#I think sometimes we forget that if there are...

[maskedbyghost]

where you left me (part 2)

part 1

You don’t sleep that night.

The bed feels wrong as you lie flat on your back, staring at the ceiling, while his voice keeps echoing in your head.

Being with you was a mistake.

You know he’s lying. You know it. You saw the way he froze when you said his name. Still, it doesn’t stop the hurt. You can’t shake the hollow ache in your chest.

By morning, you don’t bother pretending to sleep anymore. You get up early, earlier than you need to, and go through the motions. Shower. Uniform. Boots laced tight. No one says anything when you sit quietly in the mess with untouched food. Soap gives you a nod but doesn’t push. Gaz tries to get you to take his coffee again, like clockwork. This time, you hold it in both hands and keep it close to your chest even though you still don’t drink it.

You keep busy with training, cleaning, or running laps. You volunteer for everything, take the worst shifts, anything that keeps you moving. Anything that keeps you from thinking.

But no matter what you do, he’s still everywhere.

You catch him in the reflection of a window once, his mask back on, and for a second, you forget how to breathe. It’s cruel how easily your body still reacts to him. Like it doesn’t care what your mind knows. Like it’s still waiting for him.

The first few days, you waited. You told yourself he just needed space. That he’d come back when he’d thought things through. You even left your phone on loud, in case he texted or called in the middle of the night. He never did.

After a week, you stopped checking your phone as much. After two, you started leaving it in another room so you wouldn’t obsess every time a notification popped up. After a month, you stopped bringing him up in conversations. Not because you were over it, but because it hurt too much to explain something you didn’t even understand.

You tried to move on. You really did. You started sleeping on both sides of the bed. Started deleting pictures slowly, one by one, until your phone felt less like a trap and more like yours again. You even stopped wearing his hoodie when you were alone.

And then, on a completely normal Tuesday, someone asked you out.

He wasn’t special. Just some guy you knew from a mutual friend. He was decent looking, funny enough. And when he asked if you wanted to grab a drink sometime, you didn’t hesitate. You said yes. It felt easy. Light. Like maybe you really could move on.

Until Simon fucking Riley somehow overheard.

You didn’t even know he was there. But a few hours later, your phone buzzed, and you saw his name pop up for the first time in weeks.

Simon: If you go out with him I’ll kill him.

You stared at the message. Read it twice, three times, because there was no way he just said that.

You: Fuck you, Simon. We broke up, and I can do whatever the fuck I want.

Simon: Come tonight. Need to talk. Somewhere private.

You didn’t answer right away. You stared at the screen for a long time, your stomach twisting. You told yourself you should ignore it. That if he wanted to talk, he should’ve done it a long time ago. But you knew you were going.

Even as you typed out “ok” and threw your phone on the bed with a groan, you were already halfway through planning what you were going to say. What you were going to scream, really. You were going to punch his stupid, beautiful face the second you saw him.

You met him at his place. You hadn’t been there since the breakup, but everything was still the same. Same lights. Same scent. Same fucking shoes by the door that made your chest hurt.

He opened the door before you even knocked, like a dog waiting at the window. If you weren’t so mad, you’d laugh, but instead, you stared him down.

"You look pissed," he said.

"I'm not here to fucking smile at you," you shot back, walking past him.

"Fair enough."

You turned to face him, arms crossed. "Well? You dragged me here to say something, so say it."

He looked at you for a long second. Then, "I don’t want you dating other people."

You blinked, then laughed. "Wow. That’s rich. You broke up with me, and now you get jealous the second someone else looks at me? That’s really fucking mature, Simon."

He didn’t say anything.

"What the fuck do you even want from me?" you snapped. "You didn’t want to be with me, but I can’t be with anyone else either? What is that?"

He muttered something under his breath.

"What?"

He glanced away, jaw tight. "I said, preferably, I want to keep you in a fucking glass cage."

There was a beat of silence. Long enough for you to blink, tilt your head, and reconsider every life choice that had brought you to this exact moment. Because he hadn’t just said that. He couldn’t have.

You narrowed your eyes. "Hello, Joe from You? Are you out of your fucking mind?"

Simon sighed. "I'm not joking. I can't fucking bear to lose you again."

You scoffed, stepping back. "Right. That’s why you broke up with me. Because it was too good, huh?"

"I was scared. It wasn’t your fault. It was never your fault."

"No, it wasn’t. But you made it mine anyway. You made me think I fucked something up. You made me sit with that for months."

He took a step closer. "I could’ve done more. I should’ve done more. I didn’t know how to handle what I felt for you, and I’m sorry."

"You should be," you said, voice quieter now, angrier in a different way. "Because I was all in. And you walked away."

Simon nodded slowly. "I know. And it kills me. You think I didn’t want to call you? You think I didn’t stare at my phone every night thinking about it? I didn’t think I deserved you. But now… I don’t care. I’ll be selfish. I want you back. I want you with me. Not him. Not anyone else. Me."

You stared at him for a moment. Everything about him made your chest ache. Your fists clenched. "You don’t get to do this unless you mean it."

"I mean it. All of it. I don’t care what it takes. I’ll do it. Just… don’t shut the door on me. Not yet."

Your voice was shaking now, but you didn’t look away. "I want to hit you."

"Go ahead."

"I want to scream at you for making me feel disposable."

"You weren’t. You aren’t. You never will be."

You paused, eyes burning. "You better fucking grovel. I'm not making this easy."

"Wouldn’t expect anything less."

You finally let out a shaky breath. Your shoulders dropped just a little, and your voice was low when you said, "I’m not dating him."

"Good. Because I was serious. I would’ve killed him."

"You're an idiot."

"But I'm your idiot. If you'll have me."

You didn’t say anything, just stared at him, still trying to decide if you wanted to punch him or kiss him. Maybe both.

Simon stepped closer, his eyes softening a little. Without a word, he reached up and gently brushed a stray hair behind your ear. Then, before you could react, his lips touched yours, and you didn’t pull away. Instead, you let yourself lean in, closing the space between you.

When you finally broke apart, he smiled, a little shy now. “Still want to punch me?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile creeping up. “Maybe just a little.”

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

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6 @tessakate @xocandyy @nightfwn @robinfeldt98 @xiisblogs @mad-die45 @readingthingy @actualpoppy @amongthe141 @whore4romance @thatghostlykid @syofrelief @avgdestitute @sheepdogchick3 @echo9821 @imalapdog @foxintheferns @trulovekay @preeyas-world

[toygoldenfreddygal]

I think that this should be a reminder on why we need pride month. To celebrate the person hood of the living and to give a chance for us to remember and mourn the dead. Because we only recently got that luxury and sometimes not even then. We need the chance to live our own lives and to not forget the people that never got that chance. Do better than the people that were supposed to have.

The largest mass shooting in American history was a hate crime against gay people. Don’t ever forget that.

[thelostconsultant]

Oscar Piastri x reader

Summary: Oscar finds out he has a son, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to be the father he deserves.

Note: Oscar is in his early 30s in this. Also, I've been going through the trash can (exported posts from the old blog), so most of it might be familiar.

“We would like to meet Oliver’s father. His biological father,” the principal clarifies as he glances over at your boyfriend. You’ve been together for three years, he has been by your five-year-old’s side for over half his life, why isn’t he enough?

But he insists on meeting him, saying if he was dead and you could prove it, or if your boyfriend was your husband, they would move on with the enrollment, but you have confirmed that you aren’t married and the biological father is alive, so now they want to have a chat with him. He doesn’t even care about the tiny little detail that said father has absolutely no idea he has a child. 

What a bunch of morons.

In the evening, while your son is reading a book about cars in his bed with your boyfriend, you sit by the dining table with your phone in hand, trying to figure out what to do. This fancy private school is perfect, they know how to handle intelligent kids like Oliver, and you want the best for him. You want to make sure he doesn’t get bored, that he will get the kind of intellectual challenge in school that he needs.

At the age of five, he can read on his own just fine, he even learned some Spanish from your boyfriend, and he’s a quick study in general. It’s infuriating how he’s a mini version of his father, from his intelligence to his looks, everything reminds you of him. 

And if you meet F1 fans together, someone surely goes, “He looks so much like Piastri at his age!” Sadly, that isn’t a coincidence, and the poor kid picked up on the whole you-look-like-him thing and chose him as his favorite driver.

Sometimes you consider telling him. Oliver, not Oscar. God, there’s no way you will ever tell him the truth. He has his own, certainly busy life and he probably doesn’t need a child in it. Yes, you saw the photos, he’s good with kids, but meeting one for a few minutes isn’t the same as having your own. 

Your son on the other hand can find out when he gets old enough to understand why you left and went no contact with his father. That was over five years ago anyway, so you had time to figure out what to do. Until then, you make sure the few photos of you and Oscar are stored somewhere safe in case he wants to see them when the time comes.

Now you are cornered, your hand forced by that damn principal. You have no idea if he’s still using that old social media profile of his, but you have to try. So, you take a deep breath and start a video call, deep down hoping he won’t answer. You aren’t ready to talk to him, not yet, but you have no choice. And then his face shows up on your screen, the sight bringing back memories you’ve been trying to forget for years.

“Hey. Are you sure it’s me you wanted to call?” he asks, although there’s a hint of a smile on his lips.

Nodding, you let out a sigh. “Hi. Yeah, um… I don’t even know where to start.”

“At the beginning?”

Silence follows his words, your brain in overdrive as it try to find the best way to start. But maybe being straightforward is the right answer. “I have a son. He’s five,” you add, hoping the meaningful look you’re sending his way can be seen over the screen.

After a few seconds of heavy silence, you can see the wheels turning in his head as he does some math. “Wait, five? We… That was a bit over five years ago. Could he…?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. “He’s your son.”

His face is emotionless for a while as he tries to process the news, but this is nothing new, he’s the king of hiding emotions. But then, just as you think he will end the call, he lets out a sigh. “Why now? What do you want from me? Money?” he asks, although you can tell he’s unsure about this whole situation.

The fact he assumes you want money only makes you angry. “It’s not your money I need. Hell, I don’t even want you to meet him,” you snap. “The thing is, there’s this private school I want to send him to, and they have this stupid rule to have both parents present at a parental interview. Since my boyfriend and I never got married, they want to see the biological father. That’s all I want. A meeting with the principal.”

Oscar puts up a finger as he bites on his lower lip, his eyes focusing on something behind his phone’s camera. “Let me get this straight. After all these years, you say I have a son, but I’m not allowed to meet him?” he then asks, looking back at you.

“Yeah.”

“One meeting,” he then states, his voice serious. “You let me meet him once and I’ll talk to that principal.”

“Oscar, come on.”

“That’s the deal I can offer.”

You don’t have a choice, you know that. If he doesn’t do it for Oliver, he will have to go to another school. Letting out a sigh of defeat, you nod. “But we don’t tell him that you’re his father. He watches F1, and since he looks a lot like you, he decided that you’re his favorite driver. That’s all you’re gonna be, nothing more.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I,” Oscar begins hesitantly, and you can see as he sits down on his couch and looks up at the ceiling. “You just told me I had a son. What do you want from me, to forget it? I want to meet him. I want him to know who I am.”

