#and like genuinely I cannot fucking stand the fact that if I sit and try to do anything someone HAS to be in the same space as me

[yani-senpai]

.

[queenshelby]

An Illicit Affair

Part Seven: The Hotel Encounter

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

Wednesday came around quicker than you thought, eight o'clock rolled around, and you found yourself standing outside the Westin Hotel lobby like a lost puppy. The hotel's grandeur and sophistication overwhelmed you, and you couldn't help but compare its opulence to the dimly lit jazz club where you first laid eyes on Cillian.

You squared your shoulders, trying to summon some confidence. Taking a deep breath, you crossed the threshold into the marble-floored lobby. The scent of expensive perfume and designer cologne hung heavily in the air, and you could hear soft classical music playing somewhere in the background.

The sound of hushed conversations and the occasional click of heels on marble floors filled the space. You scanned the crowd, searching for Cillian. When you caught sight of him, your heart skipped a beat.

"Hey," Cillian greeted, his voice low and smooth, sending shivers down your spine. "You made it," he added, gesturing towards a secluded table tucked away in the corner. "Shall we sit?" he asked, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours. You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from him.

The familiar warmth spread through your chest, and your palms grew slick with perspiration. Leading you to the table, Cillian pulled out a chair for you. Once seated, you could feel his gaze boring into you, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. Your heart thumped erratically, and your mind raced with a jumble of memories and desires. .

"So," you said, shifting in your seat after sitting down at the quiet table in the corner, "How is Max doing? He is back at home now, isn't he?"

Cillian's eyes held a faraway look, his lips quirking upward ever so slightly. "He is and he is doing well, considering the circumstances," he said, taking a sip of his drink. "He has lost his license, and his car insurance won't cover the damages to the car, but he's alive, thank God."

"I know. I am glad," you spoke nervously before you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the inevitable question.

"So, what did you want to discuss with me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady and, immediately, guilt began to form in Cillian's mind. 

"To tell you the truth, I don't really know. After seeing you again at the hospital, I..." Cillian began to trail off, stammering nervously. "I just wanted to see you," Cillian confessed, his voice barely audible. "So that I could apologize and explain myself, to tell you that what happened between us was...," he added before trailing off again. 

He looked down for a moment and then continued, his voice wavering slightly. "I really fucked up Y/N, but I cannot stop thinking about you," he told you before he wiped his brow with his sleeve, looking genuinely concerned. "I know that what happened between us was a mistake. It was fucking wrong because I cheated on my wife with you, but I just can't seem to shake you off my mind," Cillian admitted, his gaze locked on you, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

"Cillian, I--" you started, your voice catching in your throat. "We both know it was wrong," you managed to say, your heart pounding hard enough to rattle your ribcage. "And I don't know what to say other than that I am sorry for putting you into this situation. I should not have pursued you," you added, wringing your hands nervously, thinking about the fact that he was married and that you used to date his son. This was all so complicated, so messed up, and whilst you craved him, you knew that this wouldn't lead to anything prosperous. 

"Y/N, you didn't put me into this situation," Cillian countered, taking a deep breath. "I did this myself and, if I remember correctly, I was the one who pursued you, not the other way around," he confessed before he darted his eyes downwards for a brief moment, looking ashamed. "I should not have done it," he mumbled, shaking his head, "but I cannot help but wonder what it would be like if we got to spend some more time together," he then gazed at you intently, his expression serious and determined.

"Cillian," you whispered, shaking your head. "This is insane," you told him before you tried to stand up from your seat only to be halted by Cillian laying his arm across the back of your chair.

"Please, just listen to me," he implored you, his voice hoarse and strained from desperation. "I realize that we shouldn't be having this conversation, but I simply cannot help it. Every time I think about you, I want more. It's like a fucking addiction," Cillian confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"We can't do this," you reminded him, averting your gaze, afraid of the depths of desire reflected in his eyes. "You're married," you pointed out bluntly, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "And I dated your son," you added, the guilt gnawing at your gut.

"I know," Cillian groaned, his frustration evident in each tortured syllable. "But tell me that you don't want this too," he urged, causing you to pause, your heart racing madly in your chest.

Torn between reason and desire, you studied Cillian's handsome face, tracing the lines of his chiseled features with your gaze. His eyes were pleading, beseeching you to give in to the forbidden attraction that simmered between you just as the waiter came by, finally wanting to take your order.

"What can I get you?" the young man asked, flashing a dazzling smile at you both. You and Cillian exchanged awkward glances before you quickly looked away, focusing on the menu instead.

"A bottle of Bordeaux, but can we have it brought up to the room please?" you nervously said to the waiter before Cillian could respond to his question and your request left him baffled. 

"Of course. What is your room number, ma'am," the waiter asked politely, glancing between you and Cillian curiously.

 "It's 309," Cillian answered, his voice low and gruff as you stood up and reached for your bag with fidgeting hands. 

"What are you doing?" Cillian asked, his voice husky as he watched you stand up.

"Going to your room," you answered him matter-of-factly. You felt nervous, the excitement coursing through your veins like a drug.  "Isn't that what you wanted?" you whispered, turning to face Cillian. The air between you vibrated with pent-up energy, like a storm brewing under the calm surface of a lake. You could practically feel the electric charge between you, and it pushed you forward. 

Cillian nodded nervously, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat like a tiny pulse. "Yes," he whispered, and you couldn't help but blush. 

"Good, then lets go before my conscience kicks in and guilt gets the better of me," you mumbled before Cillian stood up as well and followed you toward the elevators.

Once the elevator doors closed, Cillian let out a sigh of relief, and you pressed the button for the third floor.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair away from your face.

His touch was warm and gentle, sending a delicious shiver down your spine. 

You searched his gaze, finding comfort in the vulnerability etched into his expressive eyes. "Yes," you replied, your voice soft and certain, before you allowed your fingertips to graze his cheek affectionately.

"I am sure about this," you assured him, your eyes never straying from his mesmerizing gaze before, eventually, the elevator doors slid open with a soft whir, and you stepped out onto the third floor with Cillian hot on your heels.

You adjusted your dress nervously, smoothing down the fabric and glancing around the hall, making sure no one was watching you two. The dim lighting masked your expressions as you moved towards the indicated room number, your heart beating like a war drum in your chest.

Cillian pulled his key card from his jeans pocket, swiping it along the slot and hearing the soft mechanical click signaling the door had unlocked. He turned the handle delicately, leading you both inside the darkened room.

"Let me turn on the lights," he suggested, fumbling around the wall switch before the soft glow flooded the room, bathing you both in a comforting warmth.

Your nerves skyrocketed as you saw the plush king-sized bed situated right in front of you, and your heart fluttered in anticipation.

Cillian guided you gently towards the center of the room, his grip tightening around your hand subtly as if urging you closer. Your skin prickled from the tension between you both, creating a magnetic pull that neither of you could ignore. You peered up at him, finding solace in his blue eyes which mirrored the uncertainty that danced within your own and, not long after that, your lips finally collided. 

The kiss was passionate yet gentle, a dance of tongues and teeth, your bodies pressing closer and closer, almost losing balance.

Despite the lingering guilt clouding your mind, the thrill of his presence ignited a fire within you—a flame that refused to be extinguished.

Cillian's hands roamed over your body, exploring curves and valleys, moving to unbutton your dress with trembling fingers. You could sense the urgency in his movements, the raw desire simmering just below the surface.

With trembling hands, Cillian untied the string holding your dress together, exposing your black lace bra and panties, leaving nothing to the imagination. Your breath hitched as you watched him gaze hungrily at your exposed flesh, his eyes dark with lust.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion before he pressed his lips against your neck, kissing and sucking gently, leaving red marks that stung pleasantly. You moaned softly, arching your back as his hands moved lower, cupping your ass and pulling you closer as, suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Room Service," a male voice called out from beyond the entrance, causing Cillian to freeze mid-kiss.

"Ignore it," you muttered, clutching Cillian tightly, unwilling to break the spell that had enveloped you both.

"I can't," Cillian replied, releasing you gently before walking towards the door with his face covered in your lipstick. "It was you who ordered the wine," he then chuckled before he opened the door just a crack, whispering something quietly to the room service attendant waiting on the other side. There was a brief exchange of words before the sound of heavy footsteps fading away echoed through the room.

"Thank you," Cillian murmured, closing the door firmly behind him and placing the bottle of Bordeaux you had ordered minutes earlier on the desk besides the door.

He turned to face you, a crooked grin playing on his lips when he saw that you had taken off your bra and were waiting for him on top of the bed.

"Looks like I am not the only one in a hurry," he joked before pulling his t-shirt over his head, revealing his lean torso. His chest was covered in freckles and featured a small patch of chest-hair, both of which was something you considered particularly attractive. 

He then went to unbuckle his belt, slowly sliding his pants down, revealing his CK briefs, already straining against his growing erection.

"I can't wait to feel you inside me again," you whispered as desire pooled inside of you like molten lava threatening to erupt, consuming every rational thought.

Cillian smiled seductively, stepping out of his clothing completely, leaving him naked and gloriously erect before you.

You swallowed dryly, your mouth feeling parched as you admired his sculpted physique. He was perfection embodied, and your heart pounded wildly in your chest as you ran your eyes all over his gorgeous form.

"You are so hard already," you purred, reaching out to touch the throbbing bulge nestled snugly between his legs.

Cillian groaned, his breathing labored as he grabbed your wrist, stopping you from proceeding.

"Not yet," he growled, his voice laced with raw lust.

"I want to taste you first," he added, stepping closer to the bed with a predatory glint in his eye. "Making you cum with my mouth is what I have been dreaming about every fucking night," he then told you and you bit your lip, feeling an unfamiliar wave of excitement wash over you.

"Really?" you mused, your voice dripping with feigned innocence. "Because I was thinking that maybe it would be more fun if I get to taste you again first," you teased, a mischievous spark dancing in your eyes.

"Oh, I'm definitely going to enjoy that," Cillian groaned, his cock twitching eagerly in response as he prowled towards the bed like a predator zeroing in on its prey. "But ladies first," he asserted before pinning you down beneath him. "I want to hear you come undone," he asserted and you did not dare to argue. 

"Alright, if you insist," you moaned as Cillian skillfully removed your panties with a single tug, leaving you bare and vulnerable.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your inner thigh softly causing a pleasant shiver to run down your spine. He traced kisses down your leg, slowly working his way towards your core.

"You smell so fucking good," he commented before he took a moment to appreciate your wetness visibly staining the sheets underneath you.

"You're soaked," he noted appreciatively, and your heart raced at the sheer pleasure he derived from your arousal.

Cillian kissed and caressed your inner thighs, his hot breath teasing your sensitive skin.

"Fuck," you whimpered, squirming beneath him as he lowered his head, his lips hovering inches above your quivering mound. You could feel his warm breath on your moist flesh, raising goosebumps on your skin.

Your breath quickened, a wave of anticipation washing over you like a tidal surge.

"Tell me how much you want it," he commanded, leaning forward, his eyes smoldering with passion.

"I want it so much!" you cried out, bucking your hips in anticipation. Cillian's eyes gleamed with triumph as he parted your folds gently, revealing your swollen clit, pulsating with need. He licked his lips, savoring the sweet aroma emanating from your sex.

"Please!" you then begged, your voice cracking with desperation. "Just touch me, taste me, make me cum!"

Cillian grinned wickedly, his eyes sparkling with anticipation before lowering his lips ever so slightly.

You moaned loudly, thrashing your head from side to side, desperate for release. Your pussy throbbed, yearning for attention, and you arched your back, offering up your slick slit to Cillian who, finally obliged. 

His tongue darted out, flicking your engorged nub lightly before diving in, delving deeper into your wet depths. You moaned loudly, grinding your hips into his face eagerly as he explored your folds with fervent abandon.

"Fuck yes," you screamed, your voice echoing off the walls of the luxurious bedroom. "That feels so good!" you moaned before running your hands through his hair. 

"So fucking good," you whispered, panting heavily as Cillian continued to lap at your slick folds with a feverish hunger. His tongue swirled around your clit, teasing you mercilessly before plunging back inside your dripping pussy. Your entire body convulsed with pleasure, and you bucked wildly beneath him, desperately seeking release.

"Oh god, I'm going to cum!" you screamed, your voice hoarse with ecstasy. Cillian's ears perked up at your cry, and he began to lick faster, harder, his tongue stabbing into your wet hole relentlessly.

You clawed at the sheets, screaming obscenities, begging for the pressure to continue.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, yes!" you hollered, as the waves of pleasure built inside you, threatening to break any second now.

