#ALSO I’m sick (especially on here) of people saying all of these things like ‘you’re so special’ and I love you and I wanna marry you

[gregmarriage]

thinking of getting a hair cap thingy for when my hair is gross/when i sleep or whatever. ‘oh, just wash your hair.’ i’m fatigued today and i don’t have the energy x

[asocialangel]

pervy boyfriends

bllk boys who would –in my humble opinion– be pretty pervy towards their s/o. 

Shidou, Isagi, Karasu headcanons (low-key nsfw), i tried to be gender neutral but maybe it’s a bit more catered towards afab/fem reader for the Isagi part. 

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Shidou:

Let’s stats by the most obvious of em all 

He is OPENLY and PROUDLY an OFFICIAL PERV

Let’s call it as it is

We haven't seen him talk about lovers canonly yet but i feel like he’d be a monster

This man is ALWAYS making dirty jokes to you

About you mostly 

Oh and public or not, he doesn't care, he if thought of something, you best believe he gon say it, regardless of whether your dad is around. 

He takes a sick pleasure in exposing your kinks to the whole word, especially ones you’ve told him you’re embarrassed about 

He likes it specifically when he says something in a public setting just loud enough so you will never know for sure if people heard him or not

Likes does his team’s goalkeeper know that you like being choked or not ?? You will never be sure ! (And it's not like you're gonna ask him) 

You never really heard it for yourself but you’re quite sure he talks about your sex life to his friends 

Cause multiple times they came up to you and made a joke that was suspiciously real 

“haha Y/N did you have a cat attack your boyfriend’s back ??” “Y/N can you help me out for next week’s anime convention ? I heard you’re quite good at cosplaying”

You even received a leash from a secret santa (you don't have a dog ???)

You’ve tried to ask him about it once, he jokingly said yes, so you never sure he actually meant it 

But you’re scared that if you ask too much he gon make it worse. 

Mind you Shidou is not just an asshole that crosses your boundaries. You had actually told him you were actually kinda into people low key knowing you’re a freak. But you could never say it yourself. So he’s actually nice and thoughtful to his s/o here. 

So yah let's say Shidou is not ashamed to explain to people what his position he likes you in

Also it’s almost obvious atp but he likes dirty talking in uncomfy places cause he knows it takes you very little to get you started, so he’s there getting you horny in the middle of applebees like… 

He likes telling you all the things he’d do to you once you're back home. 

He also often shares the details of how hard he was in the shower this morning thinking about you and how he chose to wait until you guys could do it cause he felt it would be a shame to waste his “precious cum” (his words) anywhere but “your pretty body” (again his words). 

So as I said, certified unashamed pervy boyfriend.

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Isagi:

Now I think this would be an unpopular opinion because everyone and their dad headcanons Isagi as “a sweet caring innocent boyfriend 🥺” and while I agree that is true, he is multifaceted to me. 

To me, he would also be extremely pervy to his s/o, but unbeknownst to them. 

Like the minute you’re turning your back to him, he’s staring fouly at your ass

If you bend down to grab sum, he will not bother to look under your skirt that lifts up or your exposed cleavage. 

But again, he will only do it when he knows you can’t see him. 

He likes watching you doing the most innocent things and adding a double meaning to it in his head

Like you eating a skewer will be something far more dirty in his mind and you whining at the antiseptic on your wound is, in another setting, something way sexier. 

So everytime you see him smile at casual things you do, like getting on your knees to tie your shoelaces, you think wow he loves me so much, but truth is yes he loves you that much, actually way more. 

Isagi will always make the most far fetched double entendres to you, knowing damn well you’re too innocent and maybe head in the clouds to ever get it

So he says it, sees you agree mindlessly, and smiles to himself.

I’m telling you he’s an undercover perv.

Some of his dirty minded friends that have, they too, experience in that field, will sometimes get these double meanings he tells you and chuckle at his reaction to your non reaction. 

Unlike you, THEY know he’s toying with you and tbf they also find it quite cute

Isagi is not the type to put out all your sex life to his friends tho. But sometimes, just sometimes, he will (again) make innuendos about things you’re good at, like doing or like receiving.

But again, when he says it it's with a straight face. 

So his friends are never sure that he actually did mean what he said or if that innuendo was a pure coincidence. 

He just smiles smugly to himself

Also final addition: he knows your weak spots and he plays witit. 

Like he knows you're quite sensitive so he purposefully places the coffee grounds on the top shelf to see you struggle, have you jump around to see it jiggle, watch your shirt lift up and inevitably come to your help by grabbing said item from behind, basically squeezing you between him and the counter, pressing his dick into your ass, knowing damn well that’s enough to have you blush and moan.

But as always, you just think to yourself that he's so nice to help you, and you're so sensitive for reacting to a simple thing. 

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Karasu:

let’s not forget about this pretty boy cause i feel we ALL know he can be so pervy…

To me, this boy is always, ALWAYS touching you 

He alwaysss has a hand on you like at all times TT

Saying hello ? Good morning kiss

He tries to find you in public ? When he sees you he’s gonna make himself known by laying a hand on your hip

He won a match ? You know already he’ll grab your ass when he finds you. 

He does not care about decency or whatever that social construct is: 

If he wants to feel you up, he will. 

Don’t care if his teammates are taunting him, if your friends are here, if a camera is filming

He likes the feeling of your skin on his, knowing you’re real cause he can feel it, feel the friction and the heat 

And he also likes knowing you’ll always be available for him, lending him a kiss whenever he asks for one

He should know by now you're never gonna say no, cause you love him so much, but he’s always looking to be reassured that you are his. 

So with Karasu, it does not stop at hand holding when you're going out

More like, hand holding, stroking your ass, kissing you passionately then placing his hand on your chin, smiling and walking again like normal until five meters further he wants to feel your waist. 

Mind you you tried to tell him this was not socially okay, being so explicit on PDA. His answer ?

Says who ? It’s not like people don't know where to be together. I dont think I'm breaking news to them that we get physical if I kiss you in public. 

“Babe, this is not about the kiss on my cheeks in public. I’m talking about you stretching my shirt collar to look at my cleavage while you’re on half time and a whole literal stadium is looking at you”. 

“What, you want to keep it a secret that I smack you ass naked when I win ?” “Well yeah that's kinda exactly what i'm saying” “Useless to bother hiding, they must know already” 

BUT THEY KNOW CAUSE HE WON’T STOP BEING SO HIGH KEY IN PUBLIC. 

So yeah when I say he’s a perv I mean he won’t bother to wait till behind closed doors. He will whisper in your hearts while grabbing your waist from behind no matter if you are in the middle of ordering coffee. 

At least you’re sue he loves you and won’t mind letting others know

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A/N: yayyy this came up to me as i was falling asleep, Isagi staring relentlessly as your ass the second you turn around and then thought yeah he'd defo not be the only pervy bf in bllk. Hope u like it~~ still have many more things to write.

[fairlyang]

Dos Locos 🕷️

ཐིཋྀ W/C: 1.8K

ཐིཋྀ PAIRING: ex!miguel x latina!reader

ཐིཋྀ TAGS: 18+ smut. toxic af, broken up, pettiness, cheating x2 (never do this), still so toxic, unprotected sex, being insufferable x2, awful humans, creampie

notes: i wrote the beginning on the last day of may i’m so dead😭 kinda back to writing for mig again 😀 july was for qimir oops. also was thinking of insomniac peter not peter b but it doesn’t matter sjsjsjjs

Broken up. Separated. End of. Not together.

You and Miguel both decided to break up because the relationship had gotten so toxic over the past year and you were both growing tired of it. So you ended it mutually but deep down you weren’t over him and he wasn’t over you either. after all it was a three year relationship.

Unfortunately you were both stubborn and were not going to make the first move to get back together or have one final fling. Especially since you found out he was on some petty shit after a month of being broken up and already seeing someone new.

in another world where his brother Gabriel wasn’t taken, he would’ve been the first choice. but you weren’t a homewrecker. famous last words.

So you did the only logical thing you could think of and hit up one of his work friends because you needed to out-petty him.

You ended liking him the tiniest bit and it may not have been so healthy to do it so soon after the breakup but you couldn’t help it.

Peter was just so sweet and funny, and didn’t nag at you over the littlest of things.

It was a surprise when you started officially going out with him two weeks after that. You saw him nearly everyday and he always spoiled you. Maybe a bit of love bombing but it was just so nice. it was a huge difference from the end of your relationship with Miguel.

You didn’t even care when you found out Miguel was also going out with that girl you saw him with two months ago.

After all, you were broken up, right?

imagine knowing damn well you’re both seeing other people, hell just full on taken but after an accidental sighting of each other at a bar you ended up in a hotel room together.

both of you folding like a book as if you weren’t in supposed happy relationships. neither of you could deny your feelings for each other and the chemistry was still there as if it never left.

so it wasn’t much of a surprise when he was on top of you, pounding into you as if the breakup never happened.

but his dirty words would quickly remind you.

“eres tan terca-“ he groans as you roll your eyes. (you’re so stubborn)

you had been denying that you missed him since you entered the room. he wasn’t wrong but you weren’t going to be the first to openly and verbally admit it.

“lo dices como si tu no eres!” you scoff making him grunt. (you say it as if you aren’t!)

“you’re a pain in my ass.” he mutters making you chuckle.

“yet here you are fucking me.” you spat quickly earning yourself an eye roll.

he was already so tired of your shit. it’s like he’s getting reminded of the reasons you broke up in the first place. it was bad enough you were as or even more stubborn than him but for it to not even stop while he was fucking you?

even after three months had passed?

and the fact that he liked it? he knew there was something wrong with him.

so he did what logically made sense in his head and started giving you deeper thrusts while keeping his same brutally fast pace.

you yelped and squirmed around but he held your legs in place. you bit your lip and gave him a glare.

how was it possible for him to be this annoying and still not put you off?

the grip he still has on you made you sick.

“aw estás enojada?” he teases making you let out a groan. (aww are you mad?)

he was just so aggravating. but lord was the bickering so badly missed.

so you decided to change the topic on the argument. just to have a slight upper hand.

“so are we gonna talk about the elephant in the room?” you say breathlessly.

“what the fact that you practically jumped into my arms first chance you got?” he murmurs with a smirk.

you shake your head and roll your eyes, “that is not what happened-“ you start but cut yourself off, “how about the fact that you moved on after a fucking month?”

“what jealous?” he taunts and you groan again.

“you fucking wish.” you say and give him a grin.

“if anything you wished i was jealous.” he says stifling a laugh back.

“oh please.” you scoff and he shrugs before coming down so his face was closer to yours.

your hands were on his biceps, because if there was one thing you missed was having them to grip on to. Peter was rather… scrawny.

and as if reading your mind, he continued. “did you think you’d really make me jealous with Puny Parker?” he laughs, making you groan.

“i wasn’t trying to make anyone jealous.” you quickly defended yourself but he didn’t believe a word.

“yeah okay.” he mumbles and holds back a smile.

he did miss this, so of fucking course he was jealous. he was so fucking pissed when Peter started talking about chasing after a girl he was crushing on only to find out it was you.

he wanted to kill him.

but then he realized he shouldn’t be jealous. you weren’t his anymore and he had Dana. he should be more than happy and not jealous out of his mind but yet you always haunted his thoughts, dreams, hell he nearly moaned out your name when Dana was sucking him off.

he fucking knew Peter was giving you eyes but you always claimed he was just being nice.

nice would be letting you go without any marks on your body. even that was pushing it.

he quickly decided against it and leaned down, letting go of one of your legs to squeeze your left breast before sucking on your nipple. he moaned and pulled slightly back before he flicked his tongue over it,

he then went higher and kissed the top of your breast, everything happening so fast your mind didn’t even process when he started to suck onto your skin.

you gasped and smacked his arm before trying to push him away but he wasn’t budging. now you were getting worried.

sure you knew you’d have to face the music at some point but now with a fucking bright ass mark on your breast you’d have a harder time dragging it out.

“estás loco!!!” you hissed and he finally pulled away, with the biggest shit-eating grin. (you’re crazy!!!)

he decided to finally fall into being honest.

“por ti lo soy. quisite escuchar eso verdad?” he murmured and you feel your face flush. (for you i am. you wanted to hear that right?)

he moaned as you clenched against him, a big indicator that he was right. your body always gave you away and you wouldn’t even be able to lie about it.

“you’ve been dying to hear me admit how badly i missed you, haven’t you?. how i missed your hugs, missed your cooking, your kisses?” he admits and you bit your lip trying to fight the urge to give in.

his hand went up to your cheek, forcibly making you lock eyes with him. as if things couldn’t get worse he just kept going, “wanted to hear how fucking badly i missed your mouth? how fucking much i’ve been needing your pussy?”

his tone hit you and you couldn’t stop the moan from leaving your lips. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he slowed down, focusing on hitting it deeper inside you.

“ahora dime, soy el único loco?” he asks and you look back at him, beyond happy. (now tell me, am i the only crazy one?)

because you knew it and were glad it was mutual, and because you didn’t give in first.

he looked at you expectantly, he knew the truth the whole time but he knew with his admission that yours would follow.

you quickly wrapped you arms around his neck, bringing him closer before whispering, “somos un par de locos.” (we’re a pair of crazy people)

he leaned in and kissed you. you kissed him back immediately and it instantly turned into a heated kiss with his tongue clashing with yours. his hands were all over you and yours moved to scratch at his back because him fucking you again was what you’ve been craving.

he went back to pounding into you like there was no tomorrow and knew he wasn’t going to stop until he came inside you. he was already feeling so close and with the way you squeezed him to perfection like you always did, it wasn’t the tiniest bit surprising.

he pulled away so you could both catch your breath but mostly because he wanted to see your face. he loved looking at you when you came. even more so when you came at the same time.

he leaned his forehead to yours, his eyes all glossy, and his thrusts becoming slopping. you clenched against him and felt your orgasm build up quickly. “missed you so much baby.” you whimpered and he nodded, pieces of his hair falling down.

“you have no idea how much i missed you mami.” he murmured making you moan and hold onto his face as your legs began shaking.

“moaned your name instead of his.” you admitted making him smile.

“nearly did the same.” he chuckled making you laugh.

you were truly so alike. in more ways than you could ever count.

“you’re gonna call him after this and tell him to fuck off.” he muttered and you could only whimper.

“you’re all fucking mine i don’t care.” he purred and grabbed your hand, intertwining it with his.

“toda mía, verdad hermosa?” he murmured and you quickly moan out a yes which was enough to push you both off the edge. (all mine, right beautiful?)

he groaned as he spilled his load inside you, making sure it was as deep as possible before doing slow thrusts to ride out your highs. your legs shook and your cries only drove him more insane.

he kissed your forehead as you brought your legs down and he slowly started to slip out of you. as much as he wants you to keep all his cum, he knew you were about to knock out.

his dick slipped out with a loud plop and his cum oozed out and dripped down to your asshole. he quickly got up and ran to the bathroom, getting a towel before running back to you to clean you up.

you closed your eyes as he made sure every drop came out and he softly cleaned you up before throwing the towel away and getting back into bed.

you quickly got comfortable on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and lifting the blanket over your bodies, so happy to have you back.

[featguler]

kylian relationship headcanon?

can i come over ? ────── just another episode of tenderness.

♡ ────── pairing : kylian mbappé x reader ♡ ────── tags : reader's gender, ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified. ♡ ────── wordcount : 667 ♡ ────── notes : posting this one as a good luck token for the france vs netherlands game!! ily kylian. i try to not just write the happy parts of the relationship but also the hurdles you two might face? i might do more of these since i've got some ideas still :^) (quick disclaimer: since these are headcanons of real people, i'd like to emphasize that if you do not agree with any of the things i write, please kindly click off the post). title is from cool dry place by katy kirby ♡ masterlist.

Kylian Mbappé. Every single person on the Earth knows his name. But you especially—how could you not? When he doesn’t have his eyes on a football game, or his legs on a football field, he has them on you.

Hand on your knee at every single group dinner, behind your neck at every hangout with friends; his skin is always in contact with yours at every single second.

Touchy does not even begin to describe him.

If it were up to him, he would drag you to the changing room and have you sit between his legs—but no, it is not up to him.

Well, mostly because he doesn’t want to be the one that brings the elephant into the room, but also it is so bad that other people are beginning to think of you as a nuisance.

“Mbappé can’t keep his hands off his partner,” a tabloid once wrote, and it only took a few quote retweets from some Parc des Princes employees, heavily agreeing, for it to go viral.

“Sorry,” you once said to a manager, then to a janitor, then to a teammate, Kylian trailing quietly behind you, arms around your waist.

And he gets sooo whiny if you push him away—what’s worse than losing a match? His dramatic ass would say that it’s having you steer away from his touches!

“Kylian,” you whine on the couch, pushing his face away as he tries to kiss you for the hundredth time that hour. “Please, I’m trying to watch a film here.”