“He’s five. If he finds out, he’ll want to see you again. He will want you to be a part of his life. I don’t want that.”

You can see he’s uncertain about this. He probably understands that becoming his father would mean he will have to regularly visit the two of you, and even if you all kept it a secret, there is still the risk of the truth slipping out and making it into the headlines. “Is he anything like me?” he suddenly asks, his eyes softening as he watches you. 

A smile creeps on your lips as you think about this, because it’s so painfully obvious to you that you can’t deny it, no matter how badly you want to do that. “He’s a highly intelligent little smartass, just like you. And his looks… A mini you, no doubt.”

Oscar nods. “Then I want to be a part of his life. Let me spend time with him,” he asks, seeming relaxed. 

“Two hours.”

“No, I’ll stay for a week, and I want to see him every day,” he’s quick to clarify. “I can look out for him while you’re at work.”

Whatever happened to the idea of meeting Oliver once? That’s not what you have just discussed, and now he’s changing his demands? “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” is all you say in the end.

“You said it yourself, I’m his favorite driver,” he points out with a smug smile. “We’ll be fine.”

You are doing this only because of the school. You remember what Oscar can be like; if he makes up his mind about something, he definitely isn’t about to let his plan go. Now he wants a week with his son, and you know that’s the only way he will do what you need from him. “All right. Can I send you the school’s number so you can make an appointment? I told them you travel a lot, so they’ll need to be flexible.”

“Sure, I’ll call them as soon as I can.” You thank him, and are just about to say goodbye when he speaks up again. “Wait, can you send me a photo or a video?”

“Yeah, I have a few hundred of those,” you reply with a smile.

Oscar remains silent, but he lets out a sigh and you know something is on his mind, something he wants to tell you. “I still have a hard time believing it, you know.”

“You seemed pretty confident when it came to getting to know him.”

“I wanted to use my chance to corner you,” he admits. “But this? That I have a son? Hard to believe.”

“Well, he’s yours. You’ll understand it when you meet him,” you tell him kindly. 

After you say goodbye, you go up to check on Oliver and your boyfriend, but by the time you get there, they are sleeping soundly with the open book resting on your son’s chest. With a smile, you take the book and lean down to give both of them a soft kiss. You can’t help but wonder how your little family’s dynamics will change with Oscar’s presence. 

Well, it isn’t really your son you are worried about, the main issue is your boyfriend. Oscar is a famous F1 driver, someone your son idolizes, of course he feels threatened. You told him it would be okay, that you didn’t have feelings for him anymore, but he didn’t seem convinced. Maybe if they meet and he sees you are indifferent, he will finally trust you a lot more. One can hope, right?

A bit over a week later Oscar is sitting in his rented car in the school’s parking lot, thinking about how this conversation could go. According to you, they are aware of the fact he didn’t know Oliver existed until recently, so he hopes they don’t expect him to talk about what he’s like. Sure, over the past week he asked you about him, he wanted to prepare for meeting him, but they haven’t met in person. How could he know what to say? After taking a deep breath, he gets out and goes inside, feeling more nervous than he does when he’s getting in the car before a race.

If he’s this nervous now, what will he feel like before meeting his son? 

Spending years in a boarding school prepared him for this meeting, and the principal is everything he imagined him to be. He’s polite, not making a fuss over the fact he is–let’s say–famous. He even apologizes for the mess he caused, saying he understands it was probably quite a shock for him, but this is the protocol, and they can’t make an exception. Oscar keeps nodding, even assuring him it’s okay, although deep down he’s still confused and unsure of things. 

All of this despite his conversation with his mother, who was overjoyed when she saw a video of Oliver, saying he was truly just like him, and she couldn’t wait to have the chance to meet her grandchild in person. But she also told him maybe this was the best thing that could happen to him. Having a child is truly an experience, and since he was still five, they had the chance to have a wonderful relationship. “You say he loves F1. Just imagine how happy he would be if he could go to some race weekends with you. You could teach him so much about racing, and you could bond over that,” she said. 

After he parks in front of your house in the afternoon, Oscar goes to the trunk to get everything he brought with himself. From signed merch from both himself and Lando–just to be sure–to toy racing cars, he has a wide variety of gifts. Something will hopefully become a favorite, an item that he will keep close to himself. Maybe he went overboard, maybe he could’ve brought only one thing, but he had no idea what Oliver liked, so he couldn’t pick just one item. 

“Please, don’t tell me you brought all this for him.”

He looks up with a questioning hum, only to find you standing next to him on the sidewalk. Seeing you again brings back memories of your time together, of all of your little adventures during the short time you spent together, and he can’t help but wonder if you fled because you found out you were pregnant. If you didn’t leave him so suddenly, would things be different now? Would you be a big happy family? 

Clearing his throat, he flashes a sheepish smile at you. “I couldn’t choose,” he admits as he grabs the duffel bag and follows you to the front door. He can’t help but wonder what he can expect, and he has to ask you the most important thing. “Did you tell him that he was meeting his father today?” You nod. That’s good. “Is he excited?”

You bite on your lower lip as you watch him, clearly thinking about how to answer the question. But after a short break, you let out a sigh. “He’s a little confused, I think. My boyfriend, Alejandro, met him when he was only two, the three of us spent a lot of time together, and he moved in last year. Oliver… He assumed my boyfriend was his dad, which in a way he is, but we had to sit him down and explain the situation to him,” you say, looking sad all of a sudden. 

It’s clear now why you were so against telling Oliver the truth. You want him to be close to your boyfriend, and you’re probably afraid things between them will change once he gets into the picture. Maybe you’re even afraid things between you and your boyfriend will change too. He can’t blame you for that, but now that he knows he has a son, Oscar wants to be a part of his life. He doesn’t want to be some asshole who ignored his own blood. 

Once inside, he puts the bag on the floor and follows you to the living room where Oliver is watching some cartoon on TV. Now that he sees him in person, he feels warmth spread through his body, because this kid looks exactly like he did at his age. You clear your throat next to him to get your son’s attention, and when the kid notices him, his eyes grow wide from surprise. He gets off the couch and slowly walks over to them, his eyes never leaving his face as he tries to process who their guest is. 

“Hello, Oliver,” Oscar says as he crouches down. 

“You’re Oscar Piastri!” he yells excitedly. 

Oscar can’t help but chuckle at this. “I am.”

You reach out to ruffle your son’s hair, then lean down to be on somewhat eye level with him. “Honey, remember when I said your daddy was going to jump in to see you?” The little boy nods. “It’s Oscar. He’s your dad,” you tell him softly.

Suddenly the excitement is replaced by disbelief, his eyes darting back and forth between the two of you as he tries to process what he’s just been told. The corners of Oscar’s lips curl into a smile as he watches him, waiting patiently for the child’s decision. 

“So he’s my dad?” Oliver asks, earning a nod from you. “Does this mean I’m a Piastri?” It’s Oscar’s turn to nod. “Mom, why am I not called Piastri?”

His eyes move over to you just in time to see you gulp, clearly having trouble figuring out what to say to that. He can’t blame you for your confusion, it probably haven’t occurred to you that one day you will have to respond to this question. 

With a kind smile, he puts a hand on your arm, then turns to his son. “Because I’ve been away for a little too long. But I’m here, your mom and I can discuss if we could change that if you want,” he finishes, barely daring to glance up at you, expecting to meet an angry look in your eyes.

But you don’t look angry, if anything, you seem relieved that he came to your rescue. There’s a glint in your eyes, though, that tells him you aren’t happy that Oliver brought up his surname. As he thinks about it, it occurs to him that you have mentioned how you considered your boyfriend to be his father in a way, so maybe you will have rather given him his name. 

You place a soft kiss on your son’s head, then inform him that you will leave the two of them alone so they can get to know each other. Father and son watches you leave the room, then he turns back to the child with a smile. “I brought you some things. Wanna see them?” he asks him, and when the little boy nods, he goes to grab his bag. 

As he opens the zipper, Oliver stands by his side, watching his every move with a happy smile on his face. Oscar pulls out the gifts, one by one, and can’t hold back his laugh as he watches his son proudly wearing his new baseball cap and shirt as he examines the toy car in his small hands. He begins to talk about the last race, excitedly recounting the most memorable moments, including the end when his father crossed the finish line first. His big brown eyes turn to him, then he says that he’s so happy he’s here. 

When he wraps his short arms around him, Oscar does the same and even presses a kiss on the kid’s head. There is undeniably a certain connection between them that he can’t explain, but they both know it’s there, otherwise his son probably wouldn’t be this chill with the idea of being alone with a stranger. Okay, that and the fact he’s his favorite driver.

They sit down in the middle of the living room, and Oliver decides to talk about his favorite books, proudly telling his father that he knows how to read, and that, according to you and your boyfriend, he’s really good at it. “The other kids can barely read yet,” he says with a smug smile, “and I’m already learning math!”

“Do you know how to play chess?” Oscar asks him, but the boy only shakes his head. “I should teach you. I started when I was younger than you, and my mom refused to play with me after a while.”

“Because you were so good?” 

With a shrug, he stretches his arms above his head. “I don’t know, but I guess I was better than her. Not sure about other people, though,” he admits with a warm smile.

Oliver lets out a thoughtful hum. “Is she as awesome as my mom?” he suddenly asks, looking back at him. 

A laugh escapes him at the thought, which makes his son tilt his head to the side in question. “That depends on who you ask. She loves to embarrass me online, which isn’t always a good thing, but I love her, she’s the best mum I could ask for. And there are a lot of people, especially my fans, who absolutely adore her for this gentle bullying,” he adds with a laugh.

“My mom would never do that,” Oliver states, his little nose scrunching at the thought. “She loves me too much.”

The two of them spend the next hour or so talking, sometimes stopping when the little boy gets distracted by something he caught on TV. But he seems interested, he wants to learn as much as he can, and it’s true the other way around, because Oscar asks a lot of questions too. He hasn’t even noticed how much time have passed until you walk in to tell your son it’s time for dinner, a statement that comes with the question whether or not his dad is allowed to stay. 

You don’t let him stay, saying he’s probably tired from traveling so much, then give him a begging look to make him speak up too. Oscar lets out a sigh and forced a smile on his face. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll be back tomorrow. I’m staying for a few days and your mum let me come to see you every day,” he says happily. “In fact, I’ll be looking out for you tomorrow while she’s at work. How does that sound?”

Oliver squeals from happiness before he hugs you both, thanking you over and over again for letting him come over. “Can we go to the zoo?” he asks with bright eyes as he looks over at his father. 

“Sure, whatever you want,” Oscar responds with a nod. 

“Okay, time to wash your hands, Alejandro will be home soon, so we can start to eat,” you ask your son. Once he says goodbye to Oscar and disappears, you turn to him with a forced smile. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

With a sigh, he steps closer to you. “You were right, he’s a lot like me,” he begins quietly, then stops to consider what to say. 

He knows deep down that you want him to stay away, you don’t want him to ruin the balance of your little family, but how can he give you that after getting to know his son? Oliver is his blood, he’s truly a mini version of him, there’s no way he will turn his back on him now. 

