#and the fact that this game is so hated is unrelated

[parttime-creative]

I have no words to describe the brain chemistry altering feeling of reading "House of leaves" at the same time as playing "Control" for the first time.

It is, however, an experience™

[risingsunresistance]

been getting back into mother 3 after All That and every time i see the sunflower field im like. whoa. that's so neat. i am Not overthinking it !

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[orcelito]

I am also devastated by the small ass fandom of Persona 3, gracious fanfic writers give me my Goro and Ken Half Brothers content PLEASE

Hfskhfnd it's so good!!! I've only rly read one fic with that au but Not Gonna Lie it was uhhh my lead-in to akeshu lmfao.

So like I used to be an akeshu hater, that whole business of "He shot him in the head!! How is that romance!!!" Which like still fair but also it's COMPLICATED and I love the drama. I played royal and grew so much more attached to Akechi, and the boiler room scene happened and I NEEDED to see more of the boy.

I avoided akeshu for the aforementioned reason BUT there was this Ken and akechi siblings au which I practically devoured. This being like September 2020. And it was Great but it Wasn't Enough so I caved and started reading akeshu fic. Realized I Really Liked It. Blazed thru like Everything that fit what I was looking for within a month And Then decided to write my own lol.

THE FIC IN QUESTION.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16933119/chapters/39786447

Is this one lol. Which if you've looked for Ken and akechi siblings content u Probably have seen it. I haven't read any of it since I first read it so idk what's in the recent chapters BUT. It ignited a love for Akechi in me that cannot be denied. Other ppl can totally check it out too.

[empresskylo]

beneath the mask ✩ chapter 7 ⬅ch.6

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | afab!reader. nightmares. wc 3.2k ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | this chapter got me feelin some typa way

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

ghost struggled to come to terms with his feelings towards you. he knew he had grown to like you, but what did that entail exactly? was he interested beyond friendship? and even if he was, he couldn’t act on his desires – a lieutenant can't get himself involved with a subordinate medic. and the fact that you were often on his team meant he was your direct superior half of the time… things could get messy extremely fast. 

he also liked to tell himself that you wanted something he couldn’t offer. a relationship – romantic or platonic – he had an unrelenting habit of closing people out.

so ghost decided he should avoid you. not entirely, that would be impossible , but he had to shake you from his thoughts. he needed time to wipe out the memory of you pressed against him in that closet. of the way your hands felt wrapped around him on his motorcycle. the fear that coursed through him as he watched you run into that burning house. 

he thought of you often, and he fucking hated it . 

he thought back to the day he spoke to you before thinking: “ you’re the one who told me to let people in. ” you had properly scared him when you ran into that flaming building. that’s when he knew he had let you slip into the cracks of his shell without even realizing it. 

i’d sooner kick your ass off my fuckin’ team if it meant keepin’ you safe. from leavin’ me. 

he had immediately regretted the words. he told you he’d kick you off the team if it meant keeping you from getting yourself killed – aka – leaving him. 

he ran a hand down his scarred face as he looked in the bathroom mirror and sighed. he was worried you’d get the wrong idea. granted, he meant exactly what he said, but admitting that to you was a new level of danger simon wasn’t accustomed to. becoming acquainted with his teammates was one thing, but letting you in was a whole different story and he didn’t know why. he didn’t know why he started to crave your presence, ever since he had you bandaging him up after he was shot weeks ago. you had been different… you were still radiating hope. this shithole hadn’t crushed your soul yet. you reminded him a bit of soap. 

he grabbed the sides of the sink and stared at his reflection, disgust rising in his throat. why, of all people, did it have to be you? why couldn’t his cold, dead heart beat for someone outside of this line of work? or even better, for no one at all . 

i’ve neva had a lil’ crush on my lieutenant, actin’ like this is all a big fuckin’ game.

his own words clogged his brain. god, there was no way you’d forgive him for being such an ass. and maybe that was for the best. 

he went over all the reasons he needed to pry you from his thoughts: your relationship would be forbidden; he’d hurt you; you’d probably hurt him; you’re too young for him; he has no fucking idea how to navigate a romantic relationship. all solid reasons to him.

then a stupid, careless thought popped into his head. maybe…maybe he could just get you out of his system… but were you the type of girl who could do sex with no strings attached? simon didn’t want to admit that he’d certainly be the one who’d get attached, so he scratched that off his – lacking – list of options with the rationale being that you’d probably get hung up over him.

all these logical reasons, and he still couldn’t shake you. he was fucked . 

it was late and simon had a meeting with price, a quick debrief on the whole hassan situation. he kept his outfit light, sporting just a long-sleeved black shirt, black sweats, his combat boots, mask, and gun strapped to his hip. most of the barracks would be asleep by now unless soap had somehow convinced gaz to play another round of poker. 

ghost walked the halls, stealthy in the shadows of the flickering fluorescent lights overhead. it was a natural part of his gait now: to blend in and be silent. 

he stretched his arms over his head as he sauntered down the corridors. he heard a strange noise echo down one of the halls and he halted. curious, he changed direction and started to walk down the right corridor towards the sound, hearing the noise more clearly now. it was coming from one of the rooms. 

it sounded like… crying. someone was sobbing and whimpering in distress. 

ghost’s first reaction was that someone was hurt, in trouble, but as he edged towards the door, he realized it sounded more like someone having a night terror. 

he slowly pushed open the door that had already been left slightly ajar, letting the faded light slip into the room, and spotted you on your tiny, smaller-than-a-twin sized bed. he cursed at himself when he realized it was your room he was walking into uninvited.

but that moment of doubt slipped when he heard you begin to cry, whining in your sleep. he made it over to the side of your bed and said your name softly, not sure what else to do. 

when you didn’t respond, he rubbed the back of his neck and tried again. “ come on. wake up .” he attempted to be quiet, he didn’t want anyone to hear him and come snooping about, finding him in your room… at night… in the dark. wanting to prevent that, he quickly went to your bedroom door and shut it before going back to your side whilst muttering curses. his hand came out, softly resting on your shoulder, and he gently shook you. “wake up,” he tried again. 

he clicked on the light by your bedside and felt his heart twinge when he looked back at you. the lamp created a terrible yellow glow, but that didn’t disguise the tears you had streaming down your cheeks. 

he leaned over you, his body getting precariously close to yours, and he gave you a harder nudge. this time,  you finally opened your eyes. the tears continued to pour down your face and you hiccuped a tired sob out. ghost tucked some of your disheveled hair behind your ear on instinct. “ you’re okay ,” he said faintly. 

“ghost…?” he saw your lips quiver as you sat up, realizing you weren't alone in the room, and you reached for him, almost colliding with ghost’s head, wrapping your arms around his neck. he jolted upright a bit in surprise, pulling you with him. his arms hesitated, but after a few moments, they found a spot around your waist like his body was familiar with this. 

he could feel you crying into his neck and his hand on you tightened, pulling you flesh against him. 

“please don’t tell anyone,” you mumbled against him. 

ghost was oblivious to his hands as they began to rub circles on your back. “why would i tell anyone?”

you pulled away, your hands still clasped around his neck, and looked at him. ghost gulped. your eyes were red and teary but that just made them that much more vibrant. you had tear marks down your cheeks and your hair was all over the place. his chest tightened momentarily. he desperately wanted to wipe the tears from your cheeks, but he refrained by tightening his grip on you instead.

your eyes shifted down in embarrassment. “just… will you keep this between us? please.”

it hurt him to think that you either thought so lowly of him to worry that he might use this against you, or because of the fact that you didn’t want anyone to know you were struggling. 

a pang of hurt spread through ghost before quickly subsiding. did you think he was the type of person who would casually gossip? fuck , of course you did. you were probably worried he’d throw this back in your face in the future. he had done nothing but diss out insults and begruding remarks at you since day one. has he ever said a kind word to you? he was trying to remember, but your face so close to him made it hard. 

ghost thought about his own nightmares that plagued him and how he hadn’t told anyone either. he kept it to himself. knowing that feeling, he nodded at you in an unspoken promise: this was between the two of you, and the two of you only. 

you released your arms awkwardly and ghost set you back down so you were sitting on your bed. that's when he realized you were only in a tank top and sleep shorts – skimpy ones at that. he averted his eyes quickly, though he desperately wanted to linger on you. 

“sorry,” you said. ghost couldn’t see, but he figured you’d be blushing. “this is so embarrassing.” you buried your face in your hands. 

“it’s not,” he said finally. 

you looked up at him and gave him a mirthless smile. “it is. i can’t believe i still get nightmares like a kid.”

ghost’s hands slipped into his pockets, unsure of what else to do with them. “i get 'em too.”

you shied away from his gaze. “you don’t have to say that.”

“i wouldn’t lie jus’ t’make you feel better.” he didn’t know why he had to say it like that, but he was relieved when you gave a small laugh, even if it was breathless. 

“yeah, well it seems more appropriate for you.”

he tilted his head in a quizzical manner. 

“ i just mean that you have been in combat… i can’t imagine the horrors you’ve seen… things you’ve done…”

“jus’ cause you haven’t killed people with your own hands, doesn’t mean you can’t have things that haunt you.”

you swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry. your intention wasn’t to get ghost to comfort you – he was probably wishing he had never walked into your room right about now – you were simply embarrassed and wanted to gloss over the situation, but it came off as self-deprecating. it figures he wouldn’t let that slide. 

ghost shifted between his feet. you felt your face warm as he stared down at you sitting cross-legged on your bed. 

ghost opened his mouth to speak but you beat him to it. “would you stay with me?”

oh my god. you waved your hands in front of you frantically. “no, sorry. i don’t know why i said that. i–i’ll just go bother soap. don’t worry about me,” you said all at once as one long slur of words. you can’t believe you just asked your lieutenant that, especially now that he knows about your ‘lil crush’, as he called it. he’d certainly think you were obsessed or reading things wrong. 

to much of your astonishment, ghost gestured his head forward, indicating he wanted you to scoot over. you clumsily did, your shoulder now against the wall. 

the room was small, just one bed with a mattress – the other cot was barren, your roommate situation up in the air at the moment – and there was no chair. he only had one option if he was to stay with you.

a pang of annoyance coursed through ghost. what could johnny do that he couldn’t? he thought to himself in challenge. and so he settled in beside you, his legs stretching across your bed. it was a tight squeeze with his formidable frame and your tiny ass bed.

you felt your whole body heat up, his shoulder against yours as he squeezed into the small space. 

ghost was doing precisely the opposite of what he had just lectured himself on. 

“you don’t have to…i didn’t mean to–”

“jus’ close that mouth of yours and go t’sleep,” he said coolly, though his skin was burning where you leaned against him. 

you were propped up on your pillow and you both laid there in silence. ghost wanted to say something – to tell you he was sorry. to tell you that he is only an ass because he doesn’t know how to control his emotions. but the words evaded him. and that was probably for the best. 

you weren’t sure how you were going to fall asleep with ghost now at your side, keeping you on edge. but after only a few minutes, your eyes grew heavier and fluttered shut against your will, your head lulled against him as sleep overtook you. his presence reminded you that you were safe. 

he felt safe . 

simon cursed under his breath as he felt himself smile when you leaned into him, your body falling into a slumber. he knew better than to allow this. he pushed his mask up slightly to rub his mouth and chin, itching to get away from you, and touch you, all at the same time. 

you woke in the morning, alone in your bed, your blanket tucked around you, and the smell of ghost lingering on your sheets. 

days had gone by and you and ghost had been successful in ignoring one another. 

you stood in the training room, plenty of other soldiers around you, either working out on a machine alone or in pairs. you stood on a training mat and huffed. you had decided to keep practicing your combat skills for the chance that another mission would pop up. you wanted to be prepared. only having the skillset of a medic wasn’t cutting it for you anymore. not after what you went through. what if one of the other men hadn’t been there to save you – i.e. ghost.

you were stretching your arm across your chest when hands wrapped around your waist and lifted you up off the ground. a burst of giggles left you as soap spun you around before plopping you back down. you turned to face him. “can i help you?” you teased. 

“actually, thought maybe i’d help ya train for a lil bit. if ya wanted,” he offered. he wore leisure workout clothes and had already set his water bottle down beside the mat. 

“you don’t have to. i’m sure you’d rather–”

“let me stop you right there, lass. i'm offerin’ because i want to. quit second guessin’ yourself.”

you gave him a faint smile. he was right. soap was always right – but you would never tell him that. it would just get to his head. 

“alright. fine, then.”

he grinned and began to stretch. 

thirty minutes must have gone by and you were drenched in sweat as soap pinned you to the mat time and time again. 

“i thought you woulda improved since last time,” soap teased. 

you playfully rolled your eyes and brushed your hands against your sweats, getting ready to go again. “it’s not my fault! i’m trying!”

“well, whatever percent you’re givin’ it, double that.”

you scoffed but smiled brightly at him. you had been so caught up in the moment, you never noticed when ghost had came into the training room. there were multiple soldiers scattered around, so even if you had been paying attention, you still might not have seen him.

he wore gray sweats today and a tight black shirt. a sight you would have got choked up over.

“arms up,” johnny commanded. 

you listened, setting your hands and arms in the correct position that he had shown you earlier. then soap launched at you, and you tried to dodge his attack, side-stepping swiftly. but soap was lithe and nimble. he hooked his arm around you and pulled you to the ground and you let out a yelp. 

you landed on your back and looked up at soap breathlessly. he was nestled between your legs that were bent at the knee. his hands were on either side of your shoulders. 