Cillian latched onto your clit, sucking it hard between his lips, making you scream louder.

You grabbed fistfuls of the silken duvet, nails digging into the material as intense spasms rocked your core.

"Cillian, fuck!" you screamed, the words escaping in ragged gasps.

Cillian groaned, lapping up your juices greedily, reveling in your cries, his cock throbbing painfully against his briefs. He loved seeing you lose control, watching your body surrender to the overwhelming sensations sweeping through you as, finally, your orgasm hit you. 

You shook violently, clinging onto reality as everything around you faded, leaving only the sensation of euphoria, a blissful void that swept you higher and higher until you exploded.

Cillian released your clit, swallowing your juices with relish, enjoying the taste of your desire. He rose, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes burning with satisfaction.

"That was quick," he remarked, a smirk curling his lips. "I didn't expect you to cum so fast," he admitted and, seeing that you were much younger and inexperienced than him, this was a huge turn on for you both.

You exhaled sharply, still reeling from the explosive climax you had just experienced.

"Well, you clearly got some skills in that department, Mr Murphy," you teased, playfully running your fingers through his sweaty hair.

Cillian chuckled, his eyes shining with pride. "So I've been told," he mused, stroking your damp thigh tenderly before you pushed him beneath you as, slowly, but surely, you came down from your high. 

"I suppose it is my turn to pleasure you now sir," you declared, crawling towards him with a sultry smile on your face before reaching for the hem of his briefs. "And I want to suck you so good that you beg me for mercy," you whispered softly into his ear, your hot breath tickling his neck.

Cillian groaned, gripping the edge of the mattress as you slowly pulled down his underwear, revealing his impressive, fully erect length.

"Oh god Cills," you cooed, reaching out to stroke him gently. "You are so hard for me, and dripping already," you moaned with approval as Cillian's eyes widened with anticipation, his cock twitching eagerly in your grasp.

"Please," he whispered weakly, his voice cracking with desire. 

"Please what?" you asked coyly, stroking Cillian's cock gently with your thumb.

The head of his shaft was shiny with pre-cum, reflecting the light in the dimly lit room. "Tell me what you want, Cillian," you added, biting your lip suggestively.

Cillian swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat. "I want you to take me into your mouth," he uttered, his voice breaking. "Please," he then begged again and you smiled, nodding your head slowly.

"I'm going to enjoy this," you said, licking your lips hungrily before leaning down to lick the pre-cum of his slit.

The taste of him made your head spin, and you moaned softly, slurping his tip gently. "God, you taste so good," you whispered, squeezing his balls gently, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Cillian before you used your mouth to fully engulf him. 

Swallowing him whole, you sucked him hard, moaning around his cock as you worked your tongue around his head, swirling it in circles.

"Oh fuck," Cillian groaned, thrusting upwards into your mouth, desperate for more.

Your mouth bobbed up and down, the saliva lubricating your movements and making sloppy sounds that filled the quiet room.

"Y/N," Cillian whimpered, grabbing at your hair, his fingers tangling in your locks. "Slow down," he pleaded, his voice strained and broken.

He reached for your hair, attempting to guide your rhythm. Yet, you remained stubborn, continuing to suck him hard, knowing full well that he would soon lose control. 

You heard him moan, felt his cock pulsing, and smelled the scent of his arousal, all signs that he was close to the edge.

"Y/N," Cillian gasped, his voice hoarse and desperate. "I'm close," he groaned, and you didn't answer him - you didn't even look up, instead choosing to increase the suction and speed, eager to drain him completely.

The sound of his cock pumping in and out of your mouth became deafening, like a heartbeat filling the room. He was close now, his cock swelling in your mouth, and he started to thrust into you harder until, abruptly, he stopped.

"Stop," he breathed out, sounding surprised and relieved. "I can't take anymore of this," he gasped after ten minutes of your onslaught before you reluctantly released him, licking your lips, tasting the saltiness of his precum mixed with your saliva.

"The first time I cum tonight needs to be inside you. I am begging you," he panted, pulling you closer, your breasts mashed against his chest. You could hear his heart pounding furiously in his chest, matching yours.

"You are begging me, huh?" you teased, nibbling on his earlobe softly. "I love it when you beg," you whispered, licking his neck sensually. "Especially coming from you, this is such a turn on," you told him just before Cillian groaned deeply, his muscles stiffening beneath you.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," he grunted, his erection throbbing against your belly. "But yes, I'm begging you, Y/N. Please, let me cum inside you," he rasped, his voice husky with longing.

"Why do you want to cum inside me?" you asked Cillian, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Because it is so fucking intimate," Cillian sighed, his voice rough and raw with desire. "Feeling you contract around me, as I spill myself deep inside you," he admitted, his tone earnest and sincere.

"Also, it is somewhat taboo," he whispered, his breath fanning across your neck as he held you tight. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready to explode. "Which is exactly why I want it," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. 

"Me too," you agreed, your voice soft and sultry. "I want to feel you fill me up with your cum," you confessed, your words slipping past your lips like silk. "And then, when I go to my lectures tomorrow, I want to feel it leaking out of me little by little, reminding me of our encounter each time I walk," you teased, causing Cillian to groan loudly. 

"Don't say it like that or I won't last much longer," he chuckled, squeezing your hips tighter as you kissed him passionately while, at the same time, climbing atop of him and aligning his hardness with your wetness. 

"Okay, no talking then," you giggled, sitting on his lap and positioning yourself over his member. "Just moaning," you teased, taking a deep breath and lowering yourself on him inch by excruciating inch.

"Shit," Cillian gasped, throwing his head back and grabbing onto the pillows as you impaled yourself on his cock, feeling the head of his penis stretch you wide open before sliding inside, deeper and deeper.

"Oh god," you moaned, rocking your hips slowly as you sank down further, taking his entire length inside you.

"You feel so good," Cillian groaned, reaching up to massage your breasts gently, his thumbs circling your nipples. "So fucking tight," he added, his voice husky with lust as you started to ride him.

You both knew that you wouldn't last long; the atmosphere in the room was thick with anticipation, and your bodies ached for one another.

As you moved on top of him, your pelvis grinding against his, the friction was enough to send you both spiraling into oblivion.

"Harder," Cillian urged, reaching down to squeeze your ass cheeks, encouraging you to bounce on him.

You did as instructed, moving with reckless abandon, lost in the heat of the moment.

Each thrust sent shockwaves coursing through your body, intensifying the feelings building inside you. Cillian's hands gripped your hips tightly, urging you on, helping you reach new heights of pleasure.

"Fuck, you are so tight around my cock," he groaned, his voice hoarse with lust as you rode him and those words struck a chord deep within you, setting your blood ablaze. You moaned loudly, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you moved on top of him with renewed vigor.

Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, and you bit your lip, trying to contain the screams building in your throat.

"So good," Cillian encouraged, his hands roaming all over your body, tracing patterns on your skin. "So fucking good," he groaned, his voice low and guttural.

You threw your head back, letting out a primal scream as you slammed yourself down on him, harder and faster than ever before until Cillian felt the need to slow things down.

Abruptly, he maneuvered you beneath him, taking control as he moved into a missionary position. 

With each deliberate entry, he gazed into your eyes, a mixture of lust and admiration evident in his expression. His gaze was steady, unwavering, like a man drowning in the ocean of your passion.

"How does it feel?" he asked "Does it feel good?" he questioned and you nodded, unable to speak.

The words caught in your throat, choking you in their intensity. 

You wanted to tell him how wonderful it felt, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, you simply nodded, eyes locked on his face.

Cillian watched you intently, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a sly grin. "Good," he said, his voice husky with lust. 

He slid his hands under your thighs, guiding them to rest on his shoulders. "Lift up," he instructed, his voice firm but gentle. You obeyed without hesitation, your heart pounding in your chest.

The room seemed to shrink around you, trapping your thoughts in a suffocating loop of lust and anticipation. Each thrust sent ripples of pleasure coursing through your body, and you couldn't help but let out a low moan of approval.

"Yes," Cillian hissed, his eyes locked on yours. "Like that."

He pumped into you steadily, his grip tightening around your hips. With each powerful thrust, he pushed himself deeper inside you, driving you closer to the brink.

"I'm close," you managed to utter through clenched teeth as he thrusted into you with slow but steady thrusts. 

Your body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release.

"I know," Cillian responded, his voice hushed yet intense. "Let go for me. Give in," he coaxed, his tone soothing yet commanding.

And with those words, the dam broke. Your orgasm washed over you like a wave, crashing into you with such force that it left you gasping for air. You cried out, your voice echoing in the silent room, as your body convulsed around Cillian's cock.

The intensity of your orgasm overwhelmed you, stealing your breath and clouding your vision.

"I'm going to cum," Cillian gasped, his voice strained and desperate. "Can you feel it?" he asked, his gaze never wavering from yours.

You nodded, biting your lip to stop the screams from escaping. The feeling of him throbbing inside you was indescribable and, just like that, with a low groan, he came undone.

"Fuck," he cursed, his eyes shut fiercely as he emptied himself inside you, his cock pulsing with each release.

His entire body shuddered, and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as he struggled to catch his breath.

You could feel his warmth seeping into you, his essence mixing with your own. His weight pressed down on you, cocooning you between the soft sheets.

Your heart thumped madly, the echoes blending together, creating a symphony of chaos within your chest. You stared back at him, your gaze transfixed upon his beautiful face.

"Are you okay?" he asked, the concern in his voice palpable.

"Yeah," you replied, the word scarcely audible to even your own ears. "I'm fine. Just...amazing," you added, your voice shaking.

He looked at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Good," he then said, his voice hushed yet intense. "Although, don't think that we are done here yet," he told you while easing himself out of you gently, causing you to moan once more. 

"So, you want me to stay the night then?" you asked Cillian, breaking the tranquil silence enveloping the entire room.

His eyes locked onto yours, a smoldering ember flickering in their depths, before nodding slowly.

"Only if you want to," he replied, his voice laced with uncertainty despite conveying an offer you knew he really wanted you to accept. 

"I would love to," you responded nonchalantly, giving him a peck on the cheek before sitting up carefully, maneuvering away from the mess beneath you and it was in that moment that Cillian's cellphone rang. 

The ringtone echoed through the room, jarring him from your afterglow as he reached for his phone lying on the bedside table.

Seeing the name "Danielle" come up on the screen, you knew that this was his wife calling him and, immediately, he paused, looking at you with pleading eyes for a few seconds before answering the call.

"Hey," he spoke calmly into the receiver, his voice betraying none of the events that had transpired earlier between you. "What's up?" he wanted to know and, much to your surprise, she appeared angry and, even though she wasn't on speaker, you could hear the entire conversation between them simply due to the loudness of her voice.

"How dare you treat your son like that, Cillian!" Danielle screeched into the phone, her voice trembling with anger. 

"Treat him like what? What the fuck are you talking about?" Cillian asked calmly, the confusion apparent in his voice.

"Max just told me that you wouldn't get him a lawyer, nor would you be paying to get his car fixed," Danielle spat out, her voice cold and unforgiving. "You basically disowned him because of that accident and, if you ask me, that's not fair, Cillian!" she shouted.

Cillian sighed into the phone, his shoulders dropping slightly as he tried to calm himself down.

"Look, Danny," he began hesitantly, trying to explain his side of the situation. "Max knows what he did. He fucked up and he will have to deal with the consequences of his mistake," he insisted firmly. "He is an adult and can take responsibility for his actions," Cillian argued defensively.

"So, you're actually sticking to this bullshit line?" Danielle snapped back incredulously. "He's your son, Cillian. It's your duty to support him through tough times like these," she stated bluntly.

"I know that he is my son," Cillian sighed heavily, rubbing his temples in frustration. "And as his father it is my responsibility to ensure that he grows up to be a decent human being, which won't happen by spoiling him and fixing his mistakes," he explained patiently.

Danielle snorted derisively, her voice laced with sarcasm. "And what makes you think that you're doing a good job at that?" she challenged him. "You are never fucking home. You much rather hang out with your females co-stars than your family," Danielle accused him harshly.

"Here we go again," Cillian muttered irritably under his breath, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"We've talked about this countless times," he reasoned calmly. "My work requires me to spend long hours on set and travel to promote the films," he reminded her. "And I don't choose to socialize with the actresses I work with," he added pointedly.

"You sure act like it sometimes," Danielle retorted sharply. "Remember the last scandal surrounding you and Florence Pugh?" she reminded him. "It was plastered all over the media and gossip magazines," Danielle hissed, referring to the infamous red carpet event where Cillian was rumored to have left with Florence following some flirtatious banter. 