You know. After all these years, despite your time together being so short, you still know him well enough to know what was going on in his head. “Just don’t break his heart, okay?” you ask, earning a nod from him. “Thanks for… everything. Tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow. Have a good night.”

“Are you a hundred percent sure you want to take him to the zoo?” his mother asks later that day when he calls her. 

Despite being excited to hear everything about her grandson, she seems a little uncertain since hearing about his plan for the next day. Oscar, obviously, knows the problem. Oliver looks just like him, if people see them together—and they will, there’s always someone who recognizes him—the rumors will spread like wildfire along with some photos to prove it. 

And then some journalist will figure out he’s your son, and they’ll check every paparazzi photo of him with his past girlfriends. 

So, yeah, he knows the risks, but deep down he doesn’t care. And if they find out, then what? He likes this kid, he wants to be a part of his life, he wants to be the kind of father Oliver deserves. 

“Sooner or later the secret would be out, Mum,” he points out.

She lets out a sigh. “Yeah, but are his mother and her boyfriend ready for this?” 

Crap. This he selfishly didn’t consider.

The two of them chat a little longer, and this time he’s willing to listen to a lecture and some advice without interrupting his mother. He needs all the help he can get at this point. Anything to make the right decision at the end of the day.

Two hours later he’s standing in front of your house, leaning against the side of the car with his phone in hand. His thumb hovers over your name as he’s trying to decide whether or not to call you at this time of the night. 

The clock says it’s almost midnight. Maybe you’re already sleeping, maybe—

“Oscar?”

His head snaps up, and he sees you stand in the door. Gulping, he pushes himself away from the vehicle and walks over to you. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but we need to talk,” he says.

You nod. “Okay, I’m all ears.”

And then he explains everything; the zoo, the possibility of the world finding out his connection to Oliver, the rumors, the gossip sites, the scrutiny. This is more than what you went through while dating him, and it will affect all three of you.

He can see the exact moment you understand the weight of it all, he sees the way the blood drains from your face and you rub your eyes with the heel of your palms. 

This is the point where you’ll say that’s enough, Oscar’s sure of it, but then tears appear in your eyes, and he instinctively cups your face to force you to look at him. He doesn’t have to ask anything, you start to talk without his question.

“Alejandro moved out. Temporarily, at least that’s what he said. Oliver… He kept talking about you, about how cool it is that you’re his father, and he got a little upset that I didn’t point out he was technically a stranger unlike the man who’s been raising him.”

With a sigh, Oscar pulls you into a hug. “It’s gonna be okay. I can talk to him if you want me to,” he offers. 

You look him in the eye, then shake your head. “No, and… I think you shouldn’t be around Oliver either. Birthday, Christmas, one visit during the summer break. The only times you can see him,” you state quietly. 

“What? No!”

“Do what’s the best for him. Please.”

For a moment, Oscar hesitates. Yes, he understands your point, but he doesn’t want to let go of his son. Not now that he knows what a cool kid he has. Anger slowly takes over, and before he can stop himself, he says, “Don’t want me to start a custody battle,” he says. 

“Come on, you travel around the world for the best part of the year, you’re single as far as I know, no judge would give you custody.”

He’s not like this, he barely loses his temper, but now he’s so angry he might blow up. “Why do you have to complicate things every single time?!” he spits. “I’ll talk to your boyfriend and put an end to this nonsense. He’ll have to accept that I’m here, and I’m here to say. Damn it, I’ll even move here if that’s the only way I can be around Oliver.”

This leaves you speechless, and then you just slap him across the face and march back inside the house. 

Well, that’s not what he expected. 

[vampiresbloodx]

Taste of you (Natasha Romanoff x Reader)

synopsis; Youre Tony Stark's assistant, and Natasha loves wanting things she cant have.

words; 1.1k

warnings; sexual tension, bathroom sex, rough sex, fingering, oral (r! receiving), top!natasha x bottom!reader, CEO!natasha, teasing

a/n; I miss my girl

Tonight the room was packed full of party guests that were invited by the host, Mr Stark himself.

You didn’t like going to these types of parties at all, too many people, faces you don’t know and those you’re supposed to know and be friendly with, since you’re a part of the team, you kind of have to go, to show that you’ve come.

You wondered how Tony even knows so many people, then you sometimes forget how famous his family name really is, same with names like Romanoff, Rogers, Carter, all the higher up and the wealthy. 

Speaking of Romanoff, you have yet to see Natasha tonight, you haven’t spotted her amongst the crowd, she was a business associate of Stark industries, though it almost seemed like the two of them were close. Like they were friends. 

Natasha was the CEO of her own company that she took over not that long ago, it seems everything has been going better since the last guy that tried to overthrow her. 

“You seem spaced out” a voice startles you out of your head as you turn and see Natasha herself standing before you, she looked gorgeous, you couldn't help but let your eyes wander over her body. 

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I guess so” you say, you were never unsure of what to say to her, “You look nice tonight, Miss romanoff.” 

“Please, call me Natasha, we’ve known each other for quite some time now, haven’t we?” there's a glint in her eye the way she speaks, you wonder what she’s thinking about. 

“Yes, Natasha.” 

She nodded, pleased. 

“It looks like Tony is off drunk, again” she mutters, shaking her head as she takes a sip of her wine, you can’t help but stare and watch the way her lips wrap around the edge of the glass, her lipstick not leaving one stain. 

“Work isn’t finished for me, though” you sigh, a guy carrying a tray of champagne comes up to you both, you take one. 

Her gaze on you the entire time, your heart beating so loud you were afraid she could hear it with how close she was standing. You’re trying to not sneak glances so much, you can’t help it, you’ve always found her beautiful, effortlessly stunning in every way, she always has you captivated whenever she walks into the room, she has your full attention, she can make you do whatever she wants you to do. 

You thought it was all in your head, that she’d never find you attractive or want you the same way you wanted her, turns out, you were wrong. 

She was full of surprises. 

Natasha would often come to stark industries to visit and have simple conversation with Mr. Stark, you’d find yourself trying to listen in on whatever they were talking about but you could never get anywhere, she was good at that, no matter how hard you tried to spy on her, she was always one step closer. 

She’d come to see you, alone, when everyone had gone home for the day, you felt like you were being tested, with how she’s leaning against your desk, sometimes even sitting on it, so casually, as she made small talk, it made you go insane knowing she always had the upper hand.

You excuse yourself when another man had come up to talk with her, you weren’t even sure if they had noticed you left anyways, escaping from the party to go to the bathroom. 

You splashed some water on your face, everything felt hot, too hot. You wanted to take off your clothes but you still had a party to attend even with Tony gone wherever he went. 

You were leaning over the sink, staring at your reflection in the mirror as you didn’t even hear the door opening. 

In the mirror you saw Natasha’s eyes meet yours, you gasp as you turn around, walking backwards, your back hitting the walls as she steps closer to you, purposely trapping you. 

She leaned in, you held your breath, feeling hers on your neck as she was that close, you could almost kiss her. 

“I wish I had gotten to you before Stark did” she chuckles, a shiver going down your spine as your hands try to get a hold of whatever you can around you to steady yourself. “I swear he just got you to shove it in my face, I want you all to myself” she whispers, your body was still, you didn’t want to move not one bit, afraid she’d leave you. 

She caresses your face with her hand, god they're soft, softer than you imagined, you wanted them so badly around your throat, even more. 

“How would stark feel if I kidnap his cute little assistant for one night? Hm? You think he’d mind?” she says, tilting her head to the side as you stare into her eyes. 

“No.” 

“No?” she laughed, “oh so you want me to take you away? How adorable” she pouts, gripping at your chin, she grins, leaning in more as you feel her lips on your neck, you whine, wanting to touch her, but she wouldn’t let you just yet. She teased you, sucking on your neck, as she kissed down your chest. 

She grabs you by the legs and lifts you up, as you wrap yourself around her, she pushes you against the sink, kissing harder, her hands roaming your body, like you were hers, her property, you were hers, more than anything. 

Natasha forces your legs apart, pushing your dress up and taking your underwear off, your chest heaving as you watch her, wondering if this was all a dream, you couldn’t believe what was happening. 

She placed her hand on your thigh, you gasped, feeling her mouth on you, her tongue licking up your cunt as you moaned, you tried to move and she wouldn’t let you, keeping a tight grip on you, she wrapped her lips around your clit, you bit down, trying to keep quiet but it was hard with her touching you like this, it made you dizzy. 

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was something else. 

You weren’t sure, you didn’t want her to stop. 

“Please” you whimpered.

“Please what?” she murmurs, her gaze locking onto yours, she liked the sight of you, your head thrown back, moaning like a mess for her as you desperately tried to keep yourself together, knowing anyone could walk in at any moment. 

She didn’t care. 

“Please let me come” you whined, biting down on your lip as she places her thumb on your clit, rubbing it in circles, fast, you tried grinding down on her hand and that caused her to stop. 

“No, please”  you begged, “touch me.” 

Her mouth returns to your dripping cunt, she pushes a finger inside you, fucking you hard and rough as you gaped, gripping the edge of the counters, she could feel you tightening around her.

“Come for me, my pet.”

she sent you over the edge, your body shaking as you came, your sweet juices melting down from her mouth, you were lost in a daze.

and she held you captive. 

[izzih22]

Chapter 5

The Day Everything Changed

Note: last chapter… hope yall like it!!

The apartment was quite a different kind of quiet.

Not lazy or tired. Not even peaceful. Just… still.

Azzi sat on the edge of the bed in one of Paige’s oversized UConn hoodies, hands resting on her belly like she was holding something sacred. Which she was.

Paige was brushing her hair from behind, slow and careful, like if she moved too fast, she’d miss something important.

“I don’t think I’m gonna sleep,” Azzi murmured.

Paige smiled gently, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. “That’s okay. I’ll stay up with you.”

“You’ve been staying up with me.”

“I’ll stay up forever if I have to,” Paige whispered. “You’ve carried our baby for nine months. I can carry some lost sleep.”

Azzi turned to look at her. “You don’t say it often, but I know you’re scared.”

Paige didn’t pretend otherwise. “I am.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve never wanted something so much in my life,” Paige said softly. “I’ve never loved someone the way I love you. And now we’re about to meet the person we made — the person you grew. I just… I don’t want to mess it up.”

“You won’t.”

“I might cry more than the baby.”

Azzi smiled. “You will.”

They lay down together, face-to-face. Paige’s hand never left her belly. Azzi’s legs tangled with hers. They talked about names again. Paige changed her favorite five times. Azzi told her to stop picking things like “Rebound” and “And-One.” But Paige just loved hearing Azzi laugh knowing she was only kidding.

And sometime around 3 a.m., Paige whispered, “We’re ready.”

Azzi nodded. “We’re ready.”

⸻

It Broke with a Splash

7:41 a.m.

Azzi’s gasp jolted Paige out of the deepest sleep she’d had in weeks.

Then came the sound.

A soft splash, followed by “Oh my God.”

Paige bolted upright. “Was that—”

Azzi was standing near the bed, frozen, hand resting protectively over her bump.

“My water just broke,” she whispered.

Paige stared. Blinked once. Then—

“OH MY GOD. IT’S HAPPENING. IT’S HAPPENING. THIS IS REAL.”

