miyukisu · 3 days ago
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Need Your Lips On Mine .ᐟ
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❤︎ | You'd think he'd be more enthusiastic to get his hands on you because of the whole 'secret relationship' thing, but maybe it's time to turn the tables (2.3k wc) ╰ feat. osamu dazai (bsd) x afab! reader
kinktober entry no. 9 | kinktober masterlist
tags - reader works at the cafe, dom/sub dynamics, dazai is mean and annoying, edging, implied mutual masturbation, semi-public smex, toys, light bdsm (he's bound by the hands lol), blowjob, no p in v, p*rn with plot, reader is feisty, profanity
minors do not interact
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"Take your hand off... I swear... they're gonna catch us sooner or later."
Your words fell on deaf ears as one bandaged hand kept itself under your skirt and on your ass. "If you keep quiet, then maybe no one will get caught. Hm?"
You let up, settling for nasty side glances at him every once in a while instead. Of course, you were met with Dazai's cheeky smile. This bastard really thought that by having a secret relationship—he could be annoying anytime he wanted as long as it was done in secret.
His job required to keep the existence of your relationship confidential—at least that's what he said. You were the cashier at the cafe located beneath their detective agency's office. Dazai was a detective, that's all you knew and that was more than enough apparently.
A secret is a secret, you figured.
Kunikida was starting to give you weird looks from the booth. You flashed an awkward smile and tried waving at him, failing to look normal.
Well... maybe Kunikida knows.
Why else would Dazai be standing behind you while you were at the register? It was either you were up to no good or Dazai's begging you to forget about his hefty tab.
"Who're you waving at?" he whispers into your ear. You failed to realize how close he leaned down to you.
"Kunikida. He's starting to realize something funny's going on."
"Funny you say?" Dazai repeats before humming in thought. Whatever it was that was running through the detective's head—it probably wasn't anything good or innocent.
Dazai finally lets go of your ass, opting to drape an arm across your shoulders instead. It wasn't anything unusual—surprisingly—because Dazai has been known to be 'friendly' with the cafe staff.
He calls the attention of all the customers i.e. Kunikida, Atsushi, Kenji, and Ranpo who is sound asleep. "I'll be accompanying our cute little cashier on her break. Don't miss us!"
It was highly unlikely that anyone would. Kunikida doesn't even give him the time of day while Atsushi offered an uneasy smile. Kenji was his usual upbeat self and Ranpo—was still fast asleep.
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It felt like an eternity of tongues clashing and breathless whispers blending into each other. Your hands were all over his lanky build while his hands remained firm on your behind. If you were to guess which body part he liked the most on a woman—you'd probably get it right.
Dazai pulled away first—not that he was breathless or anything; he just wanted to see what expression you had on your face.
"Someone's eager," he says in a lilted tone.
"Oh stop it. You disappear for a week... A WEEK!"
He laughs it off—disappearing for a week is business as usual for him. "Shhh... I'm here now though, aren't I? Besides, I find it quite cute how excited you are to get your hands on me."
That earned him a weak punch on the chest from you. "You're so annoying."
Dazai lets out another small laugh, amused by your irritation at him. "Oh, darling. You haven't seen the worst of it."
Knowing him and all the shit he pulls, those words should've made you run for the hills soon as you heard it. Dazai leans in, breath fanning the sweaty skin of your neck. It felt cool against the humid air of the cafe's storage room.
"I've got an idea," he whispers. "Don't move, okay?"
You hear a slight ruffling. Perhaps he was retrieving something from his coat pocket. Then, you feel something cold—something metallic—drag along your thigh. Though, you were unsure what it could be.
The feeling kept getting higher and higher, until it was at a place where you most dreaded it would reach. Dazai smiled as he dragged the unknown metallic object against the fabric of your panties.
"Wanna guess what that is, darling?"
You had a hint, but you decided not to indulge him in his silly games.
"You don't know?" he asks. "Well, I hope this helps!"
Dazai, skilled with his fingers, swiped the fabric out of the way and plunged the vibrator in one fluid motion.
"Good thing you got insanely wet from kissing me huh?"
Your first instinct was to close your legs, but Dazai was quick to put a knee between them. "W-what the fuck are you doing?"
"Thought I'd make things exciting," he says with an irritatingly bright smile. "Also because I have to go now."
Grabbing him by the collar, you pull him down to your level. "The fuck you mean you're going? You're seriously leaving me high and dry after basically ghosting me?"
He gives you a half-assed 'apologetic' smile. "I won't be too long. You can do anything to me once I come back."
"Anything?"
"Anything."
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The rest of your shift was—to say the least—downright miserable. Of course, the stupid vibrator could be controlled by him. You weren't sure if it was purely coincidence or if he was secretly watching you, but the damn thing seemed to turn on whenever a customer would come up to the counter.
On the times you thought you could finally sit down and relax a bit, he'll make sure to turn it up a notch and give you a good surprise.
He gave you no reprieve as his antics continued until your shift ended and it was time to clean up. You were the only employee left because it just so happens to be the day when the most arduous clean up task fell into your care.
Once you heard the bell at the door ring and the familiar set of footsteps, you were ready to yell a certain man's ear off.
"Hey, darling."
"You son of a—"
Turning around, you were met with a smiling Dazai with a bouquet of flowers in his clutches. Normally, any other woman receiving flowers from a lover would be over the moon, but not you. Dazai was quite the unconventional man. Flowers were a tricky thing to interpret.
His smile turned lopsided before he slowly approached you. "I got you flowers."
"I can see that."
He chuckles again. "Can't you at least act like you're happy about it?"
"I don't want flowers," you exclaim.
He sighs, placing he beautiful arrangement on the counter beside you. "What do you want then, pretty?"
"You."
Dazai laughs a little louder this time as if what you said was so hilarious to him. "Me? Little ol' me? My sweet thing wants nothing else but me?"
"You're so annoying."
A large hand pats your unkempt hair. "Yes, I know, darling. You tell me almost everyday."
"Liar. I haven't seen you in a week. Besides—what the fuck is up with the vibrator? Do you know how many customers I've had toda—"
He silences you once more, placing a slender finger over your lips. "You get to do anything you want to me now though. Isn't that right, darling?"
The realization hits a bit too late, but it does, and small smile creeps on your face. This was going to be revenge for disappearing and for the stunt earlier.
You ask him to get the vibe out and he obeys without complaint—the metal apparatus stuffed in his pocket again. You hadn't realized how drenched you were until it was pulled out. But that doesn't matter right now. You were a woman on a mission.
No words left your mouth as you made quick work of his belt. Dazai's eyes never left your hands as he smiled to himself.
"Getting to the good part already hm?" he insinuates. But you don't respond, only silently walking behind him to bind his hands with his own belt. You've learned plenty of things from him and this was one of those.
"Ah hah... we're doing that kind of thing huh?" he says, continuing to talk seemingly to himself.
You walk right in front of him again, grabbing his collar like you did earlier today. With his face closer now, he should understand the situation he's in. "Be a good boy for me, okay?" you say before planting a soft kiss on his chapped lips.
Thrill and excitement coursed through every fiber of his being as you roughly pushed him back against the counter. He made himself weightless and easy to push around because this was entertainment for him as much as it was for you.
But the glint in your eyes tells him this wasn't simply any kind of entertainment for you. You had a plan and him not knowing anything for once gave him a rush he had gotten only in the past.
With the strength you had in your arms, you pried his vest and button up open—albeit you had to carefully unbutton some of the stubborn ones.
"It's kinda hot seeing you take control for once," he says.
Once all of the buttons were out of the way, you were met by his mostly bandaged abdomen. Even you were unsure of what was beneath these strips, but he was adamant to keep them on.
You ran your palms over his body, stopping at his heaving chest. "I've never seen you out of breath before. Are you that excited?"
"Am I? You should feel my dick," he counters.
You try your hardest to stifle a laugh by kissing his bandaged chest instead. The soft gesture seemingly had a soothing effect on him as his breathing slowed a bit and his expression mellowed out—like you had put him in a trance.
Then the kisses went lower and lower—his chest, stomach, until you were just above the hem of his trousers. His adam's apple bobbed, swallowing in anticipation.
"Wow," you mutter, palming at his aching erection. "You weren't lying huh?"
His laugh came out choppier than usual as if his typical air of confidence had been blown away. Dazai tried playing it cool. "Can you blame me?"
"Guess not," you shrug nonchalantly before working on the button of his pants. Thanks to having the belt off, his bottoms came off pretty easily—not that you needed it all the way off.
Palming at his hardening cock after the thin fabric of his boxers made his mouth water and his palms clammy. Even Dazai was starting to wonder what the fuck was going on with him. Perhaps it was the thick air inside the stuffy room or because someone was finally putting his ass in its place.
Whichever it was, it only served to make him exhilarated.
"This looks pretty painful," you coo at him. Dazai would have loved to gently caress your head as you knelt in front of him so sweetly, but alas, his hands were still bound behind his back.
He found it hotter how well you restrained him actually.
"Yeah, looks like you should do something about it no?"
In response, you pull the pesky fabric out of he way, freeing his leaking cock. Truth be told, you weren't expecting for him to be fully hard after all that. Dazai was rather... hard to impress—for a lack of a better term.
You swipe his weeping tip with a thumb before spreading pre all along his length. Looking up at him, you ask the question: "My hand or my mouth?"
"Be serious, darling. You know you need both to get all of me."
"Fine. Be a smartass and you get neither."
He lets out a labored breath. "Jeez. Fine. I want your mouth. Pretty please?"
For as much of a pain in the ass he is, hearing him be so compliant for once made him hard to deny. You rewarded him with a small kitty lick on his tip—to test the waters—before licking the underside of his length.
You've learned to pay attention to those spots. Normally, Dazai was good at hiding things, but it was easy to catch on his sensitive points. In the bedroom, with you, he was an open book.
You watched him—how his eyes were fixated on you—while you went down on him. It made you particularly satisfied seeing him throw his head back in pleasure.
It egged you on to fit more of him and to go faster. You gagged more than once and it was messy—really fucking messy.
Just how he liked it.
He had grown uncharacteristically quiet which was usually a good sign in this case. It meant you were doing good—so good in fact, that it shut him up.
Feeling his dick twitch, you knew he was painfully close. But he isn't getting that orgasm he craves so easily. No way.
Before he could bust his load, you pull away—a string of saliva connecting your plump lips to his reddish tip.
Innocently, you stared up at him as if you've done nothing wrong—as if you didn't blue ball him just now.
"Hah... darling... I was so close..."
He sounded so breathless... so desperate. His heart fell to his stomach when you got off your knees and dusted yourself off. Was that it? Was he going to be left standing there with his dick out and aching?
You turn away from him, walking a couple of steps. He could tell you were fiddling with your uniform, but he was concerned more about his predicament down there.
"Thought you were the only one who could edge me?"
He tries to get out of the restraint while you weren't looking, but that blowjob quite literally sucked the strength out of his body.
But all of his movements were halted once you turned around, blouse open and tits out all for him to see.
"Well, two can play that game, darling. Sit tight while you watch me, alright? Gonna play with myself for a bit. Hope ya don't mind."
You tried copying his sing-song tone, but no matter what kind of lighthearted tone you use, there probably isn't one that can fix the frustrated frown on his face.
©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms
╰ author's note I'm kinda tired of writing p in v so here you go!! Some good ol' edging and teasing for the soul!!
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stargirl-writes · 1 day ago
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respite
pairing : f! reader x anakin skywalker
word count : 2.2k
masterlist
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summary
Amid the war, a healer and a soldier find themselves entangled in a delicate dance between love and survival. When exhaustion and unspoken wounds threaten to drive them apart, they must confront the weight of their fears, jealousy, and vulnerability—knowing that healing isn’t always about fixing what’s broken, but learning to hold on through the storm.
tags : angst, angst with a happy ending (!)
warnings : blood, tending to a wound
notes : hello my loves <3, 1 yr writing for a.s. and long story short all my energy was used trying to survive my medical internship. healer! reader is my most self indulgent coping mechanism— here's another angsty catastrophizing passage i'd like to share wit y'all hehe
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Anakin Skywalker was a knife personified.
Sharp, blunt, useful. A touch can draw blood.
But despite the danger, he was made of steel— unrelenting and unyielding. One would make an effort to not stare too much— at what his purpose of being reveals; that in the hands of someone cruel, he becomes something of a weapon.
They say that the healer has the bloodiest hands— a permanent imprint of those you've saved and those you've failed.
You try not to think about it too much— your losses cannot equate to the priviledge of a chance to keep someone alive. That was a gift. Only a God can define salvation—what you're doing is an attempt.
But what did your fingers ever do before they held him?
All of it seemed to pale in comparison.
Maybe the sun has set differently in Coruscant, a place always buzzing with neon and noise— maybe you just stopped noticing it the way you stopped noticing him. You don't know why there remained a part of you that was mistrusting, waiting for him to grow tired with you. Instead, the jagged streaks of electric blue and searing magenta faded into something soft, casting a warm golden light that lingers even after the sun slips behind the horizon, refusing to ever dim.
It's both comforting and heartbreaking that over time you could forget holding onto something so sharp long enough to feel it slip— can leave a trail of blood.
The door to your quarter hisses open— and the weight of Anakin fills the room before he utters a word. His boots are heavy on the floor, dragging with a kind of exhaustion that sinks deeper than muscle and bone. Even his shoulders, which assumes the posture of a Jedi slumps forward. He pauses— gaze wide and apprehending.
His robes are dark with dust and sweat, blood smeared across the cuffs of his bionic arms— not his, someone else's. Always someone else's. He stands there too long, unmoving, as if having already read what's on your mind.
"You're hurt," You speak across the room.
"I'm fine."
His voice is low, flat, like all the life has been scraped out of it. You've seen this before, the wounds he carries aren't the ones stitched into his skin.
He turns on his heel, taking off his clothes. You step closer, noticing the slight wince as he tries to reach for his robes. He held a pose of defiance, unflinching even as you slowly took off the fabric that clung to his flesh. You pressed your palm against the soft skin of his shoulders, coaxing him to sit by the edge of the bed.
He lets out a sigh as the robe slips off. You turn to grab the medkit sitting at your bedside table— its existence a harsh reminder that anytime he comes home— so will the hurt that resides deep within him.
His eyes are hooded and dark as he follows your fingers gently press over a gash lining his chest. He sat still— either too tired to care or too numbed to feel it.
"You can't keep doing this, Anakin,"
He tilts his chin upward, "Doing what?"
You paused, eyes locking in a silent challenge as he kept playing asinine.
"Coming back half-dead and pretending it doesn't matter" You pressed the cloth over his wound, he hisses, flinching away.
He takes your wrist, eyebrows furrowed at your accusation. "I'm still here, aren't I?"
"Barely."
You seal the wound with a sterile band, the scar tissue will build thick and uneven, just like all pain that he refuses to touch buried deep underneath.