“Mhm,” He pouts, arms around your back, hoping that you’d look at him. He looks at you, his chin on your chest before sighing. “You hate me right? Be honest.”

“Please,” you say again, eyes never leaving the television, “you can kiss me all you want the moment the movie ends.”

He tends to avoid. You’ve known him for so long, and you are at the point where you would almost forgive him for the amount of issues that have simmered too long in both of your discontent.

But you don’t do that. No. You see forever with this man, right? So you sit him down and talk.

You’ve got to admit that Kylian has gotten so, so much better in recent years.

He used to flee at every problem—it’s not that he has trouble expressing his emotions, it’s that he has trouble being vulnerable.

“You’re doing this again,” you roll your eyes, arms crossed over your chest. Kylian won’t look you in the eyes. “I’m sick of this.”

“Come on,” Kylian tries reaching a hand over the table to you—well, if he’s going to ignore you, you sure as hell are going to ignore him too. “Look at me, we don’t have to talk about this right now.”

“Right,” you huff out, letting out a sarcastic laugh, “so when are we going to talk about this.”

Kylian stays quiet.

Kylian likes luxurious things; and he likes you. The same thing, really, in his eyes. A priceless watch and your priceless kiss—this is the kind of luxury a man like him can only dream of.

He goes all the way for his show of love, of course! He customises everything he owns with your initials.

Once, he somehow left his passport in the airport, and what got people into talking was not his passport, but your initials embroidered on its leather cover.

The strap of his duffel bag is changed into a shade of your favourite colour, your initials and his sewn together under it—it does not stop there! A gold plated lapel pin with your name on it becomes a staple on every single suit he wears; socks with your initials when cuffed; matching bracelets he only takes off before practice and matches.

He makes sure the camera flashing on his face gets it: he’d pose in a certain angle, throw his scarf over his shoulders in a certain way.

Even when you’re not there, he still loves showing you off!

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Vaggie: “Charlie? Can I have a pick-me-up?”

Charlie: “!! YES!!! OF COURSE ALWAYS!!!”

Charlie: “Uh- where to start, um- Oh oh oh! You have the most AMAZING laugh whenever you to relax enough for it and your voice is INCREDIBLE really easy to get lost listening to- You take skirt wearing to whole other level, you snore SO cutely in your sleep, and even if it’s a little concerning how fast you are with that spear, it’s also really kinda h-”

Vaggie: “I meant literally, babe. Like, thanks for making me blush, but…”

Charlie: “Ohhhh you want UPPIES?”

Vaggie: “Girlfriend-based personal vertical augmentation- yeah. I’d, I’d like uppies. Please.”

Charlie: “One vertical upgrade via your girlfriend coming right UP!” (giggles) (picks up) “Heheh, how’s this?”

Vaggie: (is up picked) “Perfect, sweetie. Now carry me over to Alastor?”

Alastor: “?”

Charlie: “Okay?” (starts walking) “…why…?”

Vaggie: “I wanna punch him in his stupid smiling extremely punchable face.”

Alator: “Oh I AM flattered!”

Vaggie: “Great he’s given implied consent to a beating, let’s go.”

Charlie: “Okay.” (turning around) “We’re not doing that.”

Vaggie: “We don’t have to. I’ll do the punching, all you have to do is go over there and hold me at eye level.”  

Charlie: "Vaggie-"

Alastor: “Get on a level with ME? Rather impossible for you, I’m afraid. You simply lack my, dare I say DEPTH of vision, ha ha! DO take care you don’t suffer from altitude sickness in the attempt through, hmm?”

Vaggie: “Two seconds of being held up to his face, Charlie, that’s all I’m asking.”

Charlie: “Vaggie, that’s still assault on my part. That’s assault with a deadly weapon, even!”

Vaggie: “I’m not armed?”

Charlie: “Are you breathing?”

Vaggie: “Uhh, yeah..?”

Charlie: “If you’re breathing then you’re a threat.”

Vaggie: (grinning) “Aww, Charlie.”

Charlie: “ESPECIALLY to guys like Alastor. No offence, Alastor.”

Alastor: “Compliment accepted!”

Vaggie: (beaming) (didn’t hear him) “You’re just saying that.”

Alastor: (annoyed dial tune) “Ahem. Well, I just said-”

Charlie: “I’m saying it because it’s true, and my ex still instinctively flinches at any HINT of a red hair bow at around chest height.” (switches to cuddling vaggie) “So let’s go be a threat over here instead, okay? Out of Alastor punching range.”

Vaggie: “Still within spear throw.”

Alastor: “Ahh yes, your darling divine toothpick. How quaint!”

Charlie: “Would you really wanna get his blood all over your spear?”

Vaggie: (HEAVY SIGH) “Nnnnno… I guess not.”

Alastor: (honestly insulted) “Rude.”

Charlie: “Didn’t thinks so!” (muttering) “The way you fawn over the stupid thing when it get’s so much as a stupid little smudge from me poking it in it’s stupid perfectly polished face…”

Vaggie: “What?”

Alastor: (evil static) “SHE said-”

Charlie: “Nothing! Petty revenge always ends up biting you in the ass! Anyway.” (grins brightly) “We’ve got better things to do than punch people in the face!”

Vaggie: “Good point.” (touches charlie’s jaw thoughtfully) “...this angle is pretty useful for more than just punching.”

Alastor: “AhaHA! And there is my cue to get off the air!”

Charlie: “Yeah…?”

Vaggie: “Yeah..”

Alastor: “Indeed!”

Charlie: “Like for tongue wrestling~?”

Vaggie: “….”

Alastor: “….”

Alastor: “Oh dear~!

Vaggie: “….”

Vaggie: “What.”

Charlie: “Well if it’s combat you’re after- we COULD have a battle for dominance. Y’know. With our mouths.”

Charlie: (wink)

Vaggie: “….never mind. You can put me down now.”

Alastor: “Oooh~”

Charlie: “!! NO NO WAIT I TAKE IT BACK-”

Vaggie: “Charlie. It’s seared into my brain.”

Alastor: (grinning) “Dreadful! Truly dreadful!”

Charlie: “NOOOO NO NO UN-SEAR IT! UN-SEAR IT FROM THE BRAIN!!!!”

Vaggie: “I don’t feel up for punching anyone either anymore, so don’t worry.”

Charlie: “Would, would punching put you back in the mood!? Vaggie please wait hold on just one sec-”

Charlie: “ALASTOR! CAN YOU COME OVER- NOOO DON’T WALK AWAY, I NEED-”

Charlie: VAGGIE!!! Wait!! I’m sorry! Please wait up! Please I’m sorry I just got SO in the mood and kinda COMPLETELY lost my mind with your talking all low right next to me like that, like when we-”

Alastor: (distantly) “Dear ones~ I am not yet out of hearing range~”

Vaggie: “Good. Suffer.”

Charlie: “I’m suffering IM SUFFERNG! PLEASE!!!” (trailing after girlfriend) “Vaggiiiiieeeee..! S-smooches????”

Vaggie: “Sweetie, I can’t even look at you right now.”

Charlie: “We could do the smooches without looking!!!”

Vaggie: “Even worse. Every time I close my eye I see your tongue suited up in armor, waving around a sword.”

Charlie: (horrified) “No! NO!!! IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE A METAPHOR!”

Vaggie: “Metaphorically speaking, I’ve been scarred.”

Charlie: “Th- then let me kiss it better!”

Vaggie: “Not how it works, babe.”

Charlie: “ARGH!”

Angel Dust: “Hey’a tootes! Guess who’s back from LONG and HARD day of… the fuck is wrong with her?”

Vaggie: “She’s fine.”

Charlie: (clutching vaggie’s arm) (wailing) “FANFIC RUIN LIVES!!!!!”

Angel Dust: “Ain’t that the truth. Porn tip- NEVER try adapting a smut fic for the screen. Choreography’s a nightmare…”

Vaggie: “Wow thanks for the amazing advice that we definitely needed.”

Angel Dust: “Ya welcome.”

Charlie: “We might still need it! Right Vaggie!? We might still be doing stuff like that in future-”

Vaggie: “What we could really use right now is a few drinks. Angel, I’ll spot yours if you can convince Husk to open early.”

Charlie: (slumping over bar) “I hate my life.”

Angel Dust: “That’s cute, Charlie-horse.” (lean down to whisper at vaggie) “Ya sure she hasn’t already had any...?”

Vaggie: “I’m sure-”

Charlie: “-the whole PROBLEM is me NOT GETTING ANY!”

Vaggie: “Annnd now everyone knows it, perfect.”

Angel Dust: “Oh now this is JUICY!”

Charlie: “What everyone? I only told Angel…?”

Vaggie: “Angel can’t keep anything to himself, including himself.”

Angel Dust: “Spittin’ nothin’ but truths tonight, huh Maximum Vaggige? Cherri will love this- I’m gonna need ALL deets! Wait right here and I’ll get Husker fluff to loosen those gossipy tongues right up!!”

Vaggie: “Great. More tongue stuff.”

Charlie: “UGH.”

Vaggie: “….”

Charlie: “…”

Vaggie: “Charlie.”

Charlie: “Meh?”

Vaggie: “I swear, if I could kiss you right now without physically cringing, I would.”

Charlie: “...Vaggie.”

Vaggie: “Yeah?”

Charlie: “What if we’re never able to kiss again?”

Vaggie: “…”

Charlie: “…Vaggie this is the part where you say don’t be silly and reassure me.”

Vaggie: “I know.”

Charlie: “Tell me I’m being silly, Vaggie.”

Vaggie: “Charlie, I… I will always love you, no matter what.”

Charlie: “That’s-”(sitting bolt upright) “THAT’S NOT REASSURING!”

Vaggie: (slumping next to her at the bar) “Where the FUCK is Husk and those drinks.”

[strniohoeee]

Belong To The City

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT THIS IS A 18+ STORY BEYOND THIS POINT

Pairings: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader ⚠️SMUT⚠️

Enemies-ish to lovers, friends-ish to lovers

Synopsis: Chris is such an arrogant asshole to Y/N, but when she snaps back he loses all control and pulls her to the side ⚠️THIS IS SMUT SO LEAVE ME ALONE⚠️

Warnings⚠️: This is straight up smut okay, so any young person PLZ PLZ go away and get off tumblr and go to bed please. Oh god what’s in here?? Manhandling, spit, mean Chris, crazy dirty talk. Mannnn idek this shit is intense, and I’m not even a Chris girl, but I put my whole pussy into this one

Song for the story: Belong To The City-PARTYNEXTDOOR

Right now I was currently standing in the corner of the living room of the triplets house as they had a party going around for completing the tour. It was mainly a celebration party for Chris, but Nick and Matt would never admit to that. However for me it was like my eternal hell. I absolutely hated parties especially ones full of all these LA “influencers” who were only here because they wanted to see who’s pants they could get into first. Same boring game over and over, so I stand in the corner at most parties with a drink in my hand observing everyone else, listening in on conversations and cringing at how embarrassing some of these people were. It brought me great joy, and I could ignore how badly I wanted to claw my way out this sweaty body infested house.

I went to take a sip from my orange solo cup, and noticed it was empty, so I made my way over to the kitchen. In there was Nick, Matt, Tril, Chris, Madi and a few other close friends of ours. Although I love the triplets, and they know how much I hate parties I always am on my best behavior for them!

“Yooo look who decided to join the party” Tril said bumping my shoulder. I just give a slight upturn of my mouth

“Haha so funny….” I replied back rolling my eyes

“Hey! Lighten up! Let loose, this is a celebratory party “ Tril answered back grabbing me by my shoulders

“You’re clearly very drunk, I’m having a great time watching all these people embarrass themselves trying to get into y’all’s pants” I replied back looking at all the drink options. My eyes light up once I see the strawberry Malibu

“Woahhh get into our pants?? Says who” Matt replies looking around curious

I pour a shot and gulp it down, and then another before I go to pour my third shot I look up and answer

“Nearly every single person in here” I replied down my third shot after pouring it

“You should slow down on the shots” when I bring my head down after downing my shot I lock eyes with Chris

“Ouu is the king of parties telling me to slow down on drinking??? Are you okay? Are you feeling sick?” I said laughing along with everybody else

“No I’m just saying you tend to get a little out of hand when you’ve had a little too much Malibu” Chris responded shrugging. To this Nick giggles and has a light bulb moment

“Oh my fucking god like that one time you drank Malibu at that one party and puked on that guys dick” Nick says giggling….he was completely sober, so why in the fuck was he saying such a thing. My eyes pop out of my head

“First of all not true, and second of all you guys always purchase Malibu knowing it’s my favorite and then get upset when I wanna have fun” I said back with an attitude

“Maybe control your liquor intake and you wouldn’t be choking on dicks” Chris retorted back laughing hard with Matt while they leaned on each other for support like it was the funniest shit ever

“I can promise you I’ve never choked on a single dick, and I also promise you I’ve never sucked dick while drunk before…that’s a rookie mistake fuck face” I say back throwing ice cubes at him from my cup

“That’s not how I interpreted it when you were gagging on my dick, but I mean hey” He said back with the most smug smirk I have ever seen. My blood was boiling, my skin was on fire, I was seeing white hot rage.

Back in high school Chris and I got really close one year. It was actually the summer going into senior year, and to say I had a crush on him was an understatement. I really liked the kid, but I knew he’d never see me that way. But for some reason we had a really romantic summer, and at the end of it we decided to be each other's first everything. That being said I had never seen a dick nor touched or sucked one, and he was pretty large, so I did in fact gag a few times. Needless to say after that summer we never spoke about it again, and we actually acted like we never liked one another after that, so there was always this weird tension here and there

“You’re such a fucking dick” Was all I could get out, I was angry but I was hurt mostly. It was something we swore we’d keep to ourselves, and here he goes airing it out to his brothers and our friends, and making me feel embarrassed.

“Chris not fucking cool” Madi said giving him a disgusted look.

“Oh come on it was a harmless joke I swear” He said acting shocked that nobody liked what he said

“You fucking idiot you always take shit too far” Nick said smacking him in the back of his head. I looked over to Chris with no emotions

“No, honestly it’s fine he can’t eat pussy for shit, and when I did let him go down on me he was crying from all the emotions, talking about some “aww you’re wet for me” pfft you wish….hes a fucking joke in bed” I responded giving him a bitchy smile. Everyone’s jaw dropped and Chris just clenched his jaw and scoffed. He pushed himself off the edge of the sink and walked over to me. He grabbed me by my upper arm and yanked me hard towards the direction of his room downstairs. As he was walking me with him harshly like a scolded child all I could hear was laughing and and them going “OUUUU” like I was some school delinquent getting told to step out of class.

Chris firmly walks me down the steps into his room slamming the door shut behind us. All that could be heard now was PARTYNEXTDOOR blasting from upstairs. When he’s a little more into his room he fully throws me down to the floor, and I fall smacking against the wooden floors.

“Ouch you fucking prick, I’m not a fucking ragdoll” I said as I get myself up and try to shake off the embarrassment.

“Yeah? Well you ain’t shit to me after that little stunt you pulled up there” he said towering over me by a few inches.

“Oh me? I’m the bad guy?? Yeah let’s not play victim” I said back to him crossing my arms over my shoulder

“Oh no let’s not! But let's tell the truth shall we” Chris stated back flashing his white smile. I go to cut him off, but he immediately speaks loudly over me.

“Truth is you did choke on my dick because it’s too big and you can’t take it, truth is you were the one crying when I was going down on you, you were fucking trembling and shaking moaning like a little bitch…..fucking thighs shaking like a complete untouched virgin” He said laughing at me now with his arms crossed over his chest

“We can fake orgasms you know” I told him sizing him up

“When your cum was dripping down my chin? Yeah that wasn’t fake mama, and the way you just laid there limp like a fucking used slut” He responded laughing in my face. God why were his words making me hot and bothered? WHEN DID CHRIS BECOME SO FUCKING HOT?

“Fuck you” was all I could manage because I was genuinely getting turned on by the way he was treating me and the memories of him abusing my pussy.

“Yeah you wish” Chris said rolling his eyes

“I’m not 17 anymore I’ve got experience now, I bet you couldn’t make me cum” I told him…well more like challenging him.

“Please I’d have you used and abused by the end of this party babe” he said stepping closer. Fuck this man really got it….

“Is that a bet?” I asked, raising my brow with my arms crossed over my chest. He roughly grabbed my hands smacking them out the way and grabbed me harshly by neck pulling me in for a kiss. Our lips smashed together just tongue and teeth fighting for dominance, it was hot and it was messy.