She jumped out of bed, nearly slipped, caught herself, sprinted for the hospital bags, then spun back around.

“SHOES. DO YOU HAVE SHOES? DO YOU NEED A TOWEL? DO WE CALL THE HOSPITAL OR DO WE JUST GO? DO I DELIVER THE BABY MYSELF IF THEY’RE LATE—”

“Paige!” Azzi called, steady but amused.

Paige skidded to a stop, eyes wide. “Yes?”

“I need your help.”

That was all it took.

Paige was at her side in an instant, her hands on Azzi’s hips, her voice quiet now. “You okay? Is it starting?”

Azzi breathed through a tightening cramp. “I think so.”

“Okay. Okay.” Paige grabbed her phone with one hand, held Azzi close with the other, and opened their Family Group Chat:

PAIGE: HER WATER BROKE

PAIGE: THE BABY IS COMING

PAIGE: I REPEAT—THE BABY. IS. COMING.

AZZI’S MOM: We’re getting in the car.

PAIGE’S MOM: I’m already crying.

GRANDMA: Bringing banana bread.

AZZI’S DAD: I’m driving and praying.

Then she flipped to the UConn Girls Chat:

PAIGE: IT’S TIME

PAIGE: THE BABY IS COMING. AZZI IS A WARRIOR.

PAIGE: I’M LOSING MY MIND

CAROLINE: Y’all better name the baby after me

ICE: I CAN’T BREATHE

NIKA: DO YOU NEED US TO COME NOW

KK: OMG OMG OMG

PAIGE: JUST SEND PRAYERS AND ENERGY. I’LL UPDATE. GAHHH

⸻

It Climbed in Waves

They got to the hospital with time to spare but the adrenaline didn’t slow down.

Paige was pacing the delivery room like she was about to coach a national title game.

Azzi was in bed, calm but focused, working through each contraction.

And Paige? Paige was chaos in a hoodie.

“She needs more water. She likes it cold but not too cold. Can you lower the lights a bit? She hates the buzz from those kinds of bulbs. Also, don’t forget her birth playlist. We made a playlist. It has SZA and Luther Vandross on it—”

Azzi grabbed her hand.

Paige stopped talking immediately.

Azzi’s eyes fluttered open. “You’re doing amazing.”

Paige blinked. “Me? You’re literally in labor.”

“And you’re right here.”

Paige kissed her forehead. “Always.”

⸻

The first contraction caught Azzi off guard.

It wasn’t gradual. It slammed into her like a truck.

She doubled over, clutching her belly, face twisted in pain.

Paige was right there, holding her arm. “Breathe. Breathe through it. Just like we practiced, Az.”

Azzi tried, but her voice came out a sob. “It hurts, Paige.”

“I know, baby. I know.” Paige wiped her forehead gently. “You’re doing amazing. Just hold onto me.”

As the hours dragged on, the pain worsened. Azzi stopped speaking between contractions. Her body shook. Her grip on Paige’s hand turned desperate. Raw.

She couldn’t even form words at one point just broken sounds, moans, cries.

Paige held her.

Through every breath.

Through every scream.

She didn’t leave her side for a second.

“Paigey— I can’t—” Azzi sobbed through another one, her back arching. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can,” Paige said fiercely, her voice breaking. “You are doing it. You’re so strong, baby. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever seen. You’re everything.”

Azzi shook her head. “It’s too much—”

“I’ve got you. Just look at me,” Paige begged, brushing sweaty curls from her face. “You don’t have to do this alone. Not for a second. I’m right here.”

She gripped Paige’s hoodie and cried into her chest. Paige held her, whispering over and over, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

⸻

Her heart broke watching Azzi scream. Watching her body shake. Watching the woman she loved fight to bring life into the world.

And then—

After what felt like forever, the doctor’s voice came through the fog: “Okay, Azzi. One more push.”

Azzi cried out.

Paige squeezed her hand harder than she thought she could. “That’s it. That’s it, Az. You’ve got them. Bring them home.”

And then—

A wail.

A tiny, raw, perfect sound that cut through the room like lightning.

The room blurred.

Paige blinked.

Azzi gasped.

The doctor held up a tiny, wriggling, red-faced baby crying her lungs out, already fighting.

“She’s here,” someone said. “You have a daughter.”

Paige crumpled.

Just folded into herself and sobbed.

Not soft tears. Not a sniffle.

Real, full, body-wrecking sobs.

She leaned down and kissed Azzi’s forehead again and again, whispering through her tears, “You did it. You did it babygirl.”

Azzi was crying too. Quietly. Just watching Paige hold their baby for the first time, watching her hands tremble as the nurse gently placed the swaddled little girl into her arms.

Paige looked down at the baby, her eyes still flooded.

“She looks like you,” she whispered.

“She has your mouth,” Azzi whispered back.

Paige sat on the bed beside her, holding the baby in one arm, Azzi in the other.

“I love you,” she said, voice shaking. “Both of you so much.”

Azzi leaned into her. “I know.”

⸻

Later that night, the room had quieted. Visitors had come and gone. Their moms had cried. KK and Ice had FaceTimed, screaming. Caroline had made an unofficial godmother speech.

Now it was just them.

Paige. Azzi. Their daughter.

Paige cradled her against her chest while Azzi slept, exhausted but peaceful beside her.

She looked down at the baby girl in her arms tiny, warm, perfect.

“You don’t know me yet,” Paige whispered. “But I’m yours. Completely. You and your mama… you’re my whole world.”

The baby squirmed.

Paige smiled.

“I’m gonna mess up. I know that. But I’ll love you more than anything, and I’ll never stop showing up. You’re safe here. You’re so, so loved.”

She glanced at Azzi.

Still beautiful. Still the love of her life. Still the girl who changed everything.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For her. For this. For being mine.”

The baby sighed in her sleep.

Paige pressed a kiss to her tiny forehead.

And just like that… their story began again.

Not as two.

Not even as three.

But as everything.

Together.

Forever.

[rubyvhs]

HOLDING IT IN — multi

the jjk men hurt you and you don’t let out how much it really affects you. | 1.3k

includes: g.satoru & g.suguru & t.fushiguro & m.fushiguro. fem!reader, established relationship (dating/married), some hurt/no use comfort, kissing, lots of angst, use of pretty girl, and, baby, requests are open <3.

gojo satoru

you’re cooking with some music going in the background, smiling to yourself as you sing along lowly, you’re stirring the hot soup before strange hands touch your waist and you scream. oh fuck— you’re home alone—

“oh my god, baby,” satoru laughs, pulling you in closer and it takes you a minute before you even try to calm down. “hey, you here? i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you—”

“are you crazy?” you shout the second you’re thinking clearly again, moving away from his hold. “you leave for a week and all of a sudden your hands are on my waist, are you crazy? and i was cooking and— oh my god, our baby—” you think of your son upstairs, eyes widening. what would you have done had someone actually broken in? you could never get to him in time, he’s sleeping in today too.

“you’re overreacting, c’mon…” you let out a deep breath, glaring at him again except this time you see his hands turned outwards, like he’s expecting you to hug him and god, you want nothing more. he’s been gone for a week and it’s been hell for you and your four year old because it happens every two week. sometimes he doesn’t even get to spend three days at home before he’s gone again.

so you let go of the petty argument, though you don’t forget it, and jump into his arms. gojo laughs, the beautiful laugh you fell in love with, the one that you said yes to marry and when he asked for kids, the one you miss at night more often than not.

“god, i missed you,” he says into your hair before he lets you down, but he doesn’t move back. you pull back just enough to kiss him and he melts into it. just a few seconds after that you hear your little toddler coming down, yelling ‘daddy’s home, daddy’s home’ and both of you laugh before he reaches gojo and jumps into his arms. 

geto suguru

“you’re always home late.” suguru sighs before he even hears the rest of the sentence. “suguru, you can’t keep brushing me off just because you don’t like what i have to say.” but he does, not turning off the tv or pausing the film, just staring directly at it. you hate it. you hate this. you don’t like being ignored or disrespected and definitely not by someone who’s supposed to love you. 

you don’t add anything when you see that he doesn’t move, just walk away with a sigh, already feeling tears brim at your eyes. he fucking sucks sometimes. just as you reach the stairs, you hear suguru’s call of your name. when you face him, he’s already off the couch and walking over to you. “i didn’t mean to ignore you, pretty girl, i’m sorry.” you shrug, crossing your hands.

he’s close enough to reach out for you but he doesn’t. “i know i’m always home late, i’ll try to come earlier, can’t we just leave it at that?” 

“is that a promise or just you shutting me up?” he doesn’t respond, just tsks once and leans in to hug you. you lean your head against his chest, both hands limply on your sides. he’s trying his best, you know that. you don’t exactly support what he does but you love him no matter what happens, you don’t wanna hold it against him. you don’t wanna leave him and the girls, you can’t. 

and you don’t want to. suguru loves you in all the right ways, he’s always here for you, he’s the best husband you could ever dream of, but the way he treats you sometimes because of the jujutsu world is something you have to swallow. 

fushiguro toji

“you asshole!” you shout at him, throwing the vase  in your hand against the wall so hard it shatters right back into your own arm, but you don’t move. toji glances down for just a second to see your arm bleed before his eyes soften. you don’t usually let things get this far, actually, you never have. whenever toji would push you’d just calm the situation down, deescalate, but this time he’s not backing down.

you tried to calm him down but he’s being mean and he just doesn’t wanna listen to you. you’re apparently stupid and thoughtless, he’s insulting you instead of your ideas and it’s exhausting. 

“i am so fucking done with your words, toji, i’m done with you. if i’m so fucking stupid why don’t you find someone else to date then.” you can physically see your words getting through to him, him absorbing it, but it’s nowhere near as terrified as he should be. it’s something, though.

“i didn’t mean it like that.” but it’s not an i’m sorry. and you’ll have to live with it, apparently, because he makes you feel like he’s actually trying. god, this is confusing. you want time, you want space but toji just walks closer, takes your hand in his. “you’re bleeding. and you broke a vase.”

“well, only one of these things should matter.” 

“it does. you do. you matter so much to me, baby, you have to know that.” he reaches for the tissues behind you, pulling the small piece of glass out as you hiss in pain. he puts some pressure on it with the tissues and feels you relax underneath him. just having him close to you means everything. even if it doesn’t fix it.

fushiguro megumi

you don’t mind how unaffectionate megs is, you learned to get used to it your entire relationship, but it’s getting worse, not better. he promised he would work on it and try to at least not make it seem like you’re two friends; except tonight while you’re hosting all your friends in his apartment, where you’ve been staying every night for a month, you hold his hand mid-dinner just for him to drop it.

you know he isn’t being mean, you understand that he just feels better not having other people in his business, he hadn’t even told people he was dating you until you met them where he introduced you as his girlfriend. the point is, he keeps to himself and for good cause, you just hate not being close to him and how unaffected he seems to be by it. 