"For the millionth time, I did not cheat on you with Florence Pugh," Cillian insisted, his temper flaring up. "She is my colleague. We were merely having a chat and people jumped to conclusions," he clarified vehemently. "Now, I am going to hang up the phone and we will discuss this later," he decided, feeling tired arguing with Danielle over something that wasn't true.

"Suit yourself," Danielle shot back coldly, slamming the phone down, cutting off Cillian mid-sentence.

The abrupt end to the conversation left Cillian feeling defeated and frustrated but, most importantly, confused about how to react towards Danielle.

"I'm sorry," he apologized to you quietly, his voice heavy with guilt. 

"It's fine. I should probably go," you said, standing up from the bed and beginning to gather your clothes strewn across the floor. You were trying to process the sudden shift in mood, and the tension created by listening to Cillian's heated discussion with his wife.

"No, wait," Cillian said, reaching out to touch your arm. "I would like you to stay," he admitted, his eyes pleading.

You hesitated, glancing at the phone still resting on the bedside table. "Are you sure about that?" you asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"Yes, I am sure," Cillian responded quietly and you studied him closely, trying to gauge whether he truly wanted you to stay or if he was simply being polite.

After a moment of contemplation, you shrugged nonchalantly. "Alright," you agreed, tossing your dress back onto the chair.

"But I hope you know what you are getting yourself into," you warned Cillian, walking back over to the bed and sitting down beside him, wearing only your panties.

"I do," Cillian assured you, his eyes shining with resolve. "And I want you to know that you won't regret staying," he promised, his voice soft and warm.

You arched an eyebrow in amusement, noticing the change in his demeanor compared to moments ago. "So, what's the plan then?" you asked, curious to see how he would handle the situation.

"Well, we could start by ordering room service," Cillian suggested, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "I am starving," he admitted, his stomach growling in agreement.

"That sounds perfect," you responded enthusiastically, picking up the menu card on the bedside table.

Cillian picked up the phone and dialed room service, requesting a cheese platter, fruit bowl, and some other snacks. Once he hung up the phone, he turned back to you and smiled.

"They said it would be about 45 minutes," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Would you like to have a bath?" he asked, eyeing you seductively.

You hesitated for a moment, glancing at the bathroom door before smiling back at him. "Together?" you asked, causing him to nod. 

"Yes," you agreed, slipping off your panties and leaving them on the floor. Cillian followed suit, leaving his boxers discarded on the ground.

Entering the bathroom together, you marveled at the size of the tub. It could easily fit two people comfortably and you lost no time in turning on the faucet and adding bubbles for a relaxing soak. 

Climbing into the water first, you gestured for Cillian to join you. The water was warm and inviting, enveloping you in a comforting embrace. You watched as Cillian stepped in behind you, his knees brushing against your legs.

He reached for a bottle of bath oil and poured a generous amount into the water, creating a delightful aroma that filled the air.

"God I wish I had a tub like this," you mused aloud, enjoying the sensation of floating effortlessly in the water.

"Well, maybe someday," Cillian replied, running his hands along your arm, his fingertips grazing your skin lightly.

"Maybe," you agreed, smiling wistfully. "For now I have to make do with a dorm room and group shower facilities," you chuckled, playfully splashing the water at Cillian.

He laughed and splashed you back before pulling you in for a kiss. It was a brief reprieve from the heaviness of the conversation he had shared with his wife earlier - and, somehow, it made everything else seem easier to bear.

You and Cillian spent a comfortable thirty minutes in the bathtub, chatting about music, dreams, and aspirations. You shared stories from your life on campus and how you navigated yourself through medical school while Cillian interjected with comments and questions, one which caught you off guard.

"If you don't mind me asking," he began hesitantly, "why did you break up with Max?" he asked, bringing up a subject you hadn't expected. You took a deep breath in, considering your response. "I mean, you were together for a while," he prodded gently, not wanting to upset you.

"I...," you stammered, staring down at the water, feeling the awkwardness creeping up on you.

"I am sorry. I shouldn't have asked. You don't need to answer that," Cillian quickly countered sympathetically, his fingers tracing circles on your shoulder.

"We were at and still are at different stages of our lives," you explained thoughtfully, avoiding his gaze. "So, our paths simply diverged I suppose and this led me to break up with him," you told Cillian, watching his reaction.

"I understand," he nodded, appearing thoughtful. "Sometimes life takes us on different roads, regardless of how much we may wish otherwise," he offered reassuringly and you couldn't help but state the obvious.

"On a road where I am sleeping with my ex-boyfriend's father?" you joked, half-seriously and half-nervous. Cillian chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the edges with amusement. "I guess so," he replied, reaching out to trace a line down your arm. "Who would've thought, eh?" he then murmured as he was feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips.

"Not me, definitely not me," you confessed, allowing a nervous laugh to escape before you asked Cillian an equally important question.

"I am curious though," you began cautiously, "Do you still love your wife?"

You swallowed hard, knowing that this was a sensitive topic and that his response might lead to an unexpected turn of events.

"No," he answered swiftly. "And if I would, then you wouldn't be here right now," Cillian answered with a subtle hint of sadness in his voice. "Our relationship has been complicated for a long time," he revealed honestly, reaching out to stroke your damp hair affectionately. "There have been arguments, misunderstandings, and many sleepless nights spent fighting to maintain our connection," he continued. "I suppose, somewhere along the way, we stopped loving each other," he concluded, his voice cracking slightly.

"Then why don't you divorce her? I mean, Max is an adult now and he would understand, right?" you ventured tentatively, still unsure of how Cillian would respond to your query.

"Because I haven't found the courage to do so," Cillian confessed frankly, his voice quivering slightly. "I always thought that, maybe, what is broken can be mended," he added sadly, running a hand through his wet hair. "But what we have become..." he trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Her jealousy caused most of our problems over time and, for the past ten years, she continuously accused me of cheating on her," Cillian sighed deeply, sinking further into the water. 

"But you didn't?" you pressed, your curiosity piqued, and Cillian shook his head slowly.

"Not once," he insisted adamantly. "At least not until now," he corrected himself, his gaze lingering on you. "And you know what the worst part of this is?" he asked rhetorically, his voice trailing off. "I don't even feel that guilty now, for being with you," he confessed, leaning closer. "It feels wrong, yet so damn right," he murmured, pressing his lips against your neck.

You pulled him closer, feeling the electricity between you surge through your veins. "You're not alone there," you whispered, your voice catching in your throat. "Like I said earlier, I never thought I'd be in this situation with my ex-boyfriend's dad," you admitted, a hint of laughter in your voice.

Cillian smiled, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "I guess we're both pretty messed up, huh?" he teased, reaching out to pull you closer. Without hesitation, you nestled your head against his chest, savoring the warmth of his embrace just as there was yet another knock on the door.

"Room service," announced a voice from outside, and Cillian reluctantly released you, wrapping a towel around his waist before stepping out of the tub to answer the door.

As soon as he returned, tray in hand, you wasted no time in grabbing a slice of cheese and nibbling on it. 

"This is delicious," you then remarked appreciatively before climbing back on to the bed with a fluffy towel wrapped around your body. 

"I'm glad you approve," Cillian grinned, offering you a piece of bread before suggesting for you to spend the next few days with him, right here at the hotel. 

You considered his offer, the idea appealing to you.

"Well, I have lectures in the morning and then I was meant to go to the movies with my friends, so...," you started to say but Cillian cut you off.

"What movie are you going to see?" Cillian asked casually, taking a bite of the apple he held in his hand. You bit into your cracker, chewing thoughtfully before responding.

"Oppenheimer," you admitted while blushing slightly and your answer caused Cillian to furrow his eyebrows. 

"That movie is totally overrated, you know," he then teased with a mischievous grin, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Well, I guess I was really just going to see it because of that hot guy who happens to play that dude who built that bomb back during the war and...," you began to joke just as Cillian started to tackle you in the most seductive way possible, pinning you beneath him playfully. 

"Uh, I see," he laughed, placing a playful kiss on your neck which, immediately, elicited a moan from you. "So, you are only interested in seeing the movie because I am in it...," he taunted, his voice husky and intoxicating.

"No," you giggled, swatting Cillian playfully. "I mean, it was a selling point, but it wasn't the only reason I wanted to see it," you explained, causing Cillian to chuckle.

"Relax, I'm only teasing," he assured you, his eyes gleaming mischievously before he kissed your neck tenderly.

"So, you really want me to stay?" you checked, your voice barely above a whisper. 

"Yes, incredibly so," Cillian replied sincerely, stroking your cheek softly.

"You're sure that you won't regret it?" you questioned, hesitant despite the electric chemistry between you.

"Absolutely not," Cillian confirmed, his voice thick with desire, and there was a vulnerability to his plea that struck a chord deep within you. You couldn't shake the feeling that this was precisely where you belonged—with Cillian, entangled in this forbidden web of passion and intrigue.

"Okay," you thus conceded softly, a slow smile spreading across your face. "I'll stay," you whispered, your breath fanning out against Cillian's bare chest before you picked up your phone and texted your best friend and roommate Lucy, telling her that you wouldn't be back until Friday. 

To be continued...

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

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[heeracha]

## something wrong? — p. jongseong

content/warning(s): s2l lmAO,, jay x gn!reader, swearing, sunghoon being a dumbass (its not a heeracha fic if theres no hoon slander, i love him), inspired by that one friends scene ep,,, yeah ive been rewatching again sTOP, unproofread hehe

wc: 1.3k (holy shit ???)

note: idk wtf is this again,,, word vomit ig ??? pls anyway,, hope u enjoy whatever the hell this is

sunghoon regrets everything. he regrets the fact that he asked you if you know someone who you could set him up on a date with. he regret offering that he can set you up with someone and you two could double date. and when you asked him about the guy he set you up, why did he have to say jay when he doesn’t even know anyone named jay? after making a lame excuse of why sunghoon can’t say jay’s family name, he runs to the nearest coffee shop.

sunghoon sighs, not believing himself that he is doing this. eh, what difference does it make? sunghoon did a lot of stupid things.

so, sunghoon goes in the middle of the coffee shop, pretending to look around and suddenly loudly call out, “jay!”

“yeah?” 

sunghoon turns around, seeing a guy around his age, wearing glasses with a classic uncle style. sunghoon’s more of a rich uncle. he looks at him, observing the guy. “are you in college?” sunghoon asks and jay raises a brow.

“um… yeah?” jay answers.

“what you reading?” sunghoon asks, nodding his chin towards jay.

jay, now weirdly looking at him, raises the newspaper. “the newspaper?” he says and sunghoon shrugs.

“yeah, you’re alright.” sunghoon says, walking up to jay and taking the seat across him. after hours of sitting and trying to convince the jay guy, he finally agrees to pretend that he knows sunghoon from high school. sunghoon promised that he will do everything, give him a year supply of his favorite food, anything. but the jay guy just wanted sunghoon to stop, so with a groan, he said “fine, i’ll meet you here later.” and sunghoon celebrates by being even louder and jumping up to go to his apartment to get ready.

“thank you! i owe you one, i’ll do anything!” sunghoon says as he leaves his number on the newspaper and leaves the coffee shop.

“i better get my year's supply of corn!” jay yells. with a groan, he falls back on his seat. “i’m not gonna.”

two hours later, sunghoon is in the restaurant, sitting across jay who sits there with a scowl. “hey, can you at least act like you’re happy or something?” sunghoon says and jay looks at him with a glare. “or not, your choice.”

“what’s their name again?” jay asks.

“y/n.”

“how old are they?”

“our age.”

“i seriously cannot understand why can’t you just tell them that you forgot about this date and that you—”

“hoon!” jay cuts himself off as he scowls deeper, looking at sunghoon.

“be cool.” sunghoon mutters as he stands up, greeting you. jay sighs, standing up as he turns to you, eyes widening as if he felt his heart stop for a moment, literally skipping a beat when he sees you. after greeting sunghoon, he turns you to jay who still hasn’t been able to move from his spot. fuck, sunghoon never told him he would get to meet someone so… beautiful.

“that’s jay.” sunghoon says, hand gesturing to jay. “jay, this is y/n.”

“hi.” you softly say, shy evident in your voice.

“h-hi.” jay stammers, chuckling embarrassingly. “hi. hi.”

“is there something wrong?” you ask, smiling, but genuinely concerned. fuck, sunghoon never told you jay was this handsome.