He turned us and had us back peddling to his bed. Once my shoes hit the edge he pushed me back, as I laid back he pulled his shirt off along with his hat. I decided to take my shirt off as well

“Fuck Chris you’re so hot when you’re not speaking” I said to him as he came lower to continue kissing me

“Could say the same about you too” He said as nudged my head up and started to leave wet kisses all down my neck to my breast. He stopped and lifted back to look at me

“I can’t wait to have you moaning and weeping on my cock” He said with his droopy eyes lazily looking over me. I just grabbed him by his chain and pulled him forward to continue kissing him. He had me lift up so he could remove my bra. Once my bra was off he separated from my mouth to look down at my chest. His eyes shimmered. I will say I had a last minute puberty incident at 17 I was a size C, but now at 21 I’m a size DD.

“Since when did you get boobs” He asked, laughing while kneading them and moaning a little bit. I let out a sigh/whimper at the feeling of his large hands caressing my breasts.

“Don’t be a fucking weirdo” I said back to him rolling my eyes. He just chuckled and came down to take one of my hard nipples into his mouth while kneading the other one. God I was getting so wet just by this interaction alone, and I know he’d make fun of me for it once he got to removing my bottoms.

He continued to massage them as I let out little moans and gasps of breath. I could feel my underwear being completely soaked right now. My pussy was throbbing, and it was aching a painful ache. I so badly needed him to touch me. He was doing this so he can hold it over my head in the future about how wet I was for him. He hovers over my boobs and spits on one of my nipples. A shocked gasp came from my mouth followed by a moan. He does the exact to the opposite breast and uses his flat palms to massage the spit in. My eyebrows were knotted together and my mouth was hung open. He was doing this all so I could beg him to move on from my breast, but I was enjoying this, so that wasn’t happening.

“Next time I’m fucking your tits, and coming all over them, and then leaving you here like a dirty whore covered in my cum” He said to me biting his lip

“Fuck Chris don’t say shit like that” I responded trying to rub my thighs together for some friction. He looked at this and smirked.

“Now let’s get down to what I’m really here to do” after saying that he took my bottoms off leaving me in my underwear. Of course today I have on light orange underwear making my arousal very noticeable.

“Aww she made a mess for me” he said ghosting his thumb over my pussy, my body shudders from the touch

“Chris I don’t fucking care of course I’m wet you were stimulating my breast, now let’s go if you do get me to cum I’m trying to cum tonight not tomorrow” I responded clearly annoyed. He just laughs and nods his head slightly.

He slowly starts to remove my panties, and as he takes them off there’s a very visible string of my arousal connected from my pussy to my underwear. He just looks up at me and smirks, and I throw my head back and moan as the cool air in his room is causing some release to my untouched core.

Chris pulls my legs apart propping them up on the bed as he situates himself in between my legs. Once he’s comfortable he grabs both legs on either arm and spreads my thighs back. I throw my head back at how hot he looks right now.

“You’ve made such a mess, let’s make it more messy” he said and as he finished that sentence he gathered all the spit in his mouth and let it dribble down onto my wet pussy. I let out the most quiet “fuck” of my life as I watch this unravel infront of me.

As soon as he's done with that he immediately goes down and licks from my hole up to my clit. I was propped up on my elbows but my top half goes limp and I fall back moaning

“Holy shit Chris” was all I could say. He’s sucking my clit and licking it lightly grazing his teeth on my clit hit spit and my slick are mixing together creating the most ungodly sound ever. It is only then that he moans against my clit and my thighs shut around his head

“Fuck Chris oh my god….if you keep doing that I’m going to cum on your face” I said said gripping the sheets. He goes down to lick my hole and his pointy nose is banging against my clit in the most delicious way. Allowing me to moan out for him once again slamming my thighs shut around his head.

He detached from my pussy to look at me, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen….his fucked out eyes, his nose,lips and chin covered in my arousal and his spit and his cheeks are all red and rosy. He immediately goes back down to my pussy this time adding his middle finger while sucking my clit. As he’s sucking my clit he’s motioning his middle finger in a come here motion and then moans against my clit. I let out the loudest scream as I could, shaking and cumming all over his mouth and finger. Seeing flashes of white and my body coming off the bed. I had no warning. I was just hit with an intense orgasm. I was breathing heavy as i came down from my high 100% fucked out.

“What’d I say trembling and thighs shaking like a used slut” Chris said as he was removing his pants and I was just there basking in the feeling of the best orgasm I’ve ever had. I look up and see Chris stroking his hard dick while watching me pull myself together

“Chris that was the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had” I stated watching his hand move up and down against his rock hard dick. I was already getting aroused again. He comes closer and takes his right hand swiping it against my pussy collecting my cum and his spit as I shudder from the sensitivity.

He uses that to stroke his dick “Should I fuck you, or should I use your cum as my lube to get off and paint your skin like the dirty slut you are?” he asks, still stroking his cock. All I could do was moan and beg him to fuck me.

Once again he spits on my pussy and on his dick using it as extra lube. He’s looking down as he places the tip at my entrance. We both lock eyes as his dick enters me, both of our mouths dropping and our eyebrows kneading together. Both of us whispering fuck. He slowly starts to go in and out.

“Fuck Chris you gotta move you feel so good I wanna feel you pounding me” I told him he bites his lip and nods starting to pick up the pace

30 seconds later he’s rapidly thrusting into me like there’s no tomorrow rubbing my nipples and then going back to my clit. I’m a moaning bitch right now, and I’m about to cum on his cock I can feel it, so I started clenching his dick.

“Fuck Y/N keep doing that I’m going to fucking cum all over you” He said into my ear with his arms on either side of my head as his chain dangles in my face and his sweat starts to fall on me.

“Chris keep touching my clit I’m going to cum so hard again” my breathing was becoming more rapid and my moans were becoming silent as my mouth would just stay open and my eyes shut. He backed up a little bit so he could look down at me while rubbing my clit.

“Fuck open your eyes I wanna hold eye contact while we cum” he said, and I did what I was told I opened my eyes just as I was about to cum, with one more thrust I came so hard on his dick clenching down and moaning while looking into his eyes. As soon as I came down from my high he pulled out and kept the eye contact while pumping his cock, and soon enough he came all over my lower stomach with his mouth wide open and bitchy whimpering moans spilling out of his mouth.

He collapsed down next to me while we both sat there in silence not moving for 5 minutes. Then Chris got up and got a warm wet rag to wipe me down with. He came back with it and was staring at my lifeless body there still shuddering.

As he’s wiping my stomach down he states “exactly what I said a fucked out used slut” he looks at me chuckling

I turn my head to him “Chris you just let out the most whiniest moan as you came on me” I said as we both laughed.

“You know I didn’t mean for my joke to hurt your feelings I truly thought you were over the feelings for me. I’m not over my feelings for you, but I thought saying that would help me get over it” he said after wiping me down

“Chris I was never over you. I lost my virginity to you, that’s a soul tie and you’ll forever have a special place in my heart” I told him looking at him. He helped me sit up so we can sit face to face

“Good because I have never wanted someone so badly in my life as much as I want you” Chris responded back moving my hair behind my ear. I just smiled at that and looked into his eyes

“Let me take you on a date, and try again. None of that high school shit I want this for real” He said looking into my eyes for an answer

“I’d love that” I said going in to kiss him. As I pulled back we hear a knock at the door

“Are yall done fucking the parties over and we need help cleaning” Nick said from the other side. Chris and I both looked at each other wide eyed laughing because we totally forgot there was a whole house party going on upstairs.

“Uh yeah we’ll be right out” we both said.

The end 😀

Okay I warned yall this is just a little bit of the type of shit I write, and I used to write this at 14 LMFAOOOO. But anyways leave some NICE comments. All young people under 18, that are rude are gonna be blocked cause I can’t do this shit. My mouth is crazy I’m from New York😁🤞🏽

I’m writing a sweet Matt smut next will either be up later tonight or tomorrow 😘🧎🏽‍♀️

[auras-moonstone]

Hello!!! Hru?! I hope your doing great!

I don't know if the requests are open but i know you're a swiftie and 1989 tv just came out and "Slut!" really reminds me of Jack, so could you do a story inspired by it? Just reader being famous (actress/singer, whatever you think fits) and she is being all love-sick by meeting and dating jack? And she even buy that "i love my boyfriend/girlfriend" t-shirts?

I hope you get my request and i love your writing!! You are the best <3 (And what's you favorite vault track?)

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ slut! — jack champion

ᡣ𐭩 word count: 1.9K

ᡣ𐭩 pairing: jack champion x actress!fem!reader

ᡣ𐭩 summary: y/n has to deal with the reputation that has been set on her by the media as she falls in love with jack, her co-star and best friend.

ᡣ𐭩 contents/warnings: mentions of slut-shaming. friends to lovers. instagram posts. fluff.

ᡣ𐭩 author’s note: hiii! <3 thanks for sending this request! when i heard the lyrics “in a world of boys he’s a gentleman” my brain just screamed JACK so i agree with you! and my fav vault tracks are slut and say don’t go <3

ever since y/n started working as an actress, the media has been merciless with her. maybe it was because despite having been in the industry for just a few short months, she was already working with remarkable directors and successful and iconic franchises. media had always had the tendency to bash successful women, and y/n was fully living that experience.

the point was, she didn’t want to give the media more things to trash her for, so she stayed unproblematic and silent. and yet, regardless of all that, they had managed put a reputation on her that was far from the truth.

y/n was kind and had a unique vibe. every co-star spoke highly about her and the media always managed to twist this by painting the picture that she was a “serial co-star dater.” it happened to her with every single movie or show she worked in, and people bought it blindly. the name-calling became part of her every-day life, and she would be lying if she said it didn’t affect her.

she swore she would never make the media be right, and so she set a strict rule—never ever date a co-star or be extra affectionate with them. it was a sad way of living, setting boundaries that were useless because reporters and haters always found a way, but she just wanted to do what she loved. she wanted to be remembered for her good acting and not for who she dated.

but then jack champion walked into the set, with his cringy yet amusing dad jokes and contagious smiles, to turn her world upside down. everything was so natural with him y/n didn’t even notice the way she started ignoring the rules until the scream filming was nearing its end and the thought of not seeing jack as often anymore made y/n’s chest hurt as if her heart was being ripped out.

and then the questions ran through her mind—what should she do? should she act normal, as if realisation hadn’t drawn on her? should she confront jack and ask if there was something more than friendship between them? or should she start putting distance before the feelings got deeper?

what she didn’t count on was that she didn’t need to say anything, jack was not only observant, he also knew her like the words to his favorite songs. he noticed how her head was up in space, how she seemed to be always deep in thoughts, distracted. something was consuming her mind, and it was driving jack insane.

“you’re acting weird. what’s going on?” jack finally asked her, pulling her aside on set. right behind the trailers where no one could bother them.

y/n tensed up. “what? nothing.”

“please, don’t play dumb. if there is someone you can’t fool is me.” jack said firmly. he missed his y/n, the girl who brought him comfort like a cozy warm blanket. “i miss you.”

“i’m here.” she said breathlessly.

“but are you?” he accused her. “something is going on, and it has to do with me.”

“what makes you say that?” y/n asked nervously.

“because you’re especially tense when i’m around.” he said sadly, and it broke y/n’s heart. her mind has been a mess, and she was unconsciously hurting jack. “did i do something wrong? please tell me, we can talk about it.”

y/n shook her head and before she knew it she was breaking down. jack didn’t hesitaste to pull her in. “i’m the problem. i’m sorry.”

“shhh, it’s okay. i’m here. don’t worry about it now, just take a deep breath. we don’t have to talk about it now, i’m here whenever you’re ready.” he spoke softly, rubbing her back slowly, to try and bring some calm.

they both sat on the ground, backs resting against the trailer. jack held y/n’s soft hands tightly, hoping it would give her the comfort she needed. he had never seen her in such state, and he was concerned.

“it’s nothing bad… i guess. it depends.” she said, reading the expression on the boy’s face, which grew more confused by her words. “i realized some things a few days ago, and they have been occupying my mind. i don’t know what to do with this. no matter what i do, it’s going to change things so i might as well be completely honest.”

jack nodded, pressing his lips on the crown of her head. “not going anywhere, y/n/n. no matter what you say, i can promise that.”

“you know the reputation that precedes me, right? i’ve told you about it.” jack frowned but nodded. “because of that, i’ve set this rule, that i wouldn’t let myself be affectionate with my co-stars. and i have sticked to that rule, until you.”

a knot formed on jack’s stomach. “so it’s about that? you want to put some distance?” god, he hated this. he hated to think about not being able to hold her, but he would give it up if it meant he got to keep her around.

“that’s the thing, jack. the reason why i have been acting so unlike me is because i’ve been trying to convince myself that putting distance would be the wise decision. but… if these days have proven anything is that it would be ultimate hell.”

“why didn’t you talk to me?”

“well, to be honest i was thinking what i should do. you just beat me to it because you know me better than anyone else.” she smiled and jack mirrored it. “that’s… that’s not everything i realized though.”

“okay, go on.”

“when the countdown to our last day on set started, i got this horrible feeling on my chest. the first thing that ran through my mind was that we wouldn’t see each other that often anymore and i felt this hole in my chest… it’s more than just missing a friend, jack. i would feel empty because i like you and you’ve become my person.”

jack’s jaw fell open and he was close to pinch himself just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. the times he has dreamt about this scenario… it felt too good to be real.

“but…” she continued. and reality hit the shore, putting an end to his short-lived hope. “i’m scared of what people might say. it’s still hard for me to not let what others think get into my head, and to even think about the hate that might come your way if we dated, makes me sick.” she shook her head and then her eyes widened. “my god, what am i even saying? i just assumed that you liked me back, i didn’t let you talk. god, this is embarrassing i’m so sorry.”

jack cupped her cheeks. “y/n, y/n, stop. breathe.” the girl nodded and closed her eyes until she was breathing normally again. “okay, now listen to me. if you’re not ready for a relationship, that’s fine. but if it’s because you’re scared of the hate comments towards me, let it go. i don’t care about them, i just care about you. okay?”

“yes…”

“good. i want to be your boyfriend, and if you’re not ready because of what the media might think then i have an idea.” y/n’s curious eyes look up to meet his. “i really like you, too, y/n/n. we can date in secret, to see how things go, and whenever you’re ready, we can tell everyone.”

“jack, that’s a lot to ask to you…”

“you aren’t asking me anything. i want to do this. i want to call you mine so bad—in secret, in public, however you want.”

y/n smiled through the tears. “are you sure?”

“one hundred percent, y/n. never been so sure about something.” he reassured her.

y/n couldn’t even recognize herself. two months ago she had been completely against the idea of being in a relationship and now she was utterly and unquestionably love-strucked.

she used to think she was doomed to being lovelorn because of the restrictions she had put in her relationships with other people. and now, there she was in bed, feeling lovesick just because she hadn’t seen her boyfriend in two days.

though those days helped her make the decision. the relationship between them was beautiful, it was a safe place, it was her main source of happiness. jack was everything to her and she was tired of loving him in the dark. he deserved to be loved out loud, in plain sight. she knew she was going to be the one to pay the price, but it was fine.

“you know there’s no rush, right?” jack assured her for the hundredth time. when y/n told him she wanted to make their relationship public, he remained calm (even though he was jumping on the inside) and sat her down to think it through.

y/n smiled widely. how could she not fall for him when in a world of boys he was a gentleman? “i love you, and if they call me a slut… you know, it might be worthy for once.”

“i love you, too.” he pulled her in for a kiss. “okay. let’s do this.”

“okay. i’m just warning you, i truly believe in the slang go big or go home.”

jack eyed her suspiciously. “spill.”

the girl smirked mischievously and went to grab a bag. “i made us special shirts.”

“lord save me.” jack sighed when he took the shirts out of the bag.

“you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.” y/n said

“you know i’m going to, anyways. like i’d ever be able to say no to your pretty face.”

enchantedliv um, just bumped into y/n y/l/n and jack champion 🥺 they were wearing matching shirts that pretty much confirmed their relationship ????

landrysghost what did the shirts say??

enchantesliv “i ❤️ my girlfriend.” and “i ❤️ my boyfriend.” THEY ARE SO CUTE AND WERE SO SWEET😫

user1 are we really surprised? that girl dates everyone she works with.

user2 he’s too good for her.

user3 she’s going to dump her once she meets her next co-star for sure lmaooo

user3 y’all are so jealous lmao. acting bitter just because you want him, that’s her only crime. there has never been any proof that she dated previous co-stars.

liked by jackchampion, misstrinitybliss, baileybass and 878,913 more.

y/n.y/l/n hi everyone! this is more than me saying i’m taken by the most gorgeous and kindest man on the planet. this is also me getting something off my chest. been wanting to for a while, so here we go!

since the beginning of my career i’d told myself to stay unproblematic which i mistook for never fight back or defend myself.

the media always said i dated too many co-stars—even though that’s completely false. i’ve never dated anyone i worked with (until now)—, so i set this stupid rule for myself: try not to be too friendly with my workmates. i was so scared of proving the media’s rumours right that i built this shell around me, never allowing myself to fully connect with people. and then, a couple of months ago i met jack. he made me forget about those limitations i so foolishly put.

i’m done giving anyone the power to hurt me. i’m done letting people think it’s okay to shame a woman for who they date or not.

i’ve been in a dark place for a long time, and i never noticed until my person walked into my life and showed me daylight. i’m doing better than i ever was now. i’m never staying silent again, i’m going to defend myself, my relationship and my boyfriend. always.

that was all for now, thanks for reading.

ps. i love you, jack. all i need is you <3 thanks for being the best boyfriend, best friend and person in the world.

jackchampion so so so proud of you. this brought tears to my eyes not gonna lie. you’re the sweetest ever i love you 💌 thanks for the shirt, by the way, matches my personality!

y/n.y/l/n you’re so silly😭 i love you more and intend to be cheesy forever 🫶🏻💖

jackchampion certainly no complaints from me!