“megs,” you sigh a couple of minutes into putting the dishes into the sink. he’s kind of just there for the company, you don’t need help, “you, uh, you kind of did something during dinner and i just wanted to bring your attention to it, i guess. i know you didn’t mean anything by it—”

“i’m sorry,” he says, walking closer to you as you wash your hands, pulling your bottom teeth between your lips. he’s always sorry about it and he never changes, “i know, i know i’m supposed to be better at this.”

“it’s fine, i just— we need to find middle ground, otherwise it’s just draining and i want to be next to you, it helps calm me down and yet being next to me is something you don’t want.” it feels horrible to know your boyfriend doesn’t want to hold you every chance he gets and doesn’t want to show you off. it’s unlike what you’ve wished for in the love of your life and yet you can’t imagine your life with anyone but megumi.  

he moves close enough that he pushes your head up to face him. “i love you.” he doesn’t say it often so the smile on your face is involuntary and genuine. “so much.” he kisses you and you hope letting this go doesn’t mean it’ll be happening again, even if you don’t see it happening any other way. 

[blasphemyandbackshots]

I think we all need something for THE Number 1 much of MHA Kirishima 🙂‍↕️

ღ eijiro kirishima x you —break me; hold me

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. When you started dating Kirishima it was like a dream come true. He was perfect. A gentleman in his purest form. So manly. So supportive and full of life and love.

It was beautiful to watch him, to see him thrive and became everything he ever dreamed of. And you had been on his side the whole time. You dated quietly, without much social media presence, even when the love felt sometimes too much and you wanted to scream it out to the world.

A relationship so perfect that it almost scared you. He was all warmth, protective instincts and rock-solid devotion. The kind of man who always called you ‘babe’ with that crooked grin. Who wrapped you up in his big arms, after a long day on patrol, like he was shielding you from the world.

But this kind of love couldn’t stay undiscovered for long. You’re both pro heroes after all and it was only a matter of time.

First, it was just a few comments on social media how Red Riot kept hiding you and if he did it on purpose. Not out of concern for you, and if he could cheat, but them calling you not ‘flashy’ enough. Not ‘manly’ enough for the sheer force that Eijiro Kirishima was.

It turned into whole tabloid drama and always the question why you didn’t date and love in the broad daylight. Why why why. And slowly, those questions, those doubts, crept into your mind too. Of course it had been a mutual decision back then, but now it tugged on your heartstrings. Especially since Kirishima ignored the whole drama and didn’t mention it once to you.

It happened on a Saturday then. Kirishima had been buzzing with excitement, because you had two whole days off, until he saw the expression on your face.

“I need space.” You whispered. “Maybe—I mean—you deserve someone like you. Someone strong. Maybe this—us—is a mistake.”

To say he was crushed would’ve been an understatement. He was wounded beyond words, because his whole life he’d work to be someone people can lean on. And the person he wanted to carry slipped through his fingers like sand.

He gave you exactly fourty-eight hours before he knocked on your door. You hadn’t expected him to come. Not like this. Not straight from patrol. He was still in his cracked armor with knuckles stained red from someone else’s blood. He looked like he’d fought through hell and barely made it out. Maybe that was exactly what this was.

“Why did you say that?” Kirishima asked the second you opened the door.

You couldn’t answer. Your throat was tight and all the things you wanted to say had curled up in shame these past two days.

He stepped inside before you could stop him, slamming the door shut behind him. “You think you’re not good enough for me?”

“I never said that—”

“You didn’t have to.” His voice cracked.

You turned your back. Your arms folded so tightly that nails bit in your skin. “I’m not flashy. I’m not strong like you,” you said quietly. “You’re Red Riot. Everyone loves you. And I—I’m just someone people forget about until they need help. I can’t keep up with you, Eiji. I never could.”

Silence. And then the sound of heavy boots, closing the space between you. He was behind you in an instant, broad chest radiating heat against your back.

“Don’t say that shit.” His voice was hoarse. “Don’t you ever say that again.”

You turned, ready to argue. But the way he looked at you, red eyes glossy and desperate, made your voice catch in your throat.

“I don’t want someone like me,” he said. “I want you. I love the way you think. I love the way you fight, even when no one’s watching. I love how you patch people up and never ask for anything back. You think I don’t see that? You think I don’t see you?”

Your lip trembled. “You don’t get it—people are saying things. That I’m just dragging you down. That I’m—”

“I don’t care what they say.” He grabbed your wrists in a firm but gentle hold, like he was grounding you. “Let them talk. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But I—”

“If you’re not strong enough,” he whispered, forehead pressing to yours, “then let me be strong enough for both of us.”

That shattered something in you. You took his perfect face in your hand and kissed him desperately. Your hands fisted in the front of his cracked armor, pulling him closer and closer. Kirishima kissed like he needed it, like every second without you had been agony. He kicked his boots off, hands sliding under your thighs and lifted you effortlessly. Your legs wrapped around him on instinct.

He carried you to the couch and sat with you straddling him, mouth dragging along your jaw, murmuring, “I got you. I always got you.”

Your shirt came off first, tossed aside in a haze of gasping breaths. Kirishima’s calloused hands mapped every inch of your skin like he was relearning it.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. “Every inch. Every piece. Mine.”

You shivered when he said that—mine—like it meant more than just body and heat. Like it meant your heart and soul. A silent forever.

His kisses grew slower. He kissed your chest, your shoulders, your stomach, worshipping you like a prayer. His fingers teased between your thighs, warm and steady and patient. You rocked against him, hips grinding down in quiet need. He was already thick and hot under you, pressing up against your middle, but he didn’t rush. Not tonight. Not when you were still trembling under his touch.

“You can cry if you want to,” he whispered against your neck. “You don’t have to be strong with me.”

And you did. You let yourself cry. Small, broken sobs that spilled as he slid inside you slow and deep. He stretched you so perfectly your whole body arched into him. He held you through every trembling breath, every wave of release. He moved in steady thrusts, strong arms locked around your waist, forehead resting against yours.

“You’re everything,” he whispered with every roll of his hips. “Everything I want. Everything I need.”

Your moans came softer, choked by emotion. You came with your face buried in his neck, gasping his name like it was the only word you remembered. He followed soon after, groaning deep in his chest, holding you tight like he could fuse your bodies together.

You stayed there, wrapped in him, hearts pounding in sync. His fingers traced soft shapes along your back.

“You’re not dragging me down,” he whispered. “You lift me up every day just by being here. You keep me grounded. You make me better.”

You didn’t answer at first. You just curled tighter into him, cheek resting over his chest. “I don’t want space anymore.”

His chest rumbled with a laugh. “Good. ‘Cause I wasn’t giving you any.”

[synity]

Hy there! i saw your post open arms and you're safe in my arm's and i love it!!! Can i request jun x reader girlfriend being focus with her friend and completely forgotten her boyfriend till jun being cute lil possessive trying separate them? Thank you!

COME BACK TO ME

(Wen Junhui x FemReader)

*Fluff, light angst, slice of life*

It started with a weekend plan that didn’t involve him.

Jun hadn’t minded at first. He knew how much Y/N loved her friends especially her childhood bestie who had flown in for a short visit. He encouraged her to spend time with them, even dropped her off at the café with a warm kiss on her forehead and a playful, “Don’t forget me, okay?”

But now, three days later, Jun sat on the couch in their shared apartment, pouting.

She hadn’t forgotten him… had she?

It wasn’t that she hadn’t texted at all. She had. A few good morning messages, the occasional photo of her and her friend at a restaurant or at the park. But he’d noticed the shift. The replies were slower, the calls shorter. Every time he asked, “When are you coming home?” she’d say, “Soon!” but soon never came.

Jun wasn’t the jealous type.

Well. He wasn’t usually.

But the image of Y/N laughing beside someone else, while he sat at home, missing her more with every hour, started chipping away at his calm composure.

He didn’t want to pull her away. He didn’t want to guilt trip her.

But he missed her. A lot.

And Jun never was the best at hiding his feelings when it came to her.

It was the fourth day when she finally came home past 9 PM, eyes sparkling with joy as she threw off her jacket and flopped onto the couch beside him.

“Oh my god, today was amazing,” she said, unaware of the slight pout on his face. “We went to the arcade, and then this retro diner—Jun, you would’ve loved it. I took so many photos.”

“Did you?” he asked quietly.

She turned to him, beaming. “Yeah! Wanna see—”

“Maybe later.”

She blinked, surprised. “Are you okay?”

Jun turned to her, finally letting the pout drop fully into a frown. “You haven’t really been around.”

Y/N tilted her head. “I told you I’d be busy this week.”

“I know. I told you it was fine,” Jun replied. “But I didn’t think ‘busy’ meant forgetting your boyfriend exists.”

Her smile faltered.

Jun sighed and stood up. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I just...” He hesitated. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she said gently, reaching for his hand. “But Jun, I was just spending time with my friend. It wasn’t intentional.”

“I know it wasn’t,” he said, voice softer now. “But I’ve been sitting here every night thinking about you. Meanwhile you’re out there laughing with someone else, and I… I guess I got a little jealous.”

She squeezed his hand, heart aching.

Jun sat back down beside her, curling slightly into her shoulder. “You were mine first, you know?”

Y/N stifled a laugh. “Are you… actually being possessive right now?”

Jun tilted his head, faux-offended. “Is that so hard to believe? I’m a boyfriend too, you know. I get clingy sometimes.”

“You’re cute when you’re clingy.”

“I’m always cute,” he muttered, and she giggled.

She cupped his face gently and turned him to look at her. “I’m sorry, Junnie. I didn’t mean to make you feel left out. You should’ve told me.”

“I didn’t want to make you feel guilty,” he mumbled. “You were happy, and I didn’t want to ruin that.”

“You wouldn’t have ruined anything,” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’re allowed to want my attention too.”

Jun softened, eyes drooping as he leaned fully into her now. “Then give me some.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Like now?”

“Now. Tomorrow. Every hour. Forever, ideally.”

She chuckled and shifted to pull him into a proper hug, and he instantly melted in her arms like he’d been waiting for that moment all week.

“I’m all yours tonight,” she whispered.

He nuzzled into her neck. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go again.”

Y/N paused. “...Did you really think I’d forget you?”

Jun pulled back and looked into her eyes earnest, quiet, and just a little shy. “No. But sometimes I forget I’m allowed to ask for you.”

Her heart ached in the softest way.

She kissed his forehead and said, “You don’t even have to ask.”

[azriona]

Okay, I am late to the party; in my defense, first day of summer break has been unexpectedly busy and it's not even close to over yet.

I like that my blog is full of variety. I like that you'll scroll and see a jokey commentary on life, followed by a x Reader fic, followed by a Leverage gifset, followed by a goofy Spiders Georg reference, followed by a call-to-action for some real lift shit, followed by a hot take with a hot response and an even hotter call-back, followed by a gorgeous hand-bound fanfic, followed by some amazing bit of costume lore, followed by a Rickroll. I know this means I'll never be included on a "who to follow for this specific niche content"... but you know what? That's okay. You guys knew what you signed up for; you know whatever my current fascination, you'll still get something enjoyable eventually. Tomorrow's content is the surprise in the middle of the Kinderegg, who the heck knows what it'll be, but you'll probably enjoy some part of it.