“now what’re you gonna do, lass?” he teased. 

you smirked and attempted a move he had demonstrated earlier and that you had used when ghost pinned you in this position. you squeezed your thighs around soap’s waist and tried to roll your body. you felt soap go limp, allowing you to more easily roll him underneath you – if he hadn’t, you likely wouldn’t have had the strength to maneuver him. 

soap smirked as you landed on top of him, straddling his hips and giving him a self-assured, satisfied look. 

“don’t look too cocky. i let you move me.”

you rolled your eyes and huffed. “soap,” you whined. “how am i gonna learn if you do that?”

soap’s hands lingered on your hips, both of you blatantly unaware of how intimate you may have looked right then. 

“you’re half my size, lass. so unless you wanna bulk up, yer never gonna be able to move me.”

you shook your head. he was right. 

“i jus’ want you t’know how to execute the basics for now. know t’motions. don’t worry bout anything else.”

“ugh,” you sighed. “you really had me thinking i could best you.”

soap chuckled, and in a lazy motion, he pushed you off of him so you fell to your side on the mat. “never gonna happen, love.”

you pursed your lips and begrudgingly accepted his hand as he hoisted you up. 

ghost was sat across the gym, leaning on his spread-out knees, twirling a knife in his hand as he watched you and soap. you hadn’t felt it, but his eyes were on the two of you the entire time he was in the training room. there was fire blazing inside ghost as he watched you and soap all over each other.

soap was squeezing his water bottle into his mouth, walking towards ghost. “hey, l.t.” he called. ghost’s eyes flickered away from you – who was currently collecting your things to leave – and looked up at soap. he gave him a grunt as a greeting, but that was all. 

“what’s got your panties in a knot?” johnny asked, scratching his scruff as he eyed which machine to work out on next. 

ghost’s hand clenched his knife, his eyes tracing your figure as you left the gym, completely unaware of his presence. he should talk to you , he thought. things had been left… uncomfortable between the two of you. were you friends? did you still think he hated you? were you actually interested in him? could you forgive him for being a jerk? did he even want you to forgive him? were you still embarrassed about him finding you crying in your room?

ghost stood against his better judgment, wanting to follow you out of the gym, but before he could take his first step, gaz appeared beside you, draping an arm across your shoulders, and walking with you out the door, both of you laughing at something he said. 

“fuckin’ hell,” ghost muttered to himself. he slid his knife aggressively into it’s sheath above his sweats and decided to take his frustration out the only way he knew how: overworking his body. 

johnny watched as simon approached some equipment and jumped up to the pull-up bar and began heaving himself up and down with what looked like he was exerting no effort at all. the way he was going at it so hard made johnny wonder if he was okay. 

“ghost,” soap called.

“leave it, soap,” simon replied with a grunt, wanting to drown his inability to digest his own emotions in a workout. he’d rather clear his mind with needless violence, but this would have to do for now.

chapter 8 ➡

[tumblingxelian]

Near Uniquely RWBY - Main Characters

I was chatting with my sibling the other day and we were joking about the fact in 90% of the media I consume I generally don't like the main characters.

Not in the sense I necessarily hate them, but I generally don't find them to be the most interesting, engaging or enjoyable person on screen or page. Instead I tend to gravitate towards secondary or minor characters and even minor antagonists before any of the big names.

Some of this is rooted in my often rooting for what tends to feel more like a real underdog or characters that feel like they got dealt a bad hand by the author unfairly. But its also that in a lot of media the main characters tend to immediately, slowly or quickly go into personality lockdown.

Becoming less a personality and more the embodiment of expected tropes and themes, or they lose their unique edge or circumstances because the plot demands one benefits or personality changes be heaped on them to keep the tone and story going.

Some examples of this would include say:

Ichigo from Bleach, with him and his supporting cast being very unique and super interesting during the initial arc. But as Soul Society came in, he became a much more standard Shounen determinator a the expense of his personality and his supporting casts were largely watered down & left behind.

Or how in Naruto or Dragon Ball the whole underdog/hard worker aspect of the characters felt undercut by legacy power ups and an endless wellspring of natural talent, alien biology, ETC.

I know these are just two examples, but they cover the general gist of what I mean.

So, what makes RWBY different?

Well, off the cuff, is simply that the four main characters are women.

I've often felt simply putting anyone other than a cis-het guy into the main character slot of say, a battle Shounen, or Isekai stands a good chance of making it more interesting by default. Even if the author does nothing with it the audience reaction would be different because the MC would be an exception to the norms.

In that vein, while one can call RWBY some sort of Shounen or adventure fantasy or magical girl show the main four are unique in how they manifest on screen at the very start. From how they participate in action, to how said action is structured and framed and the kind of adventures and topics they tackle.

But being unique alone is not enough, that would simply make it more interesting than the bog standard but what elevates RWBY is the execution and exploration of such elements and its characters.

Going into every aspect would be difficult, but in light of what I said above would be how each of the main four are initially presented as familiar archetypes, only to subvert or deconstruct them.

Ruby is a peppy goth who just wants to be normal but has inborn powers from her mysteriously vanished mother and serves as a beacon of optimism to others.

Except Ruby's version of normal still involved fighting death monsters with a sniper rifle scythe and she is actually one of the more ruthless characters. Her peppy persona obscures that she can have a pretty vicious temper when pushed and has displayed strong bloodknight tendencies.

Her unrelenting optimism and desire to fix the world is a complex mix of true beliefs, coping mechanism for trauma and her grappling with positions forced on her against her will. Her inborn power is potentially useful but also not that much of a game breaker outside specific contexts & said power sure as hell didn't save her mom.

Weiss Schnee is the Tsundere heiress of a powerful family, with a haughty attitude that hides her loneliness.

Except the "Tsundere" is more of a defense mechanism born of coming from an abusive home where every member of her family manifested a different trauma response. Freeze (Mother), flight (Sister), Fight (Weiss) Fawn (Brother).

Despite her upbringing & some projected trauma, she's far from ignorant as to the worst excesses of her nation early on, and her journey was more about overcoming the impacts her abuser had on her and finding a family in her team that let her be safe enough to let down her walls. Also despite being "The ice queen" she's actually one of the characters least inclined towards more ruthless actions and is extremely empathic.

Blake Belladonna is a mysterious and silent rougish woman, something of a shrinking violet even, but she carries with her a wounded heart thanks to her old flame, the edgy Adam Taurus.

Or more accurately, Blake is the daughter of activists and politicians who represent the worlds main discriminated against minority. She spent her youth on the road as a protestor and where even her father could be nearly killed by a lynch mob. She was targeted & groomed by a man who claimed to want to fight the same injustice she did but who was only interested in using the movement to grow his own power.

Her initial aloof-ness was a trauma response to having spent years under his thumb and overcoming him and the idea she had to 'save' him was one of the main corner stone so her character. Also, despite the "Revolutionary fighter" backstory she like Weiss is much less inclined towards ruthlessness than her team in large part because her past experience with it.

Yang Xiao Long, introduced as the fun loving big sister of Ruby & boisterous bruiser of the team who loves to party & flirt.

Except no, Yang was parentified as a child and forced to raise her own sister as their family unit fell apart. Her "Party girl" persona was outright framed as judging a book by its cover in her own trailer and something she put on or took off as she needed.

She became disabled over the course of the series run as well as entered a Sapphic romance with her partner Blake. Unlike the stereotype of characters with her design, Yang is actually an excellent student, fighter and engineer/mechanic. Plus much like her sister she tends to be of the more ruthless and pragmatic persuasion despite being from the "Normal" background.

Character Conclusion

So, all the characters break out of their initial archetypes, which already makes them more interesting. What's more, these sorts of characters just being oput together and made the main characters rather than circling a dude is in of itself unique.

But there are other aspects of the writing which endear me to how it handles the main characters and what keeps them interesting.

Anger & Violence

See, while in various media women do express anger at times it is still often far less so than men. What's more, often women's anger tends to be presented in... Less flattering lights.

With the anger obscuring fragility while in a man it conveys strength. Or implying a sort of hysteria rather than an appropriate or controlled response. Or worst of all being demonized in general unless its rooted in or coming from traditionally feminine places.

The same tends to be true when it comes to violence with a lot of media either trying to find some way to make women in battle less... Brutal than their male counterparts. (More more like fanservice) Along with rarely letting women fight men, unless they are a special exception to the norm.

RWBY does not do this.

The main characters, hell, all the women in the series express a multitude of different forms of anger and violence. They battle men, they battle each other, they battle monsters all with no distinction nor fanservice shot in sight.

What's more though is that said anger and violence are not presented as, for lack of better words, wrong. The writers don't draw overt attention to this fact, they don't hang a big sign up saying "Girls can fight & shout too" or the like.

They just present these women with a range of emotions, motives and actions that are treated according to what fits the theme of the show rather than hewing closer to gendered lines.

This isn't to say anger & violence are lionized, but more that the experience and usage of them is not demonized or undermined because of the characters gender.

I suppose what I am saying is that CRWBY by and large lack double standards when it comes to exploring these things that I see so often in other media. The women in the main cast, among the villains, both sides respective allies and beyond can be flawed, or angry or do both good and terrible things.

But the writers are always treating everyone's pain as equally valid regardless of gender or situation. Which means that the situations that cause anger exist within a tone of respect that forms the depiction and framing of anger itself.

Which is just something I really enjoy.

Thanks for reading!

[55sturn]

✮ I WAS BLIND TO SEE

pairing: chris sturniolo × female!reader

synopsis: in which y/n spent years begging chris to let her into his heart, but he was unrelenting, so eventually she gave up. but after years of her pining helplessly, chris realizes that he grew to love her back and races against the clock to get her back.

warnings: swearing, lowkey toxic!chris, angst for like majority of the fic, oblivious!reader, oblivious!chris, mentions of alcohol, justin’s lowkey a dick, chris is a literal fucking dumbass, i love the whole “idiots in love” trope.

THIRD PERSON POV

it was no shocker to find out how deep y/n's love for chris ran, after all she had been in love with him since they were sophmores in high school. she loved every single thing there was to love about him, and the less lovable things, she understood where they stemmed from.

she had a very deep connection with him, they had been the closet out of him, his brothers, and her. he could turn to her for anything, and vice versa. however, there was one issue.

chris didn't reciprocate the love she felt. he expressed numerous times to anyone who asked, that she was his best friend, nothing more. he saw her as the female extension of him and his brothers.

the only person he couldn't tell that to though, was her. so instead of letting her down easy, he ignored it. and that caused more problems than he saw coming. because of his naturally flirty nature, it filled the girl with false hope, it led her to believe that maybe her feelings were returned.

no one was able prepare for the inevitable fallout that occurred when chris' feelings, or lack thereof, came to light.

FLASHBACK

chris was sitting at his desk when nick knocked on his door, he welcomed him into his room with a barely discernible "come in."

"chris we gotta talk." nick muttered, standing in the doorway with his arms folded and a frustrated look on his face.

"what's up?" chris sighed, rolling his eyes as he turned in his gaming chair to face the older triplet.

"you need to tell y/n about the way you feel, well the way you don't feel."

"why? it's not like i'm hurting her." chris scoffed, not really wanting to break his best friend's heart.

"chris, she literally just spent an hour talking to me on facetime about how she wants to confess her feelings to you directly because instead of being honest, you're playing into her feelings! i can't keep giving her advice and getting her hopes up knowing that you are just going to crush her."

"whatever nick, i'll talk to her later."

and so, when y/n came by later that day, she gathered the nerve to tell chris with a shaky breath and unsteady hands.

"chris can we talk?"

"yeah what's up?" chris hummed, knowing very well where this was going, and despite the fact that he was just about to break her heart, he felt some sort of twisted pride stir in his chest. he liked knowing that someone so close to him was pining for him, it made him feel powerful, and he hated that it made him feel that way. it truly disgusted him.

"i know this probably isn't a secret by any means but i've got feelings for you. like 'i'm in love with you' feelings and i don't know if i've been reading into things too much or if i've read into them correctly but it seems like you return them, or at least act like you do and if that's the case, i'm glad i told you. and if i've read them completely wrong, i'm about to feel like the biggest fool possible." y/n rambled, breathing out a nervous laugh as chris' eyes bore into hers.

"listen y/n, you're a great girl. any guy would be lucky to be loved by you the way you love me but i'm sorry, i don't see you that way. i know i've fed into your feelings and your flirting, and it makes me feel like such a jackass but i didn't know how to tell you and i really didn't want to break your heart. you're my best friend and i would give anything to return your feelings but i don't and it wouldn't be fair for me to pretend i do." chris whispered, his heart tearing in two as he watched the hurt and horror flash in her eyes as she realized that she had read everything wrong. his arms slowly slid around her shoulders, pulling in her into him, or at least in attempt to.

"no. you don't get to hug me after you just admitted that you played with my feelings. you literally just contradicted yourself, the fuck do you mean 'it wouldn't be fair to pretend to return your feelings." that's exactly what you did! god this was a mistake." she spat, turning on her heels and making her way up the stairs leading from chris' room. she grabbed her jacket off the back of one of the dining room chairs and left without so much as a word.

and that was the last that chris had heard from her until they ended up back in boston at the same time.

FLASHBACK OVER

y/n sighed as she made her up the sturniolos' driveway. her family had agreed to a huge family dinner with the triplets' family and she was dreading having to see chris. she was on perfectly fine terms with nick and matt, they had actually grown closer. y/n just refused to be an active presence and figure in chris' life. whenever she wanted to hang out, it’d be away from their house. away from chris.

knocking on the door, a small smile pulled at her lips. she missed mary-lou and jimmy, she hadn't had much time to see them since going back home, she had just been busy with other things, and the fact that she was slightly avoiding them because she had a feeling chris or one of his brothers told them about what had happened.