[jaketsparrow]

SOMETHING... | JTK

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f! Reader

Word Count: 10.6K

Summary: When you have to say goodbye to your professor and mentor, a cocky young professor steps in, Jacob Kiskza. Literature used to be your safe place, but now you feel him getting involved in every corner; it doesn’t help that you’re his TA. You deny yourself every opportunity to fall for him until…

A/N: Hi guys :) I know it’s been forever since I’ve put something together and I apologize about that, but this is life. This one has been on my mind since the Grammy U interview and I finally had the idea to put it all together. I hope you enjoy :) 

Playlist

*Also I'm so sorry I lost my tag list so if you want to be tagged here's a new form* Taglist

MINORS DNI

MENTIONS OF/ TW: Sexual content (of course), talks about death/grief, angst, swearing, Dom! Jake, restraints, possible orgasm denial, choking, alcohol use, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, ~some~ degrading, praise kink!, I’m sorry if I missed anything, but, etc, it’s filth. 

The classroom was cold in the early months of the year. You had gotten in the habit of wearing your coat through the 3-hour seminar. You were lucky that this class only ran once a week, but you often had to stay longer than the students, working with the professor for a few hours afterward. He was always elusive. Always eager to get things done as fast as possible; efficient and snappy. 

There was much to admire about him, but his personality often left you rolling your eyes. He always seemed a bit too sure about himself, always being the tough grader, pushing students further than they were willing to go. He cared a lot, especially about the subject matter. He still had that gusto in him to do things right, to be stern. 

He was new to the program; and before this, only about a year into teaching. You studied under his predecessor. She was a kinder old woman who cared deeply for you, like your mother away from home. She taught you everything- and even got you to change majors during your sophomore year. She supplemented your reading supplies, nurtured your abilities, and was always willing to sit in deep conversation with you. Discussing the classics, introducing modern pieces, talking about life, talking about it all. 

Professor Kiszka on the other hand… 

When he took over for Professor Meelo, he took very little time to rip the bandaid off. When you had originally been promised a TA position in the literature department, you were expected to be under your mentor, not a cocky white man. 

You spent weeks crying during winter break after first meeting him. The day you met him didn’t go exactly as you hoped. It was the week of finals when you found out Meelo was sick, and that she was stepping away from teaching. As if finals week wasn’t stressful enough, you had to come to terms with the fact that the woman who taught you everything was going to be leaving this world sooner than you would’ve thought. It was even more of a punch in the gut to walk into your introduction meeting to see… him. 

3 Months Ago

The walk across campus felt heavier than usual. The winter had been harsher than it usually was in early December. The wind whipped across your bare rosy cheeks, causing freezing tears to slowly fall out of the corners of your eyes. Almost like a bad omen, the weather continued to get worse as you sludged your way across the quad. 

The parking lot was nearly a mile away from campus, which was nice during the warmer months; the trees would sway across the crosswalk, blessing the sidewalk with fallen flowers and leaves. The grass was green and lively, a welcome mat onto a wonderful learning home. Between the cracks of the stone walkways, little dandelions would grow. You never understood the people who thought them to be unnecessary weeds. They were bright and yellow lively plants, and when the time of beauty passed, they passed their good wishes onto you. Blowing what once were vibrant petals into the wind. Who knew you’d miss the weeds on your walks?

Instead, now the stones were smeared with remnants of snowy footprints, broken earth that had been cracked through with the force of shovels, and the remnants of the dead earth.

Meelo called you just last week. You begged to go see her in the hospital, but she didn’t want you to worry too much. She agreed to call you every other day, just like your usual coffee arrangements. She loved them just as much as you did. She never had a husband or any children. Her students were her children, her soul was fed enough through changing lives that she didn’t want to take away that love from her students or prevent any child from feeling all of it. You were not the first to bear their soul in her office, but you might be one of the last. 

Meelo begged you to go meet the new professor. You had tried to rescind your TA position, but she blocked you at every chance she got. Even while in hospice she still managed to look out for you…

“Please, sweetheart. I know it’s not easy. But he’s young, he’s smart, I think you’ll have a lot in common with him,” She pleaded through the phone. 

“But he’s not you. I just, I thought… I thought I’d have more time…” Your voice trailed off. 

You tried to hold the phone away from your face, trying not to distress her more with the sounds of your whimpers and tears. 

Her voice started again, “You never know what you will learn from him. You have more time with me, but there comes a time when a teacher must share her students for them to learn more. If we stayed in our echo chamber together my dear I’m afraid you wouldn’t learn everything you need to know. Jacob is going to be a great professor, and I know you will learn a lot from him. His research and analysis work is quite extensive. The school and I hired him for a reason. Please. Just give it a try. For me.”

“Just for you.” 

And here you were trudging through, feeling every bone in your body telling you to turn around, to go home. But you were doing this not for you, you reminded yourself. For Meelo. She was right, you latched on to her from your early years in college and favored her over all of your other professors. They were kind and nice as well, but it didn’t matter to you in the end, if they weren’t Meelo, they were never going to compare. 

The building seemed colder than usual. The large glass windows were covered by their shades; no one wanted to see the gross state of life outside of the classroom. That’s hardly motivating to any student, the fluorescents would give more life than the grey state of the weather. 

You pull the door open, walk through the entryway, and follow your usual path down the hallway to Meelo’s room. 

The thing about old colleges, everywhere you turn is a little piece of history. Each room has housed many professors and many students. The building had life, had ghosts of its own hidden in each brick, in each stone. You felt the comfort of this presence moving through the hallway. 

You stop right before Meelo’s room, catching your breath before you enter. Trying to have an open mind. Kiszka could be something, or he could just be another man throwing words at you. Not that all men were the same, but a majority of the male professors here were lackluster, favoring the male students and the athletes who needed the better grades to stay in the school. And if they favored the women… You always felt a cold chill thinking about that. Thinking about why…

One last deep breath before you enter the classroom. You grab tight onto the handle of your tote bag and strut confidently into the room. 

It was empty. 

The beautiful artwork and posters that Meelo had filling the room were stripped. Revealing the natural state of the architecture. It was beautiful in its own way but didn’t feel like the educational home you once felt so blessed to be in. The desks were all shoved to one side of the classroom. The previous welcoming U-shape was demolished, instead providing a cluttered destruction of Meelo’s work. 

You stood awestruck in the shape of the room. There was no time wasted between Meelo leaving and Kiszka starting to make his mark on the room. The bookshelves that used to be filled in the back of the room had been emptied and their contents sat on the floor in boxes.

You walk over to the boxes, kneeling to gently sift through the carelessly placed books. This was Meelo’s library that she had collected for the classroom. Take a book, leave a book, borrow a book, bring it back. You loved visiting this wall every week, seeing what books your peers were interested in, and which books made their way into the library. Some new, and some returning after long months away. 

Sitting on top of the box was the classic “Brave New World”. Aldous Huxley. 1932. Not an original copy, but a new binding. It was like the universe was sending you signs. This would be a brave new world. A world where you might have to come to terms with the fact that Meelo would not be in your life forever.  A world where you might have to figure out everything with a new mentor. A world where you thought you would have years to work on your pieces with a woman who understood you, but now you would turn over your heartfelt pieces to a man. One who may not understand you the same as someone else does.

“A favorite of yours?” A voice perks up from the doorway. 

You turn to see him. Your eyes work your way up his figure. He’s wearing Chelsea boots, black thick linen pants, a white loose shirt with a black vest, and a dress coat over it. His chestnut hair lays over the shoulders of the coat, and his eyes are covered by circular gold-rimmed sunglasses. He oozes mystery. His arms crossed, surveying your crouched body by the boxes. You hate to admit it, but he may be one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen. 

You hold up the book towards him, displaying the cover. 

“Not particularly. I don’t like thinking about the takeover of technology. It feels too real right now.” You respond. 

He wanders over to you, taking his time, each step creating the most annoying echo in the emptied classroom. He reaches his hand out to yours, asking silently for the book. You hand it over to him and stand to match his level. 

He passes the book between his hands, admiring the binds, “Ah, yes, but perhaps something can be learned from the book if more understood its warning… if only more read it…”

“If only…” You let the conversation trail off. Your eyes wander back to the pile of desks on the opposite wall. You feel yourself zoning out, focused only on the change of the room, not on the man in front of you. 

“-Your favorite?” He asks. 

You snap back to the conversation, trying to recall the beginning of his question, “I’m sorry? 

“If this is not your favorite, can I ask which is?” He waves you to walk with him. 

You follow him into the office at the back of the classroom. He sits in Meelo’s chair, and you sit in the chair that had held you so many times. You wouldn’t be surprised if the cushion had a you-shaped imprint in it at this point. 

He asks a third time, “You don’t seem like the Jane Eyre or Louisa May student, so what is it?” 

You let your bag fall off your shoulder and you try to sit up in the chair, asserting some sort of professionalism. Your answer will hold some sort of judgment for him. Although you want to be offended by his comment about the female author’s classics, he’s right. They were never your favorite. 

“Tess of the D’Urbervilles. Meelo gave it to me as my first assignment.” You respond, confident in your answer. 

He nods in approval, “Lovely choice, very telling. Meelo said you were very bright–one for the classics.” 

He leans back in his chair, stroking his chin. His hand reaches up to the gold-rims and pulls them off, clattering onto the desk. He pulls himself towards the desk, resting his elbows on the table. 

“Are you going to ask me mine?” He asks, almost presumptuously. 

You fight back the urge to roll your eyes. Of course, he has to find a way to be important here. You adjust yourself in your seat, crossing your arms in the process. 

“If you want me to know, why don’t you just say it?” You retort. 

He chuckles to himself, “Lord of the Rings.” 

Your mouth falls so far open that you’re afraid a fly might buzz its way in. You lift your hand to your mouth and try to hide your disapproval.

“That’s a classic for sure.” You reply, “Not one I would’ve expected from a college literature professor, but a classic nonetheless.”

He pushes himself off the desk, running his hands through his long locks before they make their way onto the arms of the seat. 

“You don’t approve?” He scoffs. 

“I didn’t say that, I just said it’s not one that I would expect.” 

“I believe there is a difference between a personal and professional favorite. A favorite you could read over and over again, and you could enjoy without having to think too much about what it all means. it’s an adventure, its heroes and legends, it’s a call for relaxation and enjoyment. I’d rather have my favorite be a well-known classic than a deep thought-provoking story about purity.”

You fight every urge in you to slap the man sitting before you for disgracing such a beautiful novel. But you think about Meelo. You think about stepping outside of the echo chamber. 

“I think we may have different opinions on favorites, Professor Kiszka.” You say shortly. 

You feel the tension grow between you already. This would be a difficult semester. Even more difficult because as you felt your dislike for him grow, you couldn’t stop staring at the beautiful man sitting in front of you. His brown eyes stared deep into you, trying to assess his new assistant. You tried not to let him in too far. You were not fawning for him, at least you weren’t trying to. You wanted to fight off the growing warmth crying to spread through you. It was like seeing a handsome stranger in the bar; you knew the danger, but almost didn’t want to let yourself protect your heart. 

He was by far the youngest professor here, and the most eligible. No ring was on his finger. 

“Please, call me Jacob.” 

You stood up from your seat, throwing your bag over your shoulder. You try to compose yourself enough not to let any distaste escape from your lips. 

“Sorry, Professor Kiszka, I have finals I need to finish, it was a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to working with you in January. If you need anything from me before then, I believe the dean gave you my information.”

You reach your hand out awkwardly, trying to invite a handshake. He cautiously reaches his hand back, pulling you into a firm, but still gentle handshake. 

His eyes meet yours. The deep brown staring into you. Although you should have the power from your standing position, you knew he held all the cards from his seat. The handshake lingered longer than you had expected, both of you locked deep into staring each other down. He finally releases his hand. 

“It was a pleasure.” You start to leave the office, but he makes one last remark, “Oh, one last thing…” 

You turn to face him, “Yes professor?”

 He reaches into the desk and pulls out a cloth-bound book, handing it to you. You slowly return to the desk, taking the book from his hand—the Lord of the Rings. 

“Try it for me? You do have a whole winter break…”

You rub your hands over the cover, smiling at his request. You place the book back in his hand.

“I used to read it as a child. No need to give it a try when you’ve read it four times already.” You smile at him. 

Even if it wasn’t your favorite, didn’t mean it wasn’t a favorite. 

Present

In some ways, your relationship with him felt like a love-lost marriage. Just moving through the motions. You sat in on the classes and took note of who engaged, and who didn’t. You graded assignments, tests, and papers, with him always double-checking and doubting your work. You didn’t sit in on long conversations with him like Meelo. Perhaps some of that was your fault, always quick to get to work. He adjusted to you quickly, understanding how you needed to work, and letting you grieve. 

Meelo passed quickly into the semester. You cried once in front of him when the news broke. You nearly snapped his head off when he asked if he could help you. From that moment on he took on this cold persona, but you don’t blame him at all. You knew in your heart that you would not have the same connection with him as Meelo, so it was easier to never try. 

Through everything, your work never faltered, and your school work remained the priority. Perhaps it was a way to hide through all the pain but the calculated steps it took to grade provided a soothing rhythm amongst the distress. 

You never failed to notice all the times you caught him catching glances at you. You were silly to think that it meant anything more than just a quick look, but still maybe somewhere in your heart, you had hoped that maybe he was thinking of you more than his assistant. For weeks you watched him stroll into class, always wearing a disheveled but somehow put-together outfit. You loved seeing how he would piece together different clothes from his collection. Never repeating an exact outfit, but always finding new ways to repurpose the same items. 

One day he walked in with a new addition to his look, a cluster of pendants on a necklace. They looked older, more worn in than any new silver. You asked him about it briefly, trying not to engage in a further conversation. 

“They’re coins, Spanish coins, designed after ones from the 1600s. I think the jeweler lied to me when he said they were originals, but they still look okay… Do you think so? 

“You look like a pirate.” You responded. 

A sexy pirate. You shoved that thought deep into the back of your mind. Holding on to it, because you didn’t want to forget how good he looked. 

His Thursday classes were always one of the better ones. This was one that you had to take yourself for your graduate program. There was no TA’ing involved as that would be a huge conflict of interest if you got to grade your papers. You chose to sit in the back corner of the class by the window, in hopes that when spring rolls around you could watch the foliage return. The unfortunate thing about this choice was the waiting. February was colder than you had expected and the windows provided no warmth. 

When you were TA’ing you got to sit at the edge of the office and the classroom. Kiszka brought a space heater for you to place at the doorway. He joked he didn’t need his assistant ‘freezing to death’, because then ‘who would grade the papers’.

You tried your hardest to not let him favor you, but you knew he was someone who would be kind no matter how much you asked him to stop. He would leave books on the edge of his desk for you to read and when you tried to return them he declined and told you he already had a copy in his collection. You doubted that and always protested in fear that you thought you might lead him on. But in the end, it was always you walking out with a new book in your bag. 

He was trying his hardest to get along with you. Some days it was easier and you would entertain his questions, but other days it was easier to be quick and move along. This relationship was not going to be a fairytale. You had already found your soulmate once, and you lost her. In your mind, there was no more room in your heart to let someone in. And why should you prepare space for someone if you truly don’t know if they want to be there? 

This class although interesting became boring as the weeks went on. The class had fallen into a seasonal depression of sorts. Many like you had expected to have Meelo for the semester when you had booked your classes, so when Kiszka showed up and tried to shake things up… It wasn’t easy. He was skilled and smart, sure… But not the same. He craved involvement and wanted the class to join in with him, but often would push people further than they were willing to go. A room full of mid-20-year-olds was truly a space of burnout. Many of these students had already passed four, sometimes five years of school before they stepped into this class. They no longer have that lively interest in reading and analyzing literature but want to create their own.

“-And what was this author trying to convey through his use of metaphors?...” He asked from his commanding space at the front of the class, “No one?... No one picked up on this…? Or are you too scared to be wrong?”

Your attempts at fighting off eye-rolls also subsided the longer this course went on, and this roll came on hard. You’ve heard this line countless times through multiple classes. He wasn’t wrong, but he could at least find different ways to say the statement. 

“Y/N? Care to enlighten everyone?” He calls to you, in need of saving the class who had lost attention nearly an hour ago. 