It's hard not to get frustrated to watch Anakin undo all the work you've done— that he would resort to passively allowing it to hurt. His skill with a saber is unquestionable, a droid won't be able to even come near him to inflict pain. As the war dragged on— he'd come home late at night appearing more and more injured. Perhaps it's his way to alleviate some guilt. Because he needs it to believe a sort of redemption— that he is not reduced to what was required of him.
A weapon. Unyielding. Unrelenting.
You turn to pack your materials back to the medkit— no longer able to stomach the tensed silences. You can't quite remember when it felt as though you've become one. Someone who deals death and someone who restores life. Where you began and where he ended was the most beautiful thread in the fabric of fate. There had only been one night—just one— where he let himself sleep, slumped against you in a rare moment of peace. You remember the way his breathing evened, slow and steady, as if for a few precious hours, the war has loosened his grip on him. And the room is blanketed with a sort of promise, that he'll be here for you as you were for him. And that also meant working through the difficult days where loving simply won't suffice.
It seems that the difficult days are outnumbering the ones where you both were happy. Thinking back at it makes you feel as if those days had been another lifetime ago.
He slumps down the bed, arms folded holding his head. "I've handed the 501st' command to Ahsoka, the mission in Mandalore is dragging on, I need her with me,"
He's always carried more than he should. Always assumed the weight of a galaxy, even when it would break him. Having your back against him made it easier to deliberately slow down your words to an unassuming casualness. "Without Obi-Wan?"
You go to Obi-Wan to fill the gaps of the chasm forming between you and Anakin, the ones only Obi-Wan seems to understand.
You turn to sit down beside him. You didn't need to access the force to feel the shift in the atmosphere.
"I haven't seen him in a while," His eyes were staring ahead— up at the ceiling. "So… how is Obi-Wan?"
There was an unmistakable edge to his words—tinged with bitterness and accusation.
"What?"
He chuckles hollowly. "I figured you'd know by now. You always run to him."
His sarcasm drips with an underlying insecurity. Obi-Wan, a person he looks up to, being more trustworthy than he was. He's trying not to sound accusatory but it's obvious that he's struggling with jealousy.
You open your mouth to say something. To defend your actions. What else could you have resorted to? When anytime you try to bridge that gap between you, he turns away. Your heart lodges in your throat— any attempt to explain just sounded as if you and Obi-Wan had been conspiring to manage him.
He straightens, balancing his weight against his arms, gaze demanding an answer. "Why do you keep going to him?"
"I'm not—"
He stands to his feet, tension rippling through his body like a coiled spring. "Yes you are! Every time you think something's wrong you look for him like I'm in need of fixing."
You clasp your fingers together— begging them to steady. "I'm only worried about you— you keep coming home changed like…"
"You're disappearing.“ You answered, "How long can you go on like this without breaking?"
There was a beat of silence. He rubs his temples, pacing bad and forth like staying still is the hardest thing he's ever done.
"And so what, you're going to keep patching me up thinking I'll be someone else?" "No," "—Then stop pretending that I am."
“I keep losing everyone, I can't lose you too." You utter as the guilt verbalizes.
His expression softens recognizing the vulnerability of your words. Something in him falters— just for a moment, a breath—and the weight of his exhaustion settles to his shoulders. He kneels down in front of you.
"You're not losing me," He says, quiter this time, as if he's convincing himself as much as you.
"It feels like it…"
He clasps his fingers over your hands, unraveling them. He opens his mouth to say something back—but then he stops. His head dips, the fight draining out of him. In the quietness, you could hear him pace his breaths with yours.
"You're not going to go through this alone anymore," He shifts closer, his bare chest leaving imprints on the skin of your knees. "Ahsoka will be on Mandalore while Obi-Wan takes Utapau, I'll stay here."
Your fingers slip through his hair, brushing it away from his forehead, tracing the uneven skin lining his face. He leans into your touch, and for a little while, the storm settles, just enough to let you both breathe.
He'll always be someone else's arsenal. He is yours. In a way that you wear his touch as a shield, his promises as hope from all the battles left to fight. He plants soft kisses on the palm of your hand, and a light ignites. Something eternal. Something that tells you that there are things worth holding on to—even when it hurts. You're not going to find the resolution tonight. But this was the beginning. That would have to be enough.
"I'm staying," He says as he presses his lips to your palm again, as if sealing the promise neither of you fully understands yet.
You nod, a smallest curve at the corner of your lips, for a fleeting moment, you feel him smile too.
It feels as though love will suffice. You knew he'd weave the fabrics of fate until it only spells your name. That he will tire, and it will not be easy.
"You know for someone who's fine, you're really bad at hiding pain."
Anakin's lips curved to a faint tired smirk— barely there, but real enough to make your heart lighten. He snakes his long fingers against your waist, pulling you closer until his warmth anchors you.
"Guess you must be rubbing off on me." He murmurs, voice rough with exhaustion, but there's a softness in it—like something broken finding a way to heal.
For a moment the weight lifts. It's not gone, not really, but the edges have dulled enough that you can hold him and not wince at the contact of him being pressed against you. Neither of you speaks again, nor moves again. In the dim of night, with senses dulled, the ordinary becomes profound. And— all of the terror slips away, for now. He no longer is someone that breeds horror. He is love. Made solely to be felt by you.
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m00nl1ghts1vt · 1 day ago
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Don't Think Different - Matt Sturniolo
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Requested by anon Pairings - bf!Matt x gf!Reader Summary - You and your long-term boyfriend, Matt, get invited to a friend's wedding. As the ceremony goes on, you and Matt can't help but wonder what it'd be like if it was your wedding day instead. Warnings - Just some fluff 🥰 W/c - 907 A/n - Heyy guys ❤️ I tried my hardest with this one. I don't have too much experience when it comes to cultural differences so, please don't hate. I had to do a bit of research for this one! I hope everyone likes it! (Dividers and photos are not mine. All credits to owners) Tags - @lvrsturniolo (if anyone else wants on my tag list just let me know!) Masterlist. Requests are open. Current series - City of Love.
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“Ready baby?” Matt sounds from the driver's seat of his car. You look at him, nodding, “yea let’s go.”
You and your boyfriend, Matt, were attending a close friend's wedding. You met the couple in college, quickly becoming their third wheel. A year later, you met Matt on a fun night out with them. You labeled Raj and Carina as your ‘parent friends’, so when Matt got their approval, you were jumping for joy! 
Though, three years have passed and both relationships have flourished tremendously. Your relationship with Matt didn’t move as quickly as Raaj and Carina’s did. I mean, they were getting married while you and Matt just hit one year of living together a couple months ago. You were happy for your friends, but a bit jealous that you and your long-term boyfriend weren’t in their shoes. 
Exiting the car, Matt grabs your hand and leads you into the venue. It’s an outdoor wedding with flowers and tapestries draped from the sky, setting a fun and playful mood for the guests. It really was beautiful.
“Oh my god,” you slap a hand over your mouth. You look around, taking in the breathtaking view. Matt looks over at you smiling, “I know! This is amazing!” He was in awe just as you were. The two of you take your seats, waiting for the ceremony to start. The groom, Raaj, comes in first, music blaring and his groomsmen following close behind him. When Carina approaches the aisle, all eyes on her, her dress is all white and bedazzled with crystals. Her veil matches, beaded crystals drooping off of it. Looking over at Matt, “I love her dress!” you mouth at him. He smiles at you and nods back to the bride. 
You turn your attention towards your friend as she approaches her soon-to-be husband. You couldn’t wait for that to be you and Matt up there. Your heart fluttered at the thought of marrying him and starting a family. It didn’t matter that your relationship went at a slower pace than most. As long as he wasn’t going anywhere, you didn’t care how quickly things progressed. Matt reaches his hand out, placing it on your thigh, and rubbing small circles into your skin. Your eyes meet his and he gives you a reassuring smile. 
The two of you watch as your newly married friends circle around the fire seven times and exchange varmala’s. Raaj bows as Carina puts the varmala around his neck, accepting his wife. He stands upright, smiling big as he puts his varmala over Carina’s head. The crowd cheers, giving the newlyweds a standing ovation as confetti and flowers shoot through the air. Matt wraps his arm around your shoulder, ducking his head until its ear level to you. He places a soft kiss on the side of your face, “that’ll be us next.”
Heat rises to your cheeks at his comment. God, you wish it was your moment right now. You had a habit of wanting as much of Matt as you could get, not in an overly possessive way. The passion your relationship with Matt held was undeniable. As guarded as he was, it only made you want to break his walls down even further - and that’s exactly what you did. It took a while, but you got there. So, Matt telling you he planned on marrying you was something you only dreamed about before. He never talked about marriage before, him mentioning it now made you fall into a daydream. Imagining the wedding you always wanted felt surreal to you. 
You look over at Matt after a while, “I’m not in a rush.” You knew damn well that if you could have it your way Matt would be dropping to one knee and pulling out a ring right then and there. That’d be considered rude at someone else's wedding, right? You watch as Matt purses his lips together, “I am,” making you giggle at him. 
“Seriously, we’ve been together for years. Getting married doesn’t seem too bad, right?” he scratches the back of his neck nervously. Truth is, Matt never knew if marriage was a goal for you. You came from a divorced household, so he always thought it was a sensitive topic for you. He wasn’t wrong and he never brought it up. 
“Well, duh,” you say a little louder than expected. All the guests are exiting their chairs, relocating to the reception tables. Matt snakes a hand around your waist as the two of you follow the group of people. “I know we’ve never talked about it, but marriage is a big goal of mine,” you tell him honestly, “and I hope it's one of yours too.”
Your words make Matt abruptly stop in his tracks. The sudden halt makes you stop with him, tripping over your own two feet. Matt keeps his grip on your waist firm, not letting you faceplant and he turns you to him. “Of course, I want to marry you, Y/n. This isn’t just fun and games to me, this is serious. I want it all with you, I want to put a ring on that finger and babies in that belly,” his fingertips dig into your waist as he talks, lifting your hand and stroking your ring finger. He brings it up to his lips, giving your hand a small peck, “don’t think any different, okay?”
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willows-writings · 3 days ago
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Of Butterflies and Consequences: An Until Dawn Interactive Fanfiction
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Chapter 1: Friendship: Ten Hours Until Dawn
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OBaC Masterlist
a/n: Ok guys hi!! So this chapter is gonna start with a bit of world building I won't lie. It's really just to establish who you are in this world and where you stand with everyone.
cw: past death, mental health struggles, mentions self inflicted pain
tags: @lousypotatoes @moyo5653 @morgy3456 @pecxiebu @ohantonia (I'm so so sorry if I didn't get everyone!!)
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one year later
Blackwood Mountain was a gorgeous as you remember it to be. You had been there more times than you could count, more than anyone else in the group. Either with Hannah and Beth for a weekend of gossip and hot cocoa, the entire Washington family who treated you as one of their own, or just you and Josh who would insist on lighting every candle in the house to establish a "romantic atmosphere".
All those visits and none of them took place in the past year.
Hell you don't think anyone has been up to this lodge this whole year except for the police.
Josh had invited you up here two days before everyone else got here to "tidy it up" was his excuse. But really you think it's because he knew he wouldn't be able to handle the first few days here alone.
Ever since the incident you stuck by each other. Your parents knew what had happened had been traumatic for the both of you and more often than not let you sleep over at the Washington's house. On the nights when you didn't, you would often wake up to Josh crawling through your window to sleep with you close to him.
God, you would do anything for Josh, anything at all, but at the same time you were mourning your best friends as well. That's why the two of you clung so close to each other. Having been dating almost a year before the incident it drove your already close relationship even closer together instead of farther apart like most people thought it would. You know even if you hadn't been dating and still just friends you would have stayed with him through thick and thin.
Josh had a hard time, had moments of rage, where he's punch a wall till his knuckles bled and either you or his parents would have to patch him up. His moments of depression where he would scream and cry and tear at his skin and all you could do was hold him and sob with him. Bargaining where you would both sit up at night and ask the universe why? Why them? Why not anyone else?
Inseparable as you were you know Josh had his moments, where he needed a few hours, or a day or two alone. You did too. You always knew to keep an eye on him during those moments, sending him little texts that reminded him that you loved him, asking him how his day was. It worked, and you know no matter how long those moments were he will always greet you with a hug and kiss as well as whispers about how much he missed you and loves you.
You think therapy helped, Dr. Hill seemed like a nice man, and even though at first Josh just seemed worse after the sessions he gradually started to get more and more positive. You know even before the incident Josh had struggled with mental health but before it had been manageable with some therapy, coping strategies and a few pills. After the twin's death, he was prescribed a butt load of pills to take. Sometimes it baffled you how he could remember even the smallest detail about you but completely forget to take his pills for a week straight! You took to writing reminders around his and your room, setting reminders on yours or his phone or just reminding him when you were together, which was often. But in the past few months, he had really been improving. You would show up at his house and he would proudly exclaim he took all his medicine for the day without you even asking.
You were proud of the both of you. Josh hadn't talked to anyone but you and his parents for the first six months but after that, he slowly started to reach out to Chris again. Josh even told Chris a bit about his therapy which is a huge leap in the right direction! He even started talking to Matt again in recent months. He had texted all the girls recently as well! Just little things like a post that reminded him of them or a "how's your day?" As for Mike... you knew he had reached out but not as much as he did for the others. It counted, it was all steps toward healing.
As for you, well, it was hard to talk to them at first. Logically you knew it wasn't their fault but a part of you needed to blame something other than the cold weather so you lashed out on them. It was easy to forgive Sam and Chris, you can't remember much from that night but you know Chris had nothing to do with it and you're pretty sure Sam even stood up for Hannah. Everyone else, it took you a few months to be able to talk or text them more than small talk or a passing comment. Eventually, it got easier and things almost felt like they were before.
About 4 months after their death you walked into the nearest tattoo parlor and walked out with a new tattoo. A butterfly on your right arm, the exact same one Hannah had. You remember going with her the day she got hers and holding her hand through the pain of the needle. Since you had been a few months younger than her at the time and therefore still 17 she had looked at you, winked, and said.
"Y/n the second you turn 18 I am making you go through the same pain I just did. Don't worry I'll let you squeeze my hand this time."
You had laughed and Josh and Beth had laughed when you told them Hannah's promise. But when you showed Josh the tattoo this time he just hugged you and cried.
Since then life has been as close to good as it can get, you had started taking classes at the local community college and you and Josh had been talking about moving out from your parents to buy an apartment together. It was good, you were doing good. That's why it took you by complete shock when one night, as you lay on your side scrolling through your phone and Josh spooned you and watched over your shoulder, he announced he wanted to go back to the lodge.
"What?" You had exclaimed, turning the phone off, sitting up and turning to face him.