I like that I like my kids (and that my kids also like me). I think they do, anyway. My teen regularly comes to seek me out just for a chat, even if sometimes it's just to play mindgames. Yesterday he insisted on me downloading a game on my phone so we could play together. 🥰🥰🥰

I like my hair. Even if it's weird and grey at the root but golden at the ends. It's still super thick and sometimes curly and I like putting it in a weird ponytail-bun-thing when it's hot outside.

I like my sense of humor. I don't think everyone gets it sometimes, but I make me laugh anyway.

I like that I will always give someone the benefit of doubt. I think people are, essentially, always trying to do the right thing. Maybe your definition of the right thing is different than mine, maybe you're unable to see a larger picture, maybe you're focused on something I don't know about. I don't think most people are actively out to hurt anyone... not really. But I do think that people can change their minds and their actions, if you give them the space and the information and the opportunity to do so. I think people can always do better, and deserve the chance to be forgiven past transgressions and mistakes and ignorant words/opinions, even if those things cannot (should not!) be forgotten. (And maybe this doesn't apply to all things; I'm sure at least one person reading this is going "but you cannot possibly mean in this circumstance", and you're probably right. There's nuance and there's limits to forgiveness and doubt and all the rest, and there's definitely people I wouldn't forgive and don't plan to forget. But I think redemption should always, always be an option, even if it's rejected on both sides.)

And a bonus: I like that I find ways to break the rules. In this case, I'm actually going to bend them a bit, and go back to the original of sending asks. But if you don't get one from me, and you want to play: feel free to tag yourself anyway. 🥰😉😘

Firstly, when you get this, you have to answer with 5 things you like about yourself, publicly. Then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool)

Tysm!

Okay, this is gonna be difficult BUT

1) I like my hair

2) I like my eyes

3) I like my writing

4) I like my aesthetic

5) I like the fact I'm a bookworm

Instead of sending asks, I'll just tag my mooties/friends here!! ;

The sweet and coolbeanz you, @izumi-miffy

The one and only @3thereality

The awesomesauce @stareyeofficial @chuchucharlie @itzzkaylaaa @crazed-transbian-lunatic and @saturnidiot

My dear @finnosaurusladiesman217

And the love of my life, @h0neybun-xx

That makes 9 people but I don't have any more moots, so that'll suffice I think!

[s0s1mple]

Hi! I can't get Jungwon make ver. concept photo out of my mind esp the one where he's holding chainsaw. So, can I request a Yandere psychopath Jungwon where he's a serial killer and Y/N saw him while he's killing someone. Turns out Y/N is mute, and Jungwon took a liking of her and become obsessed with her. Thank you! hehehe

Wait this is such a good idea! Thank you for asking!

————

Curiosity Killed the Cat - Yang Jungwon

TW: general yandere behavior, somewhat graphic murder, mental instability

Masterlist

————

Today was hardly your first time meeting. Jungwon had seen you around before in passing, just as you’d seen him.

You worked as a florist, in a store just off the side of the woods that encompassed the north side of the town the both of you resided in. You didn’t work the desk but instead acted as the manual labor of the operation. Due to the lack of space in the small store, you often ended up arranging your bouquets and planting new bushes along the backside of the building, in the small alleyway that bordered the forest. Jungwon too frequented this path, and as such the two of you had seen and politely nodded and smiled to each other on many occasions before promptly forgetting about the interaction entirely.

But not this afternoon’s interaction. No, no, no…

Jungwon had an itch, you see. A sort of crawling, borderline hysteric feeling that would sometimes rise up inside him. He didn't know where it came from, was never able to identify it since it rose up in mid-childhood, but no matter how hard he'd initially tried to fight it, something always broke. A violent glee, a demented sort of excitement, thrill at the sight of blood and gore. Intrigue at the sight of despair and the complex emotions on the faces of his victims before they died.

Jungwon eventually decided to stop fighting that feeling. Instead he embraced it, and Jungwon became a predator. Meek and polite and smiley during the day, savage and terrifying and just as smiley during the night.

And tonight, like many nights before, Jungwon had to soothe that itch. How else could he maintain his perfect innocent facade, after all? So he picked someone he didn't particularly care for- a runner who jogged just a tad too close to dusk for his own good- and took him off the path in a clean movement.

He struggled of course, tried to yell out before Jungwon shoved a rag in his mouth, but it was no use. Jungwon may have a soft face, cute dimples and eyes that made all the local grandmas coo at him, but he was strong. Way stronger than this wiry runner, at least. Into the bushes he dragged him, the male thrashing, eyes wide and pleading. Jungwon pulled him all the way over to a clearing deeper in the forest, about three hundred feet from the town, and shoved him into the dirt.

"Hi there. I'm Jungwon. I don't think we've met." He smiled down at the male, pinning him with a knee at the sternum as he reached over his shoulder. He slid his pack off his shoulder and unzipped it. "We should get to know each other. I'm pretty good at reading people... bet I can tell which of these you'll prefer." Jungwon reached in, pulling out a knife. He unsheathed the hunter's blade, the metal gleaming wickedly in the pale moonlight filtering through the trees.

The runner screamed through the gag, thrashing harder, and Jungwon hummed.

"You don't like this one? How about this one?" Out came a handsaw, a buzzsaw for small tree limbs that Jungwon had chosen upon learning how quiet it could be.

And how destructive.

The resulting tears on his victim's cheeks made Jungwon smile. "Oh, looks like we have a winner!"

And then it began. Soft whirring, grinding bone and shredding flesh, hoarse screams muffled by the rag shoved halfway down his prey's gullet. Jungwon giggled and prodded at him, showing him each piece removed, setting them off to the side in a neat pile to be disposed of later.

By the time he passed out- or maybe passed away- Jungwon's hands were slick with rapidly cooling blood and his shirt more than likely needed to be burned. He patted at the male's cheek, cooing for him to wake up, that playtime wasn't over, and-

A branch cracked behind him.

Jungwon's head whipped around to see you, startled and stumbling, as you whipped around to try and run for the help that was so close by. You tripped, though, slamming into the earth and giving him enough time to lunge to his feet and tackle you against the base of a tree.

He expected you to scream out, to wail as you hit the ground, to do anything, as he primed his hand and wrestled you to face him so he could silence you.

But you didn't. Jungwon's shoulders relaxed, tension and fear at being caught melting away, because you were staring at him with wide, teary eyes yet weren't making a single sound. It was... strange. Fascinating. Cute, almost, the way you heaved in breaths and your pulse rabbited against where his thumb pressed into your throat. He recognized you then, vaguely. "It's you." He mumbled.

Jungwon, as previous stated, hadn't paid you much attention. Had marked you down passively as being attractive, as being quiet and hardworking as you hoisted heavy bags of soil and potted plants whenever he saw you. But now was the first time he really saw you.

And you weren't saying a word.

Were you in shock? Jungwon held the base of your head firmly, legs boxing you in against the roots of the tree your fingers clutched at so desperately, and peered closely at you. "Were you working late? Did you hear something? Is that why you came to investigate? Maybe I'll have to move deeper into the forest next time then... What's that saying? Something about a cat?" He mused passively. His palm cupped along the side of your face, ready to cover your mouth at a moment's notice, but for some reason he wanted to see if you'd talk. If you'd scream. What would you sound like? Would your voice be just as pretty as the rest of you, so beautiful under the moon?

Again, you didn't respond. Your mouth moved, gaping and closing as you tried to fight your gasping, panicked breaths.

"Don't tell me I scared you silent. That'd be boring." He mumbled, tilting his head. His eyes slid to your hands then, still wrapped tight around the roots like you were trying to claw away from him. Your fingers were moving, trembling, not quite forming symbols but definitely twitching around oddly. Like there was some sort of habit there. A thought occurred to him. Had he every actually talked to you before? He was sure he'd said hello a couple of times.

But had you responded?

Jungwon pinched your arm harshly, expecting you to cry out in pain. Your mouth opened, a gust of wheezing breath escaped, but there was no noise at all. Were you...?

"Can you tell me your name?" He asked finally, tone shifting from something predatory and dangerous to something much more akin to his daylight persona. Something you were familiar with, like he was trying to coax you into letting your guard down. You swallowed thickly, tears gathering in your eyes, and he watched as after a few long seconds your hand raised slightly.

Clench, unclench, and a few more motions he wasn't familiar with. He smiled at you, eyes crinkling, and his palm relaxed against your jaw. Less cautious, more intrigued. "Sorry, I don't know sign language. But I'm sure we can get to know each other some other way." He said, peering into your watery gaze. If you could make noises properly, he was sure you'd be whimpering. But instead you just sniffled, nose twitching in a way that reminded him so much of a bunny-rabbit.

"Shh, it's alright. I'm Jungwon, you know. We should get to know each other, don't you think?" He echoed the words he'd spoken earlier that night with a smile so similar, yet just barely softer, more genuine at the edges. He picked up a nearby rock, and you trembled and thrashed. "We'll talk later. Or I'll talk, I guess. Sleep tight!"

Wham.

Not too hard, not too soft, you were out like a light. Interestingly, you let out small snores almost instantly. So silent when awake, but snoring and curling in on yourself instinctively when knocked out cold. Jungwon pet your hair, blood catching on the strands and dying it darker, and tilted his head at your form.

You were... interesting. And with his itch sated for the night, he hardly wanted to get rid of someone so intriguing. He stood up, eyeing the body to his left, and stretched his back.

Cleanup time, then the two of you could retreat to his home and get cleaned up yourselves. He'd have plenty of time to research sign language then, and even more time to learn about you. The idea of doing such a thing curled in his chest like a sated cat, purring and warming his insides, scratching an already sated itch.

He whistled to himself, happier than he'd been in a long, long time.

[appleblueberry-pie]

To You, My Love.

In which the reader is a powerful sorcerer with yandere! geto having her as his muse. But there's a twist to this story....how would he feel if his girl had mutual feelings for him?

Geto had many pent up emotions at the moment. Fear, nervousness, excitement and joy. He finally found you. After so many years of following your cursed energy remnants around, finding random artifacts that you accidentally left behind, he finally found you. You lived a few towns away from the Jujutsu Technical High School. Far enough for no questioning as to where you work and to simply be off-grid in some way.

But after so long, some part of him just didn't want to deal with the semantics and would just kidnap you to be with him for the rest of your lives. But another part of him wanted a moment to actually speak with you. Hear you, see you, possibly get closer to you before anything crazy happens. He wants peace and small improvements, no big jumps. He wants to take his time with you. Which is exactly why he decided to visit you alone. Dressed regularly, yet appropriate for the moment, he scanned the area with his curses before deciding the best way to break into your house. He already knows your schedule.

You came home a couple of hours ago and you just finished dinner around this time. Even if you gotten take out, you would've also finished that dinner around this time and is possibly getting ready for bed. When he snuck in, the first place he realized he was in, is in your kitchen. It was a nice little area, definitely enough for you, but wanted to find your bedroom. Silent movements were made and no sounds came from inside the house. He would've almost questioned if you we're even here if he didn't know for sure.

Your bathroom had two doors. He went in through the first door and stopped there when he saw that the second door connected to your bedroom. The second bathroom door wasn't opened fully, but the second reason he stopped was because you were...right there. Kneeling. To a shrine.

