#but i felt way more feelings than im willing to admit

[nicstylus]

DOTL spoilers TW: Scrapes and Bruises, mention of Death/Sacrifice ouch

[strwberri-milk]

a/n: cue me listening to the same secret time over and over to put me in the right mindframe for this bc I don’t have either of the cards for the AB set for this goddamn FISH – im still learning about him/specifically abysswalker raf as well bc I know nothing outside this audio so there are indeed going to be some growing pains uwu im still learning his voice but im in love w him <3

Wrapped in Moonlight

AO3 || Rafayel x Fem!Reader || Soft Smut, Mild Angst || 3, 503 Words

additional tags: accidental mask kink, fingering, vaginal sex, first time having sex [w/ e/o], first kiss [w/ e/o], rafayels acc so in love with you, i like the moon and havent ever had to write a lot of water motifs before

The dull thrumming of his heartbeat in his ears has never been louder, not until this moment here, with you.

Your eyes look up at him from where you lay on your bed, teeth lightly worrying over your lips as you take a deep breath, shaking your head as though to shake away the words that had his feet planted firmly on the ground. You’d taken to summoning him more often as of late and even if he could, he would never reject your requests. Rafayel knew that it was dangerous but he couldn’t think to care, beginning to crave being by your side in ways that drove him mad.

“I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you. Please, just forget I even said anything,” you begin to plead, averting his gaze and retreating further into your lush sheets. Sheets he knows the feeling of, the barely there warmth that his fingertips longed to feel, his resolve cracking every time you sleepily ask him to stay until you fall asleep.

“Your Highness doesn’t think I’d really be able to forget such a request, does she?” he decides to say instead, wanting to lean into a slightly more playful side of his persona to cope with the swell of emotions crashing down into his chest.

You stay silent and he decides to take this opportunity to step closer. His gloved hand parts the beaded curtain, your breath catching in your chest as you see the way the candle’s light faintly illuminating his face. Rafayel’s eyes are intense, something you’ve always noticed when he looks at you. All thoughts begin to cease as soon as his eyes meet yours, leaning in closer to you.

“Did you really think that I’d forget that you asked me to kiss you?”

The words hang heavy between the two of you, an unnamed but not unnoticed tension sitting on your shoulders once again. It felt like the two of you were constantly doing some song and dance, skirting around the way you both felt about each other. He looks like he’s got something more to say, watching you intently before stepping away. The clicking of the curtains gives you something else to focus on as you try to still your erratic heartbeat, hearing him draw the curtains to your room open at the same time as him blowing out the candles.

He stands in your window for a moment, the moon’s light wrapping around him so intimately you can’t help but be jealous. You shift in your bed, unconsciously crawling towards him. The sound makes him turn to look at you, hues coloured with something you can’t quite understand. You think you’ll drown in the depths of them but you can’t be bothered to care. If it meant being able to touch him, even for just a moment then you’d be more than willing to suffer that consequence.

“Rafayel, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I just didn’t think before I spoke.”

And you couldn’t, not when he looked at you like he wanted to devour you or whenever he’d touch you gently to reassure you of his presence.

Silence and tension continue to colour the air between the two of you and you have a fleeting thought that this might be the last time you ever see him. You couldn’t ever summon him again, not after leaving things like this. Rafayel can feel your eyes flitting over his figure, imagines that you’re committing his features to memory.

“It’s quite the opposite,” he admits after some time, long strides closing the distance between the two of you in no time.

You find yourself being pushed back against the bed. Slowly, Rafayel pushes you to lay on your pillow, staring up at him in the moon’s light. He looks ethereal like this and you can’t imagine how you’re still capable of any sort of thinking right now.

A slight chuckle leaves his lips at the sight of your eyes widening. His hand goes to cup your face, leaning in so close your noses would be touching were it not for that infuriating piece of leather that keeps your breaths from intermingling. You have half a mind to ask him again, this time in the form of a wish to see if he’ll accept but you feel your mind go blank as you feel him press his face against your neck.

“What are you-”

Your words devolve to gasps, hands going to cling onto his shoulders as you feel him periodically press a little harder against your skin. If you close your eyes and really focus you think you can feel his lips pressing against the leather, kissing you through his mask. His breath rings in your ear, you trying to keep your gasps quiet to avoid drawing attention to your chambers.  

“Fulfilling Your Highness’ wish. Is that not what you wanted?”

You know that even this much is more than you could ever ask for, Rafayel always watching you cautiously whenever your hands would near his mask. You understand that he has his reasons for privacy and you would never ask him why but now, you’re just desperate to feel his lips on your skin, desperate to know if it’s as good as you’ve fantasized about. The only solace you get is the warmth of his body seeping through his clothes, teasing the tips of your fingers as you try not to act desperate for more of his touch.

“I can feel you holding back. Don’t tell me Your Highness is getting greedy?” he laughs breathily, the slight pant in his voice unnoticed by you with how divine it feels to be under him.

“I don’t want you to hate me,” you manage to mumble, biting back a slight moan when you feel his arm creep under your back and push you closer to his face.

“Hate you?”

The words leave his throat almost bloody. Just the sheer thought of hating you made his stomach churn, murky waters of his affection for you maddened that you could ever think such a thing. His hands tighten their grip on your body to a way that’s almost painful, looking up at you with a look that has so much want in it that it steals the breath out of your lungs.

“I could never hate you.”

His hair tickles your throat as you feel him settle against your neck, nuzzling into you and resting his hand on your waist. You try to turn to face him but the weight of his body stops you, Rafayel giving you a sound of disagreement.

“I told you already. It’s quite the opposite.”

You try to ask him to clarify, about to open your mouth when you he quickly gets up. He looks at you quickly before going to look around your room, shaking his head good naturedly at the slight furrow of your brows and parted lips. You watch him rummage through your things, getting even more confused when he returns with a strip of ribbon between his fingers.

He crawls over your body again, tilting your chin with his knuckles. You think you’re imagining it in the low light but the apples of his cheeks seem tinted red. Curious, you bring your hand up to the side of his face. You’re glad that he doesn’t seem to be flinching away from your touch. A smile graces your lips when you feel how warm his face is, Rafayel now pulling away from you slightly.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, a slight pout in his voice.

“You’re warm,” you laugh, bringing your hand closer to his face.

Your fingers brush against his ear, sure with how warm they are that he’s bright red. Your fingers trail down the curves, nail tracing the shape of his jaw down to his collar. He doesn’t shy away. Instead, his hand goes to grab your wrist, the ribbon tickling your skin as he leans in closer.

“This is your fault. You know that, right?” he scolds lightly.

“If it weren’t for you my heart wouldn’t feel like a hurricane over the ocean. Do you feel that?”

He brings your wrist over to rest on his chest, your palm resting over his heart. True to his word you can feel his heart pounding under your fingers. He presses his chest against you, brows furrowing as your fingers press against him.

“You should be more understanding, Your Highness. You can’t just do these things to people and leave them washed up on the beach during low tide. It’s cruel.”

The way he pitches his voice in your ear makes you swoon and you’re glad you’re already laying down. Your knees feel weak and you barely register his thumbs tracing a smooth line across your cheek. You’re both so close to each other that you’re suffocating in his presence.

“Are you willing to face the consequences?” he whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

Weakly, you nod. With this, he brings both his hands to your face and suddenly you have your vision obscured by the ribbon he pulled out earlier. You bring your hands up to reach for it, immediately stopped by his strong grip.

“You said you’d be willing to accept it. You trust me, don’t you?”

His voice is raspy, laced with something more than just the question he’s asked you. There’s a weight to his words, something dragging down the vowels and accentuating the bite of his consonants. Your breath is caught in your throat as you wait for him to finish tying the ribbon behind your head, whimpering softly when he brings his thumb to press against your bottom lip.

Forced to wait, you try to imagine what he might do now. Your mind runs wild, barely listening to the sounds around you when you feel his weight on your body again. You reach out for him but gasp when you feel his lips press against your bare skin. The sound is indecent and you’re embarrassed you were even capable of making it but when you try to hide it you feel him bite you, squeaking in response.

“Don’t hide from me. I want to hear your voice. Don’t you think I deserve a bit of a reward for this?”

He continues to litter your skin in featherlight kisses, and you realise that his clothes don’t seem as thick as they usually are. You can feel his skin through the thinner layers, about to say something when his lips press against yours. It’s soft, barely there but the contact is enough to make your mind spin. You get the sense that he’s testing your boundaries and before he can pull away you wind your fingers through his hair, kissing him more insistently this time.

“I hope you don’t mind the blindfold, but I think it’s more exciting this way, don’t you think? This way, you’re forced to guess what I’m going to do next to you,” he breathes against you when he finally pulls back.

“You just like teasing me,” you mutter, scared to admit just how much you liked this and wanted him to keep going.

“I’m just trying to get revenge on you. You’ve been teasing me too! Don’t act like you’re innocent in all of this.”

He starts to trail kisses down your neck again, sucking gently against your collar. As much as he would like to, he can’t leave any marks on your skin. Something even semi-permanent like that seems far too cruel for someone like him to leave on someone like you. He reveres you and you can feel it in the way he kisses you, showering your body in an affection he’s never felt for anybody else.

“Rafayel – please –” you whimper, his name coming off your tongue his own siren song.  

“Please what? I won’t know what you want if you don’t tell me,” he hums, hand going to play with the fabric beginning to bunch under your waist.

He slots himself between your legs and your knees rest against his hips. You wish you could see him, look at the expression on his face. You wish you could watch him press kisses to your skin, watch his fingers tighten against you the way they are now, the way his nails scratch lightly against your skin between the slits of your nightgown.

“More, please,” he hears you ask weakly. “I need more of you. Rafayel? Please?”

He thinks he should tease you more but considering your current state and his own desperation he decides not to. Instead, he pushes up the fabric on your legs slowly, trying to see if you’ll stop him. When you don’t and instead try to egg him on by making it easier for him, he lets his hands rest on your thighs now laid bare for his hungry gaze.