"y/n! my sweet girl i've missed you." mary-lou cooed as she opened the door, pulling her into a tight embrace.

"i've missed you too, i'm sorry i haven't come by yet, i've been busy." the girl pouted slightly, feelings guilty for staying away for as long as she had.

"busy ignoring a certain boy of mine?" the older woman teased gently, being fully aware of what had gone down and her heart hurt for the young girl. she knew what chris felt, she could see in his eyes when he spoke about his former best friend, a mother always knows. she also knows that chris just hasn't been made aware of the fact that he feels the same as y/n once did.

as mary-lou led y/n up the stairs and into the dining room where the sturniolos' and y/n's parents sat, y/n felt her chest grow tight as all eyes, including chris' fell on her.

"hey everyone, sorry i'm late." she laughed, returning the hug that jimmy pulled her into as he stood up.

"don't worry about it, we're just glad you showed up." jim smiled down at her as she took her place between justin and her mother, unfortunately across from chris.

chris' forced his gaze to his lap as he fiddled with his fingers, ever since the night he turned her down, a strange feeling had been stirring and beating relentlessly in the pit of his stomach, he almost felt like he had made a mistake rejecting her.

as the dinner went on, chris was determined to meet her gaze but she was just as determined to not look at him, in fear that she would crumple into a sobbing wreck. she tried to move on but it was hard when he had already held her heart for so long. she feared that she would never love someone the way she loved and still deep down, loves him.

after the dinner had finished, the adults gathered in the living room, talking about shit their kids didn't care about or had heard a million times already, so the rest of them moved to the deck, all claiming a chair as their own while justin grabbed a beer for all of them.

"so mousey, whatcha been up to, like really? seeing anybody?" justin hums, watching the twenty year old girl that he considered his baby sister shift awkwardly in her chair.

"quit calling me that." y/n groans, rolling her eyes at the nickname that justin had given her back when she was in elementary school, she was so quiet compared to his brothers that he referred to her as a mouse which led to him branding her "mousey."

"and before you ask again, i've seen a couple guys here and there but nothing really stuck.” she sighs, taking a sip of her beer as justin lods, kissing his teeth with a teasing smirk on his face.

“what about you chris?”

“justin don’t.” chris warns, glaring at his older brother as he sees through justin’s plan. justin is fully convinced that chris is in love with y/n, someone just has to spell it out for him. matt and nick both look at each other with wide eyes as they clue into what justin is trying to do.

y/n scoffs, sliding her beer across the table with a roll of her eyes before she stands up,

“you’re a dick.”

“y/n wait.” chris calls out, jogging after as she makes her away around the house to her car, shaking her head as she walks away.

“what do you want chris?” she sighs, turning to face him and look at him, really look at him for the first time that night.

“i’m sorry about justin, he’s convinced that i’m running from my feelings or some shit and he’s trying to make me see that.”

“that’s nice chris. you know, i came here tonight thinking that it’’d be easy to see you after how many months but no, it’s been just as hard as the night you broke my heart. it’s hard because i miss you, so fucking much but i can’t get over you. and i can’t get over you hurting me, whether you meant to or not.”

“i miss you too, y/n. come back please.” chris whispers, a glimmer of hope in his eyes as he stares at the girl he called his best friend.

“no. i don’t think you do. you miss the me that would follow you around like a lost puppy and feed your ego with all the attention i gave you. you miss the love i gave you because you didn’t have to search anywhere else for it. i was some sort of fall back for you. and if i stuck around after you broke my heart to hear you say that you loved me, knowing it wasn’t the same way that i love you, it would’ve killed me chris.”

“i’m sorry, i really am. i just miss my best friend.”

“i stopped being your best friend long before i confessed my feelings to you.” she whispers, the raw emotion she felt as she recounted how things changed evident in her voice, lea chris confused by what she meant.

“what?”

“you stopped seeing me as your best friend quite a while ago. you started seeing me as this your could always count on to boost your ego, to fill your head with this idea that you were a god, that you were the center of my universe. you stopped treating me like your best friend and started treating me like i was a fucking groupie, chris. you stopped remembering important things i told you about myself, you got me a copy of a book that i couldn’t stand, that you knew i couldn’t stand because when i first told you about, you laughed at how insane i sounded. and you said it was for my birthday, but my birthday was three weeks before that. you started only paying attention to things i said that made you feel good, and i thought that if i’d dismiss it and pretend that it wasn’t happening, that it’d go away. i figured you were just sorting out your feelings. but no, you were playing me.”

“that’s not tr-“

“yes it is. i excused it by convincing myself you were busy. that you were stressed. but in reality, you stopped giving a fuck about me and only gave a fuck about the attention i paid you, and now that it’s gone, you feel lost and helpless. so no, you don’t miss me.” she replies, her voice slowly becoming void of all emotion, as if she had accepted what had happened and moved to face her car, before turning back to him.

“for what it’s worth, i miss my best friend too, but when i look at you now, i don’t see him. i see a person who looks like him, but is completely different. and justin is right, you’re running from your feelings but i don’t think they’re feelings for me. i love you, always have, always will. i wish i could say that you love me too, but i don’t think you do.”

chris watches her car back out of the driveway and speed down the street with his heart in his hands, forced to grapple with just how badly he hurt her.

months had passed and chris was still completely shut out of y/n’s life, and it left a bitter and extremely hard pill for chris to swallow. he knew he fucked up and he knew asking her for forgiveness was an insane ask but he missed her.

and not the attention she gave him. he missed her. her warmth, the fuzzy feeling in his chest that she gave him when he’d crack a joke and look around to see if she found it funny. he missed the way he could non-verbally communicate with her the way he can with his brothers. all he’d have to do is send her a look and she’d know what he was thinking. he missed her hugs and the way she could comfort him in a split second. he missed the person that knew him better than he knew himself, and he missed the girl that he knew better than anyone.

everyone around chris knew what was happening, they saw it in the way he’d sulk whenever nick mentioned some guy she was trying to date. or the way his eyes would soften at the mention of her and matt hanging out before his face would fall when matt says they’re going out to some random place to hang out. in the way chris’ eyes would brighten when he saw something that reminded him of her or her favourite movie showed up on the netflix previews.

everyone around chris knew that he wasn’t just homesick for his favourite person, he was lovesick too. they could see the gears turning in his head and heart, that he was slowly starting to openly show his love for her, the same love she felt for him. chris was guarded and haunted by girls that have hurt him, they knew he closed off his heart to anything but familial and platonic love, so when genuine, deep romantic feelings started blooming in his chest like the flowers in spring, he didn’t know what they were. he always thought it was platonic love for his best friend, but everyone could see it was more.

everyone but chris. until the day he saw his feelings for what they really were.

FLASHBACK

chris walked upstairs, halting halfway up to text his friend back as he half listened to nick and matt’s shared conversation, not really care until he hears a sentence that left a sour taste in his mouth.

“y/n wants to ask brendon to be her boyfriend. she thinks it could go well.”

“is she over chris?”

“not really but she wants to try and move on.”

chris rolled his eyes and stomped up the rest of the stairs, not understanding why there was such an angry feeling building in his chest like a fire rapidly consuming everything in its wake.

throughout the day, chris let his anger consume his every action, his every response, every single reaction he has to anything. it was pissing his brothers off because they had no clue why he was angry. until nick pieced it together.

“you heard our conversation about y/n didn’t you? that’s when you started acting a like a dick to everyone and everything.”

“whatever nick it doesn’t matter.”

“you’re fucking jealous, aren’t you?”

“who gives a fuck if i am?”

“why are you jealous if you don’t see her that way?” nick pressed, a smug grin on his face as he pushed the youngest triplet, itching to get the long awaited confession out of chris.

“i’m not jealous.”

“right because if you were, that would mean you actually feel the same way y/n does. which would also mean that literally everyone else in the world was right about you from the fucking get-go.” matt snickered, finding joy in teasing chris for being a complete and utter dumbass for so long.

“oh my god, you’re right. is that what you wanna hear? that i’ve been a complete jackass to her for no reason? that i do feel the same and that everyone is right? that i have no reason to feel the way i do at the thought of her being with another guy? cause if so, there you fucking go.” chris snapped, yelling and cursing out his brothers with misplaced anger.

matt just laughed as he quickly merged into the turning lane, taking chris to y/n’s apartment.

“you know what you need to do.”

FLASHBACK OVER

chris sighs as he raises his fist to the door, his entire body vibrating. his nerves were on fire, he had absolutely no clue how to go about what he was about to do. he didn’t even know if it was a good idea.

as he drops his fist back to his side, the door opens, travelling y/n standing on the other side, her hair tucked beneath her hoodie, the one that chris had gotten her gotten the prior year for christmas because the colour looked pretty on her. chris felt his breath get stuck in his throat and his heart rate quicken as he met her eyes.

“chris what the fuck are you doing here?”

“i know you think i don’t love you.” chris starts, pushing his way into her apartment as she watches him, confused etched along her features as her brows knit together.

“okay, and?”

“and i know you think i stopped paying attention to you. but you’re wrong. you are all i think about, every second of every fucking day, you are running through my mind on a loop. i only ever think about the way you love cheesy chick flicks but will never say it out loud because you don’t want to be made fun of or the way you hate when people dog-ear the pages in their books because it ruins the quality. i only ever think about how much you miss boston in the summer because it’s the perfect temperature, but you hate it in the winter because you hate snow. or how you stop to pet every animal you see just so they know what it’s like to feel a loving touch. or how you refuse to wear anything in your favourite colour because you’re scared of attaching bad memories to it and hating the colour because it’s been your favourite since you were seven. or how feel bad when you don’t give the squishmallows on your bed equal attention because you believe they can feel things. or the fact that your favourite movie is coraline because you relate her deeply but will never your mom that in fear of breaking her heart. or the fact you never once deserved to be treated the way you were by me because i couldn’t see my feelings for what they were.” chris rambles, taking a deep breath as he looks at her, her mouth open as she prepares to speak but chris cuts her off,

“i know that you won’t be able to believe me right away, but i want to prove to you that i love you. it took me a long time to realize it because i’m a fucking idiot. i always have been but this love has been here since the moment i met you, i just confused it for something platonic when it was and is so much more than that. so please hear me out and don’t ask that guy to be your boyfriend, ask me. i want to be the one to love you for the rest of your life. i know i’ve fucked up, i will spend forever and a day trying to make up for it. i know i’m late but please, just give me one more chance.”

“okay.” she whispers, her eyes watering as she finally gets to hear everything she’s ever wanted chris to say. chris smiles, looping his fingers in the edges of hoodie pocket as he tugs her forward, pressing his lips to her so feverishly that he’s sure his lips will bruise but he’s scared to waste another moment, that when he opens his eyes this will all just be some sick and twisted dream. but when he pulls away and opens his eyes, he’s met with the reality that she’s there, her hands cradling his face as she wipes away the tears he didn’t even know existed before pressing another kiss to his lips.

“i’ve always been right in front of you chris, i’m just glad you finally opened your eyes.”

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[uzurimisery]

chapter 2: the players. / coriolanus snow / nsfw

you can't tell me he wouldn't feel so pathetic for wanting you, for needing you. he'd always try and act like he didn't but when he jacked off it was always to thoughts of you.

wc: 6209

warnings: rough sex, male masturbation, hes a perv, not beta read

AO3 version | Series Master

Power and control were paramount to Coriolanus. The feeling of dominance, the ability to command respect, obedience, and even better fear, was a drug to him. It was need that drove him, an insatiable hunger for snow to always land on top.

In his eyes, the world was a game, and he was the key player. Moving and manoeuvring his pieces with calculated actions. The thrill of orchestrating every situation to his benefit pushing him further and further.

That need for control, for dominance, layered over fear and paranoia. He needed to be on top or every carefully crafted interaction he had ever had would be worthless. He’d be worthless. And he was not worthless.

It was so stupid how he lost composure from your naked form. They shaped you like sin, meant for bearing child after child. The swell of your breast suited for a babe attached to it rather than covered in fabrics. He could rut into you like an animal, just like those District filth did, and you could take it. Gnashing teeth, tearing skin, digging into your hips with every thrust. You were so fragile the night of the Gala, so soft, so breakable and by god did he want to break you. Make you pay for this vile feeling he had towards you now.

Maybe he’d even leave you with a child so you’d have a constant reminder of what he could do to you. He needed something to solve the thoughts that have been plaguing him.

For now, he had to keep dealing with this awful lunch with his former classmates and how all they wanted to do was talk about the current ongoing of high society. Idiots. Their conversations rang in his ears like nails on a chalkboard.

“Coriolanus, you never told us how you and the young Miss Gaul came to be together. I could have sworn you told us once that you hated her.”

What he wouldn’t give to take the glass in his hand and break it over Gaius Breen’s thick head. Maybe he’d finally shut up after that with half the glass lodged into his skull and the rest raining down around him. Blood pooling in his eyes as he stammered in confusion.

A shame he couldn’t. Still forced to contend with idiots.

Coriolanus responded with a disarming smile and soft chuckle, voice painting him as love struck. “You’re right Gaius,” he wanted to gag. “I said that once. Y/N and I, as you all know, constantly batted heads. She’s head-strong, never wanting to back down from a challenge. I don’t know when things changed between us, maybe when we were working on the 15th games, all those late nights in the lab.”

He trailed off.

“I started seeing her in a different light with all that forced proximity. Her mind is amazing, as is her wit. Ever since then, I’ve found myself drawn to her in a way I never thought possible.”