“nothing, nothing,” jay shakes his head lightly. then he softly chuckles. “he just… never told me he set me up with someone so…” jay trails off, feeling embarrassed. why the hell is he saying this? “...beautiful.”

you smile wider, cheeks getting red. “thank you. you don’t look bad yourself.” you say. don’t look bad? he’s literally sent from heaven, god.

sunghoon raises an eyebrow as he looks at the two of you staring at each other. huh, jay was a good choice then. “oh! uh,” you say, shaking your head lightly as you finally break your gaze from jay. “sunghoon, (name). (name), sunghoon.” you say as you gesture to your friend, sunghoon smiling at her.

after sitting down, everything was going well, everyone was getting along, but sunghoon was paying extra attention with you and jay, too nervous if jay says something wrong that doesn’t sunghoon-like. “where did the two of you meet, by the way?” you ask and sunghoon and jay look at each other.

“in a party.”

“high school.”

jay and sunghoon look at each other. “in a high school party. after graduation, we had a mutual friend that threw a party. kind of like, last hurrah before college.” jay lies through his teeth and sunghoon nods. you look at the two back and forth, eyeing sunghoon especially. 

jay almost forgot about the setup. throughout the night, he could barely take his eyes off you. jay could also feel that you’re about to catch them. 

“sunghoon,” you call and he hums nervously. “you did something, didn’t you?”

“what?” sunghoon chuckles nervously. “me? did something?”

“yeah,” you say and sunghoon shakes his head, grabbing his drink and drinking his nervousness off but it doesn’t work. “hm, what is jay’s last name?”

jay mouths “park!” and sunghoon reads his lips, smiling. “wait, we have the same family name?” sunghoon says and jay places his hand on his forehead, closing his eyes in disappointment. “i mean, park! park jay!”

“sunghoon!” you exclaim. “you set me up with a stranger? why did you—?”

“i forgot that we’re supposed to do this. i’ve been caught up with work, y/n.” sunghoon frowns.

“caught up with work, everytime i go to your apartment, you’re playing with jake!” you say and sunghoon sheepishly grins. “ugh, this is so embarrassing, sunghoon.” you say, grabbing your bag and exiting the restaurant. 

jay stands up, pats sunghoon’s shoulder as he runs out of the restaurant. jay looks at the possible directions where you could be and when he sees you across. jay sees you go inside the coffee shop. he pushes the door, going inside as he looks around to look for you.

“jongseong,” he turns to the  seat by the window where sunghoon found him eight years ago. you were there, smiling at him.

“hey, i’ve been looking everywhere for you.” jay says with a smile as he walks to you. he bends to your height, pressing his lips against yours. “the planner said she’s leaving the binder with us for a week or so, so we can properly decide.”

you nod, looking at the binder that jay placed on the table. jay watches you fiddle with your fingers, playing with the ring he proposed with—a habit you developed ever since jay popped the question—as he sits on the chair across from you.

“you okay?” he asks and you hum, nodding.

“great,” you smile. “i’m just glad you ran after me that night.”

jay nods, smiling as he holds your hands in his. “me, too.” he softly says. 

he found you sitting in this very same spot as well, fiddling with your fingers. you were embarrassed that night, but thankfully, jay calmed you down by talking to you. you asked him why did he even agree in the first place and when he answered that sunghoon promised him a year’s supply of corn (he never got it, by the way), you laughed, feeling your nerves ease down as you talk to him properly that time, no more lies and secrets.

you raise his knuckles to your lips, kissing them. “i should be the one doing that.” jay says and you chuckle, shaking your head as you let his hands go, opening the binder.

“so, i think we should put sunghoon as far as possible from the open bar in the reception.” you say and jay nods, agreeing.

“put jake with him.” jay says and you chuckle, reaching your hand out subconsciously to hold jay’s as your free hand flips pages of the binder. jay, just like the first night he saw you, doesn’t take his eyes off you the whole time, still astonished by your beauty if not more. 

you look up, smiling at him. “something wrong, honey?” you ask softly and jay smiles, shaking his head.

“nothing,” he says. “i just really love you.”

you smile back. “i love you more, jongseong.”

“debatable.”

rb, likes, comments and feedbacks are highly appreciated, thank you!

[sserapic]

maybe in another world, my dearest.

summary. getting into a relationship with the balladeer was your greatest mistake, though you don't regret anything that had happened between you. after taking the side of the good guys, he just never felt the love he used to feel every damn time he sees you. but if you couldn't handle the pain then you shouldn't feel it anymore, altering your memories of him is such a great idea. you say.

character(s). scaramouche/wanderer, gn!reader

tw. angst, no happy ending.

"come on, traveler, lead me to him."

you had convinced lumine that you're the lover of scaramouche, well, ex-lover. she hesitated despite the fact that you're a harbinger in which you couldn't be trusted very easily.

scaramouche sat there, under a tree, in the grass where he admired the view from up there. "wanderer." wanderer? had he changed identities?

he was certainly in shock to see you, well he should be, he left you in the dark and never came back which led you to search for him.

"oh, it's you."

you noticed how the traveler had left as you sat next to the former harbinger who you used to fought alongside with, who loved you so dearly but changed so damn quick.

"so, wanderer is the name you go with now?"

"yep."

even up until now you wish that he'd just fall in love with you all over again and come back to you, but you both know it wouldn't even work out anymore even if he did come back to you, the feeling left him but yours never escaped.

"y/n, you do not have to make yourself suffer like this. just go back to being the harbinger you are, but im afraid i cannot stand beside you any longer."

you fought back the tears trying to break free from your eyes, "but i cant. i always need you by my side." you sniff, refusing to even look his way.

"you have to, you can't just cry about me all the time. you're the 5th of the fatui harbingers, there's a chance that we might be each other's opponents someday."

the thought of him taking the side of the good guys while you stayed with the villains hurts like fuck. but somehow, you also cannot betray the tsaritsa.

"why does it hurt so much.." your voice muffled from covering your face with both hands, not wanting him to look at you, crying.

"because the love you had for me was genuine, and so was mine. but ive already moved on, neither will mine come back even if we get back together."

he stood up, lending you a hand.

as soon as you got back to your feet you pulled him close and sobbed in his chest, he let you sob your pain out, ignoring the fact that you're ruining his clothes.

"the traveler has mentioned that nahida can alter memories, is she telling the truth."

"yes, but wh-"

"can you please just make her erase mine?"

"y/n i don-"

"please.."

although he had to make sure that the God of Wisdom was alright with helping a harbinger, he agreed and so did nahida. she was honestly touched and wounded from hearing about you and sc- the wanderer.

he wished to stay and observe how nahida erases him from your memories and will forever be an enemy in your eyes once this finishes.

"one last time, y/n. are you okay with this."

you nodded, glancing at your ex lover one last time. if the Gods ever allow you to live once more, at least let it be with him.

"here we go."

tears started streaming down on your cheek as you closed your eyes, and felt weird seconds later. your eyes opened and observed the unfamiliar place you were in, turning your attention to a certain man beside you who was on the verge of tearing up.

maybe in another world, y/n. i will love you with all i have, that's a promise.

now he just has to watch you from afar, knowing that he would forever be the opponent of the side you've always been with. as much as he wanted to grab his feelings back, he couldn't.

note. hey !! this has been sitting in my drafts for weeks now, and this is actually inspired by a genshin oneshots book in Wattpad ! also about the smau, i commented on the second chapter. please take a look at it if you're waiting for an update on the smau !

[xamaxenta]

i lied i am unfortunately not sorry marco lets them come by for dinner every now and again because theyre both too skinny and aces shitty high school dropout job doesnt pay enough, so he makes dinner and asks ace about work and what he wants to do in the future, he lets them stay over during freezes in the winter because his apartment has heating and their rat shack apartment doesnt, he helps put luffy down for his fucking naps and ace is . ace is having a crisis. hes trying so hard not to be hard over marco and he just cant. hes hopeless. marco is so hot and so nice and so fucking hot he cant stand it.

he and marco sit on marcos big soft blue couch watching old movies and ace likes to tempt god and fate and kicks his feet into marcos lap like a little shit expecting to get pushed off or ignored and regrets everything in his entire life when marco casually settles a hand on aces bare ankle instead and his hands. are. so warm. theres a little cool spot where marco wears a big gold ring on one of his fingers from his service and hes just watching the movie like that. later he starts absently rubbing circles on ace with his thumb and then comments on how his ankles clicking a bit, here ill massage it out, and marco truly genuinely does not MEAN to be doing it, hes just doing his diligence as a DOCTOR, but ace . oh god poor ace. hes sweating hes gripping the couch for dear life he is trying to play it so fucking cool right now but he is NOT cool in fact hes ON FIRE and hes going to have a sex complex about this for the rest of his LIFE

OH 🥺 god. Marco really is their knight in shining armour and Ace keeps telling himself to get a grip Marco is a very kind person and he shouldnt look any further than that

Luffy loves Marco too hes exactly what he needs, can provide what Ace simply cannot by general default of being young himself and not having the same world experience, he needs to calm down Marco putting Luffy to bed for naptimes is nothing special but something about how he handles him is setting Aces heart on fire

MOVIE NIGHT AND MARCO EXTENDING HIS KINDNESS BC HE JUST LIKES TO HELP MASSAGING OUT AN OLD GRIPE PAIN IN ACES ANKLE HEEELP

Ace may have blurted out that his elbow, his left one has never been right since he broke it as a kid—can?

Hes pushing his luck

Marco nods and indicates for him to scoot closer hes noticed the elbow brace he wears and always wanted to ask the cause

Ace ends up tucked against Marcos side flustered with him inspecting checking the mobility of his left arm

[passionfruitmango]

I'm starting my vent post here, cancer season is doing it's thing and I'm up in my feels struggling to focus on fact

Yay I'm home and not yay I cannot leave until after sunset, there are too many people outside my building and everyone wants my attention, I just don't want to hear my government name while forcing small talk about my job, nor do i want to visit the lemonade stand with the parent flagging down tenants (mind you they don't even live here). I wanted to take out some garbage later and sit downstairs to try to ground myself and relax since I'm so yucky feeling today, but idk how fucking long the lemonade stand is going to be there. My social battery is NEGATIVE. I'm sorry I want to be fucking alone in peace without people feeling entitled to my ears and energy. Need to buy some fucking over ear headphones so people can stop assuming I can always hear them (I wear raycons for music)

I didn't realize how much the current climate of the US was getting to me, I'm genuinely spiralling about that and I can see how I've been using my furby obsession+consumerism to cope. It's also led me to thinking about semi irrational but not too far from reality fear based scenarios such as "how will I survive when/if the US loses internet?" I don't fit in with my local community and those that I do feel one with are nowhere near me. I'm stressing about how to become active in my community while simultaneously paralyzed with fear over who is and is not safe, since this county is very conservative and many people have made it loud and clear how "phobic/ist" they are of most things I am.

I really started feeling the 12H pain of "feeling like there's a glass window between you and others that prevents them from seeing you as who you are" today as I was "noticing" (I know I was projecting, but these things won't leave my head) how differently coworkers talk to me, if at all. Been in my head about how I'm a bad friend (because i am) and even as im typing this I see how silly that all is, because it doesn't really matter if people like me or not, but I crave the validation of others for my right to exist.

I'm sad that singing along to songs I love gives me anxious adrenaline when people are around now. I can't perform without feeling fear that someone will make a stupid comment. Is it even performing though if its just singing along to whatever bullshit is stimulating me through the workday?

Idk, I'm stressing over the fact I'm watching the US's pluto return in action, what good does talking about it do? It just solidifies the sad reality of the lies we were sold.

And I know it's so wrong to impulse buy things to get easy dopamine but it's that or drugs and I don't quite feel like doing dxm when i work the next day. I've also gotten myself to stop doing recreational drugs to cope. But also like, iykyk how hard it can be to say no to an old vice that you know gets your brain just soft enough to feel "okay" for a few days.

Ughughugh, I'm gonna feed my cats and shower.

[cass1x1]

[concussion] – sender checks receiver for a concussion, because it’s very possible receiver has one. | carter + paige!

@gerrykecy injury tw, violence tw, concussion tw (obviously), brief gun mention...

When Paige's eyes finally cooperate with her mind and open, she's met with such a searing brightness that it hurts, and they are instantly forced back closed. It's only Carter's whispered, "Fuck," that rouses them back open. The fact that she can place Carter's voice but not where she is or why her head hurts seems like a problem for later. Carter moves, which looks like a blur that Paige can hardly stand to look at, and suddenly they're over her. Or she thinks they are. She's having a hard time looking, and an even harder time orienting. "Fuck, boss, you really scared me there." They're trying to sound lighthearted, but there's a strain in their voice that undercuts the fake tone.

"Sorry," she mumbles. She moves her hands to try to prop herself up, but somehow that hurts too.