“Are you sure? This is really something you want?”

The question is desperate, Rafayel not knowing if he wants you to stop him or not. His body longs to be pressed against yours, to make you say his name that prettily over and over again. He thinks he’ll die if he can’t have it, kissing lower and lower over the fabric on your chest to convince you to say yes.

He doesn’t know that he doesn’t have to fight that hard for you.

You clasp your fingers with his, bringing them to rest on the inside of your thighs. He’s glad he can’t see the look in your eyes, knowing that if he did it’d make all of his resolve crack if this is how bold you’re already being without being able to see the effect you have on him.

Tentatively, he brings his fingers closer to the heat burning between your legs. It doesn’t take him long to feel the damp spot between your legs and recognise that it’s getting damper with each kiss he gives you. You start to whine as his fingers tease your slit through your underwear, your body feeling things you didn’t know you could feel just with his touch.

“I didn’t know you were capable of such dirty things Your Highness.”

Despite his teasing words, you can tell he wants it just as much when he slips his fingers between the fabric and your body, fingers haphazardly exploring your body as he kisses your lips again. He swallows each moan you give him desperately, relishing in the whimper you give him when his fingertips start circling your clit.

“You’re the one doing this to me,” you whine, hips bucking against his palm as his fingers slip inside.

“You’re the one who started this. I’ll stop whenever you tell me to,” he mumbles against your neck.

Your moans are louder now and as much as he’d love to have everyone hear how good he makes you feel he also would hate it if your maid came in and saw what was happening. He covers your mouth with his free hand, ignoring the way it feels to have your gasps pressed up against his palm. He wants to ruin you, make you cry and scream from pleasure and have you be his for the rest of time but here, in the quiet of your bedroom he’ll settle for just this for now.

His hand stays focused, letting you moan and gasp into his palm as he fingers you. You feel his palm rest against your body, thumb replacing his finger as he the heel to rest against your core. He can make out gasps of his name when he hits a certain part inside of you and decides it’s too cruel to keep your mouth covered like this. You immediately moan his name, quieter this time to avoid being heard by your staff.

You clench around his fingers, the hand not bracing against his chest going to grab his wrist. Rafayel gives you a breathy laugh and you bury your face against his neck, continuing to moan and plead for him quietly.

“Please – Rafayel – I –“

Your own words are cut off quickly by your impending orgasm, biting into his shoulder to try and hold back your noises as your hips arch into him. The bite of your clothes against your skin as you writhe does nothing to impede the feeling of his hand on your cunt, Rafayel’s voice gently talking you through your orgasm. Stars litter the space of your eyelids, Rafayel’s arm coming to hold you against him.

When you finally come down you find yourself placed carefully in Rafayel’s lap. He’s taken off his shirt and unbuttoned his pants, gently tracing shapes on the skin of your lower back. Your blindfold is still on but you don’t doubt that the hard planes of your bed is Rafayel and when you hear his voice come from just above you you know you’re right.

“You’re awful to me, did you know that?” he muses, groaning slightly when you reposition yourself slightly and brush up against his cock.

“Stop that! I can’t believe you right now.”

“I’m just trying to get comfortable! This is just as much your fault as it is mine,” you say hazily.

You sit up on your knees, carefully putting your arms around his shoulders. You reach behind yourself to touch him, shuddering at the gasp he gives you against your arm. You feel his tip prodding gently against your opening, sinking down slightly. When you hear him gasp again you know you have him where you want him.

“You really want this?” you ask him huskily, mirroring his words from before.

Your hand rests on his cheek and you can feel him nod, continuing your slow descent onto his lap. It takes you a second to adjust to his size, hugging his neck tighter as you moan. His hands come to rest on your hips and he shifts slightly to create a better angle for himself. This makes him sink into you just the slightest bit deeper, you whimpering pathetically as he starts a slow, languid pace thrusting into you.

“Rafayel!” you gasp, hands bunching in his hair as you let him dictate the pace.

“Shh, shh. It’s alright, Your Highness. I’m here for you. Don’t worry – I’ll make you feel good. You know I will,” he mutters into your ear, continuing his gentle grind into you.

For the umpteenth time you wish that you could see him. For now, you have to sate yourself with his pretty moans and gasps, the way he feels inside of you and the affectionate kisses he peppers across your skin. Thanks to his pace you feel yourself coming to a slow build of your orgasm, his soft words of praise and coaxes going straight to your cunt. He groans every time you clench around him, the feeling of your pussy finally being wrapped around him making it hard for his mind to stop swimming.

He angles his hips to find that spot inside of you that makes you see stars, bringing a hand down to your clit despite how much he loves holding you because he knows he’ll love the feeling of you cumming around him more. When you give him a sharp gasp he knows he’s found it, thrusting more insistently. You grind against his pelvis, not wanting it to be over too quickly but still desperate for your release.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Rafayel asks, pulling you out of the depths of your stupor just barely.

“I can feel it. You’re getting so tight around me – if you squeeze me like this then I’ll cum too. It’s okay, just let go. I told you I’d make you feel good, didn’t I? You’ve already done so well. Just a little bit more, okay?” he coaxes, the sound of his voice tipping you over the edge.

You cum with a broken cry of his name, holding onto his shoulders tightly. It takes him just a couple more strokes inside of you to cum himself, unable to think of anything but filling you up and claiming you as his in this small way. The two of you sit together, coming down from your shared high. You whine a little about still wearing the blindfold but that’s quickly quieted by him kissing you again, telling you that it’s part of the condition for him kissing you.

Your breathing slows together and after a minute he feels you becoming dead weight. He laughs to himself when he realises that you’ve fallen asleep on him, carefully moving you aside to lay you back down on your bed. After cleaning the two of you up and tucking you into bed he gives you one final kiss to your forehead. You make a small noise of complaint, Rafayel kneeling at the side of your bed to take one last look at you for the night. His hand rests on your cheek softly, pretending that this didn’t drastically change everything.

“I love you. Sleep well, my Princess,” he whispers, the far away sound of waves lapping on a shore the only witness to his words.  

[sepherinaspoppies]

hunger - michael gavey x reader

summary: the things Michael does for a crunchie bar.

warnings: 18+, MDNI, mentions of oral m receiving, oral f receiving, fingering, overstimulation, f squirting.

wc: 2,366

masterlist

notes: my first time writing for Michael lol. yes I did watch the movie and im still appalled by it (too much dick). like all of us, I wish Ewan had more screen time on this cause I felt pretty bad for Michael. he just wanted a friend 😩. I plan on writing another fic about him but when? idk I have too many wips

She uses the pad of her thumb to collect the line of cum that had trickled down the corners of her lips. Bringing the digit back into her mouth to suck off the pearly white liquid, all while seductively gazing at the disheveled boy that sat on the edge of her bed. 

Michael let out a breathy moan, feeling his softened cock rousing back to life as he watched her throat swallow every bit of him again. She hums at the taste, salty with a hint of caramel from all those fucking crunchy bars he devours everyday when she’d seem him in class. 

She brings herself up from the floor, her knees starting to recuperate from the carpet digging amongst her skin. Standing, she begins to thread her fingers through Michael’s soft sandy hair, appreciating the silkyness of it and the faintest little whines that emitted from his lips before tugging his head back rather abruptly. 

“Would you like a taste of me, Gavey?” She asks, even though she knows the answer. It was why they were here, settled at her dorm. 

Michael nods zestfully, his eyes trailing to her covered core as if he was already undressing her with his eyes. She grabs his hand and doesn’t fail to notice it was a bit clammy with nerves, and it almost made her feel slightly bad about continuing but the way his blue eyes darkened when she directed his hand toward the hem of her floral dress, made her think differently. 

His fingers work at lifting up her dress. A deep shade of crimson floods his perfectly sculpted cheeks as he awkwardly and neatly folded her dress on the side of her nightstand. She giggled at his adorableness, she wasn’t as gentle as he was with her clothing. After, when they made their deal about what they wanted from each other, she clawed out his clothes and scattered them somewhere across her room, having no regard for them.  

Once she made quick work at getting rid of her bra, Michael’s eyes widened in amazement as if had just received the perfect gift he always wanted. His fingers twitched, longing to touch what was right in front of him but she knew deep down he was holding himself back. 

“I-um- I don’t know what to do” he admits sheepishly. 

She knows this, having it heard and confirmed by Felix and Oliver when they were at the pub with a group of their friends. 

She gives him a reassuring smile before straddling his lap, “I’ll teach you” 

Michael’s face reddened even more if it was possible. His gaze lingered on her lips, then a back up to her eyes giving her a silent look for permission to kiss her lips to which she nodded fervently. 

He wastes no time to crash his lips to hers, leaning his head forward to deepen the kiss. She moans, unsure if Michael knew how to kiss but even then she was willing to teach him if it need be. She moves her knees to get closer to Michael, her bare breasts scraping tightly against his chest as she wraps her arms around his neck desperately needing him to be closer than they already were. 

She whines softly into the kiss as she swipes her tongue over Michael’s bottom lip. Michael moans in response, parting his lips open to let her gain access and she seizes the opportunity to dance her tongue against his own. Michael furrows his brows in concentration, taking mental notes on how exactly she liked to be kissed by the way he strokes his tongue synchronously with hers and the soft little moans that follow out of her lips. 

She pulls away, a hint of chocolate and mint lingering on her lips, as she yearns for more of him between her legs. She almost wants to continue kissing him as she watches Michael’s blue eyes slowly flutter open and his lower lip curling into a pout, mewling at the loss of contact. 

“We can kiss more after, if you want. Right now, I need you to return the favor” She pants, out of breath. Michael mends his pout into an eager smile that makes her chuckle. For such an arrogant know-it-all he sure had a way of being cute. 

She lifts herself up by the help of Michael’s shoulders, crawling over the middle of her bed to rest her back against the duvet. “Ready?” She asks, wiggling her brows enthusiastically, already feeling giddy deep in her stomach. 

