile.

“Guilty as charged.” You admit with a sheepish smile. His fingers move before you can seize the chance to wriggle away, beginning a relentless attack.

Very little packing gets done that night. You blame Steve when you show up at your grandparents with just two pairs of pants packed.

The week is hell. Mainly, because your grandparents are old-school and had frowned deeply when you had tried to sneak off to call Steve on the first night. It results in an accidental week-long detox from your boyfriend, no phone calls, no nothing.

By night three away, you have to admit, all his grumbling was correct — you desperately miss the sound of his voice, the scent on all his clothes. His boyfriend concerns were well-founded and you find yourself wishing you had stolen a sweater of his before you left.

It also means, by the time the week is done, you’re practically dancing in your seat with anticipation the entire drive home.

So, to see your doorstep empty, not even a glimpse of Steve’s maroon BMW on the drive in, sinks your heart just a bit. You're sure he'd come meet you today. All the excited energy you harbored seems to dial down a bit and suddenly, your suitcase seems even heavier than on your original departure.

You lug it up the stairs, steps heavy, and ignore the faint calls from your parents telling you they’re heading out to grab some takeout for dinner. Your appetite seems to have dwindled in your disappointment. Your only hunger is for a kiss.

It feels as though your heart has crumpled, just a bit, at Steve’s absence. For all his whinging and whining, you would’ve thought he’d be here the moment you returned. Worse, you know he doesn’t have a shift today. Your chest screws up a bit tighter at the knowledge of that.

Nudging open your door with a shoulder, you must look a picture of downtrodden, head hung low, feet dragging along the carpet. With a pathetic sigh, you all but drop your suitcase carelessly and begin to toe off your shoes.

You let out a little shiver at the breeze coming through your window — wait, your window? You didn’t leave your window open...

Head shooting up, you get about one second to notice him before Steve is on you. His arms are around your waist, head burrowing into the crook of your neck and you barely get out a surprised noise before your feet are up and off the floor.

“Steve!” You manage to squeak out, a bewildered noise of happiness. You waste no time in wrapping him back up in a hug, though it’s not as you have much choice with the way he swirls you around, all brazen and wild.

“Baby, baby, baby,” He’s muttering sweetly, barely stopping even when he finally places you back on the ground. His hand is on your face, sweeping along your jaw and he seems ecstatic, body buzzing like a live-wire, “You’re back.”

You nod, a bit overwhelmed by the love. You suddenly feel silly for even considering he wouldn’t be here.

“I’m back.” You affirm, a happy laugh tumbling out.

Steve eyes are a bit misty but you hardly get a moment to coo over him when they dart to your lips and he moves like a man possessed. His lips capture yours, passionate and strong, a kiss he’s been saving up all week. It smooths out every crease in your heart, makes your chest tingle until it feels utterly light inside and you’re positively glowing from love.

He’s breathing hard when he pulls back, staying close enough to press his forehead to yours. He’s flushed a bit in the cheeks and his grin is wide, betraying his pure glee.

“Hi.” He pants, tongue darting out to lick his lips momentarily. “Welcome back.”

You laugh, unable to help yourself, so delirious with happiness; so content with his love. “Might be worth going away if this is the welcoming committee I get.” You say, teasingly.

Steve’s hands on your waist tighten and without missing a beat, his feet begin to tug you both backwards in the direction of the bed. You stumble after him, completely enamored and warm in the face. Your cheeks hurt from smiling.

“You thought that was the welcoming committee? Sweetheart...”

By the time you wander downstairs to nab some dinner, what feels like hours later, your mom fixes you with a particular look. The hickies on your neck are too high up to cover and you’re too happy to notice them, until the look you receive. She just smiles, rolls her eyes teasingly, and pushes the takeout container in your direction.

“Fix him a plate too, and tell your boyfriend I said hi.”

[jannythewriter-pt2]

Collage Feels Pt.3

It’s the week after the party and you and Connie have been texting for a minute, both liking when the other text first, but of course Connie texted first. At this moment, you were getting ready for Connie to come over to your dorm so he could help you with one of your stupid class assignments 😟.

Right now you’re in the shower and you hear your phone buzz…it’s from Connie. “Hey I’ll be there in 5” the text said, you replied with a simple “ok, I’m so excited” and finished your shower. You got out and put on an oversized shirt, your silk black bonnet and some short shorts. You touched up in the mirror, applying one more coat of lipgloss and a spray of strawberry pound cake perfume and just then you heard a Knock at your door. “He’s mf’n here” you said in your head nervously.

You open the door and GAH DAMN Connie was looking so mf’n fine 😫. He was wearing a black under armour compression shirt with gray sweatpants, black cats, an iced out Cuban link chain, and you could see the waist band of his underwear and you could see his print. (And y’all that dick was dickin 😫) You were staring hard and he caught onto this, “you see sum you like ma” he says in a flirtatious tone “nigga get in here” you say in a sarcastic tone.

“Your dorm is nice asf, and it smells like vanilla in here” he says admirably. “Thank you hun, I like keeping a clean space, making sure my shit is mf’n organized cause don’t nobody want a nasty ass bitch” I said with confidence. “Nah cause you’re right about that shit” Connie said laughing as he put his Luis Vitton bag down on the floor. “Sophia what you need help on ma” he said in his deep voice, “I can’t figure out the formula for this equation” I show Connie the problems. “Yeh we’re gonna be here for a mf’n while” Connie says defeated.

It’s been 2 hours and you finally finished your work and you actually get what’s going on. “I should prolly go, ik you got other things you gotta do so imma get out of your hair” Connie said “Nah nigga you ain’t going nowhere. I did not just call you over to help me with my work. We finna order takeout and watch Baddies tf” you said pissed off that this mf was thinking you just wanted him for help and that’s it.

“Deadass, like fr?!” Connie says surprised, “Yes Connie I’m not that typa girl who’s just gon use you for her benefit, know that” this makes Connie smile to himself, he’s never met any girl who doesn’t just want to use him for his smarts, or who doesn’t want to fuck him, your different. “What you wanna eat ma?” Connie ask and you say “Def Chinese, I want orange chicken and white rice” “aight I’ll put the order in” Connie says “I’ll go get my ca-“ your cut off when Connie says “fuck no, sit yo pretty ass down somewhere, I’m paying ma” this makes you feel hot and bothered, this more dominant side of him, the sexy side of him…. “ o-ok” you stutter out shook.

It was a few hours later and y’all were watching baddies, and Connie was being real cuddly, not only that but he was being a lil…..touchy. “Please ma just come here, I wanna hold you, I promise I’ll take you out just come here” in your head your so nervous to make a move, but you a bad bitch so you do your big one. “Fine Constance” you take the blanket off of you and instead of cuddling up to him, you do something unexpected to Connie, you climb on his lap, wrap your arms around his neck, and you sat there, looking into his hazel eyes. You notice a slight pink dusted over his cheeks. “I ain’t even gon lie, your to fine for me to leave you without making you mine” Connie said quietly “you gon treat me right baby?” You said in a serious tone, “I promise ma, I promise” Connie says sincerely “ok pa, I’ll give you a chance”

Yall the next part gon be a lil bit of smutt 😫