He lay on his back and made a noise of affirmation "Yeah, and I wanted to invite the whole group up too, the good ol' annual trip." As he talked his eyes slowly drifted from yours till he was staring at the corner of the room nervously.
"Josh... I want whatever you want you know that, but are you sure this is something you want or do you feel obligated?" You remember once Dr. Hill had told you that if Josh says something out of character you should ask him to clarify if it was him saying it or the grief.
"I-I think it would be nice. You know like a one year anniversary thing, to celebrate them and their lives." His eyes moved and met yours again, "I can't keep avoiding them forever, they are my friends, and even if we're not as close as we used to be I still want to see them. Besides I think Hannah and Beth would have wanted us to be happy at some point."
You stay quiet, shocked by his sudden vulnerablity. But Josh, being Josh, opens his mouth again in a poor attempt to crack a joke.
"Can't stay wallowing, swaddled in blankets forever can we?" He grins lightly.
You let out a groan and bend down to meet your lips with his. After a few seconds of kissing you drawing away, but only a bit so your face is still leaning over his.
"Josh I think it's a great idea, I'll help you plan it all, I love you."
He smiled and leaned up to meet your lips.
And so after helping him set up a quite dramatic video (on par for him) inviting all your friends up and arriving two days early, it is now the day everyone is set to arrive.
"Today is the one year anniversary of the dreadful tragedy that took place on Mount Washing-"
You turn off the small radio you had been listening to and sigh. You're standing in the kitchen with a glass of water in your hand wearing pants and one of Josh's various band t-shirts. At least Josh had seemed chipper this morning, you couldn't say the same for yourself but that might just be slight elevation sickness.
Speaking of Josh he had left a bit a go to see if anyone had arrived yet. You suppose you should go out and join him but it's sooo cold out there.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Stay inside, stay warm
Try to find Josh
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ao3-rex1223 · 12 hours ago
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𝕿𝖊𝖊𝖙𝖍 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕿𝖔𝖓𝖌𝖚𝖊𝖘
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Pairing: Werewolf!Leon x fem!reader
Tags: Pheromones, monster fucking, knotting, breeding, mating for life, slightly dubious consent (reader is into it), pussy eating, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, implied impregnation.
Summary: You and your friend Micah venture with a mysterious man, Leon, in the woods to look for a werewolf, unaware that Leon is the very creature you're hunting. Leon takes a liking to you and makes sure you want to stay with him.
“C’mon, don’t tell me you're scared,” your friend Micah taunts. He looks down on you with crossed arms, his smirk daring you to acquiesce to his challenge. Your friends, all sitting in the living room of your shared house, show various expressions, ranging from annoyance to copies of Micah’s confident stare. 
“There’s no such thing as werewolves, Micah! That’s ridiculous!” you defend yourself, leaning forward in your seat and glaring at his audacity. What is he; a child?
“Where’s your Halloween spirit, wussy?” Micah fires back. “And who says there’s no such thing as werewolves? The stories about them have been around for hundreds of years. They wouldn’t be so popular if there wasn’t some truth to them,” he rationalized. “I even know a guy who can tell us all about ‘em!” Micah gestures for the door. “So, come on, fraidy cat! Let’s go!”
You roll your eyes hard, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. You gracefully rise from your spot on the couch. “Fine, I’ll go if you shut up after this. And when I prove you wrong, I’m publishing an article about it in the university paper with a giant picture of your shocked, stupid face!”
Micah smirks with an air of victory. You both hop in his pick-up, bound for the edge of the city where there’s a dense forest. As you pull off of the road and onto the mixture of dirt and grass, the car lights illuminate a man standing near the woods. He’s a tall, thickly built blonde, maybe only a couple years older than you and your roommates. He wears a dark gray T-shirt and cargo pants, leaning leisurely against a tree. He watches you and Micah curiously. The man makes you uneasy, at best. Something tells you that you shouldn’t trust him. As soon as you step out of Micah’s truck, the man’s eyes snap to you, but not in the way that one takes in the arrival of a new person…he looks at you like he’s been searching for you, waiting for you for months…years…centuries. Those eyes…those intense eyes look into your very soul. 
“Micah…I think we should leave…” you whisper, the entirety of this mystery man's existence unsettling you. 
“Don't be ridiculous,” Micah scolds, throwing your earlier insult to him right back in your face.
“Please Micah! This place is creeping me out!” Well, not the place so much as the inhabitant.
“Hey, Leon!” Micah shouts, ignoring your complaints. You watch as he casually approaches the man who finally turns his glance to Micah, with none of the reverence he gave you. He looks at Micah like it's a chore. “Micah,” the man greets noncommittally with a baritone voice, smooth as butter. His eyes return to you, like you're a precious piece of art he simply enjoys viewing. You find yourself getting a bit lost in his eyes then quickly shake your head and look away.
You hear Micah call your name. “This is Leon, our town’s foremost werewolf expert!”
A devilish smirk slowly creeps across Leon's face as he hears Micah’s words. “Oh no, I just read a lot of crap online,” he jokes, his gaze never leaving you. 
“Thanks for meeting us here,” Micah adds. He holds out his hand for Leon to shake. Leon finally turns his head to face Micah and begrudgingly returns the handshake with a forced smile. 
“I had nothing else going on,” Leon replies and turns to face you. Still addressing Micah, he asks, “Who's your gorgeous friend?”
Micah laughs as if he thought Leon was making fun of you by calling you ‘gorgeous’. Leon shoots him a quick and annoyed, almost offended, glance before approaching you. “What's your name, sweetheart?” He gently lifts your hand and kisses your knuckles.
You feel your stomach fill with butterflies and somehow, you're embarrassed to admit, your pussy begins to heat up and tingle, slick starting to trickle into your panties. With a hard swallow, you open your mouth to answer him when Micah interrupts and tells Leon your name himself. Leon narrows his eyes and glares at Micah, still holding your hand tenderly in his. He turns back to you and purrs your name. “Beautiful.”
“Hey, we gonna look for some werewolves or not?” Micah asks impatiently. His frustrated stare lingers on your and Leon’s joined hands. “I didn't bring her here so you could gawk at her!”
Leon snorts, glaring at Micah as if he’s thoroughly surprised by his audacity. We should leave, you think to yourself. Something about this guy seems dangerous…
After the tense exchange between Micah and Leon, the three of you set off into the forest, Leon having positioned himself strategically between you and Micah. While you venture forward, Leon recounts his vast knowledge about local werewolf legend. “The one here is the son of the original werewolf in this area. And he wasn’t always a beast…he was once only a man. He was cursed by witches who inhabited this area…you know, before all the Salem Witch Trial stuff.” He chuckles almost with a hint of satisfaction that so many women were killed. What’s wrong with this guy? You ask yourself. He continues, “But when you’re the son of a werewolf, you don’t have all of the power and glory when you’re born…you have to earn your stripes, so to speak,” he explains. You notice that all this time, Leon has been talking to you and barely acknowledging Micah who walks silently beside. 
“How?” you ask, surprised by your sudden question. You catch yourself feeling a little enthralled. 
He smirks, pleased by your interest. He leans in so only you can hear and whispers, “Mating.”
Your eyes widen a bit as the comment hits you way harder than you would have thought. Your heart races, your body tingles, and your cunt warms and leaks slick. What is happening to me?
Leon straightens once more and continues on, “Once a werewolf pup grows up and finds his mate, he achieves his full potential; a potent motivator to breed, if you will. As if there wasn't already enough.” His eyes bore into yours, locking your gazes together; you couldn’t look away if you wanted to…
“So where do we find this guy? I gotta meet him!” Micah chimes in enthusiastically. 
Leon snorts with a light smirk and subtle eyeroll. “No one has actually seen him…but there are a few reports every year of hikers mysteriously going missing. They say it’s the work of the beast sating his hunger for human flesh…”
Micah huffs out a proud laugh. “I knew it!”
“Like that’s proof!” you shout back at Micah in response with your nose upturned. 
Micah leans in to Leon, who still looks thoroughly annoyed by Micah’s mere presence, and whispers, “She’s a non-believer.”
“Is that so?” Leon turns to you and murmurs, “You don’t have to believe it for it to be true, sweetheart.” Another shiver runs down your spine, drawing you to him even more. 
It’s like every time he looks at you, you feel this magnetic pull towards him get stronger and stronger. Your mind starts to swirl with images of his hands all over you, touching and caressing your curves, cupping your breasts, and fingering your tight cunt. You swallow hard and hope he can’t see you blush. “If we’re lucky, we’ll come across his cabin…I’ve seen it before myself…but never the beast.”
“Have you been inside?” you ask, your eyes glued to his handsome, chiseled face.
“Sure, I have,” he confirms. He lifts his hand to trail a finger gently along your jawline. A shiver runs through you at his touch. “Would you like to?”
“Yes,” you reply as if in a trance. Leon smiles as he leans in, his lips closing the distance from yours. 
“Hey! There’s the cabin!” you hear Micah exclaim happily. The trance breaks at the sudden noise and you move away from Leon. Just then, you swear you hear a low growl coming from him…but you shake your head and chalk it up to the ambience of the forest and the background noise. 
You take a moment to compose yourself and move toward where Micah is standing. “Let's get this over with.” Your eyes find the cabin. It's simple, plain. There's no lights on, so maybe whoever lives there isn't home…or maybe they're asleep. 
“Let's go inside!” Micah starts for the cabin, his steps crunching the leaves underneath his shoes. 
You grab the hood of his sweatshirt and yank him back. “Micah! We are not breaking and entering someone's home!”
“Werewolves don't care about the law!” Micah argues. You give him a dumbfounded stare, wondering if he realizes how ridiculous he sounds. 
“Micah! This goes one of two ways! Either your stupid werewolf theory is true, and you walk into his…lair and he rips your face off! Or, the more likely explanation, it belongs to some hermit who's fed up with society, and you walk in just to get your face blown off by a double barrel shotgun!”
Leon chuckles from behind you. You turn to face him. “What's so funny?” You try to hide how affected you are by his sexy laugh.
He turns to Micah briefly. “You go ahead. There's no one in the cabin. Go poke around.”
“What!?” You reply in disbelief. 
Leon offers you a charming, reassuring smile. “Trust me,” he says, his warm eyes soothing you. Micah begins to walk towards the cabin, but you barely notice as your gaze is locked again with the mysterious man who feels more familiar by the minute. 
“Good girl,” he purrs softly. He reaches out and places his hand on your shoulder, feeling you shiver. His eyes widen just a bit and his smirk grows. “Are you cold, little one?” He gently pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. “C’mere.” His body is warm, warmer than it should be, especially since he's only wearing a T-shirt. 
He nuzzles the crown of your head, carefully taking in your scent. “You smell so good.” His embrace tightens almost imperceptibly. He groans, low and soft, almost a growl and you start to think it really was him a moment ago…
His hands rub your back and his lips begin gently brushing against your temple. He lets out a quiet moan. You feel a soft kiss graze your cheek. You don't hear your own delicate whimper; you're too focused on the rampant tingling and slick cream leaking into your panties. Fuck, no one has made you feel this way in your entire life…which may be why you're still a virgin. For now…the scandalous thought burrows its way into your consciousness. Lying with this man feels less like a strange, crazy idea and more like a necessity; an inevitably.
Leon chuckles, clearly noticing your reaction, and you can feel him smirking against your supple skin. He plants a few more kisses to your face, each one stoking your desire like a carefully woven spell. Your heart dances in your chest, aching to jump out of your throat. His lips finally find yours and with his tender kiss, your knees nearly buckle. The molding of your lips against his heats up and turns more feral; before you know it, you're pinned against a tree with his hot body covering yours and your arms firmly around his neck. The night is chilly and yet you're on fire! You lose track of the noises you're making, lost in the haze of his dizzying aura. His tongue slides into your mouth, making you gasp slightly. You can feel the beginnings of his thick cock hardening, and you can tell that if things go well tonight, he's going to split you in half! Somehow, that doesn't deter you, though. This man will swallow you whole and you'll let him with a big grin on your face. 
“Guys there's nothing in there!” You hear Micah shout from near the cabin. You hear Leon mutter ‘fuck’, then he begrudgingly releases you. Micah trots over to you two, looking disappointed. “It's just a boring, old hunter’s cabin.” He sighs heavily. “You were right,” he admits to you. “Let's head home.”
No!
You don't want to leave!
“Um, you go ahead…I'll catch a ride back with Leon…” you say. Micah quirks a brow at you. 
“What?” He asks. “You didn't even want to come out here in the first place.”
“I'm more than happy to return her home later,” Leon chimes in. 
Micah looks unsettled, distrusting. He reaches for your arm to try and lead you away. Leon steps in front of you, unwilling to let Micah take you from him. “I believe she said she wants to stay with me.” Leon's eyes, hardened and threatening, bore into Micah who backs away. He watches your expression which only supports Leon’s claim. 
“Well…okay, I guess…be careful, okay?” Micah replies before turning to head to his car. You nod, having no doubt in your mind that you're safe with Leon.
Leon turns to face you, his eyes full of hunger. “Let's get you inside where it’s warmer, yeah?” He wraps his arm around you and guides you to the cabin. 
Puzzled, you turn to him and ask, “wait…why are we…?”
He smirks and chuckles. “It's my cabin, sweetheart.” He opens the door leading you inside. It's a simple cabin, a nice soft couch, a fireplace, a full kitchen, and a hallway that you assume leads to a bedroom and bathroom. 
“Why didn't you just tell Micah that?”
“Because I wanted to be alone with you,” he reveals as nonchalantly as one might discuss the weather. He steps toward the mantle and lights the fire to warm the cabin. There's something soothing about the warmth that comes from a genuine fire. It's as though it warms your soul as well as your body.
Leon returns to you and guides you to the couch. He wraps his arm around you once more, continuing where you left off in the woods. His lips find your delicate neck and the lustful tingles begin to swirl inside you once more. 
“I still don't understand…why do you live out here in the woods by yourself?” you ask, your brain getting fuzzy as arousal starts to overtake your logical reasoning. 
Leon pauses his sensual ministrations. He smirks, chuckling somewhat maniacally. “My father built this cabin…no one wants to live in town with a monster.” He resumes his licking and sucking of your neck. His palm reaches up to cup your breast. 
You force a laugh, thinking he's just trying to be funny. “Oh yeah, I forgot, you and Micah are both into the whole werewolf thing.” A moan escapes your lips as his hand palms your plushy mound.
He pulls back to look into your eyes, his groping hand sliding back to your waist. “It's true, sweetheart. The creature you were both looking for tonight is none other than me.” His pupils seem to glow an ominous shade of gold, but you explain it away by attributing it to the glow of the fireplace. 
“Haha, very funny.”
“I'm not joking,” he replies somewhat darkly.
“Oh c'mon, Leon…werewolves aren't real.” You scoff, thinking he's just trying to scare you. 
He pulls away from you and stands. “I guess I should bring you back home then.”