Michael nods as he slowly adjusted to sit between her legs, his curious eyes never leaving her damp covered center, his pink tongue sweeping over his lips quickly practically already tasting her. 

“Take of my panties, Gavey” 

She hears Michael audibly whimper as his quivering fingers hook to the waistband of her underwear, sliding it off and causing her to release a shudder over the coolness of his fingertips. 

Michael brushed his fingers against the garment of her underwear, studying it before he brought it to his nose, deeply inhaling the juices that were caused by being in the mere presence of him, from having him inside her mouth, around her hands, his kiss…

There was something so hot and erotic about it, seeing the guy who always picks on her for not being as smart as he was, sniffing her juices like he was a starved man. She moaned at his actions even more so when he quickly bent over the bed and stuffed her underwear into one of the pockets of his cargo shorts, probably saving it for later. 

She bites back a protest. Those were her favorite pair but she supposes she can spare them for now. 

Michael resumed his previous position in between her thighs. This time his face laid just centimeters away from her glistening core. She can feel his hot ragged breath fanning over the little patch of curls above her cunt, and very faintly she can hear Michael murmur “christ” under his breath. 

She props herself on her elbows, “Give me your hand” Michael releases another shaky breath before he allows her to direct his hand to cup her mound. 

“Do you feel how wet I am for you, Michael?” 

Michael groans, desperate for some friction he grinds his cock on the bed. He can feel it. He can feel his hand soaked with her arousal. Michael wants to pull back and lick everybit clean off his hand. 

“That’s- that’s my clit” She informs Michael with a strain voice as she runs his index finger through her folds. Michael stares at her engorged bud, having remembered studying it from his anatomy class and how it brought him great curiosity. Now, he was face to face with it and nothing could prepare how much excitement it brought him. 

“The clit is very important. It’s where most of our pleasure comes from. Just pay adequate attention to it and gently circle it-” 

She isn’t sure of the noises that leave her mouth, only feeling Michael beginning to circle her bud in a manner where not even most guys she’s been with have done so. It’s unhurried, unsure and gentle but it’s enough for her to feel waves of pleasure up her spine and her toes curling against the duvet. 

“Oh! Michael” She moans, arching her back and unintentionally caging Michael’s head between her thighs. 

Michael pulls his finger quickly like lightning away from her bud, his face showing a bit of concern. “What? What’s wrong? Was this not to your liking? I can try-” 

“No, no. You’re doing great, really. I-I just, well, I like it and I meant it in a good way” She reassures him with a smile, a slight warmth shoots to her cheeks. 

God, was she blushing at Michael fucking Gavey? Fuck. This wasn’t supposed to be part of the plan or the agreement! 

“Oh, I see” Michael smirks before lowering his head, “Can I use my tongue?” She almost wants to desperately scream ‘YES’ and grind herself against his face but she instead nods and that was enough of a response for Michael as he flattens the tip of his tongue where her clit was.  

Her back arches again, instinctively, feeling Michael’s tongue circle her bud and sweep through her folds all while he keeps his lustful gaze on her, watching the way her face contorts into different forms of pleasure and the audible moans and gasps he hears when he flicks his tongue in a rhythm he notes she likes. 

Michael soon also finds himself moaning at the way she tastes. It was a flavor so sweet. Sweeter than the chocolate of his crunchy bars he so religiously ate. How could he ever tire of her taste? 

Her chest begins to heave, her stomach feeling fuzzy and tight. She was nearing her first orgasm in weeks. 

But then suddenly something unexpected happens. Michael hooks her thighs under his arms, bringing her cunt closer to his face. His red and swollen lips closed in around her clit, tenderly sucking. His actions along with the vibrations of his moans, sends hot shocks of pleasure that she feels the band in her stomach about to snap. 

“Michaelllll. I’m about to-to cum” She cries, feeling orgasm seconds away from releasing. 

“Really?” Michael mumbles with an exciting look in his eyes. She hums, her hands no longer fisting the duvet but instead gripping Michael’s hair. 

Michael continues to lap at her core at the same rhythm he notices she likes, working his tongue quicker until he feels the meaty flesh of her thighs close in on his head and tremble. 

“Michael! Yes! Yes!!!” She chants so loudly that both her and Michael know everyone in the dorm floor would listen. She couldn’t bring herself to care about everyone listening. The genius math nerd in all of Oxford just gave her the best head in the world. 

Michael drinks in her release and this time he is able to pinpoint what flavor she reminds him of. 

Honey. 

She mewls softly. Her body feels weak and tired like she had just ran the longest marathon in her life. “So good, Michael. You did such a good job” She praises, giving the cunt-drunk man between her thighs a lazy smile as she brushes the damp hair away from his face. 

A blush creeps into Michael’s cheeks, a sense of pride fills his senses. He knows he wants more now that she let him taste her. Michael supposes she could give him another taste to satisfy his hunger. She was right there for the taking. Why not? 

“What are you doing?” She curiously asks, peering over as Michael dips his head again making her eyes widen in amazement.

“Michael, wait. We agreed just… Oh fuck!” Her back arches, hands gripping her breasts and a series of gasps leave her lips as Michael redoubles his efforts and works his tongue at an incredible speed that makes tears leave the corners of her eyes over the sensitivity. 

Michael was getting skilled at this. Too skilled with tongue. 

The thin metal of Michael’s glasses dug at her thighs, his face tightly pressed at her core as he growled devotedly. Had she just accidentally created a feral animal? Fuck. 

This time she feels herself ascending closer to her peak more than usual. Her legs involuntarily begin to tremble and her mind feels fuzzy as she has no more strength to fight the waves of pleasure Michael was awarding. 

“Michael” She cries, unsure why. 

Michael, however, lost in his pleasure instinctively comes up with an idea. He unhooks one of his hands around her thigh and brings one of his fingers toward her entrance, plunging inside her walls in and out and curses at the way she clenches around his finger. 

“No, no, no. Stay” Michael mumbles as her hips buckle away from his ministrations. 

This was all getting too much for her. But she does what she’s told and stays and her body violently trembles one last time until she feels the pressure deep in her belly explode and her vision going absolutely blank. 

Has she died and gone to heaven? Cause fuck!

She doesn’t seem to remember how to breathe or pick up the surprise yelps from Michael. She was absolutely drained and spent. 

“Are-are you okay down there?” She asks, panting, gathering whatever strength she had left to peer down between her thighs. Michael’s round blue eyes look up at her in shock. His face, coated with much of her juices. Even his glasses had not been spared. A palm sized wet patch soaked her bedding. 

Did Michael fucking Gavey make me squirt? 

“I’m sorry that's the first time that ever happened to me. Wait here, let me get a towel to clean you up” She stammers as she begins to crawl out of her bed but Michael’s hand wraps around her ankle, preventing her. 

“No need. I quite liked it” He blinks as cleans his face with his fingers, licking away her arousal like the embarrassing thing she did not happen. 

He plops himself next to her on the bed, landing with a heavy thud. “So” Michael trails with a smirk, his head resting on his elbow. “Did I earn my reward?” 

She scoffs playfully. How could she forget their deal? 

She was walking to her class earlier on the day when she spotted Michael pouding and cursing at a vending machine for eating the last cash he had on him. She evilly laughed at him before she nonchalantly walked over to the vending machine and purchased the last two crunchy bars while waving it on his face. Truthfully, she did not find chocolate as pleasing as he did. Michael had scoffed before he followed her like a lost puppy, telling her he’d pay her back the next day. A wicked plan forged inside her head in a way he could pay her back. 

“Here” She slams the two golden bars against his chest after she retrieved them from her bag. Michael smiles and mutters a ‘thanks’ as he unwraps his treat and brings her body to rest against his chest. 

general taglist: @dreaming-for-an-escape @marvelescvpe @omgisrdj @ramsip @silentf @thenightmistress @dixie-elocin @namelesslosers @gigi-panecillo @laureeedn @watercolorskyy @seabasscevans @kittendoll05 @fullmoonworshipper @smayhem @bunbunbl0gs @summerposie @dusicapopilic @tulips2715 @kckt88 @chaoticwinnercupcake @imsoshygirl

empty is who I couldn't tag sorry :/

if you'd like to be tag on my general taglist click here

[mrswint3rs]

i have a request🙏🙏i aint even gonna ask anonymously i am requesting this LOUD AND PROUD🦅🦅

female reader x wesker

reader and wesker work together and its like 2am since theyre working late and they go outside for some fresh air and share a cigarette together 😇😇😇 and that leads to them having the most disgraceful make out session ever and then wesker is needy asf that man is a brat and by the end of it he just leaves the readers legs shaking n sobbing 🦅

p.s- i love your writing its really good!! 🎀

Partner in Crime ☽｡⋆

pairings- Boss! Wesker x Fem! Assistant? reader

a/n- THANK YOU FOR THIS AMAZING REQUEST ! and im so glad you like my writing I really appreciate it <3 hope you enjoy this one (not proofread because im lazy)

NSFW WARNING :

contains- needy Wesker, Wesker planned to use reader as an experiment prior, unspoken romantic feelings, unprotected sex, brief use of pet names, age gap (reader is 20 and Wesker is 44) , breeding kink/ baby trapping ? ☁︎

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

Wesker had a plan for you from the very moment he laid his eyes on you. He had a keen eye for pretty little things such as you.

He figured you’d be easy to lure in. You were young, presumably naive and easy to manipulate.

He never suspected you’d become one of his most valuable and loyal assets. You were far from incompetent, he was entirely wrong about that.

Originally, you were nothing more than a test subject in his mind. You would be in his ongoing experiment into the development of the T-Virus. He would have you as a guinea pig, studying your blood, tissue, cells—anything you've got available—and then using it as test samples for further research.

Upon further studies, Wesker realized that you did possess an intelligence and ingenuity rivaling his own.