A shrine made for him.

"........and sometimes, I think about when we used to be around each other more often," you started. You stared with intense emotion in your eyes. "I just...I missed when we had less responsibilities and had more time to focus on each other. I miss passing you, saying hi, and then getting the lingering smell of your cologne. I still remember those moments." You fiddled with the white lily in your hand.

"I miss....I just- I miss you. I don't know." You tried to contain yourself, but couldn't help the few tears that did eventually escape your eyes. Your heart ached remembering those memories of hanging out with your classmate, friend, lover and soulmate. Suguru Geto. The love of your life that was torn from your hands when the system failed him as they continued to fail your students. The last thing you would do is follow in his footsteps even if you wanted to. You couldn't do that to your team, your friends and family that was left here. Someone had to keep things in check, and sometimes it couldn't just be Satoru. You were strong enough to hold your own and to uphold others as well, so you stayed to do just that.

But for some reason, your heart continued to yearn so strongly for the man that left you behind. You wanted to be selfish and find him just to tear him down the way he did to you. But, realistically, he was doing what he felt would be right. Everyone else seemed so onboard with forgetting him. It wasn't so easy to do just that. Every night. For about a month. You had reoccurring nightmares of him. And the only thing that made seeing his face a nightmare was the fact that you had to wake up from such a beautiful dream. Torn from him again and again repeatedly in your mind even though he would always be gone in reality. What more could you give if not your mind and soul? You couldn't lie to yourself and bottle it all in.

Fuck the system and fuck your friends. If you were the only one who would be like this, then this would be the thing you could be selfish with. You only took the investigation missions on "finding and killing" Suguru Geto because you'd take the evidence pieces back to your shrine. Any clothing. Hair. His dorm items were withheld somewhere confidential when they decided to have him found and murdered, but you found out where just to steal photos of him and whatever else you could find. It felt so selfish placing his best photo in the middle of the shrine with other photos surrounding it. It felt disgusting and selfish when you found items he had used and placed those around the shrine as well. And you felt so ashamed when you finally lit the candles and incense. But after a while, you were looking forward to revisiting this beautiful monument every night.

You sighed, placing the lily with the other flowers you found worthy to be next to him. You finally closed your eyes and just wished that one day, you'd find and see him again.

Does he leave? Does he enter? Does he wait for you to continue or should he jump in? Questions flooded Suguru's mind at this. Out of all possible scenarios he could've came across today, this one surprised him the most. A wolfish smile crossed his face as he realized he wasn't alone. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you. That nasty, selfish love that only someone like you and him could understand. As much as he wants to jump in, he understands if this is more of a personal thing that you wouldn't want interrupted.

He turned to leave and figure out how to tackle this. But then he froze in his steps. A heavy weight hung onto his chest. It began to hurt and surround him. He got so cold all of a sudden, his muscles tensing and his sight almost beginning to blur. He felt...panicked. He couldn't move and for some reason couldn't feel like he could summon any curses. What was this?

Hot hands started on his lower back before traveling to his front and up to his chest. Your front pressed onto his back, allowing him to relax, but not fully. "You're back."

A/N: Ok this was kinda booty cheeks but i wanted to write so bad.

[cinnamon7girl7]

"BETWEEN DIAPERS AND CURSES"

I never thought one of the biggest challenges in the life of a special grade sorcerer would be getting a sick child to take his medicine without chaos reigning in the house.

The rain tapped softly against the apartment windows, painting the morning gray. The air smelled warm—like home, worn blankets, and soup on the stove. And you… well, you were wearing an old robe, your hair slightly tangled, and a little spoon in your hand, fighting against the most powerful creature of the day: a five-year-old Megumi, sick and in a bad mood.

—Come on, just a little bit —you whispered, with the sweetest voice you reserved for moments like this.

—I don’t want to —he grunted, turning his face away while pressing his lips tight.

His cheeks were red from the fever, his eyes shiny, and his dark hair messy as if he had fought a minor curse. Still, he absolutely refused to let the syrup touch his mouth. He twisted and turned like he was the victim of a cursed seal. It was impressive.

Just then, the door opened. And, as always when it seemed the universe wanted to give you a break, Gojo Satoru appeared. His hair was wet from the rain, a bag in one hand, and that cocky smile that had the power to disarm you just by looking at it.

—I’m home! —he sang—. Has the apocalypse started yet? —he said with a grin.

—Don’t laugh, this has been worse than facing a curse without reinforcements —you replied, tired but relieved.

Satoru came closer, set the bag aside, and leaned in to give you a gentle kiss on the forehead before kneeling in front of Megumi, who looked at him somewhere between anger and comfort.

—And what about you, kid? Planning a rebellion?

Megumi didn’t answer but stretched out his little arms and hugged Gojo’s neck. He snuggled against him with a weak sigh. Despite the bad mood, the bond between them was undeniable. He didn’t need to call him “dad” for the affection to be as real as the rain outside.

—His fever went up —you said softly, watching them—. He doesn’t want to eat or drink anything.

Satoru grew serious, and with that carefulness few knew he had, he stroked the child’s back.

—We’ll take care of him together. Like always.

His words were a balm. After that, they took turns: one read stories while the other prepared compresses. You made him soup, Satoru told silly stories about curses. It was a long day, but full of small details that made it bearable.

By night, Megumi slept between you, wrapped in blankets and clutching his plushie as if it were a treasure. His breathing was steady, and for the first time in hours, he seemed calm.

—He looks so small like this —Satoru whispered, gently stroking the boy’s dark hair.

—He is. Sometimes I forget he’s only five years old.

Satoru was silent for a moment. Then he settled next to you, looking at you with a softer expression than usual.

—You know? Today, while I watched you care for him… I was thinking about what it would be like to have one of our own with you.

You looked at him, surprised.

—One of our own?

—Yeah… A baby of ours. With your smile, your eyes… Well, if we can avoid them having my stubbornness, even better.

You let out a small laugh, covering your lips to avoid waking Megumi.

—Are you saying you want…?

—I’m saying I’d love to. To create a family with you. We already are one, yes, but… would you want to take that step? Have a baby?

You stayed silent, processing his words. Then you lowered your gaze to Megumi, asleep between you, and looked back at Gojo with a smile that said more than a thousand answers.

—And do you want to try… now?

Satoru looked at you wide-eyed. But just as he was about to answer, Megumi stirred under the blankets, half-whining in his sleep.

You both let out a stifled laugh.

—I think it’ll be another day, love —he whispered, kissing your hand—. But the idea isn’t going anywhere.

[ask-inspector-adventure2]

Ghost Rider Inspector: we'll both think about it also I'm glad you both are very happy with the suits we're wearing I'm sure that Blitz Milly monks and Stolas are going to be very amazed but they may ask who we are because of our cowboy suits when we return to the imp building with bomb proof course I do not want to forget about getting the hell horse and Riley has a point sometimes it could be a little bit of hard choices so give us some time to think it over and will let you both know if about marrying you we don't want to rush things over okay my precious hellhound~

[Closed RP] Hazbin Hotel X Helluva Boss Alternative Love Life in “Double the Badass Double the Hellish Pleasure”

[Note: This RP is an Alternative Love Life which is a Crossover of Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss which includes: Romance, Nsfw, Vulgar language, Gore, and Music! Only those who are 21 or Over can Read/View This RP!]

In The Darkest Pits, The Bloody Walls, Tormenting Fires, and the Tortured …The Sinned…And The Damned souls surrounded all Called Hell and there was the biggest City of all Hell called ZiroCity and that city is as big and long as Hell itself and its inhabitants were Demons, Mutated Creatures, and even Feral Beasts and Even Demonic Kings that rule ZiroCity

There were Two Female demon Adults Who were just strolling down the streets of ZiroCity they both saw the Hazbin Hotel where demons can have the opportunity to Rehabilitate and be sent to heaven and then they saw the I.M.P Headquarters and then there’s the biggest Hellish Beach all around the City !

Those Female adult demons were Loona who is a Hellhound and who is [45] years old and Sylvia who is a Hellhound and Wolf Hybrid which was also [45] years old and as they were talking about their Day in work and how they want to go somewhere more different for the Summer season…

Loona who is wearing a Black Leather Jacket with a Hellhound Skull symbol on the back and Black Pants as for Sylvia who was wearing a White leather Jacket with a Black Hellhound/Wolf Skull symbol on the back and Black pants with a chain link the two adult demons were at the same height and same age but very unique personalities…

As the two continue to walk Loona noticed that the two should do something newer together on the surface And that doesn’t care what Blitz has to say about going to the surface to do something different as her Best Friend which was Sylvia nodded in agreement and then…

The next Day Loona “Burrowed” the Grimoire a Book owned by Stolas Goetia to Open up a portal to the human world as Sylvia asked her on how She got the book from stolas as Loona replied that she borrowed it when she and Blitz went to Visit Stolas about an Opportunity and also Stella and Octavia was there in the living room

As Blitz was having a conversation with Stolas as Loona secretly asked Octavia for a favor to burrow the Grimoire Book for a little Trip to the human world with a Close Friend as Octavia gave the book to her secretly with no hesitation as stolas was very busy taking care of his Plant while talking with Blitz about the Huge opportunity as Stella was Drinking her Usual Tea Listening but also was starting to have some suspicions about Loona and Octavia The way they spoke so Softly and Quietly as she walked towards the two and asked them on what they’re doing as Loona was Ignoring her because she was busy on her phone as Octavia said to her mother that she was just talking with Loona about that last job that she participated with Blitz as Stella kept an very close and secretive eye on them both as Loona Explained to Sylvia but Loona didn’t really give a shit and Summoned the Portal…

As the two entered through the portal to a random location which the location that they were in is City of Chicago it was Night and it was the start of summer which means it’s June…

But they didn’t realize where they were going and then Sylvia asked about using their human forms in the Hunan World as Loona Replied to her that she doesn’t really give a fuck and that they can do whatever the fuck they want as Sylvia smiled and giggled as she followed Loona in search of a nearby Bar where they can get drinks and do something newly out of this world or some chaotic situations until they encountered two Adult Men That caught their hellhound eyes…

One of the men’s Name was Riley who has a Messy Black two block hairstyle, Emerald Green Eye color, a 10 pack and is Tall [9”9 ft] and who is wearing casual clothes as he was speaking with his Long time Best Friend about the Adventurous world Exploration that the two have been doing together but was asking a question about if they will ever meet someone that catches their eyes…Until the two men then encountered the two same female anthropomorphic Hellhounds that caught their eyes too…

As Riley was surprised by the fact that he sees Two anthropomorphic Hellhounds and was utterly speechless at their Appearance of which their bodies were strong and also some parts were Magnificently substantial as the second Friend spoke first and said…

[kingdoms-and-empires]

Some update news; It's coming soon!

Someone DM'd me and told me the post i shared this with doesnt make it obvious that i edited lol, so here's a fresh one, my bad!

Because I already posted about the public release new on COG forums here, ill just share it on tumblr as well lol

Some good news for you, the release is now expected in a single week rather than weeks now!