Her eyes flit back closed again and then she's sure Carter's over her because their hands slide under her back, pulling her upright and into their chest. "No, no, no, hey, stay with me," they whisper, in a little rhythm like a mantra. She can feel their heart beating erratically against her cheek, faster than can possibly be good for them. It's panic, she thinks. So she tries to open her eyes again, feeling the way they sag a little against her cheek when she succeeds.

She's having a hard time looking at anything, but she thinks she's in a living room. Not hers. Carter's, maybe. She's never been to their place and they've closed the curtains and dimmed the lights--thank god--but it feels like it might be theirs. It's certainly not where she remembers being last. At the garage, trying to tail the guy with the--"The files." She stiffens in their arms, though she can't quite muster the energy to sit up. "What happened?"

"They were…" Carter seems to struggle with this answer. It's so unlike them to equivocate like this that it sets her on edge. "Ruined. He hit you pretty hard with his gun and I was worried he was going to do worse so I…" They trail off, and Paige genuinely cannot imagine an end to that sentence that makes any sense. "I knocked him out and drove off but the files were on the ground and the car tore them up."

It's a setback, but her headache takes precedence over her ability to be upset about it. Those were only copies, to the best of her knowledge. They can still get the originals if they can get into the Patrick offices. "Crap," is the most response she can manage. Gently, they lower her back against the back of the couch she's on, so she's upright. They're stronger than she would've expected, for someone so scrawny. It would be impressive, if she could focus long enough to be impressed. They squat in front of her and stare, really stare. They stare right in her eyes with an intensity she doesn't quite understand. "What?"

They squint, then they hold up a finger. "Can you follow my finger with your eyes, boss?"

"What?"

They move their finger to one side, and then all the way to the other. She tries to follow it, bu it hurts and her eyes squeeze shut again. "Fuck," they mutter. "Hospital it is."

"What?" It's like they're only letting her hear half the conversation, the other half evidently in their head. She can no more follow it than she could follow their weird finger thing. It's almost familiar what they're doing, but something is missing.

They sigh and reach back under her, this time scooping her up. "You have a concussion, and that's outside my skill-set, boss. Hospital it is."

Paige doesn't even remember being hit, though she understood from their earlier description that she was. But a concussion? It's out of the question. That could mean no writing and no research for days. Weeks, even. "No. What? No. I'm--"

"If you say fine, I'll drop you right now," they say, that tone once again almost teasing, if it weren't for how tight it sounded. She lets them cut her off, though, because she's not sure how she'll fare walking at the moment, what with how dizzy having her eyes open makes her. Plus, embarrassingly, she kind of likes being carried by them. "That's what I thought. Do you think you can stay awake while I drive? I don't want to call an ambulance."

She nods. then, slow as her mind seems to be working, something occurs to her. "Can you tell them it was just a mugger?"

It's their turn not to understand right away. "What?"

"The guy that hit me with his gun." She doesn't remember it happening, still, which almost can't be a good sign, but she still has enough sense for this. "Can you tell them I was mugged? I don't want--if they try to call the cops or get a statement or anything--"

They catch on, thankfully. "Yeah, fine. We were out and you got mugged and I scared him off doing worse. That works for me."

She's suddenly so tired again, but she told them she'd stay awake, so she just nuzzles a little into their chest and breathes deep, trying to keep her mind easy enough to keep her word.

[a-lilypad]

i genuinely cannot stand some of the people in my uni modules rn to the point where i’m now skipping lectures so i don’t have to be around them because i’m too socially anxious to stop sitting with them

i talked to them for the first few days before realising they’re the most patronising and rude people i’ve ever met in my life and now it’s been like a month and i cant escape because if i sit away from them they’ll ask me why and i cant exactly say “being around you makes me want to tear off my skin” because unlike them i’m not awful and for some reason would rather suffer than upset them (despite the fact that they seem to have made it their personal goal to make me feel like shit)

they’re SO RUDE and judgmental you are fully grown adults not 15 year olds pls act like it i’m just trying to make it through the most boring course known to fucking man with all my lives in tact

[strangepersonthefirst]

Mental health Stuff warning

I fucking HATE having ARFID. Like. seriously. For those who don't know what ARFID is, essentially, it's typically co-morbid with ADHD, and is basically your brain refusing to let you eat certain food. Idk how to describe it other than an example. Let's say you're at a thanksgiving dinner. really important, big deal. hey, they're serving something new! they ask if you want some. You (who aren't diagnosed, and are constantly ashamed) agree. this food is now put on your plate. Congrats! you're fucking paralyzed! For starters, God help you if you try to actually put it in your mouth. Your arm will freeze, your hand will freeze, and you entire body will convince you it's FUCKING POISON until you put it down. "I thought you wanted that!" yeah so did I. above is a genuine arfid experience I've had several times. I've had ARFID since I was a kid- and it probably graduated from picky eating due to the fact that like.. people kept forcing me to eat. it was never on my own time. I can't have favorite food conversations. I fucking hate food conversations. I leave the room every time, because inevitably you'll ask me! I hate going to restaurants, I cannot fucking stand thanksgiving because I have to sit there and look stupid eating fuckall because if I try it's "POISON POISON POISON"

and now that my family realizes they can't shame me into eating stuff that isn't safe to my stupid fucking brain, it's pride whenever I actually get the willpower to force something into my mouth. I hate it. Fuck ARFID.

[honeysucklethornsandalligtrhorns]

TSP Character Headcanons!!

these are just personal headcanons of mine- you are not obliged to agree :]]

btw this will be a long long post so im putting the cut here lmao

𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℕ𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕣:

-demisexual af. like he sees absolutely no appeal in ANYONE unless he's hardcore bonded with em (cough cough Stanley)

-ik this one is common but he absolutely talks with his hands, like, to the point where you have to stand further back because they're gesturing so much

-cannot STAND anything scented. scented candles, soap, even certain foods (hm? projecting onto characters who?)

-He could change his voice to sound like anything (like with the mannequin wife) they just went with a british accent since it thought it made them sound 'smart and sophisticated'.

-germophobe to the max- always washing his hands, wiping stuff down, etc.. it wears gloves often in order to keep itself clean (and sane)

-only ever eats dark chocolate (FOR THE RECORD I FUCKIN HATE DARK CHOCOLATE)

-he loaded in his human avatar once and hit their funny bone/ulnar nerve HARD against a desk, and proceeded to sob for an hour while Stanley calmed him down

-he/they/it pronouns babyyy

-will often show Stanley the dumbest most grandma/white mom-eqsue facebook memes (he thinks its comedy gold and Stanley never has the heart to tell it that they're oh so painfully unfunny)

-when it realised he had feelings for Stanley he immediately reset out of surprise and fear (stanley was three hours into the baby game and wanted to strangle them afterwards)

𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕝𝕖𝕪:

-before the Parable he'd use almost an entire bottle of hair gel every day to keep his hair flat (he honestly prefers it natural)

-this guy is the biggest fucking fan of fidget toys. buttons especially.

-pansexual but demiromantic babyyyy

-has in fact eaten several bugs, the current running list including a cockroach, a mealworm, and a surprising number of ants and flies (a lot of them by accident)

-has also eaten dirt, mud, and candy wrappers- he was the type of kid who just put everything in his mouth lmao

-uses 5 million emojis/tone indicators when he texts, it started out as a joke but now he genuinely feels like he can't get his point across without them

-instead of scented things, he can't stand bad textures- the feeling of stucco walls, rubbing your fingernail wrong etc.. it's one of the reasons he's not the biggest fan of slime- he hates the feeling of it sticking to your fingers.

-he fuckin loves citrus. the fruits, the scent, etc..

-when he realised he had feelings for the Narrator he just. locked himself in the broom closet with the bucket for a couple hours.

𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕒:

-demigirl AND a lesbian babyyy

-she loves berries. blueberries especially.

-yes, she can backflip. she learned how back in high school, trying out for cheer (their crush was on the team and they wanted to impress her).

-has a hard time letting go of things- gets attached very easily lmao. She has a ton of burnt-out candles and broken mugs still sitting around their apartment.

-has punched multiple people in the face and... other places, in defense of her friends- loyal af

-likes to sing but is mediocre at best; they're really into showtunes and 70s 'hippie music'. she got to see stevie nicks in concert, and considers it one of her highest achievements. also partial to heavier stuff like rock and roll

-has a really close relationship with their dad- he helped her a lot growing up and he was so supportive of them when she came out (projecting again?? ME???)

-she has a 14-year-old pet cockatoo named Alfred (idk why im including this it's just something i believe in)

this post is getting so long but i just had to include my favorites, part 2 later!!

[zoroara]

For the headcanon ask game for Fran/Flan, Caladrius, and/or Lancia! Course, you can pick and choose which you'd like to answer for :D

🥇 - A headcanon about what they're best at 🍫 - A headcanon about food 💤 - A headcanon about their sleep 🏳️‍⚧️ - A gender headcanon

I hope you enjoy ^^

Oh the fool you are thinking I will pick and choose. It's Ironically easier for me to do them all than sitting there to decide. So lets get to it shall we?

Okay for Fran

The thing Fran is best at? Well other than getting on people's nerves- He's actually really good at the jobs the Varia gives him, being perfect in stealth and trickery. But instead if your were to ask him he'd instead just say he's very good at pranks. and, well he isn't wrong.

Fran isn't actually all that picky though he does tend to take his food away from the table to eat. He's used to being alone a lot of the time so when he can get away with it he takes his plate with him an eats in silence. Since a good portion of time people are distracted at least when he's over at the Varia it's one of the few times he can get some fucking quiet.

Since Fran has passive illusions that he needs to keep in check I don't think it'd be a surprise that if he's deeply dreaming or having a nightmare that things from said dream get illusioned into reality. Thankfully both groups he stays with have very strong illusionists that can correct it when this happens, but the Varia had to once deal with water up to their waists and monetary negotiations with Mammon at the same time because of it.

Next Gender! Well here's the interesting thing, I think Fran has as much gender as mammon as in like none. But he also just doesn't have any preferred pronouns, so when people say "he" he just goes "Oh guess I'm a he rn" He would likely have the same thought process if any pronoun was used to refer to him, but because most people just use he since he never said anything about it.

I'll do Lancia next just cause I want to organize Canons first and then OCs last in these asks.

We'll need to get fighting out of the way, the poor man got turned into a mind controlled weapon over it, of course that's one of the things he's best at. But in terms of non-combat he genuinely seems like he's good with people when he's finally allowed to relax and chill.

You know it's kind of hard, I imagine that because of what he was forced to do he had to learn to not be choosy when it comes to what he got, since given the circumstances (Looks at the fact his entire family is dead because of him among other things) He probably happily accepts anything given to him. He probably cried the first time he was given a home cooked meal after that time.

Probably an infamously light sleeper, probably on guard a lot and easily has nightmares about the times he's been mind controlled. He probably rarely has any good sleep since that time. Even long after it's been over.

He's definitely a dude but he is extremely gender. I don't think there's a lot going on there other than being just some guy. Got some great vibes though. good presentation.

And finally Caladrius

He's great at pattern analysis and has very quick reaction time. Which while very useful in battle he actually just uses more often to break highscores in the local mall's arcade. He and Squalo don't know it but they have a rivalry for keeping the first place spot on all the cabinets there for the same reason.

Cal really really can't stand if a food has an off flavour. It's made him extremely good at cooking because he can taste minute differences but trying to serve him anything is a nightmare. Thankfully he's very polite about it and will typically bring his own food.

Cal is an incredibly deep sleeper but has trained to wake up by the specific sound that the alarms that play at the archives. You cannot wake him up any other way. God himself could come down with a clap of thunder and it would not wake him but the moment that alarm sounds? he's out the fucking door fully dressed in seconds.

Gender! What gender! Who fucking knows Cal won't tell me. I only know he has he him pronouns. Is he a trans man? a butch Lesbian? something else? I don't know. He simply is. Does he know? Probably. But good luck getting the answer.

[fyodior]

Hey Flora!! I absolutely love matchups so I wanted to give this a try!

Nickname: Ai Mbti: ESTP Pronouns: She/Her

Basic Info: I work in graphic design, my jobs pretty flexible, so I stay home quite frequently during work hours.

Appearance: I’m pretty tall, about 6’1. I have long black hair, really dark brown eyes, and pale skin.