He came to realize that working with you was a far more effective way to achieve his overall goals for the future. With you by his side, he knew he could complete his experiments at a faster pace than he ever could on his own.

He needed someone just like you who was smart, cunning, and willing to do the dirty work necessary to advance his research.

So he changed tactics and began to work on winning you over, first by flattery and compliments, then by subtle manipulation and coercion. He knew that with enough time, you'd fall right into line.

You started to trust him, and even felt a little bit attracted to him. He had a way with words and his sharp intelligence made him even more appealing. You felt like he saw into your soul and understood everything about you. You felt connected to him. You had similar desires for the world.

Soon, you became his right hand man, doing most of his infiltration work. He has you sneaking around in secret missions, gathering information, and collecting samples of needed viruses. You become his most trusted associate and he relies upon you to carry out his darkest duties. You’re the one he trusts with all of his unspoken secrets.

Except for one.

He is capable of feeling love, and despite his attempts to hide it, he can't help but harbor growing feelings towards you. He would never admit it to anybody—especially not to himself—but there is a certain appeal and tenderness to you that he cannot deny.

It’s a secret that he would rather take to his grave, but it is also one of the few things that keeps him going throughout his dark and twisted journey.

You are the perfect girl for him. You understand him in a way that no one else can, carrying incomparable knowledge and morality. You see beyond the corruption and to the person underneath. You make him feel something that he has never felt before—an emotion that drives him to do things he never thought possible.

You are his strength and his weakness, the one thing that he can't live without.

The two of you worked hand in hand, never butting heads.

After you obtained the needed sample, fulfilling his orders, you both researched and developed the Plaga together, coming up with new ways to use it as a weapon.

You worked late nights, often staying up for days on end as you worked towards making the idea of complete global saturation a soon to be reality.

You are always there when he needs an able mind, helping to guide the progression of the project.

No matter the day of the week, the time, or how little you’re rewarded. You fulfill your duties promptly.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

You’re both working late tonight; as always, just the two of you in the lab.

Wesker can’t deny how much he enjoys your company on its own, but even so, he tried his damndest to prioritize his evolution. He knew he more than likely was capable of completing these tasks on his own. But he liked it better with you around.

He hates not having you right at the hip, knowing you’re fully devoted to his cause.

He wasn’t entirely debased, he knew you were often overworked at his selfish call. You pushed yourself for him. “Up for a smoke break?” he suggests, putting his handy-work aside for a moment.

“Sure. Could use some fresh air.”

You don’t smoke very often, but you find yourself craving one right now. It's been a long night, and this is a nice chance to clear your head.

Wesker stands silently next to you as you arrive outside, staring off into the distance and taking puffs from his cigarette.

He offers it to you, and you draw closer to him.

You take a drag, enjoying the taste and the feel of his body next to yours. You feel your body relax, and the tension in your shoulders easing. The smoke fills your lungs with a tranquil warmth.

You continue to slowly take puffs from the cigarette, ashing back and forth with Wesker. The nicotine is having its desired effect, and you feel a sense of euphoria wash over you as the stress of the night slips away.

But you can hardly be calm with each passing.

There’s no denying the tension between you. His hand brushes against yours every chance it gets as you’re already standing against each other. Your breaths mix together at each exhale of smoke.

Neither of you are speaking but you don’t have to. Great minds think alike after all.

He makes the first move, growing tired of holding back.

Dropping the cig, you’re suddenly pressed against the concrete wall of the building, his lips completely devouring yours.

In no way do you resist.

He cups your face gently but he kisses you with intense need, his breath coming out in burning gasps into your mouth.

He made no attempt at being tidy. His saliva mixes with yours, aching to become one with you. He presses against you, longing to feel your form in full. His leg delves between yours, his knee hiking further up your tight, pencil skirt.

The contact against your sensitive bundle of nerves brings out a moan, only increasing Wesker’s oncoming thirst.

But you stop his hand as he cups you through the thin fabric of your panties, causing him to pull away conflicted. He thought you were on the same page.

“Too fast for you?”

You lay your head against his shoulder for a moment, hiding your embarrassment.

The simple gesture makes his stomach flutter. You got so overwhelmed so easily from his actions. He found it adorable.

“We shouldn’t…” you mumble, though your words contradict your actions.

“And why shouldn’t we? I’m fairly certain we both want this.”

Really you had no reason why you shouldn’t. And as he presses desperate kisses along the curve of your neck, suckling and tracing with the tip of his tongue, you lose all common sense.

Your hands unclasp his leather belt, swiftly removing it from the loops.

As you work the button of his pants, unzipping and dragging them down, he takes it as a green light, dropping your panties to your ankles. You step your heel covered feet out of them, discarding them to the dirt of the ground without care.

Wesker firmly flips you around, pressing your face into the wall and pinning your arms behind your back with one hand. The other bunches your skirt up over your ass, exposing you to the cool night air.

“Think you can handle me, darling?” He asks rhetorically. You were going to take it either way, you were already this far. Right in his hold.

He teased his hardness between the slick of your folds, the heat making you feel woozy.

He slapped it against your clit a couple times before positioning to your opening, teasing in and out with just the tip. You curve backwards into it, yearning for more than just teasing and he slides in fully with a low grunt.

You suck him in, greedily backing up on further on him.

At the stance you’re in, the head of his cock pokes and prods at just the right angle with every buck of his hips, making you mewl out embarrassingly loud.

Wesker slams into your tight cunt so fast he slips out a few times. You were oozing with arousal, drenching around his cock so much he could hardly keep it together.

He keeps his strong grip on your wrists, keeping you bound while he stuffs you full. “Feels so good…” he growls out, “Can’t believe I waited this long to feel you like this.”

“Can’t take it-“ you cry out in response to his merciless pounding. He doesn’t slow or even consider, instead propelling even further.

“You can, and you will.”

Take it like the good little slut that you are.” he coos, “You can do it darling. Take all of me.”

Tears fill your lash line, threatening to spill as he continues, the pleasure overriding all of your senses. You couldn’t think straight, only standing because of his robust hold on you.

Your legs go wobbly, tears spilling out as you reach your climax, the best you’d ever had. You fall completely limp, brain gone dumb.

He loses his small bit of control, cock pulsing and twitching inside you as his cum bursts out without warning.

His mind goes fuzzy, his mouth pouring out whiny ‘I love you’s along with your name repeatedly without thinking about it, feeling too over the moon to care about the repercussions of his words.

He meant them. You were his everything, and he was sure to make it so you remained that way.

So he fills you up with his sticky seed, needing you to cary that constant reminder of him within you.

He was going to keep you as his own, no matter the cost.

mlist

[fuxuannie]

❥﹒a special kind of love

✦. synopsis — a relationship with dan heng can be a little rocky, but for him? you'd be willing to go through a landslide.

✦. love mail — im alive (i say for the 4th time only to disappear without a trace.. again) but this is inspired by my experience w someone v special to me!! happy 1 month ♡

✦. tags — HSR SPOILERS. noot really? i mean spoilers for dh's identity, dan heng x gn reader, fluff, i havent written for hsr in 6 years (dramatic), not proofread, im sick

"YOU'RE KIDDING!?"

You nearly topple over the trinkets on your desk when you had slammed the table prior to your screaming.

Moments before such a reaction, you had called Dan Heng into your room to discuss a 'private matter', in which you had to talk to him personally with no distractions.

'Private matter' being your feelings, and how bottling them up was making you lose your mind - so to save yourself the slowburn suffering, you had to confess the aching sensation in your chest every time he passed by.

"I, uh.. I like you." Your voice is almost a murmur, staring down at your desk that you stood behind with Dan Heng infront of it.

There's silence, he tilts his head slightly. "Sorry?"

You're about to repeat yourself, already regretting your decisions until you hear him clear his throat.

Looking up, you notice a hue of red on his face as he looks almost as shy as you, a rare sight from the usually nonchalant Dan Heng. "You.. like me?" He repeats for clarity, watching you nod as silence once more fills the room.

"Well.. I like you too. I'm surprised you beat me to the confession."

"...YOU'RE KIDDING!?"

And that lead to the unexpected relationship between the trailblazers who almost never interacted within the publics gaze.

You'll admit the first few weeks were.. awkward. You two didn't have much dating experience, especially Dan Heng, but you see how he tried. He'd always text you if you guys were seperated, you notice how he's much more clingy when you're around, and how he's clearly more comfortable with you than anyone else.

But you'd often times get him 'just because' gifts and letters, told him he was the person you adored most, and constantly reminded him how perfect he is. However, most of the time - especially in public, it still felt like you guys were more or less friends than anything else.

And because of that, there was a bit of overthinking that clouded your mind for a while. You of course, acknowledged that Dan Heng was not at all required to immediately reciprocate affection in the way you do.. but you simply wanted to be reassured that he felt the same way about you.

So on a rainy night, with Dan Hengs arms wrapped around your own frame as the sound of raindrops hitting your window keep you up.. well, not to mention the racing thoughts of insecurities, that played a part too. You looked up at your boyfriend, who was fast asleep with his beautiful and peaceful expression, which made you feel bad for choosing tonight to communicate your feelings.

"Dan Heng?" You whisper, lightly rubbing his arm to wake him. His messy hair is everywhere, so you first wait as he moves it away from his eyes to get a good view of you even in the dark. "..Hm?" He replied sleepily.

"..Do you.." Hesitation was evident, clutching the back of his shirt. "..Ever think I'm not good enough for you?"

Silence.

"Cause-" You sniffled, unable to escape the lump in your throat as you began to share your feelings. "I know I'm not that amazing. I'm not energetic and bright as March, I'm not strong and independent like Stelle, and I'm certainly nothing like you.. I don't get it. Why me? Why me when you could have anyone else?"

You waited for a reply, but you weren't expecting much. You knew he wasn't a talker, and that is something you learned to accept, but you didn't know how to feel about the chances of him responding with "I'm not sure what to respond." or something along those lines.