“Wait what? I-I don't want to leave yet…” you sit on the couch, shocked. 
“I'm not going to mate with you if you won't even listen to me. It'd be far too traumatic for you.”
“Leon, what are you talking about? It's just sex…sure I've never done it before but…I still want to…with you…”
“It's not just sex. It's mating,” he argues, “if we do this, I get my full powers. I'll gain the ability to shift into a full werewolf whenever there's a full moon.”
“Leon, this is-”
“Crazy?” he asks sarcastically, turning to stare into your eyes. “Tell me, do you normally jump into bed with guys you just met?”
You recoil slightly from his risque question. “No, never.”
“Then why are you here with me now?” He asks, obviously trying to lead you to a particular conclusion.
His challenge stumps you. “I-” You pause, trying to rationalize why you're so eager to offer your untouched body to this man you met mere hours ago. “I don't know…”
“Pheromones, sweetheart. Werewolf pheromones,” he explains. At your curious expression he continues, “I release pheromones to attract a mate. I only needed a few hours to let them work.”
“So…I'm like…drugged into wanting you?” You start to feel tricked. 
“Not exactly. The pheromones only decrease your inhibitions, letting you pursue what you truly want. Believe me sweetheart, you want me just as much as I want you.”
His explanation makes sense and yet still sounds crazy…but how else can you explain how badly you want him even though you just met!?
“So…why can we just…you know?”
“Oh, we can…but you need to understand what's going to happen when we do.”
You stare at him, waiting for his explanation. 
“Werewolves mate for life. If we do this, you're mine. Forever. I'll breed you until it takes. I want a lot of pups from you.”
His words hit you like a blow to the head. Though you don't quite believe him, you can tell he's as serious as a heart attack. “C'mon Leon you don't really believe-”
“Hey, if you don't believe me, you can walk away now, I won't stop you,” he explains with a shrug. 
You know you should walk away; this is all crazy! Yet, you can't. There's nowhere you want to be but here. It's like some otherworldly pull keeps you from running. You stay rooted in your place on the couch, refusing to leave. 
Leon smirks and rejoins you on the couch. He kisses you possessively. “As soon as I'm inside you, I'll change. Don't let it scare you. I promise, I will never hurt you.” He nibbles on your lip and his hand resumes its uninhibited exploration. “Are you truly a virgin, little one?” he purrs. 
It's all you can do to answer through the mind numbing pleasure he's making you feel with every touch. You nod with an affirmative moan. 
“Perfect. Then our bond will be even stronger.” He smiles almost victoriously, thrilled by your admission. His hungry grin only grows as he begins removing your clothes. “Don't need these.” His lips and teeth take in every inch of your body, little by little. Each stiff peak of your breasts and each luscious curve of your waist meets his hot mouth in pleasure inducing suction and nibbling. Your mouth runs dry as you writhe beneath him, never wanting to leave his arms. 
His torturous kisses move to your inner thighs and he takes in your intoxicating scent. “Mine,” he growls, staring into your eyes as his lips descend on your dripping wet cunt. Pleasure surges through you, dowsing your nerves with delightful tingles. His tongue swirls around your clit, caressing it, mapping out each slippery centimeter of your delicious sex. He keeps his gaze locked with yours until the salivating taste of you pushes him into a frenzy. His lids close and he moans as he continues to eat you out. 
You're writhing in ecstasy, breaths hot and ragged as his masterful tongue devours you. He hikes your legs over his shoulders as your contortions become more erratic so he can hold you in place. He's not one to let his meal escape. His tongue slips inside your tight, virgin channel, coaxing even more unholy noises from your throat. He's got you, hook, line, and sinker. You're in deep and you have no desire to get out. 
“Cum for me, little mate,” he purrs. His tongue returns to your clit as he slips two fingers inside your tight hole. Panting, you let out a hungry wail, a cry of passionate euphoria. The band of hot arousal inside you snaps, your walls clamping down on the fingers inside you.
Leon continues to work you through your climax, stroking that sensitive spot in your vault. You feel a sudden rush of fluid from your oversensitive entrance, a complete shock to you. 
“That's it, my pet,” Leon growls and laps up your essence like it's from the fountain of youth. His shoulders keep your legs high and thus your body pinned as you ride out the aftershocks. When the last wave subsides, you collapse onto the couch, limp but perfectly satisfied. “We're gonna need more space for what comes next…” Leon announces cryptically. He lifts you into his arms and carries you to his bedroom. He manhandles you onto his large bed, on your stomach. He disrobes, all while staring hungrily at your naked form. He growls in approval. “So fucking perfect. My little mate. Gonna breed you now.” He crawls in bed behind you, lifts your hips into the air, and gently rubs your ass. You're gushing slick yet again in anticipation, your desire to carry his offspring as strong as his. 
“Please Leon…breed me…” you beg, your mind complete mush at this moment. 
Leon groans and grips his cock, prodding the tip against your slick heat. Your heart pounds in your chest as he presses slowly inside, the burning sensation you feel a delicious pain. He pushes further, stretching you, molding you to fit his massive girth. You let out a long, desperate moan and rock your hips back to take more of him inside you.
He grips your hips tight and slides in the rest of the way, his hips against your ass. You feel a sudden surge in heat coming from his body. He groans again, this time sounding strained as well as aroused. His growls become deeper, more gruff and you feel his length inside you shifting…changing. It grows even thicker and longer, the tip crushed against your cervix. “L-Leon…what's happening?” You turn your head, eyes blurry but perceptive enough to see none other than a massive furry beast looming over you, it's massive cock buried inside you. “Oh my God…” you whimper, breath taken away. Your first instinct is to scream, but a sudden feeling of peace and acceptance washes over you. It's Leon…your Leon. You know it is. You can see it in his eyes. 
You nod subtly, granting him permission to continue. His long, hairy claws wrap around your waist as he begins to thrust hard inside you. He leans down, growling possessively. He licks your neck then bites gently, enough to leave a mark but not enough to break skin. Your body feels so full. You drop your head down to gaze at your belly, seeing the bulge that forms each time he fills you. The sight makes you moan louder. The hot juices from your stretched sex coat his red, throbbing cock. Your eyes widen when you see a knot forming at the base of his length, fat, thick. You resume rocking your hips back against his thrusts, fucking yourself on his cock as much as he is you.
His movements become more frenzied and you know he's close. His grip on your hips tightens further, claws digging into your flesh. The knot, fully inflated, knocks on the entrance to your quivering pussy. Each time making you moan and beg for it. “Please Leon…fuck…knot me!”
With a loud, wall shaking howl, his knot breeches your cunt, locking you together. The pressure, combined with his cock stroking your g-spot, sends you spiraling again, cumming hard and screaming his name. He stills inside you, his cock buried deep, knot locked in place. You feel the hot jets of his cum filling you up, so much so it leaks around him. 
Dizzy from your shared orgasm, you fall limp on the bed, exhausted but fulfilled beyond measure. Leon lowers himself on his forearms, gently pressing his warm fur to your back. He licks your neck tenderly, soft howls filling the room. 
It's a seemingly endless night, Leon breeding you over and over and over. When the sun begins to rise and his werewolf form fades, he cradles your exhausted body in his arms, human hands coming to rest over your stomach, wishful thinking for your fertile womb. “Mine,” he purrs again.
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nanamis-bigtie · 10 hours ago
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party circle
↬ choso, geto, gojo & ino x afab!reader | lucid love ↬ lucid love masterlist // jjk masterlist // ao3 version
cw: smut, reader has a vagina (more detailed description of genitalia), college au, drunk sex, cumdumpster, group sex, piv sex, blow job, rough sex, reader is called "doll" and "thing", sprinkle of degradation and dumbification summary: you've been dared to offer yourself as a cumdumpster during a party - and you're not a wimp. you haven't expected what kind of team is going to pay you a visit word count: 2.6k a/n: yes, i am aware this text is squeezed, i have run myself against my own word limit and i still crossed it ahem tag list: @thesacredfanfics
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After an hour in almost complete darkness, doing nothing but staring at the ceiling, you start to wonder if this all wasn't just a mean, drunk prank. Or another stupid test of courage, company's favorite. The party downstairs is flickering out, the voices and steps are fading, and none are heading towards you, lying half-naked in the host's guest bedroom and slowly going cold. Your heart is still fluttering like crazy and you're perking your ears for any sound nearby, but the level of your excitement is inexorably heading towards disappointment. All the commotion for nothing.
If not for your pride—and gut feeling telling you someone is secretly watching the door in case you chicken out—you would have already pulled your bottoms back up and returned to the living room. A bet is a bet, it still counts as won if someone else wimps out.
But eventually someone does come. More than one person even, you soon realize when the voices become more distinct, and you can pick some words. A few men are climbing the stairs, bantering on their way and laughing, one of them rather reluctant, you assume by the constant harsh chatter and steps heading downstairs from time to time. You can't follow the conversation but after a few tugs back and forth, you learn there are four of them, and at least one of the voices is... too familiar. Your heart, racing a moment ago, sinks; if it's someone from your class or the club, you're done for. You thought you're a solo player here, you got into the party with the invitation of a friend from outside of your college circle, and all the faces you passed by tonight were all new to you. But with so many guests gathered in a spacious house, the probability of running into someone you knew wasn't that close to zero.
When the men finally make it to the floor and stop in front of the door, you almost stop breathing. Are they looking for a free bathroom—or are they here for you? The uncertainty tears you apart the stronger, the more conflicted your thoughts grow. You don't want to find out the hard way if someone you know is in this group. But...you don't really want them to be gone, either. If you already mustered courage and offered yourself as a free-to-use party dumpster, drunk brain or not, not making that one crucial step would haunt you like a ghost. Were you surrounded by cowards? Or assholes who couldn't appreciate your body? No, with the number of advances made on you tonight, you can't really deem yourself unappreciated.
The shade of unanswered questions would remain, though. But luckily for you, the problem quickly solves itself.
"C'mon, man, don't be such a wimp." This voice is not the familiar one but comes from so close that you could swear the man is standing right by the bed. "It's likely just a stupid joke anyway."
The answer is too dull for you to understand and soon it drowns in laughter. The door creaks open, just enough to let a narrow wisp of light sneak into the room. You narrow eyes, blinded after such a long time in darkness, but you can pick silhouettes of four men peeking inside over each other. All stare right at the exposed and illumined part of your body: your left leg and hip, your cunt, and a bit of your torso and face. Instinct yells at you to cover yourself, you spread your legs wider instead, with no word spoken and hoping your guests have enough sober brain cells to connect the dots.
"It's...not a joke." The man from the previous line stands right in the front and his voice falters a little. The other right behind his back, shamelessly resting chin on his shoulder, whistles with appreciation.
"Hey, Kamo, you're in luck today," he turns around and flicks the light on. "I think that's Y/N."
Kamo? Choso Kamo? Why HIM of all familiar people who possibly could wander into this party?
You're hanging on a string of hope that maybe, just maybe, there are more guys going by this family name, and the one here is not Choso, your club crush, but once your eyes get used to light and all four of them step inside, you understand how screwed you are even before they pull their dicks out.
It is Choso, the reluctant one, leaning against the door with arms crossed and looking everywhere but at your face, his own scarlet red to the tips of his ears. But what's even worse, you recognize the other three as well. 
Suguru Geto, probably the most wanted man at your college, skimming your figure curiously from his spot at the front. 
Leaning against him, Satoru Gojo, the star of the football team and his best friend, currently shamelessly staring right at your cunt. 
More reserved than those two but as interested Takuma Ino, your friend's ex fuck buddy and a notorious party animal.
"It's been a while, huh?" He's the one who tries to initiate conversation, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to another. "This is not some crazy prank, right?"
"A bet, I heard." You understand now why Satoru has always been described as equally weird and handsome; the way his gaze is drilling into you sends shivers down your spine. And you can't decide if you hate it...or quite contrary.
With Choso staying behind, the men surround the bed, and you can't shake off the impression that they're cornering you like prey. Neither of them pounces on you though, the awkward tension almost unbearable—but at the same time clearly exciting for everyone involved. With initial shock fading away, replaced by the same excitement that prompted you to boldly announce in which room you're waiting for anyone as brave as you, you're slowly getting back into the groove. Racing heart pumps hot blood into the right veins, simmering lust perks its head up, your muscles relax and allow you to spread your legs as far as you can. Invitingly, you hope, and from the surrounding faces you can read you're understood well.
"Alright, doll, we gotta turn you around, or our virgin won't budge from his place." Satoru shamelessly pulls you to the edge of bed, then flips you face down. Another pair of hands helps you lift your hips until you find a comfortable and stable position.
"Shit, look at that..." Wooden floor creaks as one of them kneels down, his breath so hot against your exposed slit. He traces it with a thumb, gently, but enough to make your breathing heavier. "All wet and ready."
Someone else's big and warm hands knead your ass and spread your cheeks open. Curious thumb grazes your clit, long fingers slide inside you, two at once, and reach so deep your eyes roll into the back of your head. Long wait has worked up your appetite, your heat has built itself up steady and exploded as soon as your cunt has been touched. They soon grow bolder too, encouraged by your dripping slick and noises you make. The banter and dirty praises melt into white noise behind your back, mixed with the clicks of unbuckled belts and pants shoved down to the ankles. 
Someone's impatient cock slots itself against your rim, steals a shallow, wet thrust, followed by laughter from the other two. The eager one is pulled away, hungry hands leave your cunt empty and pulsing, not without a disappointed whine of yours. You wiggle your hips, the craving of being filled stronger than the prior awkwardness and your pride.
"Virgins come first." It's Takuma's voice that breaks through the white noise. 
A few steps creak back, there's a short tussle and the fourth man is forced to come closer. In the last moment of clear-headedness, your heart skips a beat; you fight against the instinct to look back at Choso. You've been turned around for a reason, despite temptation you want to respect it. You can't control the excited spasm of your cunt, though, much to men's loud enthusiasm.
"C'mon, don't make Y/N wait."
There's hesitation in Choso's touch. He reaches for you with both hands, just tracing your ass and hips at first, before he gives your curve the first, testing squeeze. You hear him groan, sound barely audible yet standing out with its characteristic timbre. You would recognize this knee-melting voice everywhere—and in this situation you react to it hundreds times stronger. You shove your hips back, bumping against his crotch, feeling the outline of his erection through his pants.
He groans again, nails sinking into your skin almost painfully.
Someone helps him with his pants when he's holding on to you for his dear life. He lets go of you with one hand, just enough to line himself up and guide his awkward thrusts towards your entrance. Clumsiness and need behind his moves drive you crazy; he's really losing his v-card with you, just like that, watched by his friends, drunk, with a party toy you've become. And as much as you want to make it easier for him, as soon as his throbbing length slots itself in you, finally easing the itching craving, you squeeze him tight and push your hips against him. 
You want everything he can offer, the sooner, the better.