“Sure. It’s a metaphor for how women are treated in society.” You answer.

He grits his teeth and sighs, “Not quite, but you’re close…” 

You lift yourself from your slump, “No, that’s right. She is clearly trying to convey the expectations of women in society and how we are treated. As a female author, she leaves these metaphors to be very simple for female readers to understand. For males, it’s harder to grasp that the severity of these situations could imply the treatment of women, but that’s what she’s trying to explain.”

He clasps his hands together giving them a brief shake, “That class, that is how you analyze. Literature can be read in different ways by different readers. The author may have a clear intention of what they are trying to write, but others may be able to relate it to other aspects of their life. I have my own interpretation, and you all may have others. That is how this should be working. There is nothing wrong, with how you analyze, just that you have the knowledge to back it up…”

Every time you tried to make him out to be the bad guy, he ended up being in the right. You hated how smart he was. You hated how much you wanted to watch him while he stood up there. You hated how he wasn’t her. But you knew you didn’t want him to leave. 

“So with that,” He continues, “Finish up the last few chapters and please come prepared with statements next week about your findings. I want you to dig deep; feel the author. I’ll see you next week.” 

The class starts their shuffle for the door, while you meander to your usual spot at the doorway of the office. The next class wouldn’t be in for 20 minutes, but you would at least have time to warm up. 

You click on the heater and walk over to Kiszka’s rolling desk chair. You take your coat off and rest it over the seat, pushing it over to the door. Kiszka finds his seat at the front of the classroom, pulling out his book of the week. He usually would try to follow you, asking you what you were reading, then the next day showing up to class with an identical copy. It was annoying and endearing how much he wanted to learn from you. You wondered if it upset him that you weren’t as keen on learning from him. 

He confided in you that Meelo was an idol of his as well, and although he didn’t get to learn from her, he was going to try to through you. 

You pull your copy of Anna Karenina from your bag and join him. Your chapters ahead of him, but you enjoy being one step in front of him. 

You peep up from the back of the room, “I didn’t ask, but please tell me this isn’t your first time reading this.” 

He lifts his head from the book slightly, eyes still skimming the page, “Third.” 

You sigh in relief. That would’ve been embarrassing; for him. 

You return to the book. You’re finding it harder to dive in today than usual, something is different… You see out of the corner of your eye that Kiszka has put down the book altogether, and you can sense him staring. This lasts a few moments, but you try to remain focused on the words, but catching yourself having to re-read the paragraphs; not processing the sentences you’ve already read.

A minute goes by and he hasn’t returned to his pages. Instead, you hear the squeak of his chair rolling over to his computer. A few clicks and a frenzy of taps on the keyboard. 

“Hey.” He prods. 

You look up again from the book. He peers at you over the edge of his computer and then closes it so he can see you better. He grasps his jaw lightly, stroking it in his hands. 

“Yes?” You asked, trying not to seem annoyed by the interruption. 

“Let’s go over your manuscript. I want to see it.” He continues. 

No. It’s not time yet. You’ve been meticulously editing it for months now. He wasn’t supposed to read it until midterms, you were supposed to have more time…

You drop the book into your lap, “It’s not ready…” You close the book, “Also we have class in twenty minutes, you won’t be able to read it all by then.” 

He stands up from his seat, straightening his vest out, “I canceled class. Pull it out.” 

Two Hours Later

Some time had passed. You both sat in his office now. Him at… his… desk, and you still positioned by the heater at the door. At this point you were warm enough to finally take your sweater off, stripping down to a simple black t-shirt. You saw him staring through the pages when you pulled the sweater off. If he had looked any harder you think he might burn a hole through the book.

The office was silent except for the occasional click and clack of the heater, and the flickering of the candle on his desk. He flipped through the lightly bound pages while you continued through your reading. Every couple of minutes you could hear the stroke of his red pen hit the pages. The words or corrections will wait for you later. You could sit and scoff at them later in your apartment. The man said his favorite book was Lord of the Rings, how could you possibly trust his editorial judgment?

You had made it about a hundred or so pages through your book, which was slower than you would’ve liked. You still couldn’t breach the interferences. You thought the silence would help, but hearing his hums, his pen strokes, the occasional sip of scotch… It was all a distraction. 

You couldn’t stop looking up from the book to watch him slyly admire your work. You knew your writing was good; Meelo had seen the early stages of it all. She heard the direction and loved every word… A complete sadness rushed over you thinking of how she would never see the final product. 

Kiszka would adjust himself every few minutes; switching positions in his seat. You wanted to trust yourself enough not to look every time he shifted his hips, but those linen pants he loved so much left little to wonder about him. You had a closeness to him that you didn’t want to admit. As many differences as there were between you, there were just as many similarities. He was an outsider here; you could see that clearly. The other professors didn’t trust him because of his age- the students tried to walk all over him because of that too. 

Even though you wanted to hate how pretentious he seemed, deep down you knew it was a facade to seem more studious to others. You saw the real him in glimpses. The kindness he offered to you that many others most likely wouldn’t have. Your youth and love for literature matched his perfectly, although you couldn’t always find the way to express it correctly. Your loyalty to Meelo prevented that at every chance. 

Letting him read this manuscript was a big step that you didn’t fully even realize until he had reached the halfway point. You wanted to go and rip the pages out of his hand, throw them out the window, prevent him from seeing you too deeply… But something inside you needed to know what he thought of it. 

Frustrated by your lack of progress, you lowered the book into your lap. You took this time to look around the room. It had changed so much since you had seen it back in December. Kiszka’s library had taken up the room, along with his record collection. When you would come by early in the morning to drop off the graded work, you would hear him playing some of it. Blues, rock, the classics. You never disturbed him during these times, it felt too intimate to interrupt. Instead, you would place the binder of essays on his classroom desk and scurry away before he could come to say hello. 

You place your bookmark into the page opening. You calmly stand and place the book where you once sat. Quietly, you make your way over to his collection.  

You see him peer up through the pages. Curious about your movements, watching you silently behind the manuscript. 

You lower yourself to the floor, sifting through the jackets of the vinyls. Alphabetical. Of course. You make your way quickly through the a’s and land through the b’s. As cliche as it seems, you truly love Abbey Road, and of course, there it is front and center with the other Beatles albums. You pull it out from the shelf, removing the jacket carefully from the sleeve. You lift the vinyl out and place it on the record player. It’s a modern one, which feels very out of character for Kiszka. He always seemed like the type to randomly have every item of his be nothing newer than 20 years old. 

You press play and lower the needle onto the music. 

Come Together plays softly through the speakers. You turn to look back at him, seeing if there is any protest. Instead, he has the red pen out, slashing across the paper. You grit your teeth and try not to engage. You return to his collection, running your fingers along the remainder of the vinyl. The plastic tickles through your fingers, creating a click, click sound as each jacket releases from your hold. 

Although you did want Kiszka to keep reading, you felt it was necessary to distract him, to try and persuade him to step away…

You continue from the vinyl collection, traipsing through the room. It’s like a library out of a movie, truly. You admired his office deeply and loved to gaze at it while he was lecturing. Sometimes when he was deep in his philosophy of literature speeches, you would lean back in the chair and try to read the book titles from afar. Your eyesight was good, but not good enough to make out the exact names of all of them. You never dared to peruse like this before, but this moment presented the perfect opportunity. 

You were his captive for the remainder of his reading. Well… In all reality, you didn’t have to be here, but you didn’t dare leave that manuscript alone. It had been stored with you in your tote for the past month. You tried to take chunks of edits at a time, working through it yourself when you had time but didn’t want to share it with anyone until you felt that it was complete. 

You tried to fight Kiszka off, but the notion of him canceling class meant that he found taking the time to do this very important… 

The books that were displayed on these shelves were not the type of books that you would find at your local bookstore. They were older, worn in, some of them originals, even some you haven’t read yet. Maybe he did have some things that he could show you…

 You make your way to the last set of bookshelves, rounding the back corner of the office. The last edge of the wall had his makeshift bar. 

The liquor was all dark, amber-colored. Very manly, you thought to yourself. Bottles of whiskey and scotch lined the makeshift bar. Jack Daniels, Sazerac Rye, Macallan Double Cask… You recognized some of the labels. 

Kiszka crept up behind you, “If you wanted a glass, you could’ve asked.” 

He reaches down below you to fetch a rocks glass from the bar. He grabs the Macallan Double Cask and pours a finger for you. The alcohol flows effortlessly out of the bottle, barely splashing into the glass.  He hands the glass to you, your hand brushing his. His touch is warm… Kind. He takes his other hand and grabs your shoulder, in a comforting way. You want to seem completely normal, but feel your cheeks getting rosy from the touch. You suck on your bottom lip and try to hide your face. 

You take a large swig of the scotch, trying to be mindful of not wasting such a good drink. He looks at you, shocked at your ability to take it so easily. 

“Wow. Good.” Is the only words he can mutter. 

You smile meekly. The praise makes you feel undoubtedly shyer than you had just before. 

“Are these originals?” You ask, pointing to the corner section of his library, “I couldn’t tell, and didn’t want to touch them if they were.”

“Many of them, yes,” He responds, “I trust that you would be gentle with them, please, which one were you curious about?” 

You make your way over to the shelf, placing your drink down on the small table near the corner. You reach up to fold out the red bound book. Its title was completely faded from the binding, but we’re curious as to which one it was. He follows closely behind you, close enough to almost be on you. 

He laughs, “Funny you should grab that..” 

You open the cover to find Lord of the Rings printed in big black letters. 

“Oh, dear god.” You sigh. 

“It is an original if that makes you feel any better about it. I know you hate this book, but still-”

“No, no,” You protest, “I never said I hated it, I just said it wasn’t my favorite. Remember we have different opinions on that professor.” 

He scoffs and takes the book from your hand. Rubbing the cloth binding with his thumbs.

“Want to know something funny?” He questions. 

You did. You really did. You wanted the connection at this moment… For whatever cosmic reason it finally felt okay to banter with him. You nod your head, approving him to continue. 

“I saw the movies before I read the books.” He laughs, “My brothers and I loved it, we were practically obsessed, but I was younger then and a stupid boy who didn’t read like I do now. Not the fairytale way most people find their favorite but it reminds me of childhood…”

You wanted to laugh, you wanted to make fun of him for it. But you knew that this was a special moment for him. A look into his past, a presentation for more. He places the book carefully back on the shelf, tucking it back into its spot. 

“Well, I guess that makes more sense now. But, as a graduate professor, you ought to just say you like the pretentious shit. No one’s going to take you seriously.” 

He turns from the shelf, “Who said I was worried about that? If I lie then I am a fraud. I don’t care if anyone says that.” 

Oh fuck. His confidence is so intoxicating. He’s right. Why should he care? 

“I just- I meant… I thought that the other professors-” 

“You thought that they don’t take me seriously? Right. They don’t. In schools like this, you have to earn respect. I’m not an alumnus, I didn’t go to Harvard, but I do a damn good job at what I do. As much as you may protest some of my teaching, I know what I’m doing.”

He breezes past you and strolls back over to the bar to pour himself another drink. You reach back for yours and hold it between your hands, trying to collect yourself. You hope that you didn’t hurt him. 

“Did I offend you?” You ask.

“‘Course not,” He takes a swig, “I just wish you would realize that it doesn’t matter what standards others hold you to. You are not someone else. You are you.” 

“I know that.” You respond dryly. Your answer didn’t sound as confident as you wanted it to be. It came out unsure and desperate. 

“Then why has your whole academic career been based on your relationship with one woman? Why must everything you do be for her?...” 

You stand there silently. Completely struck with emotions. Anger, sadness, discouragement.

“She… She made me who I am,” You pipe, “She’s the reason I am in this program.” 

He strolls back over to you, locking your eyes with his. It’s intimidating, this look he has on his face. He’s studying you, seeing how lost you feel. Truly for the first time you couldn’t even try to put up any walls. He had broken you down. 

He places his hand on your shoulder again, “Can I show you something?” He asks. 

Before you have time to even object to him, his hand moves from your shoulder to your waist, guiding you back towards his desk. You feel butterflies growing inside you. 

No. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He is your advisor. He is not someone you should feel this way about. He’s trying to help you, he’s not interested in you. 

The vinyl finishes its song and moves on to Something. He guides you into his seat. You place the glass down on the desk and wipe the condensation from your hands onto your thighs. He reaches over the desk and twirls the manuscript back in front of you. The pages sit open about two-thirds of the way through. He stands behind you, practically leaning on your back. His chest rests against your shoulder, pointing at the beginning of the page. 

“See this paragraph here?” He questions. 

You strain so hard to not melt at his touch. His hair is grazing your cheek. It smells wonderful, but you can’t admit that. He has this gentle but clean musk about him. He smells like a perfectly cared-for bookstore. A soft smell of tobacco and oak. The chains with pendants are draping over his neck, sparkling in the moonlight of the night, softly clanking together with his movement 

You need to focus. 

You respond, afraid that you waited too long, “Yes?” Your voice wavers, the lack of confidence creeping back through, “Is there something wrong with it?” 

He turns to face you, “Yes. I have a big problem with it.” 

You feel your heart sink. What could be wrong with it? The back half of the book is the best part, it is the part you feel most confident with. You feel confused. All of those walls and confidence you felt once in his presence were lost. 

“What…? What problem?” 

You look back at the pages, disregarding his closeness to you, pulling the bundle of paper back towards you, and flipping through to the previous pages. He puts his hand on yours, stopping you from searching. He lowers himself next to the seat, squatting to be at your eye level. His thumb wanders back and forth over your wrist. 

He smiles a crooked and cunning smile, “It’s some of the best writing I’ve seen in years, and the author was too scared to even share it with anyone. She lost someone and had to do this all on her own. That’s terrifying, but it’s still her work. ” 

You look at the hand holding yours. It’s strong but has a softness to it. It has a few rings sitting on them, but none a wedding band. You lower your head and release your wrist, grabbing it with your other hand. You sigh heavily and grasp your hands in front of the pages. Your hands travel up to hide your face, which presents a melancholic smile that you can’t let go of. You can’t tell if it’s the liquor or his presence, but you feel a glow coming from inside. 

You rush your hands past your face and through your hair, resting your hands on the back of your neck. Scoffing, you turn to look at him. His amused smile is irresistible. 

“You,” He starts, “Are an amazing writer.” His hand lifts from the pages and reaches up towards your cheek, holding your face in his palm, “And no matter who your teacher is, you can still do it on your own.”

Your hand finds its way up to his arm, holding him back. Staring longingly at each other. Both deep down knowing that this was about to lead down a path you couldn’t return from. 

“Professor-” You initiate.

“Jacob.” He replies. 

“Fine… Jacob. This- I… I don’t think.” 

He quickly removes his hand from your face and comes to his senses. “Oh, dear, um… I’m so sorry y/n… I…”

You let yourself slump in the seat. How could you? How could you squander that moment? After years of wishing to find a man who was at least half as interested in literature as you… Here you are throwing it away. But you could be right to do so. He was your professor, you were his assistant, the moral implications of this all… 

Jacob stands and leans back onto the desk, stroking his chin, concerned. Thinking about it all. You can see the nerves climbing through him. He feels embarrassed.

You reach your hand up to your face again, burying your emotions into your skin. 

“I just thought- I, fuck.” He continues, “I thought we were turning a corner, I was looking and I thought I saw you-” 

“You did.” You respond, “...I was looking.”

You lower your hand from your face to stare back at him. You put the manuscript back on the desk and stand. 

“You… You were?” He searches for the answer. 

“Jacob… For months I have looked. I didn’t want to like you. I didn’t want to admit that to myself. My mentor was my heart and soul, she was everything to me. I didn’t want to give you any chances because I didn’t want to lose someone like that again… I can’t handle that heartbreak. But…” You trail off. 

“But?” He inquires. 

You reach for the scotch glass and swirl the liquid around. Staring deep into the stormy amber. 

“Fuck it.” You take the last of the scotch into your mouth and turn back to Jacob, “You… You are what I’ve wanted. I can’t deny the way I feel when it’s just us. When I see you deep in thought, when you push me to go further; when you challenge me. When we’re alone, and I see you for the man you are. When I see how genuinely fucking amazing you are. And I’m so mad at myself for not opening myself to you.” 

Jacob peels himself off the desk and stances himself in front of you. He grabs your hands and holds them tenderly in his. You drop your head, your hair falling over your frustrated expression. 

“You were grieving, you wouldn’t have been ready for this.” He reaches his hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear. 

You look up to him with doe eyes. He was the older man, coming in for the prey. You wanted to be his. You wanted to have him. You wanted it. You denied it for months. You denied it from the moment you saw him. You denied yourself to knowing him in fear that this exact moment would happen. But here you were. Unveiling yourself to him in the very place you felt the first attraction. 

“I want to be ready. No, I am ready. I want this. I can’t deny myself happiness because of everything that happened,” You said. 