"(name)," He chuckled, pulling you closer as your tears soaked his shirt. "You don't have to be them, not March, not Stelle, and certainly not me. I fell inlove with you because you're you, and you're more than I've ever wanted in someone."

You didn't know how to respond, you wanted to talk more, but the rears were getting uncontrollable and Dan Hengs firm and comforting arms around you weren't helping your emotional state. So you cried, and cried, and through it all - he was awake till you'd stop crying. It was then you realized how much you really mattered to him, more than you could fathom.

He placed several small kisses onto your forehead,

"I love you, more than you know."

[misfithive]

What I think Simon likes about Wille

I have seen some discussions about “why Simon even like Wille” (😔☹️💔) both here and elsewhere. I'm bored sooooo here is my list of what I think! I admit when I first watched I used to wonder sometimes why Simon liked him, mostly bc the back and forth hot and cold of season 1 could understandably be exhausting however once i thought about it I came up with many things. (some are hc ish ) :) I also think that if you love wilmon's relationship then you can see what they see in eachother. Two people (Wilmon) created that dynamic together both of them are loving/open/gentle with each other it is deeper than " i like that he sings and he is pretty"- they like how the other person makes them feel which is different I think than what is usually portrayed in teen relationships. People focus too much on their fights/angst sometimes and not their nice moments I think the good outweighs the bad. Also why i believe in endgame bc they have something deep and special.

1. I think Simon thinks Wille is adorable in a dorky way or finds him endearing. When Wille dropped the utensil after their first real convo Simon was blushing and giggling

2. Wille actively seeks him out a lot and tries to help Simon when he can/ When someone is giving you that kind of attention it is flattering and shows how kind Wille is (the tip about tutoring, the rowing tips, the song on the piano). Thats a quality someone would find attractive

3. Similarly when they are together Wille’s attention and energy is solely focused on him / Wille smiling at him adoringly all the time. I think that would make anyone feel special and especially if you are like Simon and spend a lot of energy caring for/thinking about other people

4. Wille is generally very gentle with Simon which is beautiful and also imagine someone being that gentle with u and holding u like that im sure u would fall in love too lmfao even tho simon is asleep I think he felt it and this isnt the only example I just like the picture hehe

5. Wille wears his heart on his sleeve. Simon is more guarded with his feelings i think he could drawn to how open/expressive/ softhearted Wille is with him. “I didn't want to lose you” “you are beautiful” etc

6. Wille makes him sandwiches asks him how he is doing a lot etc sorry but no boys were making me sandwiches as a teenager a lot of small things like this are still a big deal

7. Wille is a prince and he could be a total arrogant a** hole like everyone else at that school and no one would think twice but he is not. It takes a certain type of person to actively not be like that when u are born into that level of privilege and everyone will let you get away with whatever. I think Simon likes that Wille is different than than the other people at school who ignore him and treat him bad.

8. Simon feels safe around Wille (maybe with the exception of the music room scene) but they have a safe space together its a strong contrast to the dynamic with marcus and i think everything with marcus serves to highlight how special the dynamic is with Wille.

9. Wille gives good hugs

10. Wille is nice to Linda and tries to make her feel included Simon thought that was cute (it was very cute)

11. They can laugh together and see how silly (ridiculous) august/some of the antics of the other boys are

12. I could go on okay but love is not always rational and cant be contained in a list, they are soulmates and thats that!!!!!!!!!

//Adding that i think Omar said in an interview that despite what Simon says in the locker room he thinks Simon likes that Wille accepts him for who he is. But if anyone can find the clip pls share I dont wanna misquote him! //

[choccy-milky]

oh boy anon, you’ve activated my trap card. GET READY FOR A SEBASTIAN CHARACTER ANALYSIS ESSAY BELOW LMAO

ok so first off I know im obvs biased, but I don’t actually think my seb is that ooc, AND PUT DOWN YOUR PITCHFORKS IMMA EXPLAIN WHY. but im also gonna explain why I don’t think the other more friendly and lighthearted renditions of seb are ooc either. bc theres so many aspects of seb we get in the game that can be interpreted in so many diff ways, and so this is how i see it/landed on MY rendition of seb:

PROTECTIVENESS/POSSESSIVENESS: this is one of the main aspects of him, imo. his entire questline is about wanting to cure anne, and how he’s not giving up, and how he believes that HE is the only one that can do it, because “she’s MY sister!” seb is super tunnel visioned and has a one-track mind when it comes to this, and I headcanon that he’s this way because of their parents deaths. he’s the brother, the boy, he’s gotta be strong for his sister, and ofc when their parents died, he tries to comfort her and be there for her/be the rock, and it happens again when she’s sick. shes his sister, his responsibility, and he’ll die before he gives up on her and her safety.

SO, I just transfer all those aspects over to a romantic relationship instead. you just replace “shes my sister” with simply, “she’s mine/my gf/my wife/etc.” and in the same way I think seb tries to be strong and reliable and protect anne because he’s the brother, I think seb would be the same way in a relationship, because he’s a boy and she’s a girl and its 1890 and he’s chivalrous and he just sees it as his responsibility. I think the death of his parents and his dynamic with anne has baked this sort of mindset into him, and its even MORE intense in a romantic aspect, because then hormones and puberty and sexual tension and attraction is involved (plus the fact that seb in my fic is 17, so he’s older and has even stronger raging hormones and testosterone LOL.

JEALOUSY: who can forget the lines “between the two of you, I’m starting to feel left out” and “ominis simply needs a moment with you and he’ll change his mind. is that it?” the first one is more playful but I feel like the second one really showcases sebs brand of jealousy, and how biting and uncharitable it can be.

AGGRESSION/VIOLENCE: yet another iconic line with: “fine. but ominis knows, I won’t step back from a fight.” LIKE... the fact that apparently ominis knows this means its come up more than once…and im not saying seb is some unruly aggressor who flies off the handle at anything, but he defs has a capacity and is willing to get violent if HE believes the situation calls for it—basically the same way he feels about the dark arts. he felt justified using imperio to protect anne, and taking the relic to save anne, and so he would have fought ominis to get out of the catacomb. and with MY seb, while he doesn’t go picking fights with any boy who looks or gets close to clora, he’ll definitely be willing to beat up or lay hands on a creep who bothers clora/who is in the process of bothering her LOL.

SO YEAH, that’s pretty much it, and I’ll be the first to admit I definitely ramp up these traits further because he’s older in my fic and i think these traits would only get more intensified with age + being in love and also bc IM A TWILIGHT GIRLIE!!! what can I say. there are so many moments in my fic where you can just replace seb with edward and it wouldn’t seem out of place tbh LMAOO so blame twilight, it was a formative experience for me BAHAHA

BUT like I ALSO said, I don’t think peoples more lighthearted interpretations of seb are ooc either. because even all my earlier above examples, you can just focus on diff aspects of them. like his tunnel vision and obsession to cure anne? instead of seeing it as over the top protective and possessive, you can just view it in a more wholesome determined selfless sort of way. like I said we got so many nice little bits and ingredients of his personality that we can turn into anything we want, really👌just pick which flavour of seb u like best and use what we got in game to create it HAHA

AW TYY QUEEN BAHAHA💖 and aw im always so honoured when ppl tell me they consider my stuff canon that’s like the best compliment I can get, tysm 😭 and im glad you like my fic and art so much (enough for your friends and family to unfortunately know💀 LMAOO)

im adding your ask to this because it kinda ties into my seb essay. LETS GET INTO WHY A SWEET BABY ANGEL WOULD LIKE SOMEONE LIKE SEB. the answer ISSS: the same reason WE’RE also all into him I guess?? BAHHA

ok but to start off im gonna defend my seb, not only cause of what you said anon (i dont want you to feel like this is targeted to you!) but also bc I got an ask recently asking me to summarize seb and clora’s relationship since all they see from my art is that “they fuck and seb is possessive” LMAO, and I feel like ppl who JUST see my art and don’t read my fic have a warped image of my seb.

this may be shocking but I don’t consider my seb a red flag LMAO. I joke about how hes more of a pink flag tbh, but even THAT i dont even really believe, and don’t even consider him overly possessive. like yes he keeps an eye on her when shes hanging around other boys, but I feel like that’s normal (esp for 1890) and all of his most possessive moments have been when theres been a threat to cloras life/coming from a place of love and protection (especially since clora is so self-sacrificial, she’d have killed herself by now if not for seb LOL) so to me id actually put Sebastian as being PROTECTIVE as his first and foremost trait, followed by the possessiveness.

and yeah he gets jealous, but unless a dude is actively trying to get with her/hitting on her/harassing her, he’ll otherwise just kinda be unhappy about it/let it play out/ watch on unhappily LOL. and even when lawley was blackmailing clora and getting in between her and sebs relationship and lying about how close he and clora were, seb demanded answers from CLORA on what was happening between the two of them, but he didn’t touch lawley or tell him to stay away. bc seb thought that was what clora wanted, so he let her drift away. if he was TRULY a red flag, in this instance he would have just beat up lawley for taking what was "his"/not allow clora to leave him/immediately go to lawley instead of clora, and tell him to stay away despite what clora might want. (and clora even WISHED seb had interfered and done this. she was like 'why is he letting me drift away and go off with lawley i WANT him to fight for me...but she couldn't actually say anything thanks to the blackmail)

clora doesn’t just 'put up' with sebs more possessive and protective behaviour though, she actually likes it HAHA. just bc shes a precious baby angel, we all like a bad boy, even back then. just look at jane eyre, and how popular the dark and brooding and assholey mr. rochester was.

she tells seb at one point that she likes those things about him, even his immature competitive side, and his darker sides, and that he shouldn’t try to hide them or change himself because she accepts them. and even putting aside all of the stuff they’ve been through together that has bonded them (like the main canon quests + annes curse and then CLORA being cursed, and then clora being kidnapped and seb saving her) clora thought seb was roguish and charming and witty and intelligent and good looking from day 1. add to the fact that he’s just so devoted to her in everything he does, that even if he CAN get a bit overbearing at times, how could you NOT fall for someone like that😩 someone whose possessive behavior just stems from wanting to protect you and love you and want to keep you safe and cherish you like DAMN…. GET ME A SEB, TOO. WHERES MINE!!!😭😭

clora also realizes in ch 32 WHY seb is so protective of her (the trauma with his parents and wanting to be there for anne) and that she accepts it, and enjoys it, and that she might even MISS it if seb were to ever get less protective of her/might get lonely LOL, and then sebs like "i’ve "spoiled you, have i?"

so YEAH I don’t think sebs protectiveness and possessiveness goes into any toxic territory or red flag territory PERSONALLY (and the time that it DID get toxic was because of the relic, and clora DID put her foot down)

but my normal seb? whose dream in life is to whisk clora away into a tower and lock her up to keep her safe and keep her all to himself, but that he’d never ACTUALLY do because he knows its insane and unreasonable but jokes about wanting to do it anyway bc he would if clora agreed? clora finds that endearing and cute and is touched by how much he loves her and wants to keep her safe.