Lying was easy for him, but the shocking fact is that the last thing he said was true.

His words silenced the table for a second. The group was accustomed to his disdain of you, always one to be the first to find fault in your person. You were so far from his regular type.

“She’s rather big for you, isn’t she?” Didi Ring pointed out, malice hardly hidden. Clearly still bitter about being rejected by him in the past.

His smile faltered for a second, a flicked of anger flashing in his eyes. Nothing lingering around that anyone would notice.

“She is unlike anyone I’ve ever been with.” Despite his calm tone, his words were edged with venom. “Much appreciated difference to the delicate waifs I’m used to.”

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, bringing up an unrelated topic to move the conversation along.

Coriolanus relished her discomfort, enjoying the way he made her squirm. The master puppeteer pulling the strings. Each time the group came back around to talking about him, there’d be more questions about you, and he continued to tell the intricate tale of your relationship with him. Each part building you both us as the most in love couple in the Capitol.

Each word tasted like ash on his tongue. The whole luncheon only furthering the turmoil inside him.

He needed to sort his head quickly.

___________

Part of him wondered if what he said could change what the future looked like for the two of you. If he admitted that despite his dislike of your personality, he found the idea of taking you highly appealing. Consuming you, ruining you, making you high on lust. Would you let him? Or would you slap him in the face, scream and kick at him, call him names?

Both options appealed to him. You willingly lowered yourself to be on your knees in front of him, staring doe eyed while he fucked your mouth. But your fighting back excited him more. Pinning you down as you spat at him. A slap to your face when he tired of watching you struggle. To pull your mouth wide and force himself in. Maybe a mix of the two would be the best outcome.

This was clearly not sorting his head out. It was your fault.

The Capitol was unbearably hot today, almost oppressively so, now being three months from when your “relationship” started. He had nearly sweated through his undershirt at the luncheon. He was looking forward to getting into his private lab and getting his mind off everything. To realign with the cruel nature of himself.

As he stepped into the sterile, super cooled environment, the machines whirred, comforting him. It was his sanctuary. A place he controlled.

But you had to be there. Strolling out of your mother’s office in a high neck sleeveless dress that went down to your mid thigh. There were two slits on each side, showing off the expanse of your upper thighs. The cut was below being near any territory that ruined your modesty but was still provocative. When you turned to speak to an assistant, Snow realised the dress was backless as well. Only an intricate chain drew a line down the centre of your back, following your spine, securing the halter neck to the back of the dress. All a challenge to his self control.

He wanted to reach out, grab you by the neck, and press his front into your backside. Feel the warmth of your skin. He wanted to strip away your stature, and better yet, strip your clothes off. But he held himself back, his hands clenched into fists at his side. He still had to pay the part of a gentle lover.

Coriolanus walked up behind you, his footsteps echoing softly on the polished marble. He approached your side, movement purposeful, like a predator stalking its prey.

“Darling,” his hand slipped to the bare skin of your back. “I didn’t know you were going to be in today.” He kissed the top of your head, a display of his ownership of you. Even if you weren’t paper thin like his usual type, you still were small compared to his frame.

“Well, hello there! I was only stopping to drop something off for my mother. Tretonius asked me a question about something.”

“Oh, what about?”

Tretonious began explaining the situation to Coriolanus. Your eyes light up the whole time, animatedly talking through solutions and ideas with the assistant. Your voice was airy and carefree. You even shifted and leaned further into his touch.

Coriolanus, however, was barely listening. Lost in the sensation of your skin under his fingertips. Touching you made his mind go blank. All his plans put on pause and thought of you taking centre stage.

Goosebumps rose where his hand left.

God, you were so different from his usual type. You had sustenance, meat to you. Even strength, as much as a Capitol woman could have. But the draw he felt toward you guided him like the stars did to a lost man. He needed to touch you. To know that he influences you.

He had done leaps of faith for love before and never would he do it again. But he didn’t love you. Love was nothing but a weakness meant for fools. A mistake like that would never be made again.

As he watched you, heart pounding, the dangerous tightrope he was walking kept getting smaller. Teetering on the edge of the precipice, tempted to find salvation for his misdoings between your legs. The balance needed to be found, but god knows if he could do it.

“Thank you for your input, Miss Gaul. I’ll run the simulation with those parameters and inform you of the result.”

Ah yes, work. He was at work.

“Of course. I’m glad I could be of help to you.” You smiled widely, showing your perfect little teeth. Your lips coated in a peachy gloss with some glitter in it. The fluorescent lights of the lab making each particle sparkle.

He should sew your mouth shut and never let another person see your smile. He knew Tretonius was gay and had been married for the past five years, but he didn’t care.

“Walk me out Corio?”

“Of course, darling.”

The walk of you leaving the building was a blur in his mind. You had latched onto his arm as you walked, your chest pushed firmly against it. He didn’t know if it was the heat or your usual habit, but you were clearly braless. He could feel the pebbling of your nipples from the inhospitable environment of the lab. Wondering what they looked like, as he hadn’t seen them before. The sensation of them rubbing against his arm as you walked, sending jolts to his groin. You were intoxicating to him.

He hoped that the feeling would go away and his head would clear once you left the building.

But your presence lingered, a ghost in the laboratory, a reminder of the raw, untamed emotions he had so long suppressed. He couldn’t escape you, your presence would continue to haunt him, even in the privacy of his private lab.

His trousers were tight. You lecherous wench had reduced him to this.

He paced the room, his mind a storm of conflicting desires. One part of him craved the release of physical pleasure, the momentary escape from his emotions. Another part of him resisted, his pride too great to admit just the effect you had on him.

The tension was unbearable, the seam of his trousers rubbing against the head of his penis. The physical ache demanded his attention. With a hiss, he undid the clasp and pulled himself free. He was so hard he felt his head pounding. Even pulling his dick out made him groan.

Debased and depraved, he spat into his hand and tugged himself from base to tip. He thumbed at the slit on the tip, making him even more sensitive. A shudder ran down his spine.

He could picture you barging into his lab, like you had done so many times before, only this time, his cock would be out and on full display. You’d be so shocked, so embarrassed. Stuttering on your apologies and moving to close the door. He’d tell you to wait, he can get himself in order. Looking away while he half-heartedly tucked himself back in, unaware that he was already in front of you, pulling you into the room and locking the door behind you.

You’d get mad at him. Question his intentions. He would back you up against his desk, the ornately carved mahogany stopping just below your ass, forcing you to sit on it. You’d be so worked up, mouth running miles a minute as he grabbed your face and forced you to shut up. He wouldn’t be gentle while kissing you. It was about dominance and control.

One hand would squeeze your neck, cutting off just enough blood flow to make you lightheaded, while the other parted your legs and put his hips between yours, pushing your core against his erection.

You looked so cute when you were mad at him. He wondered how mad at him you’d be when he flipped you onto your back and pinned your hands behind you. Slipping off his belt, he’d secure them, leaving you unable to move. Then he’d flip up your little white dress and strike your ass. You never listened to him, but maybe you would respond to corporal punishment. He’d be hard with each strike, aiming to leave the outline of his hand with each hit.

He’d only stop when your cheeks were cherry red and tears ran down your face. He would be so glad they soundproofed all the private labs as you cried and cried about how mean he was being, how you didn’t understand what was going on. But you’d listen to him, do what he said.

After that, he’d slide your panties down, no doubt covered in sticky, heady wetness. You always struck him as the type to enjoy a heavy hand. He’d slip a finger inside you, testing the waters, before forcing a second one in. Scissoring your pussy, loosening it up for him, he’d tell you just how much he hated that you made him feel this way, pulling out to pinch at your clit. He’d bet the Plinth family fortune you’d squeal, and he’d watch your hole flutter around nothing.

Fuck, he had to know how you tasted.

He’d get down on his knees and push his tongue into you, familiarising himself with your taste, your scent. Then he’d slide down and circle his tongue on your clit. Sucking and pulling on it all while he slipped more fingers into your pussy.

He groaned, feeling himself come close.

He’d make you cum, at least three times analysing the best way to make it happen, before he finally stuffed you with his cock. His male friends had always said they enjoyed when their girls said it hurt, but he didn’t want it to hurt you. He wanted it to feel so good, drive you to the edge of insanity, and ruin you for anyone else. He’d make sure to take you to the edge and over it so many times.

By the time he’d finally cum inside you, you’d be a babbling mess. You’d even thank him for cumming inside you once he told you to. Then he’d pull out, tap his dick on your overly sensitive clit. You’d jump. All your muscles contracting as you tried to catch your breath and steady your mind.

Before anything could leak out of you, he’d take your panties and stuff them in you, making a neat little plug to keep his seed inside you. You’d still be so out of it, you’d moan when he did it too. He’d grab your jaw and spit into your mouth and you would smile while he did it.

His fantasies betrayed what he truly thought about you as he jerked himself off to completion in his lab after just a few minutes of harmlessly touching you. He came hot and heavy on his stomach, glad that at one point he had pulled his shirt up and was holding it by his teeth.

He had a mess to clean up, and this was not helping clear his head.

_________

You and Coriolanus had been asked to figure out a new pod for the upcoming games. Normally the process was a rough one, the two of you always clashing. But since the two of you had spent so much time together in the past six months playing your parts as lovers, and also working, you were more amicable with him.

Sometimes you even sought him out, valuing his mind and approach to design and solving problems. He was good at making the games. You really understood why your mother favoured him as her successor. You would be a great second hand for him one day in the future.

He had even become nicer to you recently. You could laugh and joke around with him if the mood was right. You found genuine camaraderie with him.

The transformation in your dynamic was a welcome change. You both spent so much time together. It was nice to have a solid relationship with him. The lines of where the act started and you began to feel harder to define. Perhaps the act just laid the foundation for a genuine friendship with him.

It was also complicated.

Coriolanus has always been attractive to you. His high cheekbones, pretty blue eyes, and soft blonde hair. He had only gotten more attractive as you both aged. Now at 26 he had filled out, some of his sharp-angles becoming defined muscle. He was tall too, with long slender legs. He was undeniably appealing.

The physical attraction, coupled with the new emotional bond, made a sticky mess of your feelings. It didn’t help that nearly everyday he would kiss and dote on you. The parts of yourself you never liked to admit relished the feeling of his hands on you, the brush of his lips against your own.

On the one hand, something real with him wouldn’t be the worst thing. You had similar views and came from similar backgrounds. HIs intelligence would keep you from ever getting bored in your relationship. It was clear that over time he’d even grown to value and respect your insight, as you did his.

On the other hand, the bubbling attraction you felt towards him complicated everything. You couldn’t help but fantasise about him in your private moments. You had caught him shirtless one day, trousers hung loose and unbuttoned as he got dressed. It was that day you had learned under his button ups and blazers his frame was well built. And that he had a very sizable member. Not super surprising since he was 6’4”.

Sometimes you caught him staring at you, eyes trailing up and down your form. He always thought he was so sly with it. Likely, the surrounding people didn’t notice, but you always did.

The initial stares were subtle, quick flicks to your chest and ass. Always when you wore anything form fitting or that showed more skin. You expected it to be honest. Men always are looking at your assets rather than your person. But things changed.

Now you could catch him staring at you from across the room, be it public or private. His eyes were always tracing the contours of your face, watching your every expression. You first had caught it at an event where someone told you a joke that made you throw your head back in laughter. It was like he was trying to memorise every detail or you and what each emotion looked like.

His body language also changed. It was more intimate. The distance between you is closer when you speak. His shoulders relaxed. He’d brush his fingers against you when motioning to things, not afraid to touch you anymore, even casually.

His smile, usually plastered on like a mask, became genuine when you were alone, laughter more frequent and uncontrolled when together. His voice would drop, raspy and slow, that went straight to your core when he spoke into your ear.

You couldn’t tell if it was part of the act or things had changed within him. He didn’t hate you now; you knew that much.

“What do you think about making a hallucinogenic that coats the Rovers’ teeth?” He tapped a pencil against his notebook. “If we got specific, we could make them picture their loved ones when they saw other tributes.”

An interesting idea, but synthesising something so specific would be impossible to happen before the next games. “It’s a good idea, but I think we need to be more general with it.”

“So just make them hallucinate?”

“Yeah.”

He made the face he made when he was creating different outcomes in his head. Eyes scanning the room as if there was a display in front of him. He could always create a list of variables that could come up.

Humming, he spoke. “I like it.” and then he went back to writing.

His hands were delicate. Long and slender fingers. You wondered if he played the piano. Surely he did. It was refined and gentlemanly, just like he likes to project. Though as more time led you to better understand him, he very much wasn’t. He watched you with hunger anytime you were out.

You often caught yourself questioning if that hunger was real. It certainly looked real. It felt real.

There was a time when one of your heels had broken during a night out and he had carried you from place to place until it was time to leave. During that night, his hands suspiciously were always on your ass. Once you even felt him squeeze the meat, saying that he was “adjusting his grip.”

He felt like fire. You knew the danger of playing with it, but you didn’t fear getting burned. So you kept him at an arm’s length. Always wondering if there was something more or if he had just fully committed to his role. Perhaps you’d never know.

But in the night, when you lay in bed, whispering your secrets to the stars, they’d be ones of him. How you wanted him, or at least to try him. To know him truly. And when you lay there desperate and needy, it was him you thought of between your legs.

“Coriolanus?” there was a question you had to ask him now. “Are we friends?”

It hung in the air. You felt like it was a mistake now to ask him that. He paused his writing, eyes locking with yours. They raged like a tempest, an unreadable depth you were afraid to swim in.