“Are you sure?” He asked. Trying to test you. 

You nod your head in approval, trying once again to keep the emotions bottled in. 

“I don’t want you to feel any pressure because-”

“Please don’t say it. I know. I know this is all morally fucked up, but I’m an adult, you’re an adult. Just treat me like one.”

He smiles, admiring your maturity, “If you want to do this, there are some things we have to settle first.” 

You look up at him confused, “Things? What things?” 

“More like rules,” He answers, titling his head playfully, “I need to know what you’re comfortable with. I don’t want to scare you even more than you already seem.” 

He returns his hand to hold your face, just like he previously had only moments before.

“I’m not scared Jacob. What rules?”

“As much as I like to be gentle with women, I also enjoy being rough.” He says through a velvety tone

You jolt back, at first fearful of his words, but relax quickly, reminding yourself you don’t need to be scared. 

“How rough are we talking…” You prod. 

The cunning smile returns across his face, “Don’t worry, I don’t leave marks, at least too bad of marks… And only rough enough that you’ll still be wanting more by the time we’re done.” 

You bite your lip at the thought. You’re no virgin at this point in your life, but you’ve never been able to explore this type of intimacy. Every man in college is practically an amateur at pleasuring women and even more so when it comes to exploration in sex. You’ve read plenty of books to know about the type of sex he was talking about. As much as you enjoyed the classics and the light-hearted romance, you still found yourself picking up a steamier romance book in private. 

You wanted that. Had practically dreamed about it before… 

Being here with this man, who was only a few years your senior, felt like you could practice this fantasy safely. He knew what he was doing, he could show you pleasures you didn’t even know you could enjoy. Even if you felt like you couldn’t learn more from your education with him, perhaps there were other things he could teach you. It was all becoming a bit too exciting. 

His hand moves slowly down from your cheek to your waist. His palms gently grazed your spine until they locked in on your love handles. 

“So,” He continues, “Are you going to be my good girl? Can you be good for me? Do you think you can take it?”

You reach out to his chest, moving aside his shirt which had barely been buttoned. With one swipe down his sternum, you unlatched all of them revealing his smooth golden skin. He watched you intently, seeing you explore his skin like never before. You traced your fingers along the opening, feeling your need to reach more grow. With each second that passed you felt the insatiable thirst to be close to him; to feel him. His grip on your waist tightened with each pass you made over his chest. 

His other hand joined him on your opposite side. You feared that your hips may break with his excited hold. You looked up at him, biting your lip, trying to remain coy. That soft smile appeared on his lips; you had answered with your body language. 

He pushes his hands further into you and lifts you onto the desk, your ass barely resting on the edge of the wood. 

“Words,” He said, pulling himself closer into you, resting perfectly between your legs, “Nothing’s going to happen until you tell me you want it to. This isn’t going to work sweetheart unless you use your words.”

“Jacob-” Are the only breathy words that you can mutter. 

You can feel him growing, feel the linen pants barely holding back his excitement. You feel your heartbeat travel from your chest, down into your stomach, into your… 

His hand moves up to your jaw, holding it firmly in his grip, “Y/N, follow the instructions. Words. I’m not going to wait much longer.” 

“Yes-”

Before you can even finish he’s pulling you into an embrace. Your lips meet his. The soft taste of scotch remaining on both of you created an intoxicating addicting feeling. It was complete passion, complete neediness to be one. His tongue introduces itself into your mouth… Soft, wet. Beckoning. The noises you both are making sound feral, completely unusual for the both of you. What once was a prim and proper relationship between you became a fervent desperation to touch… To fuck. 

His hands traveled down your body, first reaching your chest, grasping you completely in his hand. Rolling his palms over the front of your breasts, driving you completely mad. You wished the barriers of clothing had been completely stripped away, but he was too hungry to even keep you waiting for long. His hands reached under your shirt, plowing underneath the wire of your bra to find your naked breasts. A soft relieving moan escaped your lips through the breaths of the kissing. 

You reached your hands out to find the remainder of the buttons of his vest closing you off to his body. You made quick work of unbuttoning them, reaching your hands across his midsection; climbing to his back. Reaching up towards his shoulders, feeling the softness of his skin across the pads of your fingers. God, he was perfect. 

His fingers traveled to your nipples, running his thumb and forefinger over the bud of your nipples. Before you could even realize what you were doing, your nails dragged down his back, raking into his skin. He paused the kissing for a moment to let out a moaning growl. He slid his hands out from your bra, slipping down to the edges of your shirt, attempting to tug it off as fast as he could. You snatched your hands out of his shirt to raise them over your head, giving him complete access to strip you. 

He placed his hand between your breasts and forced you down onto the desk, your head falling onto the manuscript below you. He shook off his vest and was quick to pull his shirt off. 

“Seems like I’m not the only one who likes it rough, huh?” He asked. 

You lifted your head from the desk, “No, definitely not.” You responded. Unsure where this untamed version of you had even come from. 

“No, sir” He stated, pushing you back down. 

“What?” You asked, skeptical of what he meant.    

He mounted himself once again between your legs, grinding himself into you. He traced his finger down your neck, to the waistline of your pants.

“Sir… That’s what my good girls going to call me, okay?” 

You rolled your eyes, unaware that you were even doing so, “Call me Jacob,” you mock, “Call me sir.”

He reached back up to your jaw, pushing his thumb into your cheek, “If you’re going to be a brat we’re going to need to set some more rules. Good girls don’t get punished, but you’re already testing me.”

Completely stunned, you look back at him trying to emulate a softness, an apology. You had to admit though, you weren’t scared of him… If anything you were more turned on by the thought of his punishments. 

“And how would you punish me, sir?” You ask in your best sultry voice. 

He let out a low grumbling laugh. He studied your body, not even acknowledging your question, just thinking… Thinking of what he would do to you. He grabbed onto your hips and pulled you hard into his cock. There was no wondering anymore. You could feel how large he was, how excited he was. If your own body wasn’t blocking it you could probably see it entirely. 

“Maybe,” He starts, “Maybe you’re not going to be my good girl,” His hands dig deeper into your waist, “Maybe, you’re going to be my little slut.” 

The word echoed through the room. It sent a shiver down your spine, but not the feeling of being displeased, it was a feeling of being right. Being here with him, being under his control, felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off your shoulders. He could see you in a way that someone hasn’t seen you for months. He was learning every inch of you and would learn even more as the night went on. 

He leaned down from his high position to plant gentle kisses along your neck. Gingerly leaving behind little reminders of passion. 

“-And if you’re going to be my slut,” He whines through breathy kisses, “you need to know the safe words.” 

You run your hands up to his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingers. Tracing his scalp over your fingertips. You don’t want to go this slow, the breaks are killing you. You just want to feel him. You want to feel him on you, in you, taking you completely as his own. 

His kisses finally reach the band of your jeans, but that doesnt stop him from exploring further. He pulls down on the jeans to reveal more of your stomach, delivering gentle almost tickling kisses. 

“Green,” He whispers, “Means you like it… You don’t want me to stop.”

His hand travels over to the button of your jeans, popping the metal away from the denim. Your eyes follow him, watching his hair fall over your stomach, the metal of his necklace chilling your bare skin. His shoulders look strong here, masculine, powerful. Watching him focus so intently on you is killing you. This is a man unlike any other that you’ve been with, he’s focused on treating you first, even if there were some other pleasures in it for him. 

“Yellow,” The zipper slowly starts to unravel as he pulls your pants further down, “Means you need me to slow down… If you need a break…” 

Your pants steadily fall off of your legs, finally being exposed to him entirely until they fall onto the floor. The only thing separating you from him now is your thong. Which you are now praising yourself for wearing today. He resumes his consuming kisses across your midsection, joining back down where he had left off. His hands slip underneath him to grab the edges of the lace, sliding off the thong with ease. 

His kisses start to graze you closer to your… 

He stops and lifts himself. His hand leads up to your mouth, putting his pointer and middle finger into your mouth. You accept them, excited for what it means. 

“Red.” His voice develops a more serious tone, “Means stop.” 

He removes his now slick fingers from your mouth, returning them down below. His fingers reach your cunt, and you welcome him with excitement of your own. Your body is in shambles waiting, wanting to know what it feels like. His fingers dance across your aching clit, his thumb padding the bundle of nerves, sending shockwaves through your deprived body. A loud distressed moan escapes you, you can’t help but express your enthusiasm. 

“Don’t worry sir,” You shudder through achy moans, “I don’t think I’ll need to use that one.”

“Good girl.”

Without any hesitation his fingers breach you, filling you up. He stands over you, watching you grow with the agony of pleasure. Your breath hitches with each pump, your back arching with each lift of his fingers. His thumb traces back over your clit, stimulating every inch of you. 

Every attempt at communicating the feeling faulters, except for, “Oh fuck-” 

Your body is shaking with each movement. He’s painting the perfect picture of an orgasm with just one hand. The power he holds, the knowledge he has. He knew how to please you better than you knew how to. 

His free hand makes its way around your neck, gripping it, holding you in place so he can work harder at you. You’ve never been choked before, it’s a completely new sensation. The gasps for air were something you thought you’d fear, but instead, you were wishing he’d hold on harder. 

“Green?” He asks, looking for permission. 

You nodded your head ferociously  

You feel yourself completely letting go under his control, something you feared once to let him have all the power. But here, now, held down to his desk… You never wanted it to stop. 

“Words.” He barked. 

Your hand reaches up to hold his wrist, “Yes, yes…” 

“Yes, what?” He asks again, his fingers slowing their movement. Clearly, he wouldn’t be letting you get away with anything. You had to be obedient and do as he told you.

“Yes… Please, Sir,” You beg. 

The words were getting harder to communicate. If he could finger you into oblivion, you might let him if it meant you could feel this good again. 

He smiled in approval and resumed his previous pace. Steadily building faster, and faster. Harder and harder. You could feel how wet you were becoming, it really didn’t take much for him to draw the excitement out of you. The swirls of his fingers and the vigor of his motions were precise… Calculated, trying to accomplish only one mission; and he was close to succeeding. 

Your moaning only got more frequent and louder, you couldn’t hold back. The pleasure was far too great to stay quiet. He almost let you be loud too, only for a few moments before reminding you of your location. He lifted his hand off your neck to lift a single finger to his lips and then pointed around the room. 

“If my good girl can’t stay quiet, I’ll have to make her. We don’t want anyone spoiling all the fun.”

You nod your head, remembering you were still in his office. Your surroundings had escaped you completely; only thinking of him and you. 

His thumb started to apply more pressure, practically begging for you for more. A softer moan forced its way out, helpless to be silenced. His hand plasters itself over your mouth, holding you silent. The pads of his fingers resting deep into your cheeks. 

“I know baby, it’s so hard… You’re gonna be so good and come for me now, okay?” 

Finally being relieved of speaking, you nod your head, ready for the climax. His fingers dive upward, grazing the sweet spot buried inside of you. The pressure, the sensation it’s all too much. You feel your belly tighten, your back arching. He’s trying to hold you steady as you writhe in pleasure. There’s no stopping anything now. 

“Do it baby, come on… Be a good little slut for me…”

Your eyes roll deep back into your head. You feel the sweet sensation of release wash over you. Like a wave of ecstasy, traveling from your toes, past your aching clit, through your belly, all the way to your head. Stifled moans slip through the cracks of his fingers. His fingers stay at their steady pace, pushing past your orgasm. You feel yourself dripping around him. You’ve never come this hard in your life, you’ve never felt the devotion to make you feel this good. Your body is quivering around him, unable to shake the overstimulation. You’re squeezing onto his wrist, trying to come down easy, but everything he’s doing is making the sensations crash into you. 

He takes his hand away from your mouth and you immediately gasp for air, trying to find serenity. 

“Oh god,” You moan, “How did you-”

He shuts you up by taking his mouth to your soaked cunt, sliding his tongue through the mess he made. You place your hands beside you to sit up slightly. This was a sight you did not want to miss. You take his hair in your hands and tuck it aside. Each stripe of his tongue makes you wince, you want him to stop, but you can’t let him. It feels too good. It’s too much but just the right amount all at once. 

He was consuming you, desperate to explore every inch of you. Wildly eating you up, trying to capture every last drop of his work. You were spilling into him, it was never-ending.  It was like you weren’t even there; everything except your pusy. This was a high that you never wanted to come down from. He was devoted to keeping you there as long as he could, but you couldn’t hold on for more. 

You fell back onto the desk, squirming through it all. He had you right where he wanted you. You let yourself fall into him, trying to take it all. Your hands reach over the desk, trying to find somewhere to hang onto, but instead knocking the scotch glass off the desk. Shattering loudly beneath you. 

Jacob didn’t stop though, he was completely distracted, locked in. You couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Yellow.. Yellow..” You begged, completely overstimulated and shocked. How could you even ask for that?... But it was impossible to withstand any more sensation. 

He stopped slowly, easing you out of the enjoyment. His hands reached up over your thighs and rested on your hips, slowly petting them with his thumbs. He looked up at you through glazed-over eyes, completely drunk on your arousal. He didn’t want it to end. 

Slowly raising himself back to a standing position, you could see how hard he had gotten. He felt just as much pleasure as you did. He was completely lost, coming back to reality. Chin dripping with your wetness… 

He leaned back over you and kissed you sloppily. The passion was more fiery than before. You did something to him and he did even more to you. It was strange to taste yourself on his lips, but exciting nonetheless. You were caught up together. Complete and one at that moment. And then it all stopped… 

Footsteps approached outside the classroom. You both stopped. He removed himself from your lips and raised his head to listen. 

A knock at the classroom door. 

“Hello?” Someone called out. 

There was no mistaking that someone was in this office, between the music, the glass breaking… They knew. 

“Everything okay in here Kiszka?” 

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. He stands and reaches for his shirt, buttoning it with no haste. He grabs your shirt and pants and kicks them under the desk, “Go, get underneath the desk,” He whispers, “Now.”

[vigilskeep]

i have never thought of the bg3 paths as railroaded before but oh my god... i see your vision. i think that, for all that can be picked apart in the writing of dragon age, the worldbuilding in that series is so so interested in complicating all factions that you can envision a character who /makes sense/ while bouncing through various ideologies. and the sort of fantasy writing in (most of) the forgotten realms doesn't really allow for that.

dao is particularly the light of my life because the origins mechanic is specifically intended to let you create a character who has a distinctive perspective on the world that’s grounded in the worldbuilding. one of my favourite aspects of this is several origins having completely different codex entries on their own culture as opposed to those an outsider would get. it’s really good! it’s also a reasonably grounded world (while obviously silly) because, like, the basic fundamental premise of thedas, from which they ikea flatpack built almost every feature, is “how would people react to magical and fantastical diversity? the same way they react to human diversity.” you’re meant to feel like, aside from i guess the darkspawn, people are normal and have real motivations. sure it has to fulfil certain roles in a story, and dragon age was manufactured too quickly and purposefully for everything to land feeling authentic, but evil in dragon age should feel recognisable. and in most of the origins they give you a chance to do something that is bad, but also totally makes sense, because of the context of your character belonging to this world where these things happen

in dnd/the forgotten realms it’s a bit different because capital e Evil exists, so there are people and deities and devils (and, to open another can of worms, races) whose entire goal is to Do Evil. it’s also harder to produce grounded evil because in a world where i’m being given basically no context and just told to make whatever i want, i don’t have an inch of the kind of social information i get from for example a dao origin: what my character has been taught to believe they should do to survive, who they are willing to sacrifice, whatever. bg3 also happens to have a main plot goal that is, at least for the first part of the game, broadly selfish (“i am sick, and i need a cure”) which works really well for getting a bunch of people with vastly differing moral standards to band together for the same goal, and not so good for any kind of “greater good” type blurred morality, so that’s out too

however much the worldbuilding factors into this, bg3 specifically went for quite a clear distinction between the good path and the capital e Evil Path, and i find it pretty hard to vary up the good path. when i say railroaded i mean you either do the specific thing that gets you a quest down the line or not. i was really disappointed actually in my playthrough where i totally fucked up in the druids’ grove and caused a fight to break out, because it immediately instakilled tons of characters i knew i would need down the line. the few it spared needed some of the dead ones to stay alive in later quests, so it’s like... oh. that’s just... over. for both factions. bg3 arguably lets you do basically anything you want but they are able to do that because if you fuck around it just breaks the entire quest line from coming up again, which means playing a character who fucks up is not even really going to get me consequences it’s just going to cut content from the game. does that make sense? and then the Evil Path is just straight up evil, like... there’s no way for me to complicate and empathise, here, especially playing a blank canvas character whose motivations i would have to make up from nothing, and who faces basically no consequences for not doing this. the only neutral/cowardly/self-interested option in act 1 is to do neither path, which gets me the least content because i literally don’t get to play the fucking game

i don’t know, i’m not saying it’s necessarily bad just that it’s hard for me, personally, and how i like to create characters. especially when you have my constant restart disease and you have to do this all over again a dozen times just for a handful of different dialogue. does any of that make sense

[rukia-writes]

Shy! Reader x Hercules

Plot: Hercules getting his shy nymph to come out of her shell.