IN CLOSING: I LOVE THEM YOUR HONOUR AND THEY LOVE EACH OTHER👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

[thesamoanqueen]

All Dat

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: Smut; errors like always

A/N: I’ll be out for a couple days since is MITB week, but I always do my duty.

She had worked most of the day, watching over and over hours of material, old edits, reading tons of interviews with all the same questions that would probably have been discarded as soon as they arrived. Working away from the creative team without being able to have immediate comparisons was complicated, but she had found a way to make it work anyway, to be efficient and always beyond expectations. She was willing to make more than a few sacrifices to keep herself independent and still be as present as possible in their relationship, especially if she was repaid with a good glass of wine and a dip in the pool with Roman. Well, frankly Roman was all she needed, but that was a whole other story and he kept spoiling her like it was his life's mission so… she could take advantage of the whole package.

-Mmh… this one doesn't get out of here – he greeted her, swimming up to her, to put himself between her legs and wrap his arms around her hips like a vice.

She liked to always look neat, look in her best shape and yes, even show off a bit. It made her feel good about herself, was a boost to her energy, a pamper to her mood and Roman hadn't skimped on compliments since they'd met. Not a single day.

She knew he said it to give her attention and that he appreciated it, but she also knew that new bikini wasn't going to show up for any beach trips or vacations really. Her big boy was possessive and jealous if someone crossed the line and the stuff she was wearing was a bit too an clear invitation to look more and more. She had bought it online, from an exclusive collection in which it looked different from what she was wearing and it bothered her a little, because making images and shots work was her job. The top was fine, it showed what it was supposed to, covered what it needed, but the bottom… either her hips had stretched out more than they should without asking permission or it was the bikini’s fault. It barely covered her under there and Roman or not, she liked to show off with class, she wasn't that kind of woman.

- I don't even know why I bough it – she admitted with a snort, feeling him kiss her stomach, stroking her back and sides with full hands, while she fixed it for the umpteenth time, the water of the pool rising between them and then ending up beyond the edge due to their movements.

- Cause you're gorgeous and you take care of me - Roman smiled amused, slipping his fingers between the aquamarine laces wrapped around her curves.

- You? Since when my bikini is yo business?

- Since everything under these tiny strips is ma business and you’re always good with me – he announced incredibly seriously, leaving another trail of kisses on her belly, to then go down a little more, dedicating himself to her thighs.

Unable to hold back her smile, Y/N started playing with his hair, quiting the attempt to put the bikini in its place to caress him, while he showed her all the attentions as always. She felt his beard brush along her skin, his full lips petting her inner thigh before biting down lightly, hands holding her firmly in place. From the top of the poolside, she watched him move slowly and inexorably in the water, the muscles of his shoulders shiny, the reflection of the lights along the edge of the pool, highlighting his dark tattoo.

- You've been home for an hour… less? – she reflected amused, already knowing how it would end up and she cocked her head when Roman undid the first knot on her hips, still kissing her.

His big hands pulled her towards him, securing her legs on his shoulders, licking a few drops off her caramel skin.

- Im thirsty - he said hoarsely, Y/N holding him by the strands on his head, feeling him go down to the thin strip of cloth that barely covered her.

- Ain't takin you a drink… - yet another mark printed between her legs, a kiss on her abused skin, fingers pulling another lace.

The already ridiculous fabric of her bikini fell off either side of her, bonding to her bare body only at her neck, but Roman left it in place just long enough to bring her eyes back to him.

- Mama taugh me how to do things, I can get myself a drink - he assured with a more deadly expression and Y/N really wanted to laugh, but he stole her breath by placing a sloppy kiss on her mouth and then slipped fully back in the water.

Y/N followed him with her eyes, delighted as always, affectionately scratching the back of his neck as he claimed his place between her legs. She brushed a strand from his face, feeling the heat building in her chest even before it got between her legs, refraining from jumping on him and kissing him for the rest of the evening, night, even her whole life, when Roman planted his eyes on her as he began his work. He pounced on her unhurriedly, spreading her folds with two fingers to give a first lick along her opening. Y/N moaned in excitement at his touch, snuggling her leg a little on his shoulder, seeing him smile cocky as he gave her yet another kiss on the soft thigh before diving into her core. His tongue was a fat pro, and each time he traced her moist contours to sink deep inside her opening, Y/N pulled him a little closer, one hand planted firmly on his head.

- Hn… like this – she encouraged him, fingers tightening in his dark hair, loosening the bun.

- It's been a long…-his mouth sucking first one fold-… day…-then the other-… I missed you – inexorable.

- … I missed you t-ah!

His beard itched against her sensitive skin, pool’s water slowly mixing with her moods each time he spread his mouth wide to eat her, dripping from his face. Y/N felt his breath against her button and belly twisting as he slowly fucked her with his tongue, the liquid heat building inexorably in his eyes and in her core. She rotated her hips instinctively trying to raise it, holding him in place with her hand, because patience under those circumstances really wasn't for her, but Roman locked her down with a gaze. Y/N saw his brow furrow and soon his white teeth slowly pinch at her knot of nerves, causing her to fall in a spasm to rest her back on the stone floor of the pool. She closed her eyes, feeling his big body come forward, pull her forward and soon found herself gasping at the slowly darkening sky. She felt his long fingers, joining the amazing work of his mouth, stroking her, rubbing against her smooth skin, spreading her folds, one hand feeling her stomach, holding her still more successfully than she had ever had with him.

For an unspecified time, Roman kept slowly to prepare her, warming her without haste and Y/N panting towards nowhere, feet now crossed behind his neck to have him close. Under her hands, her breasts naked and wet, rising chasing the increasingly hot breath, fingers that every now and then ended up on the grass beyond the poolside strip. Y/N had the feel that Roman was recharging her, licking away all the excess thoughts of her mind, stripping her of them as easily as he had stripped her of that obscene tiny bikini.

- Turn around and rise that pretty ass – she heard him order almost from afar, but when Y/N reopened her eyes and raised her head, he was already on his knees on the bench inside the pool.

His legs were half immersed, his swimsuit low to leave his hardness ready and shiny for the water. The pool’s lights gave him a dangerous look and Y/N couldn't take her eyes off him until he helped her back up, pinching her side to encourage her to do as he said. He kissed her nose, out of pure affection and she let out a languid smile, sliding her stomach onto the pool’s floor, feeling the rough ground against her nipples, moaning because of it and Ro’s hands. She felt his thighs rub against her ass, the weight of his hard cock past the curve of her buttocks, fingers dragging over her messy opening.

- Don't hold back - she asked in a cry, rocking her body against him once, before he slipped inside her effortlessly, filling her to the bottom.

- Lemme do my things - he said hoarsely, giving a long thrust that left her gasping and immediately another.

Y/N found herself resting her cheek on the ground, staring without really seeing the grass in the garden, the lights twinkling along the walkways, near the deck chairs, flickering as if she was drunk. Roman fucked her slowly and good, his movements were overpowering and for each thrust, Y/N felt his dick slamming against the bottom of her walls, in that sweet weak point that he always seemed to find in any circumstance and position. Her heat kept to build slowly, from the bottom of her belly, from his fingers holding up her hips, from the drops of water that dripped down his chest between their bodies, from the water splashing everywhere. His slow movement made her rub against the floor, her nipples harden and her moans breaking as they reached her throat. Her walls reached out to take him in until she felt completely exposed, holding on to his shaft as he mercilessly opened her, holding him as if they were afraid of him running away from her. Thrust after thrust, powerful, massive, the slimy sound of water and bodies colliding.

- Such a good girl… making Daddy hap-py – Roman growled low and Y/N nodded instinctively, quickly, feeling his hard cock throbbing inside her and the pace increasing.

- Y-yes-please yes

Roman was capable of accelerating almost unnaturally and she never resisted when it happened, begging hopelessly, slamming her hips into him for a better grip, for more even as her folds began to throb nonstop. She felt his strong arm pull her over him, pass under her stomach, to force her back against his broad chest and then come back to rest on her hip, his other hand holding her throat, kissing her shoulder.

-R-Roo ahn – the control he had over her body was almost toxic, but Y/N liked it.

She liked listening to his quicken breathing, his growls of pleasure growing dangerous, lower, synchronized with the throb of her spongy walls contracting, squeezing his full length. She adored his mouth biting her neck, her ear, fingers holding her throat without ever squeezing. She rubbed excitedly on him, fragile against his huge body, gasping as he guided them both to their climax, closer and lower, switching between the raw and slow pace to drive her crazy.