Personality: I’d consider myself a relatively smart person- especially when it comes to people. I try to analyze everyone around me, it helps me talk to them in a way were it’s more possible I’ll get the outcome I want (If that makes any sense-) People call me manipulative and hey, maybe I am, but you gotta do what you gotta do. I’m kind of stubborn, if I don’t wanna do something unnecessary, I’m not gonna bother. I’m sorry this is really bad, I can’t really describe myself flat out so I’ll try to elaborate on it more in other ways 😭

Likes: Drama, ever since I was little I always liked knowing everything about everyone (I was a fucking menace as a kid 😰) Debates, sure, some instances could be considered arguments but they’re still entertaining— if I’m passionate about an opinion, I WILL fight to the death about it. Music, I can’t even focus w/o listening to music, I always carry my headphones with me. Horror, again, ever since I was kid, I’ve always been into horror. I could ramble about Junji Ito’s work (*cough* The Enigma of Amigara Fault *cough*) all day long. Cussing people out, not sure why, it’s just fucking hilarious. Pulling allnighters. Spiders, used to bring in these massive orb weavers into my house as a kid and let them live in my room.

Dislikes: Being dominated, any context, I do not like it. Being told to shut up, I swear to god I can deck you in the face and will if you don’t let me ramble about the random nonsense I enjoy. Overly sensitive people. I cannot stand people who go off crying every 5 minutes. Harry Styles. I fucking hate Harry Styles. I don’t actually have many things I genuinely dislike tbh-

Nsfw: why not

Characters I don’t want to be paired with: Mori

ai x ango

first off -- sorry this took me so long!! im hoping its better late than never ♡

✎ i rly feel like this is the perfect match for u

✎ the general vibes i am picking up are: intelligent (emotionally and academically), straightforward, passionate, analytical. very virgo

✎ this is essentially ango in a nutshell too pfffff

✎ i think its less manipulation and more being confident in knowing what you want and how to get it. also very ango. he would have immense respect for this/for you and you drive and decisiveness as a person

✎ i feel like ango can tend to act a bit high and mighty, but he would see you entirely as an equal. you match him in intellect and commitment to a cause.

✎ you are both very fact-driven, and less so emotionally driven. you'd often see eye to eye on a lot of topics, just because you come at them with the same viewpoint/attitude

✎ re: also strongly dislikes overly emotional people who are incredibly sensitive and reactive

✎ on the flip side this man is messy as fuck and so is a drama queen bfdkfjdfkj he will gossip with you and get nosy he loves it

✎ he can come off as cold/distant and self-serving, but in private he is far from it. he would gladly listen to you essentially present dissertations on whatever topic has caught your attention recently, or

✎ i see him as a very gentle lover. would never ever make you feel like anything other than his equal whom he loves and respects, and wants to treat you as such. he's the type you can just sit in comfortable silence with, not feeling any obligation to "entertain" the other.

✎ gentle lover continued: he's very thoughtful and in tune with your wants and needs, as he is also incredibly analytical and reads people very well. he can tell when you're having a shit day and will quietly bring you your comfort food/drink or just put on some music for you and leave you alone if that's what you want. he wouldn't bother the shit out of you to talk it out with him or whatever pffff he knows you'll communicate when and how you want.

✎ nsfw: i see ango as not necessarily vanilla, but appreciates simpler things. he LOVES seeing you in lingerie, especially something he picked out for you. riding him wearing a lacy black set of bra and panties pushed to the side- mf will last approximately 5 minutes fdkfjkdf but don't worry he will eat you out/finger you to your hearts content and come as many times as he can pull out of you teehee

✎ ango does not mind being the dominated one in the relationship sexually bfdkfjdbd i see this man being so pathetic and whiny in bed and will totally let you fuck him up pls

✎ i guess what im trying to say is that the two of you would coexist very well, and view/approach life very similarly. perfect match imo :)

[hangmanssunnies]

Hello. I’m back. I’m moved. I’ve read it. It was fucking incredible (as I knew it would be). It’s so good (so good!) I need four hundred billion more words of it right now. First of all, Marlee and Javy deserve besties of the century awards. Throughout they are so kind and caring, my heart cannot take it. Jake using all my favorite petnames - sweetheart, honey, sugar (even the ma’am usage is adorable)!!! I think my favorite thing about this is that Jake is so clearly a hurt, little boy inside. The way you write his pain and anger, especially after the porch incident and then discussing how Javy (his teammate, best friend, brother) called him an asshole was just heart breaking. This man is touch starved, he doesn’t allow himself to express emotions, and he very clearly is bottling everything up and pushing it down until it gets so bad he can’t function anymore (see the puzzle). But the fact that he’s starting to be affectionate, allowing some smaller/easier emotions to be felt (or at least trying to help the reader work through her emotions), and allowing help from his friends shows the start of growth. Both the obvious and subtle protectiveness is so sweet. Always choosing to stand between the one he cares about and the trouble, while also answering the door (even though he never explicitly says please let me answer the door). COMPLETING THE FINAL DOUBLE TAP FOR HIM BECAUSE HE’S TOO BUSY HEART EYEING BUT WE ALL KNOW IT’S IMPORTANT TO HIM??? *cries and screams* AND THEN IMMEDIATELY AGREEING TO MOD PODGE IT AND HANG IT BETWEEN THEIR BEDROOM DOORS???!?!! *falls down the stairs because of the tears blocking my vision* And finally… the crème de la crème of part one… the puzzle table. The first thing that got me is that it’s a month later. He’s been thinking about this for a long time, finally has decided to bring it up (is he ready to share his idea? is he slightly tipsy? can he just not hold it in anymore?) and decides to share while cuddling on the couch. I read this as my movers were loading big stuff into the truck and I genuinely had to sit down in my newly empty closet. This last section was so sweet (and a tiny bit heartbreaking, all of Jake’s vulnerability out in the open) it made my chest feel so warm. (Also Jake liking his hair played with and tugged? I see you.) Below is my all time favorite bit of part one (which I read two more times today after the original). I’m so excited for part two, I can’t wait to read it!!!

You can’t help but let your hands slip back into Jake’s hair, and he returns to sketching on his notepad. It was a moment of quiet peace you knew you didn’t ever want to let go of.

"Javy said that you don’t like to do puzzles with other people, and that’s what helps you pull out of the pit."

Jake’s eyes don’t leave his notepad, and he turns the page. You watch Jake start to scrawl the pros of a dovetail joint versus a dowel joint before he starts to draw it out as well. You almost don’t think he will say anything back by the time he finally does.

"You aren’t other people,” Jake tells you.

I'll be honest friend and say your comments left me so flabbergasted and flattered I haven't known what to say. I keep rereading these and giggling while working on part two. I wish I had more eloquent words to express how I felt reading your thoughts. All I can say is

Thank you, thank you, thank you thankyou. THANK YOU!!!!! THanK YoUU !!! <333333333333333

[dzpenumbra]

10/22/22

Today was a bit of a miss. I played games for most of the day. I don't like that feeling, just sitting around and playing single-player games all day when the only thing I want is to be around friends. It's getting really sad. Like... I'm still paying for the Minecraft server. I haven't even streamed in... I don't even know how long. I just have it in the back of my head, "just keep it up, just in case... someone wants to play." And I guess that someone in my head is my brother.

Despite the fact that he has never shown an interest in playing. Despite the fact that he won't even speak to me... again... and hasn't in about 2 weeks. Time flies. Why? All because I asked him to come over and make art and listen to music with me, to distract me while my landlords inspected the house. And he said a firm "no" because he "cannot emotionally support me".

I genuinely don't know how to react to this. I have written pages to him at this point, it makes no difference. This feeling of helplessness, false accusation, punishment, being shut out. It's fucking brutal. It's like... the exact opposite of me. I'm always reaching out and apologizing and trying to make amends and going the extra mile. I mean... a bit less lately since so many people took advantage of that, but it's really been my M.O. and I did pride myself in that for a long time. Having the exact opposite be put on me is just... it's like kicking me in the nuts emotionally, honestly.

Like... I don't know how this kind of behavior has gotten normalized in my life. I have had people near me, that called themselves friends, that I called friends... lecture me about cleaning my room like they were my parent, tell me I can't call them when they're at their girlfriend's house. You know, I'm just cutting myself off here, I really don't want to relive all of this tonight. Honestly. I've been just coming out of a dark place, so I really just don't want to slip right back into another one. Needless to say, it's... probably because I just let them do it, and I don't speak up, and when I do they don't take me seriously (or treat me like a screaming lunatic). So... why am I spending time with these people? Why don't I just... walk away?

I really... don't know what draws me back. I don't know why I have so much trouble walking away from people, any people. And I also have trouble reaching out to new people too. There has to be a connection there.

Come to think of it, I'm actually pretty bad at reconnecting with old friends too. I guess it's breaking the ice that I'm no good at? I practiced reaching out to old friends a few years ago, it was very counter-intuitive and honestly yielded very little response. I don't know, my head is kinda swimming right now.

I just... cling to people, I guess. And try to see the best in them. Accept everyone as a work in progress and try to work with them to help them heal, help them become better people. It's very encoded into my personality. I think because of that, because I accept people for who they are and try to see the best - and because I have really low self-esteem and don't stand up for myself or walk away from shitty scenarios - I end up around a lot of people who sorta just take advantage of that. Maybe I'm even a magnet for those kinds of people. I don't know.

It's just been on my mind, as I thirst for social contact and think... okay... well I'm aware of this pattern now... and I really want to be deliberate as I start making new friendships, meeting new people. I want to be vigilant and know when I need to walk away. And I need to be confident in my ability to find new people too. Both right now, and if something comes up and I'm suddenly facing isolation again.

That's a big one, I guess. I get in that place where I'm like... well, I'd rather be around someone who just talks about their self all the time and treats me like garbage than be... alone. Even though... if I'm just kind of a tool for their ego to feed... I'm basically alone in that moment anyway.

So yeah, maybe it's a PTSD thing? Maybe it's not just as simple as one moving part? But it's definitely something I need to work on. And I'm pretty excited about trying to find a PTSD specialist soon. I think I'll try tomorrow, I forgot today.

In the case of my brother, really all I want is a phone conversation. To clear up that I was very clearly not asking for emotional support. And if he has a problem with being emotionally supportive, he really should take the time to have a conversation and explain what he struggles to do and how it affects him. Then we can strategize a bit and discuss. But to just have a demand put on you - "you do not get emotional support" - and to declare that as a boundary? I mean. Like... isn't that setting a boundary... for me? Not like... "I struggle with emotional support, so we may need to discuss alternatives. It's not that I don't care, it's just difficult for me." It's "you do not get this from me." I have seriously never seen this before, even in fiction. It's really hard to react to something so alien.

I was going to send a message asking for a phone call today, but saw him on Discord playing games with his friends that I have literally never met, he has never introduced me to, and he plays games with every weekend, it seems. I didn't want to disturb. Honestly, more because I didn't want my head ripped off for it. Sending a DM to someone on Discord is not an aggressive move, I really don't want to buy into that narrative that me messaging him is a bad or hostile thing. I don't want to have him snap back or make excuses. That's the abnormal thing. What I'm doing is trying to express caring and extend a diplomatic olive branch. Look at how conditioned my thinking is here, good lord. I'm just like trying to talk sense into this weird Pavlovian training that if I try to open up diplomatic channels, that person will scream at me and fight me. Because I have had several people do this, consistently, for years. And it just sorta... became a reflex, I guess.

So I hope I find someone really nice soon that can put up with my weirdness and fear, and can be the voice who goes -

"What?! You're not an asshole for reaching out because you only have 3 more weekends in the same area code as him, and you want to make the best of it instead of sitting 5 minutes apart all day every day and just not fucking talking. That's not you being an asshole! You're being the brave one! You're breaking the ice for him. If he isn't grateful for that, he's goddamn lost and he's choosing to find his own way back."

It's hard to be your own cheerleader, when 9/10ths of the time that other voice, the supportive voice, the one above, is stifled under layers of insecurities, fears, ghostly voices of lost loved ones, memory flashes. It just gets lost in the noise. It really takes a lot of practice to find that voice in the heat of the moment. It kinda feels like trying to navigate your room at night in the pitch dark. Like you know the layout pretty well, but if you bump into something, that thought is in charge now. Naw, that analogy isn't specific enough. I mean... like finding a lightswitch in a pitch dark room, when you're on the other side of it. Like... you can find it eventually. And with enough practice, I'd like to think it can be pretty automatic. I've gotten pretty damn good at navigating cluttered dark rooms, kiiiinda why I'm using the analogy... With enough practice and deliberate visualization, it gets a lot easier. So, in theory, it should be a similar kind of practice for navigating an emotional reaction to a social situation. Practice, practice, practice.

So here's the real trick. Ready for it? How do you practice social stuff - you know, so you can be safe around and have healthy relationships with good people - when you have no one in your life to practice social stuff with? Hmm... Been trying to figure that one out for like 2 years now, almost 3.