“Friends?” The word tasted strange on his lips. 

He had only ever had one friend, Sejanus. If they were really friends was something he didn’t know. He had simply not belittled Sejanus growing up and then, by the time they were mentoring for the 10th games, continued contact would imply that they were close friends. That’s why Dr. Gaul had made him go into the arena after him.

But he had killed Sejanus. It didn’t make him sad either. His “grief” was about being caught, that ‘d be the next to die. But since the guns were gone and everyone else involved was dead, he truly didn’t care about what had happened to Sejanus.

“Yeah friends. I think it’d be nice if we were friends. All things considered.”

You watched the surprise wash across his features briefly. He seemed caught off guard by your question. Like he had never considered the idea.

Coriolanus Snow did not have friends, only enemies. 

“I think so too.”

In that moment, a fragile connection became more solid, better defined the boundaries of your actions. It was uncharted territory. A venture into the unknown with a man who you hated months prior.

___________

A week had passed since you had last seen Coriolanus and somehow in that time he had gotten sour with you. Scowling at you the moment you were in private. You had no idea what caused the change. The two of you had officially been friends for four months now.

And despite his glaring, here you both were at some random high society member’s house for a “private dinner” of 80 people, and Coriolanus’ hand had not stopped rubbing up and down your thigh since you sat down to eat. He got dangerously close to your core, fingers brushing the crease of your thigh. You could almost think it was his own desire and not for show. And of course your dress just had to have a slit up to your hip on that side too, giving him plenty of access to your bare skin.

Despite the odd behaviour from him, you remained outwardly composed and playing your part. The dinner was in full swing; the drinks flowing. Both of you had had your share of them too, perhaps Coriolanus had too much.

By now, everyone around you was too intoxicated to notice if you told him off.

“Coriolanus Snow, remove your hand this instant.”

He paused, hand settling on the apex of your thigh. Then with a smirk he brought his mouth near your ear, he breathed on your neck making you shiver. “Or what?” His voice was laced with mockery.

“I will make a scene,” you hissed, eyes narrowed. “And I will tell everyone here how their golden boy can’t get it up.”

He laughed loudly, drawing a few eyes towards you both.

“Thinking about something you shouldn’t be? You know you wouldn’t have to worry about that.” he rose from his seat kissing you roughly as he left. He had drank too much, and felt too loose.

Sobriety was his norm. He hated the sensation of being intoxicated. But this was an event he had to drink at. That made it even harder to keep his thoughts straight around you. Every drink was so bitter and burned the back of his throat. Somehow, he wandered out to a balcony and found company in some semi-notable members of society. The cool night air helped him sober up some.

The entire purpose of him being here was to maintain the illusion of normalcy. For you both to blend in with the polished appearances and mannerisms of the crowd. To push the narrative that the Plinth and the Gaul families supported him wholly. He kept the idle conversation he had made with the group outside until they scampered inside, cold from the chill of the night..

Staring out over the city that one day he would rule, he felt only partially satisfied. Like accomplishing what he has sought to do since he was a child was lacking. Having the country would fulfil one of his goals, but he had more than he wanted. He was so close to that goal too. But even with the thrill of knowing it would all soon be his, a gnawing emptiness chewed through his stomach. The twinkling lights below are no longer enough.

He thought of you. Not even in a debauched way this time. He thought about your laugh, how you snorted when something amused you slightly. You always just wormed your way into his every waking moment. It had been nearly six months since you had started pretending to be lovers.

At first, he hated you. He thought you arrogant and entitled. Then he desired you. Your body is constantly dancing on the edges of his mind. Now he likes you, or thinks he does. You don’t annoy him anymore and you were even friends. He even sought out your company while in the labs. Or the idea of you he liked. Your rough edges cutting against him, making him bleed, but he’d bandage himself and touch you again.

This was the fine line drawn finally so blurred. Smudged beyond belief. The intangible made tangible. Ambition and desire. Power and control.

“You alright? You’ve been out here for nearly an hour.” There you were. Always so devoted to your role, to him. You’d come out here during the winter in your thin dress to find him.

God, that dress.

Red silk fabric draped and pooling around your body. The slit on your thigh and the deep plunge down to just above your navel. It was so unfair to him. How could he not want you when you looked so delectable?

He had had too much to drink. His ribs hurt from how hard his heart was drumming in his chest. Anguish stirred within him, regret and despair burning him.

He wanted to scream and cry. Throw his pocket watch off the edge of the building, shatter the illusion of his life. It was so unfair. He tried so hard, did so much. Then you just had to ruin it all. He had given up these feelings, the craving for intimacy. Lucy Gray had killed that part of him. Torn his heart out and showed him how weak he really was, and now it was happening again. Convinced him that he was immune to love’s allure, no longer beholden to such a useless emotion.

Your presence had infiltrated his every waking moment. He breathed and thought of you. The thoughts only stopped when he slept. Your effortless charm, captivating looks, it was just so unfair.

Was it love that he felt for you or just an overinflation of his own desires, an idealised version of you or the flawed person in front of him?

 But you just had to be you.

“Corio, are you okay? What’s wrong?” your hand cradled his cheek as you leaned over, scanning his face, trying to figure out what was wrong. Your touch was so gentle to such a broken man, sending jolts of electricity across his skin.

How could he tell you that there was something so irreparably broken within him? Something that wanted to lock you away and keep you just for himself. To study you and break you down. To wake up next to you in the morning. To know your darkest secrets. To consume your very person. He went from hating you to needing you in his life so desperately.

That he needed you carnally. He could never become the president, but die happy if he had the chance to lie with you.

Your words hung in the air, an invitation to open up and let him in. But he was so lost. He couldn’t tell up from down or left from right. And he was so, so scared. Scared of his feelings, scared of being honest, scared of losing control. But most of all, scared you’d run just like she had.

But he knew no matter how dark his thoughts were, no matter how strong the desire to break you became, he wouldn’t be able to do it.

“I don’t know,” he confessed, barely audible with the wind blowing, but you heard him.

Your eyebrows drew tight in concern. God, you cared for him. Or was it an act? You were so good at playing your part. He just wanted to know if you were honest with him or not. If you could just break his spirit again, he could go back to normal, get over this hump.

“You’re going to freeze out here. We should go inside.”

“I don’t want to.” His throat bobbed. “I just…” finding the right words to say was so hard when the curtain fell and the actor became just a man again.

You sat down next to him, wrapping your shawl around the both of you. “You just what?” you spoke your tone so soft and intimate it made his head spin. “Talk to me. We’re supposed to be a team.”

“I just…” fuck, why can’t he just be honest with himself for once? Stupid Coriolanus, weak and incompetent.

You leaned your head against his shoulder. “It’s okay if you don’t know how to say it.” tender comfort spoken like a true lover. “Sometimes it’s enough to just be here together.”

He tilted his head back, tears threatening to spill. He shut them, letting out a sigh. He has never been a coward before. He had always been a man of plan and action. He didn’t have a plan now, but he could take action.

He turned, facing you, taking all of you in. The wind blew through loose hairs, making them flutter around your face. One got caught in your lipstick, the semi glossy sheen trapping it. He pulled it free, making sure not to mess up the colour, and tucked it behind your ear. He couldn’t take his hand away from the side of your face.

“Your hands are freezing.” You giggled as if he had told you a stupid joke that made him laugh in response.

“I think I’ve gone insane,” he confessed, more to himself than you. “I can’t play this part anymore. I can’t do this anymore.”

You interrupted him, protesting against whatever he was going to say. “Corio, we have to-” but he cut you off.

“I can’t,” his voice broke with desperation. “I can’t keep pretending that I love you and that when we’re alone, the lines are so blurred it’s not even a line anymore.”

Unspoken emotions hung in the air. He searched your eyes, searching for anything that might give away what you were feeling, but just like usual, he couldn’t read you. He only saw himself desperate and bewitched by you.

The weight of what could come next pressed down on him, tightening his chest. He couldn’t bear the act anymore. The constant struggle to only want you in show. But there was something on the undercurrent with you. Maybe he was projecting his own feelings on you, but he was so certain of it he could almost taste it. It was a risk, a jump into the unknown. He was asking for rejection. For humiliation, just like he had faced before.

Fuck it. Fuck it all.

He leaned in, breath mixing with yours, and kissed you. He actually kissed you. Softly and gently, like the whisper of change. He was ready to pull away, for you to tell him there wasn’t a crowd and you didn’t need to act, to say you were friends and nothing more. But as he was pulling away, your hands wrapped themselves into his hair pulling him back in.

It was an invitation, an answer, a reciprocation. A surrender to the moment, a mutual yearning.

He kissed you like he was starving and you were the last meal he would ever have. He kissed you like you were the cure for everything wrong with him. He kissed you like if he stopped, the world itself would never turn again, the sun would never rise, the tides would never change, that life itself would end. He would cut out his heart if you asked him to. He’d find a way to stay alive and watch you consume it.

His hands were groping at your side, kneading the skin. He was so gentle, so different from how he normally treated you. If he died tonight, pushed off the building by you, he would smile as he fell. Everything he felt, he always felt it so intensely and you burned through him like a wildfire.

There was so much passion. It buzzed in the air, drowning out the sounds of the dinner party. He would give you anything, done anything, to stay like this with you. But it wouldn’t last forever. So he kissed you with all care and longing he had in his heart, pouring his honest truth into it. He wanted to imprint himself on you, leave a mark that would never fade. He would stain you in his colours that would never fade.

In this moment, there was no pretence, no act, no script. It was just him and you.

He had crossed the line, finally shattering the illusion that you had both worked so hard to maintain and craft. He was terrified of the consequences, that if at the end of this you too would run from him. Scared of what he really was.

But he would never be the same. This had changed him forever. The never ending itch was scratched, but he needed more. His hunger for you only increased.

As Coriolanus pulled away, his eyes met yours. The guard you had was down and he could read something in them. Confusion clear, but the undercurrent of hope shining through. Your lips swollen and breaths quick gasps. 

You were so painfully beautiful.

You wanted the same thing as him, for the act to be over. The taste of something real changing you both. There was so much that needed to be said, but neither of you moved to.

Instead, you kissed again, and again, and again, each more passionate than the last. Your tongue was soft and wet against his. The chilly night air forgotten as you crawled into his lap. Coriolanus couldn’t stop his hands from running over every bit of you he could reach. When one reached your ass and he squeezed, you moaned into his mouth.

He had thought long and hard about what your moans would sound like, but the reality was so much better than he could ever imagine.

His kisses trailed down your neck, making you gasp and shiver. God, he loved your reactions. You brought out his basest animal instinct. He bit and sucked at your neck, leaving a hickey at the junction before going back to your lips.

You pressed your chest tight against his, hips grinding down against his own. He wanted to leave this party now, to take you by the arm and bring you back to his penthouse. There was no coming back from this, not stopping it. He couldn’t pretend anymore.

The death of an actor.

[noroi1000]

F**k your fav pt.9 - Bondage

Smut: Bondage, sex toys, overstimulation

Chapters Main Page

Your boyfriend's fingers rubbed your temple as you lay on his thigh with your eyes closed. Whether you want to sleep or not, it is still a comfortable pillow that you do not despise. You love those warm, completely soft thigh muscles he has.

"Are you comfortable?" He asked while reading a mysterious 'book' on his phone.

"Yeah." you purred with a smile, snuggling closer to him, showing that you were very comfortable and.

You could forget about when your days are to complete the items on the list. But he will never forget.

That's why he has to change something. Or add something. And you don't even know what it is, so that adds a bit of fun to it. You never expect what he will come up with. He might as well put something weird in there and you would only find out it was on the list when he started fucking you in the most unrelenting way...

This is your biggest mistake. You don't take his phone and check that list.

But well, the fact that you are unaware of what he wants to do with you now is his game.

He smirked at your calm, unsuspecting face.

You lay so politely on his thigh, feeling his fingers.

Oh yes, it was the calm before the storm.

He preferred you to relax now. Before what is about to happen.

This is going to be wild. Because even if he likes something like that, you've never tried many things like that.

Bondage... How beautiful it sounded now.

He was thinking about typical BDSM. However, he didn't want things like waxes and other painful things. He didn't want to see you hurt. This was supposed to be fun for you.

And by the way, is this still a test to see what exactly he likes? Or is this just his game?

He likes oral, anal. He likes to fuck your pussy. He likes to tie your hands sometimes. Well, he likes to dominate you.

If you ever agreed to anything more than your wrists tied, he would run for it.

But well, by agreeing to these tests, you agreed to help him. And with all this, you gave your consent to do whatever he wanted.

He ignored his biggest demon in his dick that told him to do unspeakable things to you.

There is no sex in his domain and there is no sex that will only hurt you. These are the rules.

Overstimulation, cum play, choking, dom/sub, bondage. That's all. All the things like pain for you and fun for him are out of the question.

And as he now looked at your body dressed in light clothes, he knew he hadn't made a mistake putting Bondage on the list.

You will look so beautiful naked, with your nipples erect as he takes care of you, your pussy dripping and the red ropes all over your body.

You will look beautiful and defenseless while he plays with your body with his cock.

And this 'book' on his phone is nothing other than bondage positions during this type of sex.

The best way for you to tie yourself up would be to have your legs close to your chest.

This will enable him to have the deep penetration you love so much.

And how does he know this?

Because when he bends you in half to fuck you deep, your eyes start to roll back in his head and water. And you moan louder and squeeze what you're holding onto tighter.

He read that most women hate it when something touches the cervix during sex. Because it's a strange feeling and discomfort, and even sometimes pain.