A/N: the idea came to me after watching a show.

Warnings: no minors 🔞, 18+, talks of sex, sexual frustration.

Nymphs.

Nymphs were young, spiritedly women that resided in forests, rivers, mountains, and were said to be beautiful. Of course, each nymph had her own personality just like anyone else.

(Name) was no different.

A shy nymph who by definition was the opposite of what she was defined by from others; uncomfortable, self-conscious, nervous, bashful, timid, or insecure opposite of nymphs.

Especially, that of her sisters.

Speaking of which.

“Im so sick of her!”

The oldest of her sisters came to complain about the youngest sister (Name), as another suitor left in tears by (Name) rejecting him. The eldest counted that as the tenth suitor scorned…

She believed his name was Adamas or something.

“Poseidon and Hades and even…Buddha of all people want to be her lover and she just rejects them all?! What does she have that I don’t?!”

“She doesn’t yell for one thing.”

The middle sister spoke in a cool voice while reading a magazine featuring Aphrodite, beauty tips of course. As (Name) walked to her room, by passing her sisters they wondered who and when (Name) would start dating.

Truth was, (Name) had feelings for someone…

She was just shy.

It didn’t matter how many suitors came for her she wanted one person, and that was the envoy of Justice that saved her life.

A hero among gods.

In her alone time she would daydream about him, and sometimes she would wonder if she would see him again. Missing those beautiful blue eyes, his strong arms that protected her from harm, his bright orange hair and of course his big and bright smile.

Sighing to herself in her room she wished she could see him again.

“Oh come on, (Name) be my date.”

“No, Ares.”

The next day, Ares arrived on her doorstep asking again for a date. (Name)’s sisters were gossiping among themselves as the eldest was simply watching the situation unfold while the middle sister had a crush on the god of war.

The two were walking out towards the gardens and the two simply had banter back and forth of “One date” and “I’m not free that day.” And “You said that last time.” And “I’m also not free that day either.”

Ares was a bold person while (Name) was a shy and a little nervous around the tall and well toned god that could bench press a house with ease. Good thing he was easy to talk to and he wasn’t easily angered.

Unless, you’re Apollo.

“Well, at least come to the party. Everyone is going to be there. Apollo, Shiva, Buddha, Hercules. Everyone.”

Feeling her heart skip a beat when she heard Ares say Hercules, she then wanted to go to the party. Thinking to herself how great it would be to see Hercules again.

“Okay, I’ll go-“

“Okay, I’ll pick you up!”

Ares smiled as he was happy to get his crush to go to the party, her sisters watched in the bushes and were happy as there sister would finally meet someone.

(Name) did meet someone; she met him once more.

At the party, Hercules was the same as ever. Friendly and polite to everyone he talked to. Even when Ares introduced the two Hercules was the same and (Name) was shy in meeting the demi-god again.

Well, at least the two were joined at the hip the whole time.

Ares was none the wiser for it.

Maybe a little.

“Im so sick of her!”

The suitors never stopped coming for (Name)’s hand and her sisters jealousy never seemed to subside.

“At least she’s not here all the time.”

That was true, (Name) wasn’t home as much. (Name) wasn’t home now, she had been gone all day and had returned awfully late. Like any sister, the three older sisters crowded around (Name) while asking to what seemed like a million questions.

“Could you guys leave? I was just with a friend.”

Nervous in her response while holding something close to her chest, like any sibling the sisters tried their best to see what their younger sister was hiding and what friend she had been out all day with. Once she finally got her sisters out of her room she sighed in relief and placed the gift Hercules gave her on her bed.

The two had exchanged gifts earlier that day, Hercules gifted (Name) with a simple yet thoughtful gift of a rather small doll of himself. It was rather cute and Hercules like. “To keep you company at night.” Is what Hercules told her, a thoughtful and kind gesture.

With time, the two became close.

Hercules could handle her shyness with kindness, (Name) could handle Hercules boldness with her gentleness. The introvert and the extrovert. The visits became longer and longer making her sisters jealousy turn to worry. Thinking to themselves “she too in love.”

If she wasn’t at home she was on the phone.

Talking with someone.

“Prove it.”

“… excuse me?”

“Come over here and prove it. Or I could come over there.”

“My sisters would hear..”

(Name) was still shy around Hercules even if the two talked over the phone, he was the man she had feelings and affection for and yet while still shy she couldn’t deny that she made her hot sometimes.

Most times.

“No, see I’m pretty quiet.”

“…You’re funny.”

“I know I am-I am quiet.”

“They would definitely hear your foot steps.”

Smiling (Name) poked a little fun at Hercules who was playfully hurt, knowing (Name) had a point. Hercules wasn’t quiet when he walked, man was massive. A fucking unit.

“Fine, I’ll stay here then.”

“…but if you were here what would you do?”

Shy when asking (Name) could hear heart beat in her chest, as she awaited his answer wondering quickly if he would tell her something clever or sly. (Name) hoped for the sly and when she heard the chuckle heart and her clit jumped in excitement.

“What do you think I would do?”

Ah, teasing.

Clearing her throat and gathering her thoughts as this was a first for her, never did she think she would be flirting with the envoy of justice.

“I..I asked you first.”

Smiling in triumphantly as though she had victory in her hands, only for the envoy of justice to flip the script on her.

“Well first I’d pull you close to me. Then I would kiss your forehead, softly of course. Then I would kiss both sides of your neck. Because I know you would like that.”

“My neck..you would kiss my neck”

Shyly responding to the man of her dreams while placing her hand on the side of her neck, imagining Hercules softly kissing her neck as her heart beat increased as well the excitement between her legs.

“Yes, then I’d take off all your clothes. Just so I could see all of you. Then I would please you in all the right places. I’m in a giving mood you know.”

Hercules was no fool, he could hear the her panting a little over the phone, getting his shy nymph horny was working perfectly and he was in a giving mood that night.

“Then…then what?”

“Then…I would kiss your chest and then I would kiss your stomach, slowly. And then when i was ready I would kiss your clit.”

Hot and bothered.

Both parties seemed to be enjoying their first phone sex encounter.

“And then once you are begging and only when you were begging would give what you want. And I would do it slowly. Build up is important.”

Build up was important.

(Name) could feel her heart beating fast with the excitement between her legs growing more as she began to touch her chest holding the phone for dear life, imagining what Hercules tongue must feel like.

Shy or not, she wanted the fiery righteous god.

A dirty thought crossed her mind as she thought of Hercules’ cock, how big it was, was it curved or not, skinny or fat. The nymph side was coming out for sure.

“And then..”

“And then what?”

Smiling, Hercules knew several things, he knew he had her in the palms of his hand, that she wasn’t ready for that yet, and he liked how things were going.

“…well, I guess the only to get your answer is to come see me.”

End call.

Yes, the shy nymph had experienced her first phone sex experience as well as her first experience of being sexually frustrated as she sighed in frustration while laying on her back on her bed wanting Hercules like never before.

🎀Rukia-Writes🎀

[babiebom]

Hi :3 Can I request???? Sabation (sdv) x pregnant fem wife reader headcanons

A/N: this is actually really cute and especially because I posted the how many kids I think they’ll have thing I can kinda go into detail for each kid. AHHHHHH one thing about me is that I’m a family oriented sim(person) and I LOVE kids. I know it’s a thing right now to hate kids but I don’t and a lot of my fics involve this and I’m ranting so I’ll end this note here lmao.

Tw:pregnancy, mentions of sex, mentions of pregnancy complications, cursing, lmk if I should tag anything else!!

Bc:probably at least 10

Stardew Valley Masterlist

So in my other post I said that he would have either one or how many his partner wants

So I’m gonna say three because I think that’s like the average amount of kids people have

The very first pregnancy Sebastian is absolutely out of his mine

“Don’t touch my wife” “be careful she’s pregnant” “she can’t have that it’s not good for her or the baby”

To be honest I think you being pregnant would cause him to be more outspoken

Like usually he doesn’t say anything unless he has to speak up because he’s sorta antisocial(I don’t think he’s shy, he’s quiet because he wants to be)

But now he’s always saying something to someone.

He is literally just out of his mind with worry and he has to keep you and the baby safe

STAY AWAY FROM MY WIFE❗️❗️❗️🗣️🗣️

If it’s a particularly hard pregnancy he’s even more protective

Like if your doctor says bedrest Sebastian is taking that SERIOUSLY

You are not getting out of that bed unless you have to piss or shit nothing else.

He is so lucky to have a stay at home job, and even if you take time off because of the pregnancy he can take care of the animals.

At the birth he probably passes out while seeing your child being born

But it’s not out of disgust, it’s because his emotions are out of control.

Cries at the hospital, probably more than you do are you have to be like….Seb please calm down I get you love the baby but you’re crying all over them…….

Second child he’s more calm but is still VERY strict with you

Also since you already have a kid, the dynamic has changed.

He completely takes over anything that you were in charge of parenting wise.

Won’t let you cook for anyone

And the only thing you would be allowed to do is stuff you can do in bed

The second birth goes more smoothly, and he actually stays awake through it and is able to watch your child be born

Third pregnancy he would probably be ramped up in worry especially if you have had complications before and this being your last child

Since this would be your third time going through this I think he would be sick with worry but confident that you could take care of yourself.

During the third birth he actually has the confidence to cut the umbilical cord and would probably be excited to do so

Would probably be hesitant to have sex while you’re pregnant

Like all three pregnancies he would be like ummmmmm I don’t know about that what if I hurt you?

Will have sex if you reassure him bc I do think he might have a bit of a breeding kink and would want to.

I think first and second labors were progressed by y’all fucking

Third you both didn’t need to because your body was like yup let’s get it over with

Overall a very helpful and anxious daddy

Actually tries to make sure your kids get along

And tries to make sure that his relationship with them is good.

[antimony-medusa]

Guys, every time I post something about like “you may not realize this but you’re really coming up on a kink here, consider tagging”, as the post escapes my circle I keep getting people coming into my notes like “YEAH I’m sick of those FREAKS in the fandom, get them out” and like that is not what I’m saying at all.

I have been posting things because I think some people aren’t realizing how they’re coming across in some cases, or not realizing that this connection is tropes they’re super into has a specific name. It happened just the other day with someone coming up to me like “wait intox kink is a thing”? And yes. These are all things. There are names for all these things.

I’m posting these things because a) it starts to get rude to take some of these tropes and insist there’s nothing but vanilla posting happening in this fic. In the same way as you wouldn’t show up to work in a bikini there are fic subjects that are rude to drop on people unwarned.

And like, when I hit things I’m not into unwarned there’s a whole spectrum there from raising my eyebrows and continuing to having to click off a fic, but I do not have a moral or ethical problem with people writing family relationships I consider to be suspect. I think you should tag it to be polite but in the same way as I would go Huh about someone coming into my work in a bikini, I think they’ve misread the tone of the room, but they have not committed a mortal sin. I’m not saying that this person who showed up in a bikini is someone we should shun out of the community. God, I have hit legit triggers unwarned for before, and I don’t enjoy that, but I don’t think the person who did this is a terrible person or something. You messed up but you’re still like, fine.

But I’m also posting it because b) knowing that what you’re into has a name can be an experience full of joy. Mortifying? Yes! Especially if you realize that this is a theme through multiple of your works and you had no idea! Ask me about my fucking discovery that I found dubcon interesting and I’d been writing YA novels with romantic interactions structured around uneven power deferentials. I wanted to throw myself into the sea and never write again.

But once I went ohhhhhhh that’s why I found interactions where one person had a dearth of options to be interesting, I could b) not put it in my work unwarned for and not for all audiences c) investigate that theme more fully and decide if I wanted to celebrate it structurally and focus in on it or just include it as a fun highlight d) seek out other works with that tag and see other people exploring that. e) understand the baffling reactions I had going on from people where sometimes I could bring up a story and it would go well and sometimes they would hate it and it seemed random? Connected to Whump? Me trying to do romance was bad? No, it turns out one of my friends hates consent issues and I think they’re fun. You know how much easier that made interactions with that friend?

Like, part of the posting I have been doing is because there are tropes you don’t bring up in polite company. Incest is one of them. Consent issues. Daddy kink. If I was doing these things and putting them in the platonic tag, I would want to be warned that I was doing it. And sometimes the tone of my posts has gotten a bit hysterical because seeing endless waves of this stuff presented as though it’s vanilla can make you feel like you’re in the mirror dimension. *I* know that you shouldn’t be doing that, but everyone around me had shown up to the exam wearing a banana bikini. They are gonna go out into the work world like that. Do they not know? Etc.

But like if you spend enough time with yourself you’ll find you’ve got one or two interests you have to pick the friend group to talk about because people will think they’re weird. Everybody is like this. People are strange and complex. I don’t want to get into pointing and going ahahahahahahah look at that, and I’m sorry if I’ve gone down that path.

I just think that it would be helpful if we use the right words for things occasionally.

[linos-luna]

Injuries? 🔪

Yandere!Huengingkai x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, manipulation

—————————— 🧸 ——————————

Pretending to be sick or injured for attention? No way he’d do that! Not your sweet boyfriend! He’s just a little clumsy at times.

But this man was crazy. He managed to manipulate you into falling for him. Acting all cute and innocent, when being innocent is far from what he is. Kai hides it from his friends well, rarely letting the mask slip. Although sometimes it does. He stalked you, learned your habits, and charmed you into falling in love. And now… well now you’re stuck.

~ 🧸

A family event. Just great. Not one of your favorite things. In all honesty you only go to family events see siblings, cousins, and a select few revatives. If it wasn’t for them you wouldn’t go at all. But today was different. They wanted to meet your boyfriend.

You’ve been dating him for a while and even moved in together yet he’s never met your parents face to face. He’s talked to them on the phone and through video call but never in person. They seem to like him but are disheartened that you rarely visit.

You thought that since this relationship is serious, you’d have him meet others in your family as well.

But your boyfriend isn’t so excited either… in fact he doesn’t want you to go at all. He hates when you give other people attention and he’ll definitely get jealous, even it’s your family! He won’t even let you get a pet in fear that you’d love it more than him.

So he was thinking…

You had been getting dressed and packing some clothes. The trip wouldn’t be for another hour or two but you just wanted to be ready.

Looking in the mirror, you sighed while finishing your hair and makeup, wondering how this would pan out.

Meanwhile you could hear your boyfriend shriek.

You hear some thuds and quickly rush out, only to see him moaning at the bottom of the stairs.

“Oh my god! Baby are you okay?!” You quickly went to him, quite worried. “Baby?”

“I-I’m fine noona…” he was holding back a smile, “I just fell that’s all.”

“Baby, you gotta be more careful...” You frowned while helping him up.

He winced when standing before crying out in pain.

“Agh! Noona that hurts!”

You paused and look down, his ankle was a little swollen. He must’ve sprain it. This isn’t the first time… he’s just clumsy like that.

“I think it’s sprained…” he whimpered.

You frowned at it, feeling bad, before gently getting him to the bedroom.

You left to the kitchen to make an ice pack as kai made himself comfortable. He always knew how to get the injury just right.

Soon you came back with the ice pack and propped some pillows up to put his ankle on.

“Baby, I’ll make you some soup before I leave!” You said while putting the ice pack to his ankle. “I’ll leave your crutches from last time right here… Then I’ll have your friend Soobin come by tomorrow morning to help you. I’ll be back tomorrow night. Okay?”

“Before you leave?? But you can’t go..”

“But I already told my parents that I’m going.” You sighed. “I haven’t seen them in almost a year.”

“But… but I’m hurt…” he frowned.

“I know but—”

“Don’t leave me, noona!” He blurted out while grabbing your wrist. “Please!”

“Baby—”

“I need you!” He said while tearing up. “It hurts noona!”

This was just breaking your heart. There was always this little instinct of yours to take care of people you love, especially your boyfriend. But it also got you thinking… he’s hurt his ankle a lot. Other body parts too but his ankle more recently…

“Baby… you’ve sprain your ankle before…” you said while sitting next to him and rubbing his cheek. “It wasn’t that bad last time… it’s not like you broke it and—”

“Should I break it?” He said with a dead serious expression. “Will breaking it make you care?!”

“What?! No don’t break it!” You were stunned. Why would he say that?!

“I can break it! I can break it right now!” He said frantically while starting to get up, only for you to pull him back down.

“No Kai don’t!”

“You obviously don’t care about me!” He said, obviously frustrated, with some tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Baby—”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” He interrupted. “Just go! Go have fun with the family that’s mean to you!”

Disheartened, you stood up and sighed. Not sure what to say as he was obviously upset.

“I-I’ll go make your food…” you said while awkwardly walking out.

Your boyfriend wondered if he was a little too harsh but you should be apologizing soon. That’s what he wants.