I'm exhausted, honestly. So let's wrap this up on a good note, because this has been a big bummer. I got a big section of my hoodie done today and I'm cool calling the mandala done for now. I put a picture on here. I'm happy with it. Now I'm on to either a new piece on a different piece of clothing... or a new section of the same hoodie. Maybe like an upper-back piece above the mandala... but that would get covered by the hood... I was thinking maybe wrist pieces, or a piece along the rim of the hood. I don't know. I really want to keep the... tattoos on clothing... kinda look to it. Black and gray, subtle but detailed. Maybe I'll keep it all themed geometric for this one? Meh. Fuck rules, this is my hoodie, I'll just wing it. I do have the colored inks to try out, so I'll see if I have something to test them on, I don't think they're gonna work well on black cloth... and I have... basically all dark colored clothes so that's a bit tricky... but yeah, nature of the beast. Maybe I'll do socks or something, that could be interesting.

[elysianslove]

omg wait ok who in jjk do you think is an ass, thigh or tits person?? also congrats on 4k thats so sexc of u!!! you're so talented you deserve every one of them <33 MWAH

bb thank you so much ily so much <333 kiss kiss mwah <333 and! thank you for asking this i have been waiting for this ask to come into my inbox. warning; suggestive and mentions of nsfw

ITADORI YUUJI is an ass person. aside from the fact that it’s canon, i see him as someone that’s just mesmerized with ass. loves seeing it in jeans, or those patterned loose pants yk the one that make everyone’s ass jiggle, or in a tight dress, or in booty shorts. and not just that! he loves to be touching you too. as his s/o, you are never free from his groping hands. loves to lift you up and just place his hands on your ass, to ‘keep you steady’ or whatever, and also loves to lay on your ass if you’re on your stomach. makes you laugh so it jiggles against his head/cheek. he’s a bit too shy to smack your ass in public, but catch him doing it all the time at home. like as you’re passing by him or standing there minding your business. or just always having a handful of your ass when you two are sitting down/cuddling. definitely fake fucks you when you bend over too just saying. 

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI i see more as a tits kinda guy. he says doesn’t have a preference, but that all changes when he sees you in a low-cut revealing shirt. he’s a respectful guy so he will be trying not to look. it doesn’t really work though. it’s not that he doesn’t like ass or thighs, it’s more that whenever he sees your tits it goes to his dick a lot quicker lmao. he loves, loves, loves it when you don’t wear a bra, no matter the shirt you wear, no matter your breast size, and if it’s see through as well? consider him dead. oh and megumi’s hands are large. i’m not saying he has a size kink but, there’s just something about the way they look against your breasts. also! he really likes,,, just, kinda, fondling with them. holding them, groping them, as he’s sitting there. it’s fun. and warm. also adores stuffing his face against your chest, even if you have small tits, he just likes it. it’s all about the intimacy of laying on your lover’s naked chest for him <3 

KUGISAKI NOBARA is definitely a tits kinda girl. like no questions, no criticisms, nothing just vibes and titties. she loves the way they look, the way they feel, in her hands, in her mouth, literally anything and everything. considering she has breasts too, she knows just how comforting it is to hold onto them just randomly. if you have big breasts, she’s in heaven as she stuffs her face against them, nothing nsfw just cause. if you have small breasts, she’s still in heaven as she just sucks on them as a stress reliever. she’s like a toddler when she’s stressed like ‘lemme suck on your tiddies pls’ lmfao. also!! she is a fashion icon, an star, an idol, she knows the type of clothes that look flattering and which don’t. also she loves to go bra shopping with you just so she can get into the changing room and start groping and bouncing your breasts to test out the bra, as she claims. but yes, she’s a titties girl! 

RYOMEN SUKUNA is, if not an all kinda guy, a thighs man. wears them like ear muffs lmfao. his infatuation was first purely nsfw, and he would show it by constantly leaving bruises all over them, marking you, whether it was from his tight, vice like grip, or from his mouth. but then over time it became just genuine love and fascination, especially after that one time you had whined at him after sex to just massage your sore thighs for you. he’d begrudgingly agreed, but then he ended up loving the feel of kneading them in his strong hands. and after growing comfortable with cuddling, his favorite position is just where his head is in between your thighs and your ankles are crossed at his chest. he can stay like that for hours honestly. also he likes to have his hands resting there, squeezing every once in a while. but, like i said, sukuna just likes your body in general. 

INUMAKI TOGE was a little more difficult to decide, and i’m still not that sure of this, but i think he’d be an ass person, just because i think he’s lowkey very touchy with his s/o and he’d like to just— rest his hands there all the time. likes it when the two of you are cuddling and you leg is lifted up across him, allowing him to settle his hand on the curve of your ass. also he’s lowkey a very cheeky person when it comes to his s/o, so i can just imagine as you’re laying down on your tummy, he pats your ass and every time it jiggles he giggles to himself lightly. also the type to rest against his s/o’s ass just cause but he would actually fall asleep like that. also! whenever he’s resting like that, he likes to give your ass a little peck, just a small smooch, a token of appreciation if you will, before he pats where he kissed lightly, and in his own way he just says, “nice :D.” 

GOJŌ SATORU. ass. ass. ass. ass. ass. ass man! is absolutely in love with your ass. smacks it in public with zero shame, just sends a teasing grin your way, and like, finger guns at you with a wink or something. when you walk past him at home in shorts or like only your underwear, he likes to give it a nice little pat. every single time. and when you bend over while he’s sitting on the couch or laying on the bed or something, he calls out in the cheekiest, most teasing, most annoying voice, “nice.” i hate his sexy ass sm. does tiktoks with you that include you throwing it back on him because he wants to give you reason to. loves to watch you put on your clothes, especially jeans, when you like jump in them. he’s just a pervert with a license to constantly hit on you. 

NANAMI KENTŌ is also definitely an ass man. look at him. tell me he doesn’t love ass. loves to fondle and grope it all the time, no matter where you are, and he’s very good at making it look subtle too so he gets away with doing in public too. nanami strikes me as someone that’s slightly possessive, not unhealthily so, but he does always like to subtle hand on you whenever the two of you are out, and more often than not his hand’s resting right above your ass. also he’s a very giving partner, in all ways, so i see him offering to give you massages all the time. definitely lingers on your ass, kneading strongly yet softly, even if you don’t need it? he just likes to do it. is not as open about it as the others, but he’s very obvious about it hehe

ZENIN MAKI is a thighs girl. also is the type to love stuffing her face in between them, but it’s a fixation kinda thing where she cannot stop ogling at your legs, specifically your thighs. loves to grope and squeeze at them all the time, and her all time favorite thing is seeing you in thigh highs, where the stockings squeeze at your thighs just a little. it makes her mind cloud over. 

ZENIN MAI is a a tits girl. i was thinking maybe she’s an ass girl, but i’m so certain she wouldn’t be able to take her eyes off of you or your cleavage if you wore anything to show off your breasts. definitely likes to lay on your chest and kiss and suckle on them, just randomly. also kinda a possessive thing, cause she will absolutely leave marks. she just. loves your tits okay? 

GETŌ SUGURU is an ass man. loves seeing you all dressed up in outfits that show your ass off, and almost always he won’t really touch, not unless the two of you were really intimate, but he looks. he looks so much, and he makes it so obvious that he’s checking you out. in public, at home, doesn’t matter. he’ll be eyeing you up and down and will have this sultry smirk as he glances at your ass. kinda hot ngl.

MAHITO is also a little bit tricky because i want to say ass, but i also want to say tits. somewhere in between ass and tits then. he has like,,, moods for them you know. sometimes he won’t stop ogling at your breasts, and other times he can’t keep his hands off your ass. either way, he’s very teasing about it, and he will buy you really provocative clothes to show both off. so kind <3

[seijorhi]

Unprofessional

as promised, the MSBY manager AU 💕 

MSBY Black Jackals x female reader

TW non-con, smut, gang-bang, nsfw(ish)

You second guess yourself, now that the Captain’s right here in front of you, fidgeting in your seat like a little kid sent to the principal’s office.

In all fairness, you were the one to ask him to come in early, figuring that it’d be easier to say what you needed to before everyone else arrived, rather than having it eat away at you while you waited for practice to end.

Yet under the scrutiny of his dark eyes, you wonder whether you should have just let it slide. At least for a few more weeks. Taking a formal complaint to the higher ups was a step too far, and you hadn’t wanted to bother the coaches this close to the start of the season for something so… trivial. Meian seemed like the better choice. He’d listen to you and be able to help; you trust the Captain and you know the team does, too. If he told them to back off, they would, you’re almost positive. But now that he’s here, there’s this nagging feeling of-

A hand touches your shoulder, and you flinch at the sudden contact, jerking back to the present. 

“Hey,” he says, a slight frown marring his features. “Whatever it is, you can talk to me - don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve been a little out of it lately.”

There’s nothing but concern in his eyes - no judgement, or irritation, and something inside of you eases just a fraction. This is Meian, right from the moment you signed onto the team - granted, only a few months ago - he’s done his utmost to make sure you’ve felt welcomed and part of the team.

You take a breath, offering him a small, tight smile. “I-it’s um, some of the guys- well a few, I guess…” your fingers twist in your lap, and Meian squeezes your shoulder lightly in response. 

“Miya hitting on you, right? Getting a little outta hand?” he surmises. 

And for a split second, you’re surprised. But really maybe you shouldn’t be. Miya’s the one who’s overt about it, drawling stupid, cheesy pickup lines whenever you walk in, slinging an arm around your side and dragging you close, all the winks and the innuendos about as subtle as a tank.

Of course Meian noticed, but that’s just how Atsumu is. He doesn’t bother trying to hide it because nobody but you seems to mind. And maybe, if that’s all that it was, you’d be able to grin and bear it, but it’s not. 

“Yes and… no.”

His brows draw together. “No?”

Taking another deep breath, you begin to tell him everything. Miya’s incessant flirting, all the hugs and touches that fell just the wrong side of what you considered professional. They’re a tactile team, with one notable exception, and you understand that, but the way Bokuto, Hinata and Miya feel comfortable just grabbing you and dragging you around, interrupting you in the middle of whatever task you’re doing to make you pay attention to them is a little alarming. 

And then there was the incident last week, when Inunaki had caught you smiling at your phone during their cooldown and called you on it, which drew the attention of the rest of the team - only to have Bokuto snatch it out of your hands and start reading through your messages. Of course, Meian was there for that, putting a stop to it only when the wing-spiker had started reading them aloud, much to your mortification.

But he hadn’t been there two afternoons later, when an old friend of yours had swung by to pick you up and you’d had to deal with half the team glaring daggers at him over your shoulder like a pack of overprotective mother hens.

Even Sakusa, who usually kept his nose out of the others’ nonsense, stood off to the side with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, glowering at your friend until you both disappeared from sight.

The texts that blew up your phone in the hours that followed crossed so many lines, it honestly scared you a little. 

Meian doesn’t say a word as you talk, the words flowing easier the more you tell him. It’s not that anything they’re doing is wrong per se. They’re not hurting you, and you think that aside from Miya, the team’s attitude is coming from a good place - some protective, irritating big brother kind of thing. 

There’s nothing wrong with it, except the fact that you don’t want any part of it. You’re a professional and this is a job - a new one, an important one. If you ever want anybody to take your dreams of coaching a pro team seriously you cannot have so much as a whisper of anything less than absolute professionalism. God forbid, if rumours start spreading that you were sleeping with somebody on the team you can pretty much kiss your dreams goodbye. 

At the end of it, Meian’s chin is resting on his fist, faint dissatisfaction pinching at his face, and for a moment, you’re worried that he’s about to chew you out for wasting his time - you know he’s stressed with the start of the season only days away - but he only sighs, leaning back in his seat and shaking his head.

“Thank you for telling me, I’ll talk to them.”

And it’s like this huge weight just falls off your shoulders and suddenly you can breathe easy. “Thanks, really,” you tell him, and the smile on your face is genuine this time.

“Anytime.”

—

You don’t know when he finds the time to pull them all aside, but the next morning when you walk into the gym and Bokuto catches sight of you, golden eyes widening in delight, he starts to bound towards you-

“Bokuto.”

-and stops mid-stride, face falling like a kicked puppy. His shoulders slump, glancing over his shoulder at the Captain, watching the both of you through narrowed eyes.

He doesn’t say another word to the wing-spiker, turning back around to continue his conversation with Adriah - something about tightening up their blocks before the game against the Adlers - and despite the fact you can see half the team’s attention drawn towards you both, none of them say a word either. 