But he could only giggle through it. Because you had no choice but to get used to it.

There's no way you can avoid this with his cock.

He specifically measured the length and thickness of his cock. Just to show you his results. (Over 10 inches. More than 25cm I guess?)

(He couldn't measure everything precisely because the only ruler he had at home was a 20 cm ruler. The ruler was too short and the dick was too long)

And unfortunately these results are death to your pussy that has to endure this greatness.

And I wonder how your pussy will cope with taking him constantly spread to the deepest part.

When you tried to open your eyes, all you saw was black. Is that why you felt something in your eyes?

Did he just... Did he blindfold you?!

"Let me please..." he stopped and suddenly jumped out from under your head, making you no longer have a pillow under your head.

You don't know why you have such a (perverted) strong boyfriend when he ripped your clothes off in one move, tearing them into shreds and scattering them all around. Showing the wildness of his mind now.

What would he like to see today... Everything you can offer him!

You felt cold air on your body and he disappeared somewhere.

You heard the closet opening.

And when you went to take off the blindfold, you felt him quickly grab your hands and pull them above your head.

"Be a good girl and let me get you into position." You felt him kneel between your legs, draping your knees over his shoulders.

"Satoru –."

"Bondage. Baby. I have to tie you up. I want to tie you up." You heard him chuckle under his breath as he said those words. A quite soft rope wrapped around your wrists. They tied it like that for a while and suddenly he smiled when he saw the carefully tied knot which he had learned to make thanks to videos on the Internet. Special knot. "Don't be scared." he said, rubbing your thigh to get you to relax a little.

Only then did he use the rope that was tied to your wrists to pull your arms forward, wrapping them around your knees and bending you the way you were supposed to be.

"Don't be so tense. It will hurt to hold it in one place if it is tied too tight. So stop being so tense. Relax your body."

You didn't feel completely reassured, but you managed to heed his request.

On your lap he created the same knot as on your wrists, but you could have your thighs open.

(Correction: you had to have your thighs flared because you had no choice.)

He tied your wrists to the rope that was taut between your knees, making your body a crooked cradle.

"I almost forgot."

His hands reached somewhere else.

You heard the bottle open and then click as it closed.

And he spat on your open pussy, and smeared his saliva and something else cold on you.

It wasn't his finger. It had a rounded and quite wide tip....

Whether it is...

"Don't be tense." he repeated again and began to push the purple and pink toy into you with a large drop of lube on the tip.

Writhing at the sudden intrusion, you let out a few gasps.

When the base reached the end, the round, protruding part pressed against your clit.

"Here you are. Honey, you love this butterfly, don't you? This has always been my favorite and yours. "And now I need you to be wet and ready for me before I finish tying you up."

Wait, a butterfly?

That's what he said about that hellish vibrator with...

You let out a surprised moan when another, quite twisted tip of the toy found its way to your ass, pushing the wet ball inside.

This is the hellish vibrator that made your legs shake all damn day! NO! You don't want that now either!

(When he's not home, yes, you can use it. But when he uses it on you, it's different! He's using all the options on this shitty toy!)

"T-Toru!" You moaned to show him that you didn't want that thing inside him right now.

But he had already turned on the vibration, and you felt how it was destroying your unprepared nerves...

"Sorry, baby~. This was supposed to be BDSM~. But I chose the easier version for you ~. But that doesn't change the fact that you'll be like a good girl and take what I give you, right?" His humming voice echoed in your ears as he continued to bind your thighs and arms.

Sometimes he moved his hands under your body, near your ass. Laughing at the wetness that began to drip from the toy.

And you couldn't make any strong sounds. Because there was a little red ball on a strip in your mouth.

"And~..." He paused and then you felt his fingers grab the blindfold on your face. "Tadah!"

With your eyes watering from the stimulation you were feeling, you could see the red ropes connecting all over your body, especially showing off your tits.

"Don't you think it looks beautiful? And it took me so little time! You haven't even come yet!" He laughed.

He started to take off his clothes, but the first thing he did was release his rock hard cock, which looked like it was releasing drops of precum right onto your clit when he saw you, as he stood so close to you.

His red tip seemed to salivate at the sight of you and the knowledge that it was about to find its way into your hot, tight pussy.

As your body was bent, you could see the handle of the toy that was working inside you sticking out of your pussy. And the strong vibrations made wet sounds as they worked on your insides.

"Are you focusing more on the toy than on me?"

You saw and felt his fingers lightly pressing the toy as a punishment for you.

Yep, he was already naked. He searched for your eyes. And you looked more at the toy that made wet drops fall from you.

"I think I have enough punishment for you." He hummed and positioned himself next to you, squeezing a drop of precum onto your clit again.

His thighs pressed against you as he prepared to attack.

And at a breakneck pace, he replaced the toy in your pussy with his cock, moaning loudly in relief.

When you received different stimulation than before, you felt like the stronger and deeper stretching gave you something new.

And his small push forward caused the coil in your stomach to burst and your thighs to tremble as your eyes closed.

When he realized what had just happened, he smiled demonically.

"Keheh! Are you really cumming now?! I should feel honored that you cum just on my cock!”

As he pushed inside through your orgasm, he had no intention of waiting for your body to calm down. By agreeing to something like that, you were agreeing to excessive stimulation and really rough sex.

Your muffled moans were perfect to end the day.

Your trembling thighs rested against his chest as he moved his hips at a fast pace, feeling your pussy just suck him in. As if you wished he would never leave you.

The heavy sound of his ass slapping against your wet buttocks filled the room along with your muffled screams and moans.

Is there anything more beautiful than seeing and listening to you? No, there isn't. He sees in this image the most beautiful thing in the world.

Too hypnotized by the sight of your bouncing tits and the sight of your wet, fucked-out face, he didn't even pay attention to the small movement that was forming under your belly button as he pushed his cock so deep to you.

His movements never seemed to slow down.

He loved this sight and this feeling.

And the fact that you were lying defenseless and tied up underneath him only fueled the fire inside him that told him to fuck you until he exploded.

But at this moment, rather than cumming inside you, he preferred to cover your body in his cum and watch you lie there marked as his. With a fucked up brain as you shiver from the wild ride he gave you.

Maybe you'll want to do it again sometime?

Because he would love to see you lying there tied up while two cocks fuck you.

Maybe Suguru would agree to something like that?

Besides, this was probably the first time he started wondering why you blushed when you heard about him. Of course you like him. Also, why did Suguru agree so quickly?

Could it be that you both like each other?!

He was a little jealous, so his pace became a little more intense. But he also thought that his fantasy of seeing you kneeling in front of two big cocks could actually come true!

He may not have sounded normal when he proposed to his girlfriend that she had a threesome with another guy, but Suguru isn't exactly a normal guy.

He is also someone important to you!

His imagination, and the hellish yet angelic grip of your pussy, sent him over the edge.

He placed his cock on your stomach and squeezed your thighs together, fucking the softness of your skin.

For thick drops of cum to shoot out, covering your belly before he even decided to pour over the rest of your body. Thighs, and of course pussy.

He reached down, pulling the soft gag from your mouth. Letting you breathe deeply.

At this time, he pushed into you to warm his length for a while.

And he decided to say some very brave words.

"Maybe I like bondage and fun like that. If that's too much for you, prepare to be shocked, mochi." he chuckled, watching his cum drip down your stomach and crotch. "From what I know, Suguru sometimes likes to clearly show who is dominant and who is submissive. I can't wait to see this~.

Only to feel your pussy tighten slightly.

A/n: The relationship between Gojo, the reader, and Geto is a little different than it may seem. Gojo decided to invite him not only because he had fantasies about a threesome. As he was thinking about the question at work, he remembered an interesting incident from their future when they were still at school.

[multiplicationdivision]

Transfiguration

Vic laughed as Chuck cheered at the tv screen.

He had been boisterous since Vic had put him there, excited to spend some free time with his buddy and a few games of prerecorded basketball. Typically, Chuck would be watching these alone at night, coming home at odd hours from work.

It felt good every time Vic could make some time for him. His excitement was always infectious, pushing Vic to be just as invested in the games. Of course, Vic would cheer for the other team to keep it interesting.

The past two games had them cussing each other out numerous times, all in good spirits of course. Vic would mirror his best friend in energy as they both took goals far too personally, shouting at each other to “get fucked” or “suck it nerd!”.

It was a lot of fun every time. Didn’t hurt that these hang outs were directly correlated with the lack of Richard in the apartment. He was an awkward guy and knew it. Got along fine with Chuck but when it was just him and Vic in the apartment, time just dragged. That was unfortunate considering Chuck was the only of the three with an in-person job.

Vic didn’t hate the guy, he was nice in his own right. Never a single problem in their living together, but both men knew they held zero chemistry. Richard was the type of guy to spend his time reading, while Vic just needed a little more fun as a companion. Someone who would go with him to go rock climbing with or to get some wrestling in.

Vic could appreciate Rich though on days like this. Rich was the only reason he got Chuck on weekdays, when the guy was typically so busy. He’d wracked up a big debt to the guy just for the opportunity of getting to kiss his buddy when the big man should be rewiring a house or something.

Vic was just shifting to make a move on the guy when he heard the door lock click. That was a shame. A post-game makeout sesh was his favorite part. When they were both still far too energized to sit with it.

This fun was over though. Chuck groaned beside him, realizing that too.

A familiar face opened the door. That same fluffy brown hair and scratchy stubble that Vic was just fantasizing about, now on a tired face. He still looked fine as hell, but working in cramped spaces with heavy equipment all day always drained the man.

It didn’t help that his eyes immediately locked onto Vic and the other Chuck, face immediately grimaced into annoyance.

“Seriously man” he said, gesturing to his clone. “Stop doing this”

His clone snorted, rolling his eyes. “Shut up man, you're bringing down the vibe”

“Don’t tell me to shut up, you don’t get a say” Chuck snapped, “You’re not even supposed to exist”

That riled up the Chuck on the couch. “Well Vic thinks I’m pretty great! Spent the whole day with him when he needed me”

There was some humor in that, Vic could sort of see. The word need was maybe excessive. Did he need to do this, no. Did he want to do this, yes. Either way, he didn’t feel that bad about it.

“Richard was fine with it, so I don’t see the problem” Vic spoke up.

“You never see the problem and Rich is always fucking fine with it” the uniformed Chuck argued. “You two always end up doing this shit when you’re alone”

That was true. Vic and Rich just couldn’t stand the weirdness between each other. Vic got quickly annoyed at every conversation with the man that was stunted and weird. They’d awkwardly inhabit the same living space and be stuck in that unbearable situation of each other’s presence. Vic was pretty sure it was just some unrelenting sexual tension between the two, but Rich was about his straightness despite the way he evidently got hard watching Vic lift in the living room.

Honestly the fact that they could probably fuck and fix the whole rotten vibe was all the more frustrating to Vic. Rich was just too unfixably emotionally distant.

Fortunately, Vic wasn’t just an excellent at home worker.

Magic ran deep in his family and transfiguration was a specialization of his. Turning one thing to another was easy as pie, with just the snap of a finger.

Vic typically didn’t abuse it, although according to Chuck, he’d been abusing it more and more. Vic personally didn’t think he was at fault for it though. He didn’t even ask Rich this time if he could do it.

Chuck had left in his tight little electrician uniform, leaving nothing to the imagination. Vic had sulked as he was left to his devices, finishing his work super early as usual.

He’d just been about to head off to the gym when there was that oh so familiar knock on his bedroom door. The only time Rich ever really came to his door, equally bored. Coming to lean on the same vice they both used time and time again when they were both lonely and done with work. Rich had even already raided Chuck’s closet for an outfit, ready for what Vic would do.

He’d snapped and Rich’s body expanded and sculpted into the same Chuck that had left just an hour or two before. The distant gaze of Rich smoothed over as that jovial confidence took over, replacing the man in body and soul. The only thing remaining from Rich being that excitement in his eyes at the prospect of free time. Actual enjoyable free time, rather than the lonely free time all three of them would typically spend apart.

It was always wild facing the Chuck that would get angry about his creation of duplicates, considering that every fresh Chuck seemed so happy to be created. They’d come into existence with a roll of their eyes and a quick kiss before they pulled him off on whatever activity Chuck had been waiting for time to do.

The work Chuck would always argue with his double when they met, demanding that Vic turn the other him back into Rich.

Like now.

“You had your fun Vic, just bring Rich back” the uniformed Chuck said. “I just don’t want to deal with this”

“I don’t fucking want to be Rich” his twin argued back. “It’s not like you’re even the original Chuck anyways”

“Fuck off thats not true”

It was probably true. Vic had definitely forgotten which was which after a couple instances of this arguing. Sometimes the uniformed Chuck would shower and change, then go back to bickering with his clone. He’d always dress practically the same as his clone and then it was nearly impossible to differentiate the two. He’d just wait for the two to inevitably pass out and pick at random.

Vic didn’t really understand the drama of it all. There was still always one Chuck in the end. That was far better than what his family did most of the time. Hell his oldest brother had permanently replaced his father with a copy of himself. It wasn’t even a big deal, that shit was common. Now he just had two big brothers and one less shitty father.

Thinking about it, he should probably visit those guys soon. He missed them and they would find this shit funny.

Vic felt the need to butt in again.

“You know, Chuck, you’re not really convincing me that you’re MY Chuck” he said, putting his arm around the Chuck that had spent the day with him. That Chuck preened at the contact. “I quite like this guy”

The uniformed Chuck’s eyes widened in frustration. “I know you fucking like him, because he’s me. Why can’t you just wait for me to come home and hang out?”