"Fuck..." Choso mutters through clenched teeth, his pulse running crazy as you clench again, stronger. He won't last long, you can tell as much despite the fever overpowering every single one of your senses. Fuck, indeed. The thought of milking him dry so early adds fuel to burning fire; you take over the situation and grind against him, forcing him to follow suit with his awkward, desperate thrusts, until he suddenly stills and fills you up, with the most pathetic, beautiful moan you've heard from a man.
He starts leaning over your back, his hot breath nearly brushing against your skin, but he's pulled away as fast as he's been dragged to mount you. A different hand kneads your ass; it's Takuma, you guess from the breathy whimper he lets out when he's sliding the head of his cock between your wet folds. He doesn't lose his time either, soon filling your hungry cunt again and rutting inside, short but deep and strong thrusts.
"Squeezin' tight," he growls, shifting the weight and balance of your bodies forward. He places one hand on your back and pushes you down, forcing you to arch your hips and take him even deeper.
You risk a glance over your shoulder. Vision hazy and set under a weird angle, you can't see much but Takuma's face, flushed and beaming with pleasure, and Satoru peeking curiously at your entrance, working hard to swallow every single one of the thrust. He's stroking himself, the tip of his tongue peeking through his lips, so engrossed by the show he's almost bearing down on Takuma's back. Neither of them seem to notice, only one goal on their minds.
You're almost brought to your high this time but Takuma is there first, his last thrust almost tripping you over with the unexpected power. You end up pushed into the mattress, the sights mercilessly yanked away from you, and the next man in line doesn't give you a chance to collect himself.
Satoru is much bigger than the other two. His size takes you by surprise; you mewl loud at the sudden stretch, then almost scream when he slots himself so deep that he's poking at your cervix. He doesn't show you mercy at all, both hands holding your hips in place as he's fucking the brain out of you like a jackhammer. It's brutal, it's almost painful, it's so fucking good you're moaning and crying at the same time. The stretch and friction are frying your nerves; you're yanked into orgasm with his thrusts alone, and he doesn't stop even for a second, instead forcing you to stay still, one foot resting at the edge of the bed. Against his strength, you're nothing but a puppet, a sex toy he's moving with no regards for your state.
But even he has limits and soon you're again filled to the brim. You're not able to hold it inside any longer, the mix of cum and your juices drips out of your used hole as your legs tremble, without the support soon to collapse. The last man comes to your aid, his hold is surprisingly tender but as strong as Satoru's. He takes his time, the privilege of the last in the queue, making sure you're stable and collected before he steals the first thrust, shallow, just enough to slide his tip against the mess.
You're trembling from just this little, so overstimulated you're seeing white even without orgasm.
"You poor thing," Suguru coos and traces free hand against your sweaty back. "He's ruined you so much, that monster."
Satoru scoffs, the mattress dips by your side as he throws himself right next to you. He holds your chin and forces you to look at him. The sadistic, almost maniac, look in his terrifying eyes has your cunt fluttering.
"Be careful, poor thing," he mimics Suguru and slides a thumb between your lips. "He's the real monster here."
In contrast, Suguru moves so gently it's...frustrating. He gathers the cum leaking out of you with the head of his cock before he slides it into you slow and deep, then stills until frustration takes over you and makes you find some power to press hips against him.
He clicks his tongue, laughter shadowing over his words, "Don't be like that. You need to savor your strength."
Suguru moves so slow, terrifying with his precision for the first time he's having you. He touches you more than just having you in place, he traces your sides, back, nape, pinches your nipples and meticulously wanders down again, between your shaking thighs. You almost choke on sharp inhale when he rubs your clit, your mewls held back by Satoru's thumb fucking your mouth, then by his big tongue sliding deep inside. Looking for breath, you try to shake him off—Suguru's hold, fingers knotted tight in your hair, forces you to stay still, until you're shaking and melting, and Satoru has to withdraw.
"Don't be too rough," Takuma is on your other side, sounding concerned but still stroking himself, as far as you're aware by the sounds.
"We're just playing." Suguru's voice is sweet like honey, soft and comforting—and you believe him, let him coax you into comfort before he shows his true colors again and yanks you up and straight by your hair. 
Eyes filled with tears, you try to support yourself on trembling arms and ease the tension in your scalp and neck. Merciless hand guides you to other side, right into Choso's cock poking at your lips. You catch a glimpse of his face, bright pink with a blush but his eyes are dark with lust, gaze fixed at your tongue instinctually lolled out of your mouth. Takuma nudges him closer, almost forces him to slip himself into you, the tip of his dick poking at the back of your throat and making you gag.
Satoru's hand replaces Suguru's; he uses your head to get Choso off as the other man speeds up his thrusts, using your cunt without any mercy now. He pulls almost completely out right before he cums, his seed leaking out of your used hole. Next in line Takuma doesn't bother to shove it back, his thrusts push more of it out, the whole mess dripping on the sheets.
I need to pay for cleaning, the last thought crosses your mind before it gives in to pleasure—no, to ecstasy, no more sanity, just waves of your high washing over you over and over again as their cocks fill your cunt and mouth in turns and you're nothing but a trembling mess.
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minnie-binjin · 2 days ago
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∞︎︎MERCY∞︎︎
MDNI 18+ ONLY
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genre: smut!! MDNI.
You never thought that this situation would actually ever happen not now or even at all, but when Jeongin brought it up to you, it was adorable how excited and gentle he had talked to you about it.
Now, here you were with a vibrator inside you at the movie theater with friends, and your boyfriend had the remote control all your pleasure, and no one else knew it, but you two. Was it risky? Of course, but was it also slightly exciting and interesting? Absolutely. But at this point, all the teasing and edging you had been put through had you out of it, the remainders from him to stay quiet, the touching he had been doing, and not to mention all the sweet praises that came out of his mouth as he left you hanging by of thread from the intense levels of the remote the was being switch on and off constantly making you rotten and needy for what felt like hours.
"Awh...My pretty girl, look at you so tired and horny you can't even focus, huh?" Jeongin teased quietly as he began rubbing at your thigh. Hitching higher touching at your clit, rubbing slowly as he kisses at your fucked out face
"You've been so good, I'll say you deserve a reward, hm? Do you think so, baby?" He asked, seeming genuine about his question, grabbing at your face waiting to see how you would respond. As you stare at his dark eyes, your head begins to move eagerly fast, wanting to make it clear that you want to cum so bad.
Jeongin frowned, almost as if he was disappointed at your answer. "I want words, baby. Do you deserve it? Do you deserve to cum?" He asked again being more specific about what he wants to hear and how he wanted to hear it.
"Yes....I do I've been good, right? Please let me cum." You begged shamelessly, not caring about all the ears around and if they can hear your pleads to cum.
Jeongin just stares completely hypnotized by your desperate state, tracing his fingers along your fucked out face. Moving all the hair out of your face to take a good look at you, all he saw was beauty.
"Keep yourself together for me? I know it'll feel amazing, but let's not get caught hm." Jeongin stared at you as you shook your head rapidly, not caring but just needing to cum, to let go. That's when you felt the intensity of the vibrator increased. It felt so good, as your eyes basically roll back in so much pleasure. You grab at Jeongin's leg, clawing at the skin as you try to compose yourself.
"C'mon baby, let go. Cum for me." Jeongin says looking at the screen but listening to the undeniable pleasure you were feeling, before you could try to babble anything out you felt your release. Quiet broken moans leave your mouth, shaking and jointly involuntarily as your high leaves you, breathing in and out heavily as you relax in your seat.
As the movie ends, everyone walks out, including you and Jeongin. "Geez, that movie was so good, don't you think so Y/n?"
Looking up at your friends, unable to muster up some type of response. You look around slightly confused on what you watched exactly, "I-um sure! Really well made, I guess?" You reply, shrugging as you look to Jeongin smiling, leaving the movie to help him with his own "problem."
The end!
I'm sorry for no tags. I just kinda hate them, so
:(( Bare with me on this one!
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neteyamssock · 2 days ago
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🧸ྀི 𝓲 𝓱𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾
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ྀི 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚: neteyam x fem!metkayina!reader
ྀི 𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: neteyam wants to know why you dislike him so much.
ྀི 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧: 2k
ྀི 𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗦: misunderstanding, sfw, miscommunication, etc.
➻ a/n: wrote this while eating breakfast and its unedited. i hate it lmao.
text divider credits to @/cafekitsune
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“She's so loud, does she think everyone is deaf?”
Neteyam watches you kick Ao’nung as you whine about your stolen prey, going as far as throwing stones into his direction. Frankly speaking, Neteyam finds you extremely immature and childish, even more so than Tuk.
Lo’ak snickered on his side, tossing a piece of shattered shell in the water and watched it disappear. “You’re the only one that kept complaining about her, bro. People here don't seem to mind.”
Neteyam sneered, picking up a shell beside and observing it as he spoke. “I’m sure they're just putting up with her because they cannot get rid of her.”
Lo’ak looked at his brother with amusement. Neteyam’s one sided beef with you is something none of the family expected, but he finds it interesting to see how his brother crumbles into self doubt when someone finally doesn't look at him like a god. “you’re just saying that because she doesn't like you like everybody else. you’re not used to being disregarded.”
He said it in a joking tone, but it only fanned the flames inside Neteyam. That is in fact one of the reasons why he came to dislike you very much aside from the fact that you're polar opposites. It was because right from the start, you never once showed any cordiality with him.
When the Sullys came into awa’atlu, as Tsireya and Ao’nung’s paternal cousin, you also tagged along in helping them learn the way of the water. At first, Neteyam finds you extremely interesting, like a breath of fresh air, but as time goes by and your treatment of him never changes, he also begins to resent you for it.
He’s not used to it. Just like Lo’ak said. All his life, he had done everything to please his family and the Omatikaya People, and even when they came to Awa’atlu, he had done his best in making everyone like him.
You're just one tough rock that he cannot crack no matter what he does. Smiles don't cut it. Fishes don't do it either. Pretty shells collected are a lot more mediocre than yours. He totally cannot figure you out. You seem to dislike him very much, going as far as pretending he doesn't exist. He was unprepared for it, a total disregard from someone he wanted to be close to from the very start.
“If I were you bro? I would talk to her about it and clear shit up rather than sulking everyday.” Lo’ak patted Neteyam’s shoulder as he stood up, ready to meet Tsireya half way as she walked back to the shore.
“what is there to talk about anyway?” Neteyam grumbled to himself, flicking the shells away in annoyance. Lo’ak just shrugged and walked away, totally enjoying seeing his perfect brother in dilemma.
The oldest sully once again looked at you as you play with Tuk and Kiri, seeing how happy you were with his sisters. Deep inside, he also knew why everyone loves you. Despite your loud mouth, you are always sincere. You always mean what you speak, and people appreciate your honesty and straightforwardness, well except for neteyam.
your questionable behavior directed towards him is getting on his nerves. he's at the end of his patience with you, but his self control is holding him back from erupting and asking what the hell is wrong with you.
days passed and the day for the bonfire communal feast arrived. neteyam had heard from his siblings that you and Tsireya are to dance and sing to eywa in celebration for the excellent results of the hunt done yesterday.
neteyam had never heard you sing, nor seen you dance. he never thought you could do those things, but based on his siblings' words, you're quite good and proficient. Tuk says your voice reminds her of eywa's gentle guidance, and your body as the ocean waves.
it's just another reminder that he never really knew you, that you built a wall around you to solely keep him out. that you could be free in front of his siblings but would be hard as a rock in front of him. how can you be so cruel?
"there's never gonna be any progress if you just sulk and sulk and sulk everyday. you have to understand that not everyone is obligated to like you."
neteyam glanced at his sister, bitterness in his tongue. "yea, real helpful sister."
"whatever," kiri rolled her eyes and focused on the kava in her hand, paying no attention to the distraught neteyam beside her.
when the tempo of the music changed and the people parted to reveal you and tsireya in the middle, neteyam felt his breath stolen away by your beauty. you are stunning, that he knew from the very start. he never expected to see you even more beautiful. you make him go crazy inside and he didn't even know why. no matter how you ignore him, he cannot do the same to you. you're always clouding his mind, making him sleepless every eclipse.
neteyam knew that he's being obvious by not taking his eyes off you the entire performance, he knew that his mother are looking at him every time his breath hitch like he couldn't breath, he knew that kiri is laughing at him, but he just cannot stop looking at you.
so when the time to dance with other members of the clan came, he didn't hesitate to stand up and walk towards you in hopes that he'd catch you and ask you for at least one dance.
"can i ask for a dance?" he asked, breathless and hopeful as he looked towards you.
he saw you hesitate, and his newfound confidence shattered. his lips trembled until you took his hand and murmured. "...just once."
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Tsireya looked at Neteyam’s yearning look directed at you and giggled to herself. Lo’ak also saw his face and snickered. “he totally has a crush on her! he’s just mad she doesn't pay attention to him.”
The younger metkayina girl’s eyes widened. Then, she quickly accepted it. It's not like she hadn't noticed that tension between you and Neteyam. She thought both of you will figure it out yourselves that's why she didn't interfere at all, but turns out both of you are dense enough that you're still not confronting each other about what you feel.
She looked at you and decided to finally help you out. Turning to her beloved, she said. “Sister does not dislike Neteyam. She's just like that to everyone she likes.”
It was Lo’ak’s turn to be wide-eyed. “No shit? Really?! I mean she never gave him a good look y'know? Totally acting like he doesn't exist…”
Tsireya pulled Lo’ak to sit with her in the sand. “Sister does not know how to deal with her feelings properly. When we were children, she once liked a boy from another clan that visited awa’atlu. He played with us all the time and really liked sister. But since she didn't know what to do, she accidentally made him cry before he and his family were about to leave. When the eclipse came, she cried so hard that it became everyone's favorite story to talk about during communal feasts.”
Lo’ak laughed but then slowly turned melancholic. Somehow, he relates to you. Often misunderstood because you cannot express yourself correctly, and it drives you to keep your thoughts on your own even more. “That’s sad… my brother… My brother is not really the one to pursue feelings. Back in the forest most of the girls our age liked him, some he was interested in, but really didn't bother doing something for it. He’s too busy taking care of us and training to be a good warrior. I don't know if he and your sister can even work it out at this point,”
Tsireya hummed, looking at you and to Neteyam every few seconds, before an idea formed in her mind. “I know exactly what to do!”
Lo’ak looked at his beloved’s bright face and can only pray for his brother’s well-being.
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sitting down after dancing with neteyam, you friend immediately sat beside you with a grin. "how does it feel to dance with your beloved?"
you rolled your eyes despite the racing of your heart. you cannot admit that you almost sang in joy when neteyam asked for a dance. you didn't even know what happened during the dance as you just gone blank. he might have thought you were uninterested as he left right after the first dance finished. although you felt at loss, you acted like nothing and continued dancing with others.
seeing you like this, your friend teased you even further. “why don't you just go and proclaim your intentions, hmm? that you want to mate with ne—”
you covered your friend's mouth, scared that someone might hear. "be quiet will you! what if someone hear?"
your friend shrugged, "then you'd probably be forced to confront your feelings and then there would be celebration for your uni---"
"impossible," you cut her off. "we are never possible right from the very beginning. he's from the forest, i'm from the ocean."