It’s strange, compared to the last few weeks, it’s suddenly like you’re a ghost. They thank you when you pass them their towels and bottles, and for once Hinata sits still when you help him tape up his ankle, though his eyes still follow your every movement with unnerving focus.

They’re polite and respectful, but unless you’re directly addressing them or they need something, it’s like you don’t exist. 

Even Atsumu manages to keep his comments to himself when it comes time for the team to stretch out, though judging from the scowl on his face whenever he glances towards the Captain, he’s not particularly thrilled about it. 

There’s one more day before game day, and they’ve got bigger things to worry about, but for you it’s like you can suddenly breathe easy. You don’t have to tiptoe around your own discomfort, you can just do your job and help them. It’s not that you hate them, not even Atsumu - though he does grate on your nerves at times - you just can’t afford to let them fuck this up for you.

They’re your team, and you’ll help them and you’ll stand on the sidelines and cheer and support them until you’re red in the face. You’ll celebrate with them and commiserate if they lose, but there has to be a line. 

And maybe finally they’re realising that.

Meian sends you home while the others head off to the showers with a clap on your shoulder. “Go home. Today’s been long enough, and you need your rest. We’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

You don’t fight him on it, already feeling the exhaustion creeping through your body. 

But after months in this job, it shouldn’t come as a surprise to find that by the time you’ve had a quick catch-up with the coaches about tomorrow’s training, changed and gathered up your things, you find yourself falling into step with Sakusa, freshly showered and also on his way out. 

Dark eyes find yours, but he doesn’t say a word - at least until the two of you reach the big double doors at the gym’s entrance. “Do you need a lift home?”

It’s rare of him to offer, but you suppose that it’s later than you’d normally leave, the sun already disappearing beneath the horizon. Nevertheless, you shake your head, “No, it’s only a ten minute walk, I’ll be okay,” you say. And almost as an afterthought you smile and add, “Thank you, though.”

He regards you silently for a moment, but simply shrugs his shoulders, “Fine.”

Sakusa turns to leave, heading off to the carpark when a sudden thought strikes you, and before you can think better of it, you call out to him, “Your lineshots were incredible today, by the way. You played well. And please don’t forget we’ve got an early start tomorrow!”

It’s a pointless statement, on both counts. Sakusa doesn’t crave praise the way some of his teammates do, and you can imagine how little it means coming from you of all people. He’s also the most punctual, usually the first in, preferring to get stretched and warmed up before the rest of the team arrived. But the change in plans was kind of last minute and a reminder never hurts.

Sakusa pauses mid-stride, glancing back at you once more over his shoulder. “I know,” he says, and maybe it’s a trick of the light, but you swear there’s something different in his eyes as he stares back at you. Not angry per se, but… you can’t quite put a finger on it. It’s odd, you think, out of character for the usually aloof spiker. “Captain told us.”

—

It’s still dark when you arrive at the gym, and the lights are all off, not a soul in sight. That in itself doesn’t strike you as odd though, checking your phone you see that there’s still twenty or so minutes until you were all supposed to meet, but you would have thought that the coaches at least would’ve been here, or Sakusa maybe, if not Meian.

“Mornin’ princess,” a familiar voice drawls, and you jump a little at the sudden weight of his arm draping over your shoulders.

Atsumu’s smile is far too wide and upbeat considering it’s only a little after six in the morning. You’re used to a dead-stare, don’t-talk-to-me-until-I’ve-had-caffeine Atsumu, and it’s almost startling enough to make you forget the arm he has around you.

Either that, or you’re just bewildered that he’s actually arrived early for once in his life.

“You’re awfully chipper,” you mutter, trying to shove his arm off of you as you walk in tandem towards the gym. It’s a pointless endeavour - he replaces it a moment later, tugging you closer. “And early. Do you normally do this the day before the season starts, or can we expect to see you bright and early every morning for training?”

The corner of his lip quirks into a lazy smirk, and Atsumu laughs, “Nah, I’m actually late. All the others are already here.”

You’re halfway through fishing for the keys when he just pushes the door open, and you falter. “Wait- they’re here already?” you glance inside, and the lights are all still off and there’s not a soul in sight, but- “I thought Meian said we were meeting at 6:30.”

There’s something in the way that his smirk widens that’s almost unsettling, but he’s already pushing you forward, flicking on the lights as you pass.

“Oh, he did.”

Your eyebrows draw together in confusion, but it’s too early and you’re too tired to try and decipher Atsumu’s cryptic bullshit. He already has you on edge with how close he’s got you - you can feel the heat radiating from his body, the familiar scent of his cologne invading your nose. “Fine, whatever. Just- just put your stuff away, grab the others if they’re here and I’ll see you on the court in a few minutes.”

You try to shrug off his arm, but his grip only tightens, “Nope,” he says, firmly steering the both of you in the direction of the locker room.

“Miya,” you start, squeezing your eyes shut. You can already feel the beginnings of a headache taking root in your skull, but Atsumu just chuckles lightly, patting your shoulder. 

“Relax, wouldja? Jeeze, yer so tense!” 

With no other sound but the eerie echoing of your footsteps across the linoleum floors, his laugh is too loud, too grating. It sets you on edge, and you have to bite back a scowl of your own and remind yourself that you only have to put up with him a little longer - just until Meian gets here. Unperturbed by your silent irritation, Atsumu continues, “We know how hard you’ve been working lately. We came in early to say thank you, y’know, for everythin’ ya do for us.”

And for one split second, regret fills you, snuffing out the spark of irritation simmering through your veins. Here you are, seconds away from slapping the setter when he is - for the first time in his life - actually trying to do something nice for you. You sigh quietly, smoothing your expression over as he slows down and pulls you to a stop.

He lets you slide out from under his arm, your back to the locker room door, moving so that he’s standing directly in front of you. You open your mouth to speak, an apology on the tip of your tongue, but once again, Atsumu beats you to it. “Yer the best manager we’ve ever had.” He takes your hand in his, twining long fingers with yours and steps closer.

Too close.

“Atsu-”

“We really do care about you - love ya, even -  which is why it kinda felt like a kick in the balls when the Cap came and told us ya wanted some space. Said we were bein’ too ‘overbearing’ and ‘inappropriate’, just cause we want ya nice and close.” Dark eyes harden, “It hurt us, baby. You gotta realise that.”

The grip he has on your hand is painfully tight, but you don’t have a moment to focus on that. Not as Atsumu sweeps forward to close the distance between the two of you, his lips crashing against yours. Hungry. Demanding. A tongue snaking between your lips, melding with your own.

His arm snakes behind you to open the door, and for a moment you’re stumbling backwards into the dark-

Only it’s not dark, not as the blinding fluorescent lights flicker on around you, and you’re not stumbling, not as you collide with a warm, muscular chest and strong arms find your middle to steady you. 

“You took too long,” Bokuto whines, and you’re yanked from Atsumu’s hold and spun, barely having a second to register the gleaming golden eyes before he’s dragging you into a needy kiss of his own.

Dizzy, lightheaded, your heart thumping erratically, you can’t think straight as his hot, wet mouth moves against yours. Greedy fingers grope and squeeze at your body - utterly frozen in shock, pliant under his touch. 

“Aw, quit yer whining, Bokkun,” the blonde growls as Bokuto finally pulls back enough to grant you a few precious gulps of air, gazing at you with a kind of love sick adoration that makes your stomach clench. 

A scoff sounds behind Bokuto, “A bit rich, coming from you, Miya. The two of you just are as bad as each other.”

It’s then that you realise the three of you aren’t alone. Wide eyed, on the edge of hyperventilating, you glance over your shoulder to find two pairs of eyes watching; russet eyes blown wide, enraptured, and swirling black depths, narrowed and glaring over at the blonde. 

Hinata and Sakusa.

It doesn’t feel real. Even with everything they’ve done so far, their possessive behaviour, their smothering affection - even the kisses, it feels like a fever dream. 

Even as Atsumu’s fingers are tugging your jacket off and Bokuto drags you forward, you can’t bring yourself to accept it, to properly fight back against it.

(Not that it would make a difference. They’re professional athletes, and there’s four of them against one of you.)

When your eyes fill with tears, Hinata’s there to brush them away, smiling down at you as he shrugs his own shirt off. “Don’t cry, angel. We’re gonna make you feel amazing, just wait!”

His words don’t fill you with ease. They can’t, not when he has that manic excitement bleeding through his expression - the same one you know he gets when he’s lost in the game, flying across the court like the laws of physics don’t apply to him. 

Hands are on you everywhere, teasing and exploring, too many to keep track of. Your clothes are pulled off, tossed aside and discarded without a second thought, and theirs follow suit. Fingers are tweaking your nipples and palming at your breasts, smoothing over the curve of your ass and trailing between your legs to play with your clit. 

“So fuckin’ pretty, ain’tcha? Our pretty girl, gonna be such a good little cockwhore for us.”

There’s lips against yours, at your neck, trailing down the column of your throat with a pleased hum. And between the kisses, you think that you’re crying, pleading for them to stop and let you go, but nobody listens as you’re manhandled onto one of the benches.

Your legs refuse to obey you, trembling as you try to kick out and wriggle away, only for rough hands to find your hips and drag you back. “C’mon, baby. Be good for us, you’ve already made us wait so long.”

Somebody smacks your ass and you jolt, crying out, only for a hand to soothe over the welt, another squeezing at your hip in a mockery of reassurance. “Don’t make us have to hurt ya, sweetheart.”

It’s easier, you think, to just close your eyes tight and pray that any second now, you’ll wake up in your bed to the blaring of your alarm. But the moment they flutter shut, teeth digging into your bottom lip as fingers dig into your thighs, warm breath ghosting across your sex, a low voice whispers in your ear, “Look at me.”

And you have no choice but to obey, forcing your eyes open to find Sakusa standing to your side, stroking his cock. It’s pretty, you distantly think, and you suppose that it suits him. Well groomed, long but not terribly thick with a slight curve, flushed pink at the tip and glistening with the pre-cum beading at his slit. His other hand comes to rest on your cheek, cupping it with a gentleness that feels out of place, considering the hunger burning in the black depths of his irises. 

He doesn’t say another word as he coaxes your mouth open and guides your head forward to take his cock into your mouth, but the low moan that escapes him as your lips wrap around his length makes you shiver. 

Sakusa isn’t gentle as he fucks your mouth, his thumb stroking your cheek as fresh tears well, but it’s hard to focus on that alone when Hinata’s face disappears between your legs, his tongue laving at your cunt, eager for a taste of you.

It doesn’t take long for the other two to join, and you’re manoeuvred between them, forced to sit on Bokuto’s lap, his thick cock stretching you out while Hinata sits between your legs, diligently slurping at your folds, sucking at your clit, one fist wrapped around his own length, lazily pumping it. Sakusa continues to use your mouth to get himself off, uttering backhanded praise between instructions, hissing in pleasure when he hits the back of your throat and you choke around him, while Atsumu has one hand playing with your tits, the other gripping yours, forcing you to jerk him off. 

It’s too much for your brain to take. 

Your sobs and whimpers, already muffled thanks to the cock in your mouth, are lost to the symphony of grunts and moans, lewd squelching and the sound of skin slapping against skin. There’s too many hands touching you, too much pain fused with unwanted pleasure, overwhelming you as heat and panic and terror build up inside of you, and it feels like there’s an inferno burning beneath your skin, and you can’t breathe and you just want it all to stop, you want to wake up, and-

Suddenly, the door to the locker room snaps open, and all five of you freeze in place as the Captain stops dead in his tracks and eyes the scene before him. 

There’s no possible way for Meian to misconstrue it, not with everything you told him. Not with your face flushed and teary, your eyes glazed over and all but broken from the sick, twisted debasement his teammates have subjected you to. You’re naked, your body littered in love-bites and bruises, spread out before him like a feast.

And still, your eyes meet his, silently pleading for him to say something and stop this.

Meian takes a single step forward and a muffled whine leaves your lips as the cock inside of you twitches insistently. Sakusa draws his hips back, pulling himself free from your mouth, and despite the burn in the back of your throat, you swallow and try to speak.

“Please.” It’s little more than a squeak, hoarse and choked, but it doesn’t seem to make a difference. 

The Captain barely acknowledges that you’ve spoken at all, his attention fixated instead on your body; the way your pussy’s clenching around the base of Bokuto’s length, the tremor of your thighs under Hinata’s rough hands, the way your tits rise and fall with every quickened breath, your lips, swollen and beautifully fucked, glistening with spit before finally, those dark eyes meet yours once more.

And slowly, a grin breaks across his face. “You’d better hurry it up, the others aren’t too far off.”