Here’s a lil peek into the rapid pace ive been at since the end of last month lmfao

I think ima keep doing these quick dev notes at the start since they help remind me im actually making progress lololol Sometimes when working at a choice tree you can feel stuck, especially if you try making deep branch paths in there.

So like the image says, my patreons get the small recodex (more like a glossary tbh) tomorrow, and while they nibble on that ill go over the game a few more times and look for any last mistakes, errors, bugs, etc and then add in the last bit of art i had commissioned before launching to the public!

Now that we’re here however, I would like to apologize to everyone for the rough and long journey so far. Thank you for your patience and support, truly.

What i had planned originally would have made the entire game poorly paced with an incoherent narrative/plotline. Then I tried mending it with the first rewrite, and realized I half-assed it, leading to the second current rewrite. That was excruciatingly painful to do.

But I feel it was worth it. It gave me back my confidence as a writer.

The upcoming public update consists of the Childhood Arc (that I am now going to refer to as the Prologue) that sets the foundation up for the rest of the story with planted seeds that will come explosively into play in the future. Many of the events in the future will stem from the seeds here, and itll be fun watching readers find them.

This single fucking section (which was planned to be splattered all throughout the game in the previous versions) has finally been conquered. All the hinting nods, seeds, and “back-of-the-scenes” movements made by characters throughout the world in KaE are done HERE in the Prologue. The world and characters are at last firmly established. You get a hint of the brutality if you go one route, you get a hint of the politics and logistics if you go the other. Much of the worldbuilding is done far more naturally and smoothly. I am satisfied at last.

But again, and I must reiterate; this is the prologue and it is over 160k words. That’s a LONG FUCKING PROLOGUE LMFAO

Okay, time to be technical.

With the command lines, meaning plus the words on the choices themselves for example, it is 162,053 words of content for the stuff you actually play.

Without the command lines, we have 147,598 words of content.

If I include the Relationships tab and all the other lines of code i made for our stat descriptions?

206,133

With this new arc we’re heading into, like ive said multiple times, is when we finally take active stage in the story. I am so freaking excited to begin this with yall!

But the childhood stuff had to be done. The “boring” part is finally over with this. Ihate to call it boring since i put so much heart into it, but im a realist and understand some folks may just wanna get to the cool stuff. Never ever shall i make the mistake of doing baby reincarnation and/or making us the royal heir cause I am not a good enough writer to pull it off.

But forget that. Right now, Im here to tell you the cool stuff is now coming.

I think ima keep doing these quick dev notes at the start since they help remind me im actually making progress lololol Sometimes when working at a choice tree you can feel stuck, especially if you try making deep branch paths in there.

So like the image says, my patreons get the small recodex (more like a glossary tbh) tomorrow, and while they nibble on that ill go over the game a few more times and look for any last mistakes, errors, bugs, etc and then add in the last bit of art i had commissioned before launching to the public!

Now that we’re here however, I would like to apologize to everyone for the rough and long journey so far. Thank you for your patience and support, truly.

What i had planned originally would have made the entire game poorly paced with an incoherent narrative/plotline. Then I tried mending it with the first rewrite, and realized I half-assed it, leading to the second current rewrite. That was excruciatingly painful to do.

But I feel it was worth it. It gave me back my confidence as a writer.

The upcoming public update consists of the Childhood Arc (that I am now going to refer to as the Prologue) that sets the foundation up for the rest of the story with planted seeds that will come explosively into play in the future. Many of the events in the future will stem from the seeds here, and itll be fun watching readers find them.

This single fucking section (which was planned to be splattered all throughout the game in the previous versions) has finally been conquered. All the hinting nods, seeds, and “back-of-the-scenes” movements made by characters throughout the world in KaE are done HERE in the Prologue. The world and characters are at last firmly established. You get a hint of the brutality if you go one route, you get a hint of the politics and logistics if you go the other. Much of the worldbuilding is done far more naturally and smoothly. I am satisfied at last.

But again, and I must reiterate; this is the prologue and it is over 160k words. That’s a LONG FUCKING PROLOGUE LMFAO

Okay, time to be technical.

With the command lines, meaning plus the words on the choices themselves for example, it is 162,053 words of content for the stuff you actually play.

Without the command lines, we have 147,598 words of content.

If I include the Relationships tab and all the other lines of code i made for our stat descriptions?

206,133

With this new arc we’re heading into, like ive said multiple times, is when we finally take active stage in the story. I am so freaking excited to begin this with yall!

But the childhood stuff had to be done. The “boring” part is finally over with this. Ihate to call it boring since i put so much heart into it, but im a realist and understand some folks may just wanna get to the cool stuff. Never ever shall i make the mistake of doing baby reincarnation and/or making us the royal heir cause I am not a good enough writer to pull it off.

But forget that. Right now, Im here to tell you the cool stuff is now coming.

I think ima keep doing these quick dev notes at the start since they help remind me im actually making progress lololol Sometimes when working at a choice tree you can feel stuck, especially if you try making deep branch paths in there.

So like the image says, my patreons get the small recodex (more like a glossary tbh) tomorrow, and while they nibble on that ill go over the game a few more times and look for any last mistakes, errors, bugs, etc and then add in the last bit of art i had commissioned before launching to the public!

Now that we’re here however, I would like to apologize to everyone for the rough and long journey so far. Thank you for your patience and support, truly.

What i had planned originally would have made the entire game poorly paced with an incoherent narrative/plotline. Then I tried mending it with the first rewrite, and realized I half-assed it, leading to the second current rewrite. That was excruciatingly painful to do.

But I feel it was worth it. It gave me back my confidence as a writer.

The upcoming public update consists of the Childhood Arc (that I am now going to refer to as the Prologue) that sets the foundation up for the rest of the story with planted seeds that will come explosively into play in the future. Many of the events in the future will stem from the seeds here, and itll be fun watching readers find them.

This single fucking section (which was planned to be splattered all throughout the game in the previous versions) has finally been conquered. All the hinting nods, seeds, and “back-of-the-scenes” movements made by characters throughout the world in KaE are done HERE in the Prologue. The world and characters are at last firmly established. You get a hint of the brutality if you go one route, you get a hint of the politics and logistics if you go the other. Much of the worldbuilding is done far more naturally and smoothly. I am satisfied at last.

But again, and I must reiterate; this is the prologue and it is over 160k words. That’s a LONG FUCKING PROLOGUE LMFAO

Okay, time to be technical.

With the command lines, meaning plus the words on the choices themselves for example, it is 162,053 words of content for the stuff you actually play.

Without the command lines, we have 147,598 words of content.

If I include the Relationships tab and all the other lines of code i made for our stat descriptions?

206,133

With this new arc we’re heading into, like ive said multiple times, is when we finally take active stage in the story. I am so freaking excited to begin this with yall!

But the childhood stuff had to be done. The “boring” part is finally over with this. Ihate to call it boring since i put so much heart into it, but im a realist and understand some folks may just wanna get to the cool stuff. Never ever shall i make the mistake of doing baby reincarnation and/or making us the royal heir cause I am not a good enough writer to pull it off.

But forget that. Right now, Im here to tell you the cool stuff is now coming.

After the public is out, i will focus on the Upbringing Routes one at a time.

Squire/Prince/Princess.

Squire will be started and worked on first until completion because it is a unisex route, and also because its probably the most traditionally “fun” of the routes. In it, we go to the north with our father and his retinue to quell unrest with the wild tribes and our people, until inevitably it devolves into total war in the north. There, we begin our martial journey and showcase the skills that’ll one day force the world to submit to our prowess.

But for now, we’re still young and have much to learn. Our enemies will never have a better chance to kill us… and yet theyll still fail. Or at least, YOU have to make sure they fail!

The Prince/Princess Routes on the other hand, will be more of a political thriller as the ducal families of the south try to one up one another and take power, influence, and land from one another. We’ll work with our mother to ensure civil war doesnt happen while pops is up in the north.

Alright, thats enough of that lol

Again, thank you all for the continued support!

[paracosm-draw]

"Day 31 - Grabbing a drink together was Anakin's newest obsession these last few days. I finally found some time to clear my schedule after he asked for the third time. It seems to be important for him, I don't know why. I'm starting to decipher different parts of him emerging with time, and I don't know if they've always been there or if his personality is building at the same time as his experience.

Anyway, we grabbed a drink and went to his favourite park. He talked - a lot - and I mostly listened. You should hear him. He's smart and quick-witted, he has his own sense of humor and ideas all the time. Sometimes, often, I forget that I'm not talking to a human being. A biological one, I mean. He's fantastic. Every day I wonder how I managed to achieve this. Him. How a couple of lines of code could have given life to a creature capable of thinking for himself. This is quite scary, when you think about it. But I'm not scared. Not of Anakin. Never of Anakin. He's the best thing I did in my entire life.

Note 1 : he removed his shoes as soon as we sat on the bench, told me he liked the feeling of grass under his feet after spending 19 years in a place that had nothing but sand and concrete. I'm delighted to see that his artificial memories are having a real impact on his present decisions. The pathway is working well.

Note 2 : he told me it looked like a date. I don't think he knows what that means. Note to myself : telling him later."

[cherry-blossom-honey]

Quick (Thunderbolt! Reader x Bob Reynolds smut)

Where Bob wants to wish the reader good luck before a mission ;)

A/N: Phew, I'm back from death!

Content warnings: Quickie, dry humping, breast play, Bob cums in his pants. Tell me if I missed something

—Bob, please. We can't do this now, I have to go— You moaned on top of him as he sat on your bed leaving kisses all over your chest.

You weren't even dressed yet, and the rest of the team was getting ready for today's mission.

—What if I kept you here with me? Fucking you until you forget about that mission, even about the team— Bob whispered in your ear, his grip tight around you— or maybe...

He grinned, finally letting you go. Robert Reynolds always had a plan.

—Take off your panties and come here— he commanded, patting his leg.

You followed the dark haired man's instructions as he looked at you like you were the most delectable dessert. Once you were straddling his clothed thigh, Bob started kissing you eagerly.

It was the look on his face what made you come back to reality as his mouth attacked your right breast; hungry, lustful, dark and confident. You could only babble incoherent words when Robert circled his tongue around the sensitive bud of your nipple before he released it with a visible string of saliva.

Sometimes, it seemed like you weren't aware of how strong he was. Bob's arms rocked you faster and faster, treating you like a ragdoll; at some point you didn't remember, he even ripped your t-shirt apart.

—Fuck— he whimpered, looking down— Fuck, baby. You are making a mess on me.

Something about the image of your juices coating Bob's sweatpants turned you on even more. Biting your lip and moaning, you hid your face in the crook of his neck.

—Don't worry, I got you—he knew you were close.

He was, too.

You came, trying to silence a loud cry into his mouth. Robert followed almost instantly, holding you against him as he moaned your name.

—I think I'll go to missions more often— you joked

When Bob was about to answer, you heard somebody knocking at the door.

—Hey— It was Yelena's voice— I heard you scream, you okay? It's getting late.

—Uh...— you tried to make up an excuse as Bob held his laugh— yeah, I just fell asleep and stub my toe while putting on my shoes.

—Alright— she didn't sound convinced— be downstairs in ten minutes or I'll come back and slam this door.