"so what? you are both na'vi and obviously liked each other."
you sneered. like you? impossible. why would someone as perfect as neteyam like you?
he's the most perfect na'vi you have ever seen. a skilled warrior, with kind and loyal heart, and would do everything for his beloved family. he's the son of Toruk Makto, admired and well-liked. you? you're just a daughter of a warrior, a niece to the olo-eyktan of the metkayina. you have no real status, no great skills like neteyam.
you do not deserve him. "eywa knows that's not true, sister. eywa knows."
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Walking into the lush greeneries of the island, you wonder where your friends are. Tsireya said she wanted everyone to gather in your secret place and play the demon’s game Truth or Dare. Although you detest sky demons, it didn't diminish your curiosity for their creations.
So against your better judgment, you still came when the eclipse started. Thankfully, you know your way in quite well and didn't get lost in your trek to the heart of the island.
As you went further, you began to notice the lack of noise your friends usually make. Lo’ak should be laughing boisterously by now, Tuk screaming, and Kiri wandering around. But no matter how you strain your ears, you don't hear any familiar noises.
So when you reached the hut where you and your friends planned to stay, you were shocked to see only Neteyam inside, seemingly waiting for everyone to show up.
Your feet froze and you cannot stop your heart from racing, hammering against your chest making you gasp for breath. Your heavy breathing was quickly noticed by Neteyam who was also surprised to see you.
The gears in your head turned and you already knew what your friends were doing. It must be Tsireya, who always can see through you and your thoughts. She must’ve conspired with everyone to deceive you and Neteyam.
Without thinking things through, you turned around and walked back to where you came from, but before you could even take a few steps, a hand forcefully held you back.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going home.”
“But shouldn't we wait for the others?”
Rolling your eyes, you pulled your arm out of his grip. “Don’t you understand? They set us up for their own amusement. Now, if you can please let me go. I can't be alone with you right now. I swear to Eywa I will feed that girl to an akula—”
“Why can’t you be alone with me? Do you hate me that much?!”
“What’s your problem?!” You glared at him when he pulled you again, his fingers digging into your shoulder.
“No, what is YOUR problem?!” He looked at you sharply, trying to mask the hurt he felt inside when he heard your words. He had always known you don't like him, but to hear you imply yourself definitely hurts the most. Shaking his head, he continued. “Y’know what? Perhaps this is the time we finally talk. So tell me now, ocean girl! What the hell is your problem with me!”
You let out an unbelievable huff, feeling ridiculous as you shouted back. “Me?! It’s you always shooting daggers at me every time we meet! Why is that my fault?!”
“Because you treat me like shit!”
Both you and Neteyam froze with his outburst. He looked rather regretful for allowing himself to be vulnerable, especially in front of you. His self control is crumbling away.
“I do not treat you like shit! Don’t make things up!”
“Oh yeah, right! Maybe you don't treat me like shit because you treat me like I don’t exist! Don’t act like you don't ignore me all the time, as if it's a great burden for you to even pay me any attention. I’m tired of your shit! So tell me, what is your problem, ocean girl, so we can finally end this farce!”
With mouth agape, you stared wide-eyed at Neteyam. You have never seen him this angry before. Most of the time he’s mellow and polite, always greeting you every time you hang out with his siblings. It's only recently that he had somehow changed, always glaring at you, shooting daggers at you every time you passed by.
You tried to explain but you cannot find the right words. Looking at you like this, it only solidified Neteyam’s belief. The hurt in his eyes was palpable, so he looked away. He can't let you see him so affected by you. His pride is the only thing he can cling to right now, as you have stripped away everything from him.
“What? Couldn't speak? Did I hit the mark, ocean girl?
You gasp, chest heaving so fast as your heart rammed against your ribs. You cannot look into his eyes, too afraid to let him see the feelings you are trying so hard to avoid. “...I-I don’t dislike you, I-I—”
“Liar! You can't even look me in the eye! Tell me the truth!”
“I-I don't want to!”
“Well guess what, you cannot leave this island without telling the truth. Tell me, and I’ll let you go.” His tone has mellowed, a hint of begging in his voice. His grip on your shoulder was tight, it was hurting you but you cannot ignore the voice in your head that urges you to just tell everything and end this ridiculous argument.
“tell me, how can make you like me?"
your heart skipped a beat, processing his words. like him? you already like him so much that it hurts. how can he ask you that?
seeing you silenced, Neteyam’s chest constricted. His eyes stung, but he tried so hard to never let you notice. He cannot crumble in front of you. He doesn't want you to have the satisfaction. He wanted to hear you say that you hate him. That you detest him. That you cannot stand the thought of being with him. So it would destroy him silently, and he can finally rebuild himself piece by piece.
“Tell me!”
“I hate you because I love you!”
“Bull—”
Neteyam paused, eyes wide as he looked at you in disbelief. Your tears finally fell like waterfall as your knees gave away and you sobbed into the ground. You finally said it. The reason why you cannot sleep at night. The reason you tried so hard to avoid Neteyam in fear that he’ll see through you, that he’d be disgusted with your feelings with him. You tried to mask your love as dislike to protect your heart, because you know if you give in you’d just be shattered. You know well how this would end. He would never be yours.
“I-I hate you so much, Neteyam! For making me feel this w-way! I hate you for changing my life and making me c-confused! I hate you for making me fall for you!”
“W-What—”
You stood up without waiting for his reply. With all your strength, you ran away from Neteyam. You didn't care if your feet were hurting, and when you bumped into someone you didn't look at who it was. All you wanted was to leave this place and never see Neteyam again.
Lo’ak looked at your disappearing back and patted his brother's shoulder. Neteyam was still standing like a statue, in shock, staring at the direction you had escaped to.
“Cat’s finally out of the bag, huh. Took you guys long enough. Congrats bro, you finally confessed to your cru—”
Before Lo’ak could even finish his words, Neteyam took off like his tail’s on fire, running after you with a huge triumphant grin on his face. Tsireya and Lo’ak looked at each other and laughed, proud of their successful plan.
“Looks like I won this bet. Kiri better pays up!”
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forwards-beckonrebound · 3 days ago
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ANHS au masterpost
we are currently in chapter 1 as of 10/29/24.
Characters available for questions right now, last edited 10/29/24:
- Noah
- Vanessa
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ANHS (A Normal HighSchool AU) is basically what its name is not. It's not a normal highschool au, very far from it.
Please take the time to read the content warnings below...
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CONTENT WARNING: murder, blood, suicide, abuse, neglect, and bullying. it's heavily recommended that you do not get attached to any character...
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Basic information - I will try to answer asks every 1-3 days, I struggle with fatigue.
Noah, Vanessa, Jessica, and Cynthia Elliott are the four most popular kids in school. Everyone knows about them, and if you don't, you live under a rock. Along with their friends, Lizzy, Thad, and Doll, they run CopperNine High like an unstoppable force, though it's really only during four stupid years...
But this life is everything to them, they just have to make it through highschool, while making it horrible for everyone else, especially Uzi Doorman... (and Doll, but she's never included.)
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Note: every character will have their flaws, including Noah. Do not expect any character to be perfect, you will be disappointed. Please follow along with the pacing of the story!
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ASK rules:
- no NSFW! Even though Jessica is 18, do not make any comments.
- send as many asks as you want, but try to limit yourself per each ask answered! That way I can get to all your asks without it moving on with the story too soon
- I do not take drawing requests at the moment! I'll make a separate rule list for this if I ever do.
- don't send any asks about N x V, V x J, or Jessa! They are family in this AU, and that would be weird. (Not to say I dislike these ships!)
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Temporary references!
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they will have fully fleshed out references soon. I want to focus on answering asks first.
Important character ages and grades listed below (they will age as the story progresses.)
Noah - 16 , sophomore
Vanessa - 17 , junior
Jessica - 18 , senior
Cynthia - 15 , freshman
Lizzy - 16 , sophomore
Thad - 16 , sophomore
Doll - 16 , sophomore
Uzi - 16 , sophomore
Official tag is: A Normal HighSchool AU and ANHS AU
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natequarter · 3 days ago
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just one last timeblr thing and then i swear
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💣 commiedyke Follow
just watched the president of gallifrey down a bottle of ibuprofen citing 'what's the worst it can do, kill me?' mum come pick me up i'm scared
💣 commiedyke Follow
ok so apparenly time lords are immune to ibuprofen. why did the professor not just tell me this when i asked
#ace speaks #literally he stood in front of me whilst i was watching all of this and said. nothing. #i was thinking romana might DIE and he said NOTHING #duuuude i hate this shitass plsnet
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👑 fred Follow
watching some 90s earth show with ace let's see how this goes
👑 fred Follow
oh no she's hot
#shut up romana #might have to use that as my next face... #also who thinks buffy and spike should kiss #btvs #<- new tag!
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💣 commiedyke Follow
hey why did the professor die and turn into a prettyboy
#ace speaks #like wtf not even a warning? #unwarranted #imagine if your dad turned into a cute edwardian one day and then he lost his memory #yeah i know my struggles are unique
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💣 commiedyke Follow
watching buffy with the lads (<- a couple of loser time lords + leela) let's see how badly this goes lol
💣 commiedyke Follow
UPDATE: romana just said the vampire lady was hot shit (not in those exact words but you get me) and tbh she's not wrong
💣 commiedyke Follow
her exact words were "i'd die to be her" btw
💣 commiedyke Follow
UPDATE 2: she did die to be her
🎻 the--adventurer8 Follow
yeah this has happened before :p
💣 commiedyke Follow
w. what do you mean. before. professor what do you mean before. professor????/
#ace speaks #he can't keep getting away with this
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⚔️ warqueenextraordinaire Follow
Just regenerated. Thoughts?
💣 commiedyke Follow
WHAT THE FUCK DUDE
⚔️ warqueenextraordinaire Follow
I'll take that as a no then
#Harsh
69 notes
🪨 vislorturlough Follow
guys i solved it. it's maff boy
✈️ donewiththisshit573 Follow
Can you fucking STOP
#he'll never know if he was right and you keep MOCKING HIM???
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💣 commiedyke Follow
leela just told me she doesn't have periods????? never mind 'other mammals don't do this' apparently other HUMANS don't do this? we can evolve that shit out??? brb killing myself
#ace speaks #more like ace SCREAMS amirite lads
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🚬 fitz-crier Follow
ineed hium ttothrow me intotthe hesrrt of acnucelar reactor. ansd causeeworld war rthee.
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⚔️ warqueenextraordinaire Follow
Does anyone else on this website ship Scully and Mulder or is it just me
💣 commiedyke Follow
i regret getting you into 90s scifi so much
#you have no idea
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🐧 coordinatorsupreme Follow
What is "Friends"?
💣 commiedyke Follow
posts that are funnier without context
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fukutomichi · 2 days ago
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I can understand some people being new around here and trying to get the hang of posting and rebloging. I get it.
But after a while, you start to get to know your reblog and like buttons and how to comment, how to handle your blog and even try some html coding to make it look neat and pretty. Tumblr has it's faults, but what I love about it is that it's very easy to grasp and start blogging.
Now, I've seen some people around the tags still being unsure of how to post stuff or reblog, so let me just say this.
Don't just copy/save gifs or art and then repost them on your own blog, and add under it "I dunno which person this gif this belongs too" or "Neat art". I've seen gifs from other gif makers and art from other artist getting reposted around here without even getting credited. I can recognize almost all the gif makers around here, especially when it comes to the #tropedit tag, by their unique colorings and ways to make beautiful gifsets. And when I see reposts getting more notes than their own original post...This is how this site looses it's gif makers and artists.
Right, so instead of going off and rant, I'm gonna turn this into a little tutorial.
Okay, so you see some cool gifs around here, and it's in a set. And you go "Aahh, I want this by its self for my mood board" or "This will fit my fanfic soooo nicely". Instead of going copy/save and then repost the same gif on your blog, here a cool little feature:
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You click on that little blue button called GIF and a drop down menu pops up, featuring gajillion gifs that are all on this site.
"But, how do I find the gif that I want?" Have you noticed that every gifset or art that gets posted here, all have unique tags that are relevant to that artist or gifmaker? For example, here's one of my unique tags:
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Now, you just need to scroll down and find the one that you've been looking for. OR from that gif, notice some other tags and you search for something else that you like.
Once you find it, you just click it and it does this:
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Voilà! Now, you can start writing, you can start adding other gifs! But, you do notice what's under the gif, right? It's you giving credit! No need for @, no need for asking around which gif this belong to. It's just does it's thing automatically, I get a notification that someone liked it a lot and used it in their post.
That's it! Nothing complicated.
Now, when it comes to art...Just reblog from the artist, please. Share the art around by rebloging directly from them, not doing the old copy/save/repost or @. Just reblog it from them. It's that simple!
Hopefully, this was helpful for any new people coming here and being too shy to ask about these things! Have fun posting!
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vro0m · 3 days ago
Note
I was going to ask what's the discourse about, but I never go on the main tag, so... I wouldn't inflict that on you.
And yeah, that thing you said about each driver's fanbase is true. I realise that there are two sides. On one hand, you have those who like the driver, support him, and that's all. You won't see them in the trenches of fandoms war because they do not care.
Then, on the other hand, you have those who are "hardcore" fans. They know everything about the driver. To the family members to the strological chart. They know everything. Everything good must happen to their fave driver while the others can just lick hot lava. If the driver encounters any form of hardship, it's "They are treating him unfairly" or "That person should have done this or that, so that we could have [insert desired outcome for the driver]."
I do not even know if there is a middle ground.
Well regarding both the discourse and your ask, I've seen a few posts go by about black and white thinking and that's what prompted me to go to the tag in the first place.
I think it was @formulahs who said yesterday that people have the wrong expectations for what a career in f1 is supposed to look like because we've gone from one unheard of period of dominance with the Lewis/Merc combo to another with Max/RB and now some people seem to think that's what F1 is :
You either win all the time or you're a bad driver.
That's not actually true. These are two outliers back to back somehow, but normal F1 careers don't look like that. It's also due to modern F1 regs and how they tend to maintain one team that gets it right from the start at the top for a long time until others may or may not catch up. The fact is that these prolonged periods of dominance are precisely what F1 and the FIA have been actively fighting with things such as the cost cap, frequent new regs, and the wind tunnel allocation rules.
The fact that people have these unrealistic expectations for their favorite drivers I believe is in part what drives them to these extremes. They expect him to be perfect (on and off track btw but that's a different conversation) and he can't because that's not a thing. So they have to find reasons why, to make sense of it, to preserve the narrative that he is a Good Driver.