“You always come home at like 1 am, I need more than that” Vic argued, using the edge of the basic commitment of a relationship.

Both Chucks cringed at that. For all that Vic probably abused his power, it really could be prevented by them making some time for him. They were more than just friends with benefits.

Chuck seemed to relent a bit. “I know…. It’s just I rather we figure that out than you give me an existential crisis every week. Its fucking distracting”

Distracting was the key word. Vic knew his buddy deep down. Not distressing or terrifying, but distressing. Vic wasn’t a sociopath, even if his views of transfiguration had different ethics than what a normal person would think. He’d seen his family drive people mad with change their minds and bodies before, unable to cope with their identities being putty.

Vic knew his friend wasn’t like that, no matter this weird charade he always put on. Chuck was like Rich in that way, always wanting something without being able to be honest with himself.

Chuck had a knack for that adrenaline, finding way too much pleasure in impermanence. It was the reason they always had such killer sex when there were two of him, Chuck riding high on the feeling of being so deep under Vic’s sway. Knowing that at any moment, Chuck could be shifted into a completely different person.

Chuck was at conflict with himself though and a degree of self preservation always stuck around to make him pissy whenever he discovered another him. It would be frustrating to Vic if he didn’t himself get a good time at watching the two Chucks get hard as they argued.

“I think I should stick around at least for the night” the clone Chuck argued. He definitely was planning to try and switch places with the “original” Chuck.

“Yeah like that’s gonna work”, the “original” argued back, knowing the strategy because he’d used it himself. “I’m gonna take a fucking shower, I don’t want to feel gross and continue this bullshit”

“Yeah well I wanted to take one too”

“It doesn’t matter if you want one, that would be wasting water. It’s not like you’re going to be around for much longer”

They both sprinted to the shower. Vic had seen it before, they’d inevitably go in together. Chuck was competitive like that and both would competitively get each other off. Vic couldn’t understand how Chuck convinced himself that he didn’t enjoy this.

Vic called his bros as the two audibly fought in the shower. They didn’t pick up, the call going to voice message at the sound of both of his older brothers’ pre-recorded message about calling again. He wondered how his brother stayed so invested in keeping another him around. Vic had done it a couple times as a freshman in college, but it had been only interesting for a bit.

He couldn’t keep it exciting like Chuck seemed to be able to. He could hear them audibly fucking in there, arguing with each other about being quiet. He was glad they were bad at that part, rubbing his own dick as he listened to them.

It was times like this that he fantasized about just keeping the two of them. Rich was great but he could always just turn another guy into Rich. Rich probably wouldn’t care, considering the man loved Chuck. There were a couple dicks at the gym that Vic could imagine would make a good Rich. Maybe even Rich(s) plural. Maybe Rich spending time alone with himself would fix his stupid masculinity crisis.

He was almost at completion at that idea when the two Chucks came stumbling out of the shower, fighting over the single towel. He glanced over at their wet brown hair, the two actually towelling each other off even as they still played at not enjoying it.

He focused again on the tv as they got dressed.

As he expected, moments later they were out again. Both were dressed in nearly identical clothes, both wearing comfortable tank tops and joggers. He turned his brain back into their bickering.

“You’re not even the original”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the original”

“I was the one who went to fucking work today, you’re Rich”

“Do you have any proof? Vic just turn him back”

“Eh pass” Vic said, pretending not to care. “Might just turn you both to Rich if y’all don’t feel like actually giving me proof”

The Chucks balked at that. Unconsciously as they both turned on him and not each other, one of the Chuck’s wrapped his arm around the other in solidarity.

“I have work tomorrow, you can’t do that”

“Yeah you can’t do that to us!”

“Again buds, not seeing any proof that you deserve to stick around” Vic said with a mocking threat. It wasn’t a real threat that he’d turn them into Rich. He’d quite decided on keeping the two around. At least until they all got bored of it at least. “need some convincing”

The two Chucks glanced at each other before fighting as they both fell on the couch. This was when the actual fun began. Vic gestured at his cock and the two pushed at each other, taking “turns” sucking him off. Vic sat there taking it in before pushing them off when he wanted a turn, reaching under both of their pants to grip their cocks. Having the two completely at his mercy as they collapse under his rough touch.

It went on like that for what was probably an hour. Vic would push them at each other and in their lust they would fuck as he watched. He made one of them watch as he held the other down, threatening to transfigure him if he couldn’t take it. The whole time the other Chuck taunting his double as he demanded Vic to change him mid fucking.

This was their routine, this weird edge of an identity crisis and an orgasm. Brought back Vic’s memories of the past months, repeating variations of this same scenario over and over in the bedroom. Making Vic fall deeper and deeper in love with this crazy man who revelled in Vic’s twisted little power.

Vic felt so good as they were slumped there, relaxed in the aftermath of it all. The two Chucks on top of each other, having fallen asleep in near perfect synchrony. They’d wake up tomorrow to see he hadn’t changed one of them back into Rich. There would be a whole lot of fun from that. He was so spent but even his dick couldn’t help weakly hardening at the idea of the two of the Chucks doing their morning runs together.

He was definitely gonna have to go to the gym to get another Rich. He couldn’t imagine ruining this shit when it was proving to be such a good idea.

Part 2:

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not telling my partner that i love him?

i (23f) have been with my partner (25m) for seven months now. we still haven't said i love to each other. i very much do love him and im pretty sure he loves me back but im not telling him (but not because im scared he wont reciprocate!)

a bit of backstory. seven months ago i asked him out one night (we were coworkers, we're not anymore for unrelated reasons) and he said yes. so we started dating and hanging out, you know the usual. then after a bit i asked him to be my boyfriend, you know to make the thing a bit more official, and once again he said yes!

now, i hate the little "relationship games" that people sometimes do, like never double text or wait a few hours before replying to not seem clingy or stuff like that because i find them kinda childish! but at this point i kinda caved and im waiting for him to say i love you first, i am not gonna say it even if i have to wait another seven months!

im a hundred percent sure that if i tell him first he will reciprocate and everything will be good and nice but i kind of want to hear it from him. i don't regret the fact that i was the one who took the initiative with asking him out and then asking him to be my boyfriend so its not a big deal if im also the one that says i love you first. but i cant help but holding back.

(a bit of context: i know he never takes the initiative in general when it comes to relationships. he told me during our first date even! if it wasn't for me that i asked him out that night we would've never dated. and its not a problem for me, i don't think bad of him because of that. hes just kind of insicure most of the time and overthinks a lot, so i think hes just not sure if/how/when he should say it. but i cant help but feel like a bad person for not takin the initiative once again)

so AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[lullabyes22-blog]

How are you so good at writing Silco's dialogue? It feels like I can hear his voice whenever I read your fic!

Thank you so much! Silco's voice is one of the trickiest to get right, so it's very gratifying to know his lines feel true to canon<3

Honestly, Silco has such a unique way of speaking. He doesn't sound like any character I've encountered before in media. At first blush, he comes across as your cookie-cutter Scar-coded villain, speaking with a subtle drawl, and an air of eloquent sarcasm and biting wit.

But that's where the similarities end.

Silco's a talker, for sure. But there's a cutting brevity to his sentences, almost like he can't be bothered to waste words. If you read his lines from the show out of context, you'll find that many of his sentences are more like questions posed in the form of observations. And when he speaks, there's a lot of subtext. He likes to keep the listener off-balance, always wondering, "is this guy actually talking to me, or is he just monologuing in his head?"

Also: his syntax is odd. Silco is extremely formal. He seldom uses contractions, and he never swears. Even when he's furious or stressed out, his diction never breaks (even if the accent starts slipping). His sentences are often very short and punchy, but there's also an art of obliqueness in there. He's a master at ending a conversation in the middle of a sentence, leaving his interlocutor wondering what comes next.

This may be controversial (largely because the poet is a misogynistic piece of shit), but I often liken Silco's dialogue as similar to Charles Bukowski's poetry.

Bukowski has an unrelenting cynical wit, succinctness, and a deep love for the word "fuck" that saturates the body of work even if the poems are not actually explicit. I always feel like Silco has the same tendency to subvert the banal, and turn a casual, throwaway comment into something gritty or profound. A lot of Bukowski's poems also deal with working class alienation and poverty, and there's a hardcore bastardly vitriol that is uniquely misanthropic in a way that feels true to Silco's worldview.

Also, fun fact: I hate Bukowski's poetry. He's a terrible, terrible man, and that disgust I feel towards the poet often bleeds into the way I handle Silco's dialogue in FnF.

This is not a nice person, and that's a crucial part of his character. He's an unapologetic anti-hero (anti-villain?) and I want his dialogue to reflect the darkness inherent in his actions and motivations. There's something irredeemably broken in his worldview, and that nihilism he touts as its own nobility is going to haunt him till the end of his days. Because life on the edges of monstrosity, in the dark, down in the dirt, doesn't make you inherently more 'honest' or 'brave' than those who actively choose to live in the light. In fact, I would argue that it makes you infinitely less honest because the darkness becomes a smokescreen to hide your own failings. It gives you plausible deniability. It's so much easier to believe that the world is inherently shitty and that you are an agent of justice taken to its blackest extremes, than to actively find ways every day to make the world a softer, brighter, and more inclusive place.

And to an extent, we can't even blame him, because in a place like Zaun, survival is all that matters. In such a zero-sum game, it takes someone inherently saintly to put the needs of the many above their own - or to martyr themselves in the process.

And we all know Silco's thoughts on martyrs...

Tl;dr:

Silco's dialogue is a weird balance between the brutal realism of his inner monologue, and the elegant, formal, and deceptively polite way he delivers his lines.

I bet he says 'Fuck', 'Prick', 'Cunt', 'Sod,' 'Bollocks', 'Shit', 'Piss' a lot.

But only in his head.

[house-of-mirrors]

r/fallenlondon simulator

Post 1: basic post about hitting a game accomplishment or enjoying a particular thing... and the off-topic things you find in the comments section may shock you!

Post 2: This part of the game isn't optimized to make the most money and that means it's bad

Post 3: I hate the characters and plot and mechanics in this game (yet I'm still playing it for some reason)

Post 4: the most incredibly fan work you've ever seen with only a few upvotes

Post 5: not in need of a discordance missive

Post 6: I ignored the story in a story-based game to do nothing but grind and now I am burnt out

Post 7: [it wouldn't be the subreddit if I didn't include a "heehoo the number" joke]

Post 8: the most volatile discourse topic known to man which you never would have thought was an issue if it wasn't for the post, with environmental storytelling in the votes to comments ratio

Post 9: monthly ES announcement

Post 10: AI art

Post 11: meme that's kinda mean and edgy when you think about it for more than a few seconds

Post 12: I need people to betray/I need a certain calling card

Post 13: guy who posits something about the lore but doesn't actually intend to listen to any of the answers

Post 14: newbie asking for help and getting answers that range from helpful to rude to focused only on optimization

Post 15: someone pointing out a social justice concern in the game text and getting a bunch of comments "well I don't think it's a problem so therefore it isn't a problem"

Post 16: Some guy that worships AK and the old writing and thinks being an ass is the peak of cleverness

Post 17: poll with an answer distribution you didn't expect

Post 18: poll with an answer distribution you did expect

Post 19: pointing out something in the game is unbalanced (may be accurate or inaccurate)

Post 20: wild card

Types of comments:

1. Some guy talking about being Mr Cards when in fact no one was talking about Mr Cards

2. Some guy talking about hating the liberation of night when in fact no one was talking about the liberation of night

3. Some guy talking about smen when in fact no one was talking about smen

4. Some guy talking about hating the thing OP liked in their post

5. discourse about a strawman or otherwise entirely unrelated topic

6. blocked user

7. [sigh. the number]

8. FBG itself (rare)

9. clever joke that makes you laugh (the only decent thing in the whole thread)

10. wild card

[rontra]

How does failteacher Yuri interact with the greater plot of persona 5? I remember Toriumi mentioning 'some weird shit in 2010', but do the two of them have to deal with stuff like Kamoshida's change of heart and the principal's death?

the current policy is that unless something directly and immediately relevant comes up the answer is "it doesn't"

for 2 reasons. number one is that i don't feel like binding myself to the month-by-month timeline of p5-the-game in too much detail, because i'm lazy, and making my AU up as i go (lol). and the second reason is that observing the plot from a completely uninitiated unrelated POV is just not very interesting to me....... orz

one important thing about my failteacher AU is that it's a casual n sloppy style(!!) project that i do this way because it's fun (and as soon as i stop having fun i will stop making it). the vibe of creating it is just as important as the vibe of reading it. my worry is that committing too hard to ~The P5 Plot Is Happening Among Us~ would have me too distracted by logistics and timeline puzzles that aren't even relevant to the story i'm trying to tell, and suck the fun out of the project for me...

due to the year difference btween the 2 games, the plot of P3 did happen in 2009-2010 (the "weird shit" comment was in a doodle but yes it did happen and parts of it will be Main Comic Material later when relevant) (and i think its obvious enough from comics like #3 and general characterization that the Hermit 1-10 arc took place) (BUT MODIFIED IN VERY IMPORTANT PLACES. LOL) but obviously toriumi was an uninitiated & unrelated POV to that game so she doesn't really know that much about it outside of the parts that directly impacted her (which to be fair. are pretty serious)

p5 is much scarier because its looming on the horizon in FRONT of us and i hate being confined by a tangentially-related-at-best timeline. directly dealing with stuff like the fallout of palace 1 is a MAYBE? but ONLY because there are tangible Relevant consequences for -us- (more scrutiny placed on shujin teachers -> ms chouno gets on kawakami's ass, etc)

im gonna be real withyou i didnt even remember the principal dies. MDHNBFGB sorry to this man

all in all its just like. 99% of the plot of p5 is stuff these people are not privy to (kawakami's % is removed due to her no longer being joker's confidant thanks to hermit meddling) + committing to that timeline too hard would be abrasive to the comic + im much more versed in p3 minutiae anyway (especially later on in the p5 year). so its kind of like. well. just try not to Expect anything too major xD

if smthg catches my interest and i can work with it to make an interesting development, sure. but in the end its like why would i risk binding myself to specific points of a timeline and incurring Untold Rammys when i could simply not do that to myself. you know 😭

HOWEVER. FOR UNRELATED REASONS THAT ARE IMPORTANT BUT MAY OR MAY NOT PAY DIVIDENDS LATER (<- what did he mean by this?) it is seeming INCREASINGLY LIKELY that we might in fact currently be in the autumn -before- p5, meaning joker enrolls come spring in a few months and the game starts then.