You were lost in thought while cutting the vegetables. The thought of leaving him did seem bad but then again, this trip has been planned for weeks! And everyone is excited to see you. Even if your family is a little toxic, all families are right?

But why would you leave him alone?? Your sweet baby boy! I mean it’s not his fault that he fell down the stairs. Everyone does that at some point in life. Right?

You put the vegetables in along with some left over chicken bones for homemade broth. Now you just needed to wait for it to boil before adding the meat and noodles.

You sighed while going back to the bedroom and peaked in to see your boyfriend sitting there with his arms crossed.

“Baby?”

He didn’t answer, only looking at you.

“I’m making your soup.” You said while coming in. “I-I’m sure you’re going to like it.”

Again, he doesn’t answer. Only stares.

“Hey.” You sit next to him and take his hand. “You know… my family is a pain. Perhaps… I shouldn’t go.”

Kai perked his head up when hearing that and looked at you, acting surprised.

“I mean, they’re not all that nice.” You shrug. “And besides, I can’t just leave my injured baby boy at home all alone.

“So… you’re not leaving?”

“It was dumb of me to think I should. I’m sorry.” You said before giving him a kiss on the cheek. “I should be at home. Taking care of my baby boy.”

“Noona…? After dinner… Can we cuddle and watch movies?”

“Of course!” You said while standing up, about to leave to finish cooking.

“Noona!” He called out suddenly. “I-I want more kiss!”

You chuckled and went back to him, giving a long kiss on the lips. But even as you tried pulling away, he pulled you in again, making you sit next to him.

At first he held your shoulders as he kissed you, then moved to lightly grope your breast and hold your waist m. He wanted to do more but you stop him.

You moaned a little and let go, remembering that you have food cooking.

“Baby let’s continue later.” You laughed. “I got food on the stove!”

“Okay, noona.” He giggled as you got up.

He was just too cute to look at and you quickly made your way out to check on the soup.

Your boyfriend smiled. He got exactly what he wanted.

[zer0pm]

Imagine being an undercover agent who once infiltrated Umbrella and grew close to Luis Serra. You were forced to separate from him, never telling him why and broke his heart in the process. When you thought that you have finally moved on, you find him again. Tied up in a sack.

“What’s in Spain?”

“My home. A village, to be exact. And remote. The people there could use people like us to help them. No one would be able to find us there. Not even Umbrella. There, we can disappear.”

“…I’m sorry, Luis. I can’t.”

.

“You seem distracted.”

“What?” you blink, immediately biting your tongue after. But it was too late, you were caught red-handed.

“Case in point,” your partner Leon sighs. “So, what is it? What’s on your mind?”

You reply with a frown, “I’m wondering how deep these tunnels go. Must have something important down here for these… villagers to go through the trouble of trying to lock it up inconspicuously.”

It was such a blatant lie, the blond’s stony expression showed that he wasn’t buying it at all. But Leon doesn’t say anything. Instead, he leads on with his gun and flashlight pointing forward in the darkness. You were relieved that he didn’t press further.

But he’s also right. You were distracted and on a mission where a steady, focused mind is imperative at all times. Mulling over the past on things that were best laid forgotten is meaningless and offered no benefit to the task at hand. So why bother even allowing it to weigh so heavily in your thoughts?

Because what are the odds that this is the same place that he mentioned? The one that he wanted to hide away with you within? Given everything you’ve seen so far, with all these monsters roaming about, you sincerely hope not. Surely this is all coincidental and that he is in some other part of Spain.

.

“You mentioned that you grew up in Spain, right? What was it like there?”

“Oh? For once you don’t want to talk about work or whatever ingenius discoveries I’ve made recently? Pero, you actually want to engage in small talk? It must be a sign!”

“Answer the question or I’m requesting a department change.”

“Calma, calma. I only tease. Hmm… The weather can be unforgiving, especially during the rainy season. The people live day-to-day on whatever resources that can grow or be found under the constantly harsh conditions. Sickness often spreads and the treatment is… archaic.”

“This all sounds awful.”

“It wasn’t all bad. Everyone in our small community had someone to support them. I had my grandfather. He helped shape me to be the man I am today. A very handsome man at that, with both brains and brawn. In case, you didn’t notice already.”

“He must be very proud of you.”

“I hope so...”

“You don’t keep in touch?”

“So interested in my life story all of a sudden. And yet I still know so little of yours.”

“What’s there to know? There’s not much to tell.”

“See, that is where you’re wrong, my friend. A key to a great story is time to gather your thoughts. And I wouldn’t mind making time to listen to yours. How does after work sound? There’s an excellent coffee spot around the corner.”

“…You know what? A drink sounds great.”

.

You should have rejected him then and there. The task was only to gather information and find evidence of the production of biochemical weaponry. Forming attachments was not part of the job. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to deny him then, convincing yourself that it was necessary to reinforce your cover. You were seen as just a researcher forging deep interpersonal relationships with your fellow coworker and not at all a spy for the government sent to infiltrate a pharmaceutical giant for secrets that could topple a nation.

No one suspected a thing- not Umbrella, not your handlers, not even him. It worked. But it didn’t make you feel any less guilty about it, especially when you developed real feelings for him and he reciprocated them earnestly and affectionately. At first, you meant to play along with no intention of taking him seriously. The Spanish researcher expressed himself as a man who talks a big game but settles down or folds over for no one. He had a reputation within the labs as a serial flirt after all.

However, the day he casually asked you out, he surprised you. Beneath all the playful, charming remarks and practiced come-hither smirks belied a genuine romantic. He was a man passionate about his work, driven by a real desire to help others. He cared about other people, evident at how intently he listened to you when your shared bits of yourself to him. Granted, much of what you said then was fabricated to uphold your secret identity, but he showed unwavering interest in you and the image you created as if you two were only people in that coffee shop that mattered. After one date came another, then another, then another until you lost count. You fell for him and you fell for him hard. And before you knew it, at his suggestion, the two of you moved in together.

It was a dream. A wonderful dream. You couldn’t remember the last time you lived a normal life, let alone someone to come home to. It was such a domestic feeling. To go wit him to work by day then go home together by night to fall asleep in each other’s arms and do it all over again the following morning. To fall into a routine was strange and something you grew affectionately accustomed to. And it was all because of him. He made you feel safe. He made you feel loved. He made you feel normal. But it was only a dream. And all dreams eventually come to an end.

It got to a point where you dug yourself so deep that by the time you had to shed your identity and leave him, it left scars that neither of you would ever recover from.

.

“¿Qué? What do you mean, you can’t?”

“I can’t go to Spain with you.”

“Is it the location? We can go anywhere you want,l, but we have to make sure we hide our tracks from Umbrella-”

“I mean that I can’t go with you. Anywhere. Period.”

“¿Mande? Why.”

“I want to tell you, I really do.”

“…Tú no me quieres.”

“No! Of course I do.”

“Then why? Why can’t you run away with me? I can protect us, you just have to trust-”

“This isn’t about trust.”

“Then tell me what it is!”

“…This isn’t going to work. I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“L-Lo siento, mi corazon. I didn’t meant to shout. We can work through this-”

“Just please remember that what we had was real.”

“¡Amor!”

“Goodbye, Luis.”

.

That was the last time you saw him. You broke his heart, the pieces of yours shattered away with every step that you took away from him. Revisiting those memories all caused a single tear to fall down your cheek.

You have to move on. It’s been long enough. It was all to protect him, you told yourself countless times. In your line of work, attachments just do not (and cannot) stick. And you stuck with that choice without an ounce of regret. You only hope that wherever Luis is now, he’s happy and safe. That alone kept you going.

When you finally broke yourself out of your daze, you found yourself facing a wall. You quietly berated yourself for your absentmindedness again and were grateful for the darkness. Luckily, your fellow agent didn’t notice you or your inner turmoil, something else catching his attention at the end of the tunnel.

“Over here. I found someone.”

Your head snaps towards Leon’s direction, your heartache momentarily dulled and set aside. “Ashley Graham?”

“Don’t know yet,” Leon replies, crouching down. “Here, hold the light.”

You hurry over to the blond’s side, taking the flashlight from him and directing it towards his finding. A large sack, big enough for a person, was flailing about. The sound of muffled struggling reaches your ears. Leon unties the top of the thick cloth before pulling it down. You almost didn’t believe what, or rather, who you were seeing. But your eyes were blown wide in recognition before Leon rips the tape off of their mouth. There was no mistaking those rugged features, that dark hair, and those grey eyes that you fell in love with helplessly so long ago.

It was him. The man that haunted your every thoughts and dreams. The man that dug his way into your heart and made a home there.

Luis Serra Navarro.

“Oh no, not you.”

The man merely gazes back at you, momentarily stunned before chuckling in that husky voice of his that you thought you’d never hear again.

“I’ve missed you too, mi corazon,” he says. His eyes glide over your form lasciviously, uncaring that you (and your partner) can see him staring shamelessly. He looked and smiled at you as if the years spent apart never happened. “Te ves bien.”

You had so many questions.

.

.

.

A/N: Part Two can be found right here~

[mysticpenguincreation]

okay. im going to post again and break my own promise because i also want to address another side of the argument.

people saying how they can’t watch part 2 now because luke manipulated the fans and they feel that the magic is ruined.

remember. we are talking about real people here. they are not the fictional characters they play on screen. let’s go over this one by one, i LOVE making numbered lists for arguments:

1. Luke and Nicola provided us with a fabulous tour. They owe us NOTHING.

It’s US who should be greatfull to them for doing hard work. A long press tour with that amount of promotion must have been absolutely exhausting no matter how much you love your job.

2. Luke isn’t obliged to fall in love with Nic and date Nic.

3. Nic isn’t obliged to fall in love with Luke and date Luke.

4. MULTIPLE times they addressed the fact that they are good friends. People were giddy making gifs saying “no, ur lying”.

Now imagine someone coming up to you and saying “You’re in love with me”. You answer “No i’m not”. They tell you “Nah, you’re lying”. It’s all in good fun until it grows into a straight up disrespectful delusion.

5. The personal life of actors shouldn’t affect how you feel about fictional characters. ESPECIALLY if they did not a fucking thing wrong. I wish really creepy and predotary people in the industry got at least half of the shit Luke is going through right now because Luke dared to have a fucking relationship. Or a relationship not with Nic.

6. We should be thankful to Nic and Luke for being kind, professional and respectful. We should be in love with their beautiful friendship, and not push either of them to cater to desires of fans who cannot, will not, do not want to distinguish between show and real fucking life. They have no obligation to you to start dating because their onscreen counterparts did and you liked it.

7. Again, I do not want to speculate. I have no idea if it was their decision or if it was PR. If they were encouraged to hide their relationship during promotion (imagine waiting this fucking long), or if they were encouraged to show that they’re together right after the show dropped. I do not know AND IT DOES NOT MATTER. Even the idea of restraining your personal life due to PR is sad and makes me sick. I hope they’re just going with the flow, staying true to themselves and are being HAPPY.

“Was it a wrong PR decision?” does not fucking matter because it should be their fucking decision to begin with. The fact that PR is created for this exact reason - to do damage control when people lose their shit over something normal is bind-boggling. It is insane that we came to this fucking point in human history.

8. The phrase “Luke’s hard launch” disgusts me. Fans are talking about Antonia like she’s an object and not a real person. JUST STOP!

9. Try to be fucking kind and touch the fucking grass once in a while. Grass is lovely - take Penelope’s advice.

Seeing this makes me think that the comments are coming from two groups of people:

1. Toxic stan’s who want Nic with Luke and can’t grasp the idea that they are not their characters. “Luke is a lot like Colin” from interviews does not fucking equal “Luke is in love with Nic”. Following this delulu logic he should have fallen for Claudia then because they said multiple times that Claudia is a lot like Pen and Nic is a lot like Eloise. There is no fucking connection in these statements. Fucking none.

2. People who loved the idea of Luke being single because it allows them to fantasize about Luke falling in love with them. It’s okay, we’ve all had celebrity crushes, but when it gets to the point of you throwing hate at the person, it becomes creepy and unhealthy.

To all the haters and “sympathizers” - get some help and get your shit together.

[cocogum]

Yugo and Amalia’s relationship is much more complicated than you think.

Sometimes I wonder what Amalia meant when she said “Nothing is impossible.” at Yugo’s explanation of why they couldn’t be together.

Like I know you want that eliatrope ass but he’s got a point shawty.

What do you think would’ve happened if he got into a relationship earlier on with you??? Can you imagine how it would’ve looked like?? My god there would be so much drama and rumours in the Sadida kingdom….but like really big ones to the point where it wouldn’t sound funny or entertaining anymore, but just criminal 💀

Also, how is she gonna….you know? Do anything to him? Sure, Yugo’s mentally a man but he still has a 10-year-old body.

Did Amalia not think this through when she told him “Nothing is impossible.”???? Either she said that because she genuinely only wanted to keep things pure with him besides hand-holding and kissing, or she’s just a really freaky bitch in bed.

There can’t be anything else, it’s either one of them or she just said that without thinking.

Imagine being a servant in her kingdom if Yugo did get together with her before season 3…..I love drama but I don’t wanna get scarred for life, there’s a limit.

Amalia would legit be the scariest one in the relationship though. Like it’s cute and very loyal of her to accept him even if he doesn’t look like a grown man but if you’re fine getting tongue kissed by him ON THE MOUTH when he looks like a minor AND you don’t care what others say, then you’re a menace to society. I wouldn’t even be worried for Yugo, I��d just be worried for everyone else’s sake. (Before ppl come for my ass, dw i loved the yumalia kiss cuz no one was around them-)

Some people are saying that Yugo’s reason for not being with her is bs because “love is love” and “Yugo can just explain that his race ages slowly to people”.

When in actuality, it’s all very much more complicated than it already looks.

In fact, their relationship could raise so many problems and conflicts that I decided to list them up for you. Here are the following reasons why these two being together can go very wrong:

1) Amalia isn’t a normal Sadida. She’s a PRINCESS of the SADIDA KINGDOM. Marriage isn’t just some event that happens and then ends. It won’t look like the one Dally and Eva had. Royal marriages are a bigger deal than they let on and it’s a public thing to witness.

2) Amalia is a public and authoritative figure. Meaning that if she were to marry Yugo, the whole world would know that she got with a man who’s stuck in a child’s body. Sure, even if Yugo explained the situation to the other nations, this would still look very weird and off-putting for the others to see. People would still wonder why (and especially how) Amalia fell in love with Yugo when he looks like that. They would definitely start asking questions. Not to mention that if Amalia were to showcase who she loves to the world, plenty of sick twisted people would see their relationship and feel encouraged to continue their behavior (you know exactly what kind of ppl I’m talking about here). And if those same disgusting people got caught doing immoral things with children, they would just point fingers at Amalia and say “But if she does it, how come I can’t?”. They’d start blaming her for their actions, making her look even worse to the public.

3) No matter how you look at their relationship, the only ones who would genuinely feel comfortable witnessing them together would be Ruel, Eva, Dally, Adamaï, and even Elely and Flopin. They know Yugo and Amalia on a personal level because they have all been through so much with these two that they know exactly how they are and know that Amalia isn’t the type to take advantage of Yugo like that. But if the rest of the world were to see them like this? That’s a hard no.

4) Amalia claims that she doesn’t care what other people think. That means she wouldn’t be ashamed or shy to give Yugo affection out in public, she definitely feels like the type to do public displays of affection with her significant other. Who knows who could see them together? Teenagers, adults, senior citizens, but especially the children who would pass by them and be too confused to understand why a grown woman is kissing a ‘child’ like that.

5) Her family (which currently consists of Armand and Aurora) would immediately stop her from getting together with Yugo. Because yes, her family would also be a problem. (I was surprised that I didn’t see a lot of people mention the Sadida family to be another factor against their relationship.) Armand is too much of a strict brother. He won’t be easy to sway and he always says what he thinks. He’d immediately (and clearly) explain to Amalia that this decision of hers is a very disgusting and shocking one. The idea of throwing harsh words at her wouldn’t seem very far-fetched for Armand to do. Not only that, but he’d also start to become very strict on her, wanting to know her whereabouts at all times and make sure that her time outside of the kingdom is limited since he now knows he can’t trust her when it comes to what types of men she loves and especially who she’s friends with. Aurora, on the other hand, is already very manipulative so she’d most likely side with her husband on everything that he says when it comes to Amalia.

6) And last but not least, her relationship with Yugo would make the royal Sadida family look extremely bad in front of the other kingdoms and nations. Like I said before, since Amalia is a public/authoritative figure due to her royal status, her choices to inflict any action has a chance to make her family look bad. The same can be said for Armand too if he did anything without thinking.

So in short, not only would Amalia and Yugo’s relationship look weird and wrong to the world no matter what Yugo says, but their relationship could also affect and hurt a lot of people if these two are not careful or aware of how they’d look like, especially Amalia.