For me it all ties back once again into not seeing F1 as a sport but as a TV show and not seeing drivers as athletes or even just people but as characters.
A driver is not a Hero, a Main Character, a Protagonist. A driver is a guy trying to do his job.
There's no foreshadowing or hints of a conspiracy or a plot twist coming because there's no plot, there's just life. There's also no redemption arc or punitive saga because there's no arc or saga, there's just life.
Anyway I don't think it rests on whether the person knows a lot about the driver or not. I know a lot about Lewis by now but if anything it humanized him more in my eyes.
I'm gonna go full psychologist on everyone as usual because what else can I do : seeing your favorite driver as an object is not about him, it's about yourself, and your own ability to 1) step back 2) manage your emotions 3) accept reality including in its difficult aspects of frustration and uncertainty
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thatrandomidiot182 · 16 hours ago
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Bird in a Cage
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TW. cursing, minor violence, some gore, toxic relationships, reader matches their freak
Pairings. Targtower Duo x Reader (Mainly Aemond). (Possibly implied) Helaena x Reader.
A/N. Happy Halloween, everyone!! Ghostface Targtower won the poll by a landslide! Unfortunately, I got so caught up in writing this that I neglected the runner-up, which happened to be my favorite, so that will also be out soon, hopefully... definitely before Thanksgiving!! 😅
Anways, hope you enjoy reading! If I missed any TW pls let me know, I'm still new to tagging them...
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Shitshitshitshit- "FUCK!"
The loud thud followed by a string of obscenities was almost enough to get you to falter in your gait.
Almost.
The all-consuming fear and anxiety flooding through your veins was enough to keep you running without sparing a second glance back.
Your breath left you in short, hurried pants. Eyes darting back and forth between the ground and hall in front of you in a frantic attempt to keep your footing and avoid any unnecessary obstacles.
Obstacles like the vase next to the bathroom that you've stubbed your toe on one too many times, or the small table placed at the beginning of the stairway downstairs...
Or the sudden cloaked figure that popped his head over the bannister.
"Where do you think you're going pretty bird?"
The short scream that left you was more out of shock than fear, as his leather clad hand shot out to grab yours just as it had reached out to grab the railing.
"Ooh, I quite liked that..."
Your head snapped back towards the lurking figure behind you. The long black robe was a bit snug on his figure, draping down to rest on the top of his stained sneakers. His gloved hands were draped across his chest, stretching the fabric of the robe to the point you could see a glimpse of the color shirt he was wearing beneath.
It appeared to be emerald green, in a shade similar to Aegons favorite-
Oh God Aegon!
The sudden reminder of your best friend, who you had left on your bed during your journey to the kitchen, was enough to make you nauseous.
If the first killer emerged from your room when you had first come up the stairs, then...
It meant that Aegon was dead.
Without a doubt.
He stood no chance if the killer had caught him off guard...
God, you just hoped it was quick.
If anything, it was more likely than not that his throat had been slit...
Just like little Lucerys Velaryon...
Luke had been the first victim connected to these killers and the leaked crime scene photos were quick to circulate your school once it was confirmed.
It was disgustingly inappropriate, and you had nearly vomited all over Aegons lap when he had shown them to you.
You remember the sick grin on his face as he had goaded you into looking. The wicked gleam of satisfaction in his eyes as he had mocked your reluctance.
"C'mon, everyone else has already seen them! You don't wanna be known as the only wimp who didn't look, right?"
His words rang out as clear as day as you recalled the contents of the picture, only this time, you were imagining Aegon himself as the victim.
You wonder what he'd ended up looking like.
Was his head twisted back, eyes forever frozen wide open in fear?
Maybe he never even got a chance to fear his fate, and was instead left slumped over the bed with his signature grin engraved on his face...
Or, maybe the killer had used the extra five minutes you spent preparing the popcorn to beat the poor boy unconscious before-
Your morbid thoughts quickly came to a halt as you heard the footsteps pickup again.
"Well, this was easier than I thought it'd be, I'm honestly a bit disappointed in you, birdie... We put so much effort just to get you all to ourselves, and you don't even put up a fight? That's not very considerate of you..."
You furrowed your brows, in annoyance. Without saying anything in response, you quickly yanked your hand away from the one on the stairs, barreling straight towards the one who had emerged from your room. Thankfully catching him off guard, you burst into the master bedroom, slamming the door shut behind you.
You allowed yourself a small grin of satisfaction at the thud that followed.
"You are such a moron!"
Thankfully, their bickering allowed you enough time to manouver the window open.
Sitting on the windowsill and sparing a quick look behind you let you see that they had already gotten over their squabble and were making their way into the room with you. Unfortunately, it seems like the taller one had caught onto your plan, as he pushed his partner towards you before disappearing into the hallway.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Your jaw clenched as you rushed to squeeze yourself through the opening, barely escaping his gloved hand that had reached out to stop you.
"Fuck you."
With those final words, you pushed yourself out onto the roof of your backyard patio, taking an extra second to pettily slam the window back down onto your pursuers hands.
"SON OF A-"
Ignoring his expletives, you made quick work of carefully crawling your way down the slope of the roofing. As you finally reached your destination, you hesitated.
The last time you did this, you were about ten inches shorter and had someone waiting to catch you.
Now, you were fifty times more scared, still in your pajamas, with no shoes, and two serial killers chasing you down...
But, beggars can't be choosers.
So, with a quick, quiet "Fuck me" you jumped.
The water was always freezing when the sun went down.
When you were little, you used to cry when your parents wouldn't let you go night swimming. You always used to talk back and argue that you weren't a wimp who'd get sick from being a little cold...
Now you're thankful they never did give in to your pleads, as even now, as you pulled your fully grown self out of the depths of the pool, you could sense the sickness developing.
You didn't have time to dwell on your feelings however, as just as you had regained your footing, the grating sound of your back door sliding open rang out.
You didn't even glance back at the figure you knew was there before you booked it towards your side gate, quickly flicking the pathetic excuse for a lock open.
This one was quieter than his counterpart. Taller, too, but not as broad, as was obvious by the flowiness of the cloak he donned.
You hated it.
You hated how easy it was for him to get behind you, as you slammed the gate shut in his face.
You hated that you didn't hear him complain about it like the other one.
Not taking another second to dwell in your thoughts, you made your way off of the property and into the street.
Your feet screamed in protest as the sharp pebbles and rough asphalt dug into your soles, but you kept running.
Your body shivered as the wind blew through your clothes during your sprint, but soon enough, your eyes welled up with tears of relief as they fell upon a welcome sight.
You had made it out.
You escaped.
You survived.
The relief was so overwhelming that you didn't even question the presence of Aemonds car parked at the corner of your street.
You simply ran up to the side of the door, knocking frantically on the passenger window, where you were met with the familiar wide-eyed gaze of Helaena.
Sweet, innocent, dear Helaena, who you had never been more happy to see.
"Helaena! Oh my god- thank god- We need- You know, the killers- The- The murderers they- They, OH! Aegon-Aegon is-"
Your rambling was cut short as Helaena opened the car door, pushing you back slightly as she rushed out to meet you.
"W-What are you doing out here? You're not supposed to..." She trailed off, hands clasped down on your shoulders as she whipped her head around in search of something unknown to you.
"Oh, god if anyone sees us-"
Your brows furrowed as she delved into a quiet ramble, her blunt nails digging into your arms painfully as you process her words.
"Helaena, what the fuck are you talking about? Right now isn't the time for your whole weird chick act, okay! Get your ass in the car we need to go!"
You don't know if she was purposefully ignoring you or not, but her silence was enough to fuel the rage that had been simmering inside you all night.
You didn't mean to lash out on her, but she was an easy target, and if you didn't focus on your anger, you'd completely shut down.
"HELAENA! Are you listening to me!?! We need to get the FUCK out of here, so get in the car!"
She once again ignored you, staring blankly over your shoulder as she limply released her hold on you.
You huffed, "Helaena, get in the car."
When she didn't respond, you resorted to copying her earlier actions, gripping her shoulders, and shaking her back and forth in an attempt to wake her from her sudden stupor.
Now giving up on being quiet and just shouting in her face, "HELAENA GET IN THE GODDAMN CAR-"
You froze as a hand clamped down on your shoulder, "Sorry, little bird, but she won't be doing that."
Gulping, you slowly turned your head towards the man that stood behind you, coming face to face with that stupid goddamn mask.
"Boo."
You screamed, or at least you tried to, but the gloved hand that wasn't on your shoulder quickly snapped up to cover your mouth before you could. The killer, who you recognized as the one who chased you by the pool, wasted no time and immediately spun you around to face him, slamming your back into the car.
"God, you're adorable, you know that..." His grip on you tightened as his hand trailed from your shoulder to your waist. "But, you're also infuriating."
You whimpered as his grip continued to tighten, squirming in his hold as he pressed his body to yours, pinning you against the cool metal of the car behind you.
"I just don't know what to do with you..." He sighed, pelvis up against your own as he shoved a knee between your legs, keeping you trapped and off balance. His hand moved from your waist to your head as he gently ran his fingers along your hair.
"That's it, keep looking at me like that-"
"You got her! Good, I don't know how I was gonna pull off a resurrection..."
Your eyes widened at the voice that had interrupted whatever creepy ass monologue was about to happen. You watched, frozen stiff as the source approached your little group, focus quickly snapping from Helaenas guilty form to the new arrival...
Aegon.
His smirk broke into a laugh as his gaze met your own, body hunching over as he cackled to himself, "Oh man, you should see the look on your face! Not so tough now, are ya?"
As much as you would have liked to deny the truth, even your survival fried brain was coherent enough to piece together the facts in front of you.
It really was impossible to deny...
Even though he had ditched the cloak, his shirt was the exact same shade as the man who chased you in the house, and clenched in his bloodied and bruised fingers was that stupid mask...
Your eyes welled up with tears as you processed, muffled sobs ringing out into the night as he laughed in your face.
"Come now, you're already crying? The best reveal hasn't even happened yet..."
You tearfully glared at Aegon as he walked over to slump his form onto Helaenas.
"Yes, as you should've guessed by now, I'm not the only one involved in this little game, no. Our dear, sweet, innocent little Helaena is in on it as well! Not so innocent now, is she-" he snickered to himself as Helaena avoided your gaze, "But! The final reveal has yet to be made!" He snapped up straight, hands flaunting about as he dramatically made his way towards your figure.
"Yes, our friend here has yet to introduce himself, how rude!" He laughed, hand slowly reaching toward the mask of the man holding you.
"Make your guesses now, folks, it's not a hard guess, really. It's actually quite obvious if you ask me!" He paused, left hand raising to cup his ear as he swiveled his head around, eyes meeting yours as the implication struck...
No. fucking. way.
He smirked as your eyes widened, hand snatching the mask back to reveal flowing silver locks and a face you knew all too well.
"Why, if it isn't the one, the only, Aemond Targaryen! Who didn't see that coming?" Aegons laughter rang through your head as your sobs increased.
You desperately shook your head, fighting the hand against your mouth as you screamed your denial.
There's no way this was happening.
There's no way your best friend just revealed himself and his siblings to you as serial killers.
There's no way that was your boyfriend.
"Are you done now, or should I get you a hat and a horn too?" Aemond spat, glaring at Aegon as his elder brother lifted his hands in surrender.
"Hey now, I'm just trying to lighten the mood a little! You don't really think she'd be down for the next part the way she currently is, do you?"
You ignored their bickering, instead focusing on berating yourself for being so stubborn.
Everyone told you he was bad news, even his own family!
Your parents had talked to you about him before. Saying your relationship was unhealthy, that he was too toxic for you, and staying with him was only gonna end up with you getting hurt.
You ignored them, of course. Too blinded by the rose tinted glasses he had strapped on your head to see all the red flags.
He had complete control over you, molding your personality and hobbies to be solely centered around him and his desires.
He didn't like your friends? Oh well, they weren't that cool anyway, besides, you still had Helaena and Aegon!
He worried about you running around late at night? You never liked going out much, no biggie! Aegon was always down for a movie night at your house!
He hated when you wore that dress you loved so much? It's okay, you were planning on getting rid of it, too. Helaena had mentioned that it was looking a bit tight...
The hold he had on you was alarming. Everyone knew it, you knew it. You just ignored it, perfectly content to live your life peacefully under Aemonds thumb if it meant he'd always and forever look at you like that.
No one had ever looked at you like that before Aemond.
With blown out pupils and rosy cheeks.
Eyebrows always curved in the softest, most reverent look you'd ever seen.
Aemond had always looked at you like you were a work of art. You just never realized what that truly meant.
You never realized how deep his devotion ran, how obsessed he was with you... how obsessed they both were, really.
Until now.
Where you sat shaking, nauseous, and terrified in between the two serial killers who just so happened to be your closest friends.
Your closest friends who were also vicious, merciless, cruel monsters that murdered your other friends just to get you to themselves... and who... who...
Who, you couldn't help but feel flattered by.
You know you shouldn't but, come on...
What girl wouldn't, when the two people they love most turn out to be equally as obsessed with them.
You're just glad you were smarter about it than they were...
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chillinglyadventurous · 24 hours ago
Text
Say Don’t Go
Strike a match, then you blow it out.
My first installation of the A Playlist of Fics collab with @ford-pines-lover! I hope you enjoy.
Word count: 2,256
Tags: SFW, unrequited love, hurt
Stanford Pines x Reader
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Why’d you have to make me want you?
“[Y/N]!” Ford called as he stormed into the lab. His face was flushed and that smile on his face was contagious. His chest heaved as he came to rest in front of you. “Look what I did!”
You gasped as he held out a bundle of red flowers with too many thorns. They were some cross between a rose and a carnation, absolutely stunning. Your breath caught in your throat as you leaned down to smell the flowers in his hand. The scent was intoxicating, causing your pupils to dilate.
You met your best friend’s eyes and yours were full of admiration. “What are these?”
You were awestruck. He looked so proud of himself, so beautiful with the flush across his nose. You had always felt this way about him. This feeling in the pit of your stomach only grew every time he did something like this. He was a man of grand gestures. He was always doing something to put a smile on your face.
“I grew them myself,” he beamed. His eyes were alight with something between pride and the same adoration reflecting in yours. “You see, I remembered how much you love roses and carnations. So, in an attempt to master botany, I crossbred them.” He squeezed your shoulder when he noticed the happy tears pricking your eyes. “Please tell me you like them.”
Your fingers brushed over the petals, mindful of the thorns. Each blossom was more beautiful than the last, but all you could see was him. This wasn’t the same stoic Stanford you had followed to Gravity Falls. At that moment, he was full of life and excitement. He wasn’t obsessing over the portal he and Fiddleford were building. He was just wanting to do something nice for you.