^this paragraph directly contradicts everything above it but its fine. i have my reasons. just don't hold me to it TOO closely. i don't want to commit to a timeline just to be boxed in by unforeseen consequences later. but if you were curious there is a quiet notion in the background that says the plot of p5 proper hasn't started yet.

it's a "soft fuzzy timeline" but that's Secretly where we're at in it . kawakami bitching about her awful new student come April <3

So Perhaps Time Will Tell. if they're still doing this shit come May maybe i get to blow kamoshida up or whatever

[lovelybrooke]

So I've been watching LilAggy on Youtube and its made me think about the stuff @oldworldpoolhall sent me about Elden Ring so I'll be talking about a bit of it under here.

Also thank you for sending me your thoughts, I didn't know how to reply to it all at once, but keep sending stuff in it really motivates me.

"I had another thought that’s Miquella centric rn bc I feel like he’s the type that would pull this type of thing where he sort of rizzes you by making you lose to a game with him...I don’t think he’d mind control you, even if he could. He doesn’t strike me as that kind of dude. And tbh I like how it’s chill when you’re with him. Slightly unrelated but knowing how the author of Game of Thrones had contribution in writing the game there’s gonna be a lot of politics and mind games concerned when you stay with Marika/Radagon, and although you don’t get to feel that and the heaviness of it directly, there’s some tension there, especially when you’re at the stage where Marika behind to question the Order"

So I really like this idea. I don't know much about Miquella's curse, so I'm kinda scared to imply anything romantic with him (if that's what you meant by rizzes, if not I'm sorry. If someone wants to explain his curse to me, please do, I don't want to be weird). But since I'm a big Mogh x Miquella hater, I wouldn't be apposed to something like this. Honesty it reminded me of an old idea I had for my Elden Ring Concept, where Marika, obsessed with reader, betroths Godwyn to them, which is how they get involved in the main story. I decided to drop it because I didn't think people would like it, but I wouldn't be opposed to writing some characters as romantic.

ANYWAY, I do see reader becoming really close to Miquella. Miquella, having powers related to dreams, relates to reader on a level none of the other characters could, so reader would just be closer to him automatically. If were going off the idea that reader is from our world, and is able to travel to the Lands Between through dreams, then I could see Miquella being really curious about readers world, growing their bond as he learns more and more about reader. Honestly it might be a point of contention with his siblings, as they feel like reader doesn't open up to them they way they do for Miquella. I could even see him being really prideful about the fact that reader prefers him, allowing him to keep reader at the Haligtree for often, keeping them from the others.

Also about your point on GOT, I love Game of Thrones, and it's honestly a reason I was so drawn Elden Ring as a game, so I would really like to involve politics and personal relationships into the concepts I write for Elden Ring. The issue though, is that a lot of stuff will be left up to my own interpretation, because in classic Fromsoftware fashion, a lot of stuff is left vague. Like I kinda just have to assume what these characters were like before the Shattering, y'know. When things are left up to interpretation I'm always scared of stating my own opinion because I don't want people to hate me

"...Also I would like to entertain the idea of the reader being a bit sad about the lands between— while beautiful, it looks bleak, empty. Like imagine walking through Leyndell pre shattering, being able to get out of the castle for the first time in a while after bothering Marika so much about it. And you realize how homesick you are when you walk around and realize it isn’t as… lively. Everything and everyone feels so foreign and there is nothing there that is even remotely familiar to you. The buildings look intimidating, the cold stone towering over you, and the feeling of emptiness is intensified with the lack of people and noise and /life/ and the golden leaves on the concrete. It’s not that it’s completely lifeless, it just feels terribly lonely. I think Miquella or Radagon would try to create something to at least to make you feel a bit more at home, a bit more comfortable, while learning about you at the same time outside of dreams and bonding with you in a way. You’re not complaining about what Radagon or Marika gives you, but it’s clear you’re upset because everything is new. They could give you the grandest things or the nicest of clothes and yet you won’t be happy— not completely. And I don’t think they’d completely understand the sentiment and that’s where the misunderstandings begin. All you want is to go home, and you’re not allowed to, they won’t allow you to. That’s one request they cannot grant you. Not even her children would"

I could see reader becoming really homesick really quickly. Like reader doesn't know how long with dream will last, so they just keep hoping the next time they fall asleep they'll be back in their own bed. I could see reader believing that Leyndell is a lively place, basing it off the cities of their own world, only to be very culture shocked. Like they've painted this picture of this world in their head and it's nothing like they expected.

I actually think Godwyn would be the one to comfort reader. From my knowledge, Godwyn was kind during his life, so I could see him being this comforting presence to reader. If we want to go real fluffy, Godwyn introducing reader to Fortissax, just so that reader could be extra protected, y'know.

Marika and Radagon essentially love bombing reader is very on brand, not gonna lie. Reader is given gift after gift, nice outfits, golden jewelry, books, the whole nine yards, and Marika and Radagon still don't understand why they want to go home so badly. Like, reader could ask anything of these literal gods and demigods, the only thing they can't give them is to leave. However, I could totally see it not being up to them, like reader doesn't have control of their powers, so it's totally a possibility that they fall asleep one day and end up back home.

Ideas I got while writing this, time for readers and their dreams operate weird. Reader could fall asleep and end up in the Lands Between for weeks, months even, only to fall asleep again and wake back up, learning that's it's only been a few hours. This could also work in reverse. It's only been a few days for reader since they've left the Lands Between, but for the others, it could be weeks, months, years before they come back. I don't know if this is a good idea, but it would lead to a cool concept where reader comes back after the Shattering, seeing all that's become of this family they once loved, at least in their own weird way.

Sorry for any of the typos I wrote fast.

[gyu-effect]

sucker (for you) || j.ww (teaser)

PAIRING || Wonwoo x Female Reader

GENRES ||  Best Friends To Lovers AU, College AU, Humour, Fluff

SUMMARY || First year in college was always known to be stressful with all the assignments to complete, parties to enjoy and lectures to attend. But for you, it was a whole different type of stress: the conflicting (and growing) feelings of affection towards your best friend. Falling for him isn’t an option, but neither is avoiding him. So what do you do when you are down bad for the one and only Jeon Wonwoo?

Or, in which, one drunk party sends you hurtling down a rollercoaster of love for your best friend.

SERIES MASTERLIST || teen, age

A/N || If you want to be added in the taglist, send me an ask!

“You are going to burn holes into his face.” 

Kwon Soonyoung hissed into your ears, causing you to glare at him. He raised his eyebrows, as though challenging you and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m not staring at him, I’m just…worried.” 

“Worried he’s going to end up sleeping with her?”

“Shut up, Kwon.” You muttered, eyes back onto your best friend, whom you were sure was going to regret every single action the next day. If he remembered, that is. True, the last few weeks had been extremely stressful for him, but to see the reserved Jeon Wonwoo you knew become drunk and act this wild was something new even to you, despite being his best friend for more than ten years. 

To the eyes that barely knew him, Wonwoo would come as a tsundere male lead, quiet and perfect in every way. A man who had control of all his movement, and thus also every single girl’s heart. Undoubtedly, he was very handsome. But you knew that the man you called your best friend was far behind the romantic hot heartthrob everyone painted him to be. In fact, he probably had a certificate in the loser department. He was nowhere close to perfection and was too laid back in life. What time should have been spent in getting a social life (you were sure he would have been an alpha male if he had just put in a little more effort) was instead used in levelling up in games. 

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. He had been on the dance floor for the past two hours which was definitely not a Wonwoo like characteristic. Right now he was aggressively moving his shoulders while awkwardly jerking his head. You were a hundred percent sure if this had been any other normal situation, he would have been very much flustered and embarrassed. But the high level of intoxication in his blood must have made him lose all his senses. As you watched Wonwoo pull out another fancy move (much to the delight of the crowd of girls surrounding him), a completely unrelated question popped into your head. Where had he even learnt those moves from?

“He asked Chan to teach him a few steps, but I guess Chan thought he wasn’t serious.” Soonyoung replied. You let out a small ‘I see’, embarrassed that you had accidentally said your thoughts out loud. When had he asked Chan to teach him? Was there any particular reason? And why hadn’t he told you about this before?

“It is quite shocking. I always thought Wonwoo was the guy who always kept to himself and his comic books.” Soonyoung said. To his friends and you it was definitely a new thing, but clearly the crowd didn’t think so judging from the squeals erupting around him.

“Did he say why did he suddenly want to learn how to dance?” You asked this time. The boy next to you shrugged, nonchalantly chugging down another drink from the red plastic cups. You grimaced, wondering how people even liked drinking. You personally hated parties and loud music but you didn’t mind if it meant hanging out with your friends. But no one mentioned that today’s party would involve even other people. Still, you managed to keep your sanity throughout the party just trying to enjoy yourself with your friends.

“Your guess is as good as mine. I highly doubt that he wanted to learn to dance on the dance floor. Hey, maybe he was trying to impress you?” Soonyoung grinned at you wickedly.

“Excuse me?” You choked on the chip you had just begun eating. 

“Everyone can see the uwu heart eyes you two give each other.”

“And this wrong insight into things is exactly why everyone supports the anti horanghae agenda instead.”

Soonyoung pouted at you and you let out a laugh, your irritation melting away at his cute reaction. You patted his back before adding, “Don’t worry. I’m for the horanghae agenda. It’s absolutely priceless to see the disgust on Minghao and Jihoon’s faces. I will always support you in your endeavour just to provoke them.”

“Y/N! I thought you were my friend!” 

You laughed once more before turning your attention back to the dance floor. For a second you panicked when you couldn’t find Wonwoo. He was already an awkward man in front of girls (a point girls often misunderstood thinking he was avoiding them because he was a frat boy who didn’t flirt unless absolutely necessary), and you doubted if he would like a drunk mistake to be the reason he stopped showing his face to the college.  

Relief flooded you when you finally found him at the corner of the room with some random girl you knew by face (you weren’t that good with interacting but that was beside the point here). But that relief turned back into panic as you watched the girl unzip his leather jacket and discard it, hands moving for his shirt. 

“And that is my cue to leave.” You nodded to Soonyoung who seemed to be enjoying this moment. Now you weren’t the type to meddle into your best friend’s love life but if the said best friend was a shy anime-lover boy with no alcohol control and was about to drunk make out with someone he had just met, you were going to be the supportive friend you were and save the little dignity he might have left after this night. 

Picking his jacket up from the floor, you accidentally rammed into the couple, causing both of them to stumble in daze.

“Ah, Wonwoo! I was looking for you! Come one, we need to leave, you have a mini test tomorrow, remember?”

Wonwoo blinked at you in confusion, and you just smiled at the girl before pulling him out of the crowded place. You ignored her screaming about tomorrow being a Sunday and focused on getting the two of you safely out of a room filled with drunk people. It was hard pulling a drunk man who kept stumbling on his own leg but you finally made it out of the stuffy place without losing each other.

When the cool night air finally hit the two of you, you let go of his hand and let out a sigh. 

“Thanks.” He muttered beside you, though you were not exactly sure what he was thanking you for, since you were sure he was having a blast back at the party. You glanced at him and tsked, annoyed by his choice of clothing. He was just wearing a sleeveless shirt and skinny jeans, clearly shivering in the cold night air. His hair was slightly messed up and his glasses were hanging at his nose tip.

“You shouldn’t have taken this off.” You said handing him back his jacket. He just draped it around his shoulders before giving you a lopsided drunk smile.

You wondered what all the girls would say when the drunk Wonwoo they had envisioned was nothing like the real drunk Wonwoo you knew. True, he did sensibly drink all the time, but today he seemed to have let go and judging by his flushed face, you were glad you got him out of the party before he committed a stupid mistake.

You began walking towards your dorm when Wonwoo called you.

“Y/N.” 

Turning back at him, you looked at him questioningly, asking him to continue. 

“Come here for a second.” But before you could walk to him, he himself stumbled towards you, looking eager to tell whatever was in his mind. 

You frowned and gently pushed his glasses up so that he didn’t strain himself to see through them. 

All of a sudden, Wonwoo grabbed your hand to pull you in closer, filling the few centimetres you had in between each other. Your eyes widened in shock when you felt his lips brush against yours. He immediately pressed his lips on your lips, your eyes fluttering close at the sudden feeling of warmth.

A million different thoughts were running through your head but they all seemed to be drowned out by an exploding feeling in your heart. You inhaled his scent; a mixture of alcohol and the comforting smell that always lingered around him; and felt the world stop for a second.

© 𝐆𝐘𝐔-𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