- I-im clo-se

- I know… ssh, fuck

Another kiss, more sloppy, but equally full of love, before bending her again, forcing her to put hands on the floor. Y/N let her head hang down, hair covering her face, as she gathered up what little clarity remained and then lifted it, gasping as she felt Roman give a couple more thrusts, long and confused, his hardness banging between the her walls pleading for a release. She moved back, trying to stay in place as possible and with the umpteenth hit on her sweet spot, she collapsed arching again with a strangled cry and almost immediately feeling Roman empty inside her from the spasms of her core. Gasping and rocking to the full curve of her orgasm, Y/N let him do with her as he pleased, pounding her again and again, until his cock had nothing more to give and he let go too, pulling her onto the bench inside the pool with him.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face under his head, still feeling him inside her, hands still gripping her hips. They stayed like this for a couple on minutes, silence cradling them.

- Maybe I could keep that bikini – she murmured at some point, hearing his low laugh, hands caressing her lazily.

- Keep what you want babygirl… all dat stuff won’t stay in place anyway

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @angelreigns444 @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @iovereigns @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @ichdrachenfrau @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @wrestlezaynia @reignsx @reigns-central-blog @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @thedonsfactory @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @namjoonspinkytoenail @tribalchiefdaily @2baddies2furious @vebner37 @raeluvshammett @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @thewarlordsworld @jeonmahi1864 @jxtina-86 @harmshake @harlem11680 @joanoai @southerngirl41 @blkbutterfly816

[hatkuu]

poly relationship with kylar and corrupt sydney. just imagine

THANK YOU FOR GRACING ME WITH THIS GORGEOUS THOUGHT!@!!!!! (m! kylar and m! sydney below!!) (gen! reader)

oh my gawsh. guys im actually really embarrassed to admit this but i've never done the christmas play event!>!?!?! (like, i still know the gist of it through screenshots and i know that they're FIGHTING constantly... and KISSING???!?!? i LOVE.)

- being smushed in the midst of a sydney-kylar sandwich is... messy. to say the least. on one slice of bread; you have a gorgeous, loving boyfriend that you've corrupted and turned into an absolute SEX FIEND - and on the other slice; you have ANOTHER gorgeous, loving boyfriend with a jealous streak who would do anything for you. including getting into a poly relationship with his ex-bestfriend...

- i think the polycule will be fairly awkward for the first few weeks... sydney will be teasing kylar and flirting with him while kylar is DISGUSTED because the only reason he did this was for you and not this whore—

- but then sydney would start being sweet to kylar like how he's sweet with you... and kylar will still be grovelling and getting all huffy... but (and he would NEVER utter this to anyone maybe you) sydney isn't that bad...

- then it slowly develops into kylar having a shared obession for the both of you and corrupt sydney downright ENCOURAGING IT (you can imagine how feral the sex is)

- being between your two boyfriends in the cafeteria is definitely chaotic. you're getting your face wiped at by sydney while kylar pets your hair - you're so overwhelmed from all the touching but it feels so good.

guys ill elaborate further on the cute stuff but. BUT IMAGINE YANDERE CORRUPT SYDNEY AND HYSTERICAL KYLAR COMING TOGETHER TO STEAL YOU AWAY???? (yandere behaviour, alluded kidnapping, gen! reader)

-

It's too much - juggling two possessive boyfriends who never leave you alone - you don't have any breathing room, and not even the private sanctity of your bedroom is left untainted.

So you ran.

You don't go to school anymore.

You don't even look at Danube street because the risk factor is simply way too high.

But you knew - even if you willed it away with clasped hands crouching at the foot of your bed - that your cowardice would inevitably catch up to you.

"You've been ignoring us,"

Your bedroom door is quickly slammed behind you by a much taller, forboding figure. His closed fist rests heavy against the door frame, long dark hair spilling over his shoulders. You're tugged forward into the figure's chest, and you can feel them shakily inhale your scent - like they've been having withdrawals from your absence. Sydney.

"Why— Why are you in my room—"

Sydney laughs breathily, his hand falling from the door to cup the plush flesh of your cheek. His thumb rubs just underneath your eye, cooing as you flinch at each calculated movement.

"I got some help..."

Sydney trails off, and you gasp as another set of much smaller hands place themselves on your waist. You feel the familiar texture of scratchy, split end hairs against the crux of your neck and shoulder. The hands eagerly squeeze at your clothed flesh, unintelligible murmurings following each excited touch. You know these hands. Kylar.

Kylar whines, pressing kisses that contain more tongue than lip against the sensitive skin of your neck.

"Y-You ignored us— Left us alone for weeks!"

Their shared grasp on you tightens uncomfortably as you struggle.

"G-Get out— I— I didn't invite either of you here—"

"Oh, we weren't asking for an invitation, dearest."

Sydney smiles down at you, all malice and sadistic cruelty.

"You should know what happens to bad spouses..."

One of Kylar's hands fall from your waist, fumbling around inside of his pocket until he sighs against you.

"Y-You won't ignore either of u-us again."

The tell-tale prick of a tranquilliser dart numbs any fear that you could have felt from the hushed words that slip from Kylar's lips.

[junggunz]

blood on me ft. gun park | 🔞

summary: your former mentor cuts you from training under him without any reason. when he finally speaks to you after weeks of radio silence, you're shocked by the confession he makes. cw: fembodied!reader, smut, long ass build up tbh sorry, established relationship, power imbalances - reader was a candidate for becoming gun's successor, oral (f and m receiving), p in v, gun is lowkey a creep ngl, wc: 3k an: omg i can finally cross ONE thing off my to do list after this long smh. as usual, im killing two birds with one stone. someone asked for gun + sixty nining ages ago and i have an entire playlist of song fics to do. if you've seen the playlist, ignore the fact i skipped a few songs lmao.

temporary shame, I know you like the taste.

Rejected Prodigy. It’s your contact name in Gun’s phone. But he would never let you know that he even bothered to go through the hassle of finding your phone number number. Or the fact that he’s been secretly tracking your location just to see what you’re up to without needing to actually speak to you. Fascination borderlining on obsession was the best way to describe how Gun felt toward you. 

It would be a lie to say that he wasn’t impressed by your fighting prowess. Goo had once made a comment that didn’t sit well with your soul, provoking you to knock him out was just a small display of just how much strength you held in such an unassuming body. 

Alongside god tier level fighting skills, you had impeccable leadership. A natural talent for making money. And your gorgeous face that was more than enough to get others to bend to your will was the cherry on top. Despite the way you subtly reminded Gun of Samuel in his earlier days with the way you desperately craved his approval, you were the perfect candidate to be his replacement for when he wanted to retire. 

However, Gun eventually cuts you off. He has no problem announcing it in front of all the other candidates that there are multiple reasons why you’re eliminated. As much as you pressed and tried to pry to get Gun to divulge his thought process to you, he wouldn’t relent or explain what those reasons were. In his mind, Gun is aware that the reasons he decided to sever ties with you are petty but that doesn’t mean much to him; the idea of having to utter the exact reasons to your face about your disqualification is what keeps him tight lipped and fills him with shame. 

If getting his arm broken by Daniel was better than any night Gun had with a woman, having you give him a concussion sent him straight to Nirvana. During a one on one training session against him, sparring with you had left Gun with an uncomfortable tightness in his pants. You made it impossible for him to focus on anything besides how your body feels against him when you put him into a chokehold. With how intoxicating your fragrance is, it was almost like he found comfort in you crushing his windpipe. He was more than willing to pass out in your embrace. Most— if not all— of the sweat he shed had come from a place of his body burning up with lust rather than physical exertion. Seeing that you had the physical strength to overwhelm him, the last thing he wanted was to give you an emotional upperhand by making you aware of how he felt toward you. 

Meanwhile, Gun rejecting you after all his arduous training you endured was enough to push you to resent him. Having him break your spirit this way felt akin to a romantic heartbreak and it was the most revolting experience you’ve had. You couldn’t stand how much time you wasted trying to get his approval. How much effort you put toward attempting to impress a cold blooded killer. What pissed you off even more was the slight chance that he was just fucking with you for the hell of it. Faced with the task of trying to figure out how to best serve the cold platter of revenge to him, the infamous Shiro Oni occupied way more space in your mind than you would like to admit. 

You don’t keep track of how long you’ve gone without seeing your former mentor, but Gun sure does. It’s exactly 4 weeks. 1 day. 1 hour. And approximately 24 minutes since the two of you cross paths. With how tenacious you seemed about being accepted by him, Gun assumed that you would be the one to reach out to him first. Preferably groveling and begging for another chance, but you showing off your talents to sway him was something he wouldn’t pass up either. Your pride doesn’t allow you to seek him out and instead, he is the one who has to make the sacrifice; showing up to where you were hanging out for the day. 

Gun expected you to be delighted to see him again, perhaps elated by thoughts of him giving you a second chance. You’re not. He expected you to lash out at him once he noticed the look of annoyance cross your face upon locking eyes with him. You don’t. Your lack of reaction shouldn’t make him want you even more; but it does anyway. And with how much distance that’s been put between the two of you, his heart has grown quite fond of you. Even if he wouldn’t use that exact verbiage.

When you try to leave the area, Gun closes the distance between the two of you with just a few strides of his long legs and catches you by the wrist, holding you in an ironclad grip that frustrates you as much as it renders you stuck. With how weakly you try to escape his grasp, Gun begins to ponder why you hadn’t pulled one of your various tricks to shake him. Wishful thinking wants to believe that you secretly like his touch. However, he could admit that his thoughts tend to get deluded when it comes to you.

“Come with me, I think we should have a little chat.” Gun tells you, not really giving you any other option besides following him peacefully or making a scene in public. Quite honestly, you don’t care about causing a disturbance but you find yourself going along with Gun anyway solely because you’re curious about what he was to say. 

The nearest private space happens to be his car and he doesn’t think twice before opening the door for you and not so gently ushering you into the passenger seat before he gets into the driver’s side. He’s quick to lock the doors from his seat and when you hear the locks click, you groan loudly.

“You reject me and now you’re holding me hostage. What the hell is your issue?” You snap, looking at him with your brows furrowed. 

“You’re my issue.” Gun responds without missing a beat, dark eyes holding your gaze; the expression he wears is one you haven’t seen before and it makes you freeze up. “You wanna know why I eliminated you?”