Your voice got caught up in your throat as he stared at you expectantly, “They’re stunning, Ford. Really, they are.” His smile was reward enough, butterflies congregating in your abdomen. “Did you do this just for me?”
“I know it may seem a bit silly,” he muttered as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, a hint of embarrassment in his tone, “but I wanted to do something special for you.”
His gaze on you softened and was replaced by something akin to love, but you weren’t quite sure. All you knew was the way he looked at you made your heart ache in the best way, so you held the flowers a bit closer to your chest. Those feelings you had pushed down in college came bubbling up. Oh, you wanted him, wanted to grow old with him.
Why’d you have to give me nothing back?
It wasn’t long before something else caught his attention, par for the course. Once again, he was absorbed, lost in the inter dimensional portal in the basement. You watched him from the doorway with three mugs of coffee on the tray in your hand. You watched intently as he tinkered with components, muttering to himself under his breath.
He hadn’t spoken to you in days, completely wrapped up in that portal again. He had been so focused, concentration etched into his face every time you saw him, even as he fell asleep in the lab. This captivating had been what drew you in at the beginning. You adored how passionate he was about his work. This time, however, you felt like an outsider to his world and he wouldn’t invite you in.
“Hey, guys,” you forced a smile on your face, your voice a forced chipper, “how about a coffee break?”
Fiddleford was the only one who acknowledged your presence, flipping up his welding mask with a wide grin, but your eyes were still on Ford who pushed the vase of wilting flowers he gave you out of his way to grab another tool.
You stared at the dying flowers and were reminded of the warmth fading from your heart. With each nudge to get them out of his way, Ford glared at the flowers in frustration, wondering why they were even there, taking up valuable space.
Fiddleford caught your attention with a quiet cough as he gestured toward the stairs and began to ascend. You followed, looking over your shoulder to see if Ford would even notice you leave. Your tray was abandoned.
Once up the stairs and out of ear shot, Fiddleford spoke, “[Y/N], I think it’s time we talk about Ford.” His voice was hesitant as he spoke. It was like he was trying to find the words he needed to get out. He looked concerned. “Have you noticed him actin’ different lately? I mean, gettin’ more caught up in his work than usual?”
“I mean,” you sighed, “he has been more distant lately.”
Fiddleford shook his head, expression coated in worry. “He’s been goin’ into these strange trances. Sometimes, he’s just standin’ there, talking to himself. I can’t make sense of any of it.” He placed a hand on your shoulder to keep you eyes from wandering. “It’s almost as if he’s on autopilot, but it ain’t him in control, ya know?”
A chill crept down your spine. You wanted to believe it was just Ford’s intense concentration. He could often tune out the world no matter what was going on, but the look in Fiddleford’s eyes was genuine. “Well, he doesn’t sleep well. Maybe he’s just sleep deprived.”
“It gets stranger,” he continued. “I think he’s working with someone, or something. He keeps talkin’ to himself. Every time I ask what’s going on, he just brushes it off, sayin’ ‘Nothing to worry about,’ but there’s something in his eyes. It’s like they change color. Then, he starts actin’ all weird.”
You nodded because you weren’t sure what else to do. You weren’t sure how to respond. “Do you think he’s in danger? What do we do?”
“I think you should talk to him, [Y/N]. He won’t listen to me.” Fiddleford squeezed your shoulder, seeing the horror in your eyes, “Just don’t expect him to be okay with whatever you tell him.”
So, you made your way back to the lab, catching Ford’s attention by placing your hand over his. His brow was furrowed when he looked up at you, obviously irritated that you had the haul to interrupt him. “Can we talk?”
“No,” he said flatly, shoving your hand away so he could get better leverage on his wrench. You stayed put and blocked his light. “I don’t have time for this right now! Just get out of my way. If you’re not going to help, leave me alone.”
You crossed your arms over your chest. What was wrong with him? Why was he being so hot and cold all of a sudden? “Hey, I am trying to help you.”
“No you’re not!” He shouted back, a blatant over reaction to your soft words. “You’re always in the way. Just go!”
Why’d you have to make me love you?
“I wanted to apologize,” Ford sighed, standing outside your house.
Leaning in the doorway, you stared at him. He had that smile on his face that made you go weak in the knees, bundled up in a sweater and trench coat in the snow. His cheeks were dusted pink from the wind and cold. He watched you expectantly with his hands deep in his pockets, hoping you’d let him in.
You stood to the side and let him slip in. When you shut the door, he began to blow on his hands to try and warm them up. “Do you want coffee or hot chocolate? It’s freezing out there. You’ll get sick.”
“If you’re having some.” He removed his coat and hung it on the rack by the door. He gave a sigh of relief as the warmth of your home welcomed him in. You disappeared into the kitchen, returning with two mugs of hot chocolate. He took one from you graciously. “I really am sorry,” he whispered, “I overreacted. I’ve just been-“
Ford paused, cutting himself off as if he already said too much. When you sat down beside him, he drew you in close. Your nose was pressed to his neck. He’d abandoned his hot chocolate to hold you instead. There was the hot and cold again.
“I’m really sorry, [Y/N],” he said into your hair. “I don’t want to lose you.” You pulled back to look into his eyes. They seemed red and puffy as he held back so many emotions. “I just feel so alone.”
You let out a sad breath and wondered why he was saying this. He’d never been alone. You had always been by his side. Fiddleford had always been by his side. He’d never be alone. Sure, Fiddleford had left for the holidays, he needed to spend Christmas with his son, but you were still there. Ford was not alone.
You traced over his cheeks with your fingertips to admire him. He was so gentle, so amazing when the two of you were alone. Even when Fiddleford was around, he was sweet, but you enjoyed moments like this the most.
Then, he kissed you. It was a quick peck and something anyone could have missed if they weren’t paying attention. You blinked a few times to register what had just happened. Before you could process, his lips were on yours again, slow and determined. Your arms tangled around his neck and his fell to your waist.
That had been your first kiss, well, your first sober kiss, and, when you pulled away, he smiled. “I care about you.”
He stayed for a while afterwards. The two of you laughed and enjoyed the other’s company until night fell and the grandfather clock in your living room struck 2:00. You’d half fallen asleep in his arms and he had done the same. The chimes caused you to stir.
“I should go,” Ford sighed. His voice was groggy and deeper than normal. A kiss was placed on your forehead as he stood.
You followed him to the door. “Don’t go,” you said. You wrapped your arms around him once more, pulling him into another kiss. “You can stay.”
His smile was sleepy, but if he stayed any longer, he’d be snowed in. He kissed you once, twice, three times. “Stay warm, darling.”
I said “I love you.” You say nothing back.
You gathered your bearings, hyping yourself up in your mind as you stared at the man in front of you. You’d practiced this moment in the mirror a hundred times. You’d gone over every possible outcome. This feeling, this love, that had only grown stronger since college, especially now, was weighing you down. You needed to get it out.
It was the perfect time. Fiddleford had gone home for the holidays. He missed his wife and kid. It was just you and Ford in that cabin, blanketed by snow and winter chill. It was now or never. Despite all your practicing, your calculations of how this would play out, the reality of speaking the truth was much more terrifying.
“Ford,” your voice trembled as he looked up at you from his notes, “I love you.”
Time froze. Ford’s expression was unreadable, eyebrows knitted together in either confusion or shock. He looked startled for a brief second before his face turned neutral once more. You felt so naked under his stare, so vulnerable, while the cogs in his mind turned furiously. You weren’t sure if he had even heard you.
“I love you,” you repeated.
Still, the silence wore on and on and on. Your words hung in the air like a noxious gas, but you waited. Every second felt like an eternity. With each moment, chunks of the hope you had built up inside of you were being ripped away. As Ford continued to stare blankly in your direction. His eyes were wide, but you were expectant. His lips twitched. His mind swirled as the raw emotion you had just displayed caught up to you. You waited.
You took in a shaking breath as your hands came up to cover your mouth. “Stanford-“ You stopped yourself when you realized he wasn’t going to say anything. You blinked back the tears that were welling in your eyes. “I love you,” you whispered again.
Still, he stayed silent. You wiped a tear from your cheek as it slipped beyond your eyelashes. Mascara dripped down your cheeks with it. So, you swallowed your pride. You turned to leave and hoped, begged some higher power, that he’d say something, anything at all.
Even as you left him there and shut the door behind you, he didn’t call out. He didn’t run to you. Suddenly, you remembered where his priorities were and they weren’t with you. You should have known. Fiddleford had told you. He had warned you, but you were too lovestruck to listen.
In your car, outside of his cabin, you let the tears flow. He had finally done it. He pushed you away like he’d pushed away everyone else in his life. As you drove, your vision blurred with tears, you wondered what he’d write about you in his journal. You wondered if he’d say you betrayed him like Fiddleford did. Or, would he mourn you, the loss of his very last friend, the last person who cared about him? You resolved yourself to the fact that you’d never know because you never really knew him to begin with.
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joanquill · 3 days ago
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Tea Time
Seeing William enjoying tea despite the sun being out, you decided to visit your reclusive vampire companion.
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William James Moriarty
A/N: Since I couldn't write Halloween requests last year, I thought writing some shorts could be compensation ^^" The monster versions of the guys will just be based on the Halloween merch(?) I found :)
Tag/s: Vampire!William, Modern!Reader
Warning/s: Profanity
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"For a vampire, you sure look anemic," you greeted William as you walked into the garden, watching him enjoy tea while wearing a sun hat, sunglasses, and long sleeves.
"Good afternoon to you as well, (Y/N)," William calmly greeted as he sipped his tea.
"Isn't it dangerous for you to be outside even if the sun's setting?" you asked, using your shadow to shield him from the sunlight.
"It's fine. I put on some sunscreen earlier, and a little sunlight every once in a while is not so bad," William reassured, making you hum as you sat across from him.
"Well, you look very pretty," you grinned, earning an unamused look from William as he kept his smile.
"What brings you here today?" he asked as he poured you a cup.
You shrugged your shoulders, tapping the cup lightly as you stared inside.
"Just wanted to visit..." you answered, taking a sip as William observed you.
"Nothing else?"
"Nope," you confirmed, focusing on drinking the tea.
"...He cheated on you, didn't he?" he asked, making you freeze as you set down the cup.
"Five times! Can you believe that asshole!?" you scoffed in anger as William poured you another cup, lending an ear.
"Ugh, I swear every decent guy is either dead, gay, or taken..." you muttered in despair with your face flat on the table as William listened to your woes.
"Sounds difficult," William mused, drinking from his cup as you looked up at him.
"Can't you introduce me to someone? Maybe a descendant of a friend of yours?" you joked, making William breathe out a smile.
"Unfortunately, no," he answered, making you sigh in disappointment.
"May I ask why you are in such a hurry to meet someone?" he asked, making you raise a brow.
"Don't people get married and have kids really young in your time?"
"Perhaps I can give you a history lesson during your next visit,"
"Never mind!" you quickly turned away, remembering the math lecture he gave you last time.
You let out a deep sigh as you nursed your teacup, "I swear I'm going to die alone..." you grumbled, sliding down to the table.
"Hm... I'll be sure to visit," William monotonously added, making you scoff as you threw the table napkin at him.
"You are no help at all!" you chuckled, making William smile as he effortlessly caught the napkin with a smile.
"Now, will you answer my question?" he asked, making you stop and bite your lip.
You dragged out a sigh as you sank into your arms.
"I don't know... Everyone around me has been getting married and having kids, and it... it just feels like I'm falling behind," you answered, making William look at you solemnly.
"(Y/N)-"
"And I know everyone goes at their own pace... but I just want to be with someone, you know? Don't you?" you asked, catching William by surprise.
"What? Don't you have a special someone?" you half-jokingly asked, making him awkwardly smile.
"I did... but that's all in the past now," he confirmed, surprising you.
"...Sorry," you sheepishly apologized, making William chuckle.
"Don't worry, it's been years... And they died of old age," he reassured, perking your ears.
"What were they like?" as you asked William, the alarm on your phone went off.
"Ah, shit... Sorry, let's continue this tomorrow," you hastily said as you fixed yourself.
"You're welcome to visit anytime you wish," William reassured, waving goodbye as you rushed out of the garden.
"But hey!" you shouted, catching William's attention, "Maybe they got reincarnated? Maybe we can try to find them tomorrow!" you suggested, waving goodbye as you rushed out of the manor, not wanting to deal with the late-night traffic.
William breathed out a smile as he watched your retreating figure, a solemn smile on his face as he kept his eyes on you.
"Seriously... They haven't changed at all,"
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heretherebedork · 24 hours ago
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I see you in the tag and you keep saying that unlike Joke, Jack's life matters to him and therefore he doesn't sacrifice himself. But Jack is the guy who took a knife to the guts to protect Joke though. Like, Joke was about to get stabbed, and Jack just threw himself in front of the impact. For Joke. And then, he told him to run away. How is that different from what you say about Joke? How is that not Jack giving up his life for the sake of someone else? I don't understand
It's the intention.
Jack does not intend to die. Jack knows that his life matters to the people around him. Jack has worked very hard to not die and to keep living and to keep taking care of his grandmother. Yes, he will sacrifice himself and yes he will put himself in immediate danger to protect Joke (or his grandmother) but he would not do that for anyone else.
I mean, we saw that he told Auntie Jeab to give them the money and they'd figure something out later. Jack believes in living. He got stabbed protecting Joke but that is an inherently different kind of sacrifice in the middle of a battle than Joke standing directly in front of a gun for someone who isn't Jack or his grandmother or Joke knowingly putting himself in life-threatening danger (from the preview for the next episodes).
Joke has a complete disregard for the value of his own life because he sees no inherent value in his own life. He doesn't see people who would care if he was gone. His father, who supposedly missed him so badly he bought his favorite ramen and stocked up, insulted him and basically told him that he could never, ever change. Jack's first act of self-sacrifice was to pull away from Joke and then push him away even harder.
Jack's sacrifice in the middle of a battle is different than Joke' premeditated habit of carving off bits of himself and hiding the pain from everyone around him because he doesn't think any of it could possibly matter.
Jack protecting Joke in a fight that was going to get one of them stabbed is different than Joke willingly accepting a chance of his own death for the sake of Jack's freedom because his life doesn't matter to him.
They are both self-sacrificing and will put themselves in danger for the other, yes. But Jack knows he has something to come home to and wants to live, wants to keep going, wants to keep his grandmother safe and that is the end goal of all his sacrifice. That's why the truth game worked on him! Because he knows he is loved and he wants to come home to them at the end of the night.
But the truth game wouldn't work on Joke. He doesn't have the same sense of being loved or needed like that. He would deflect any truth onto a different one, about Jack or his grandma. He would tell the whole truth without giving away any of what he had sacrificed because his own sacrifices don't matter to him. It's not like he was the one who told Jack he talked to his abusive father, that was grandma and Joke just shrugged it off!
It's the same issue but in different fonts and one of those fonts is the will and the want to live.
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