You brace yourself, expecting him to tear you down and go into excruciating detail about every single one of your shortcomings. Having experienced it first hand when he humiliated you in front of the other candidates, you know Gun isn’t one to spare anyone’s feelings. If you were terrible at something, he had no problem picking you apart and if you did well…sometimes he’d give you a compliment. It was all a matter of how nice he was feeling in the moment. 

You waited for him to spit his venom at you and eat away at the last shred of respect you had for him. But it never comes. Instead, you get his scarred hand grabbing your face and staring you down with narrowed eyes that resemble the icy and collected yet predatory stare of a snake. 

“I can’t have a successor that makes me lose focus while training.” Gun says to you through gritted teeth almost as if it pains him to tell you this. 

Hearing this from him doesn’t give you the closure you sought out and only prompts more questions to arise in your mind. Keeping your eyes locked on his, he doesn’t see your hand reaching for his wrist and going for the pressure point. Inhaling sharply at the sudden shock, he releases your jaw from his hold with an anguished laugh.

“Are you fucking serious? That’s it?” You practically snarl, your gaze being fiery enough to cause him to feel suffocated with the intense atmosphere the two of you sit in. 

“What were you expecting to hear?” He questions as a lopsided smirk graces his lips. “If it were simply a matter of you being unskilled, I'd have no problem announcing that to everyone else. It’d be embarrassing if I had to admit out loud that you were rejected just because you evoke more…primal emotions within me.”

Upon hearing Gun’s admission, you need to stay quiet for a bit. You knew if you said something immediately, all that would come from your mouth is a series of curses and swears that would make a sailor blush. Jaw tensing up, your anger steadily bubbling within you, your emotional control is really being tested. The petty reason for your disqualification makes you want to rip his head off, yet you’re filled with a sense of pride knowing that you now know one of Gun’s weak spots. 

All the days you spent toiling over ideas of getting back at him weren’t in vain because now you were being rewarded with him telling you verbatim that it’s you who’s his Achilles heel. Expression softening as you fall into the role of a temptress, you call out to him like a Siren; your hand boldly settling on his inner thigh. 

“Don’t waste anymore time telling me how you feel and just show me.” You taunt him, eyes glossed over with a dangerous lust that challenges him to cross the threshold and forever alter the relationship dynamic the two of you had. “I would have never guessed that all those times I caught you staring at me, you were looking at me with lust and not just criticism.” You muse, mostly to yourself. Even if you were using sex as a means of messing with his mind, there was no denying that you would no longer see him as a former mentor who bruised your ego and he wouldn’t view you as the star pupil he had to drop due to conflicts of interest. 

There’s nothing at stake for the two of you and it’s exactly why you let Gun take you back to his place. As soon as the door closes behind you, you have a moment where you almost want to back out; knowing that making Gun think you wanted him back only to leave him high and dry would be enough of a mindfuck for him. But when you feel his lips collide with yours, the unmistakable sense of carnality he kisses you with is infectious. You find yourself genuinely craving him and needing to feel more of him even if you had never thought of him that way prior. 

Barely getting your shoes off, Gun embraces you in an almost possessive manner, trapping your frame in his arms and forcing you to feel just how hot he got for you. 

“Don’t think I’m gonna let you get off so easily.” He murmurs against your lips when he finally breaks the kiss. 

You should have known better to think for even for a second that he would permit you to leave once he’s finally gotten you back. It took a lot of effort for him to set aside his pride and be vulnerable with you about how he felt. But Gun swore to himself that he would make sure he dragged you down with him into the pit of maddening lust he was wading through. 

Clothes fly off in a frenzy, tarnishing the once immaculate space of his penthouse and leave a trail of garments that lead down the hall to his bedroom. It’s a fight to get you into the position he wants; however, that only made the experience more exhilarating for him. 

Despite you being the one on top, you’re rendered into a state of vulnerability due to how exposed you are. Your pussy in his face, his rough hands anchored on your ass to keep you in place to prevent you from wriggling out of his hold.  Any semblance of power slips out of your hands when you start moaning along his cock while Gun’s tongue starts to lap at your clit. Not wanting to be outdone by him, the one hand you keep on his shaft tightens its hold; jerking him faster while you continue to suckle on the head of his length and tease the tip with your tongue. You’re pleased by how easily it causes him to buck his hips into your mouth, but you hate how his size makes you gag and drool around him. Sputtering and gasping as you pull your mouth off of him, a choked out moan escapes you while Gun eats you out so voraciously. 

“You’re just good at everything, aren’t you?” Gun chuckles softly into your flesh, trying to mask the moan that tickles his throat when he feels your tongue swirling around the tip of his cock and digging into the slit. It’s an involuntary response when his hips buck into your mouth, forcing you to take more of him into your mouth. The uncomfortable stretch of your jaw grounds you in the moment, letting you know that this wasn’t some fucked up dream portraying the deepest secrets of your subconscious. You were seriously topping off Gun. Drooling all over his perfect cock like some brain dead slut. In his bed—while his tongue worked your soaked folds and gifted you a pleasure you didn’t think was humanly possible.  

When your need for oxygen finally outweighs your desire to make him cum, you pull away from his cock; panting heavily while one hand continues to pump him sloppily and the other almost lovingly caresses his balls.

“I fucking hate you.” You mutter in that breathy voice that Gun had become oh so enamored with whenever you spoke to him after the two of you would finish sparring. Senses clouded by each flick of his sinful tongue against your private parts, you can’t even string together the words to mock him when you feel his cock twitching in your palm.  

“If you hate me so much, why are you so wet?” He coos in a sickeningly sweet tone, one his hands relinquishing the tight hold on your ass before he dips one of his long fingers into your pussy; a pleased hum rumbling in his throat as he feels how your walls slurp up the lone digit. “Why are you working so hard to make me cum if you hate me?” 

Thankful that he couldn’t currently see the look of embarrassment that washes over your face, your grip on his cock tightens at the sound of him patronizing you. Your hold is so rigid, it almost hurts but Gun was keen on the pain. In retaliation, two more fingers join the one he had inside of you and you whine at the stretch. Your hips lurch buck incessantly; unsure whether you wanted more of him or if you were trying to escape. Alas, he had made it clear early on that any attempts of getting away from him were futile. 

“So wet but still so fucking tight like a virgin. I hope you don’t bleed on my sheets.” He laughs darkly, both of you knowing that his fingers couldn’t compare to the girthy length you currently held in your hand. Fully giving into the demons of lust, your body slackens on top of Gun’s as you lean in to take his cock into your mouth again now that your breathing has evened out.  

There’s an obvious switch that’s been triggered in your brain. You definitely feel the change—and so can Gun as your tongue drags along the veins of his cock with even more precision and care. All efforts to make him cum first are in vain and you end up with quivering thighs and ragged breathing while you're overcome with a bliss you've never known until now. Your obscene moans are mostly muffled due to your mouth being filled by Gun’s length, your lips are poutier than usual when he gently pulls you away and you have no other choice but to admit your defeat. 

Limbs oh so malleable and your mind vacant as a result of the intensity of your orgasm, your resistance is the least of Gun’s worries when he rearranges your body on top of his. There’s no time to fuss or fret about how much you secretly enjoy the feeling of laying back against his broad, muscular chest before he’s grabbing you by the back of the knees to keep your legs apart while the tip of his cock breaches your entrance. Writhing in his hold, you take in each inch with little whimpers trying to get past your lips; the stretch blurring the lines between pain and pleasure. Not even giving you a moment to gather yourself, Gun is rutting his hips up into you, his veiny cock gliding in and out of your hole with his feet firmly planted on to his bed to aid him in keeping his consistently quick pace.                                                                                                                                      

Squeezing your eyes shut, you endure being split open by him. You felt like you were being carried off into cloud nine as the sting of his cock stretching you out had now blossomed into a mind numbing pleasure. Being rendered into this state of submissiveness by your former mentor caused you to give up on thinking about anything else but the sensation of his heavy cock filling you up and hitting all the right spots with minimal effort. The low groans and growls you could hear him emitting from behind you had been the cherry on top, making you even more excited. 

“We could make this a regular thing if you like it this much, you know?” Gun mumbles in your ear as if he was able to sift through the simple thoughts drifting in your mind. 

Whether or not you wanted to fall back into the routine of seeing Gun on a weekly basis and doing a different type of cardio would linger in your head. But for now, all you wanted was to test both your limits and see how much elation he could bring you in one night.

[sshadowritestoriess]

HELLOOOO im in love with the way you write our beloved rama 😭

i just wanted to know ur hcs about him beginning to realize he feels more about the reader than just friendship and/or how he deals with the first buds of sinful thoughts about their dear human friend? 👀

HI tysm!! Ramattra definitely has my attention hahaha. Sorry this is so long!! I just like writing 😂

Ramattra realizing his feelings

Earning his friendship was a hard enough task on his own. He never made that easy for you, or for anyone of flesh and blood

As much hatred as he has for humanity, he doesn’t outright assume all humans are evil. He understands there is still good in its kind, it’s just a matter of knowing who he is safe to drop his guard around when having more acute interactions

And this is a process he has the utmost forbearance for. As long as a person can express patience with him, then he is more than willing to allow himself to be understood by a human peer

You were probably one of the most respectful humans he had personally interacted with. Your kindness made for a strong first impression, especially in the way you had greeted him as any other person, looked upon him with no surprise in your eyes as if he had just been anyone else. Not a killer. Not a terrorist.

Still, for the ongoing weeks he kept his distance the more he had found himself in the same room as you, assuming his same process of determining whether your behavior was a front or not.

He was as kind to you as you were to him, which made things a little confusing on your end. You weren’t oblivious— you know who he is, and such a name as Ramattra came with a complex reputation. He’s certain he began addressing you as a ‘friend’ the moment you’d inquired why people thought him as ‘cold’

“You’ve been real nice to me,” you’d said, mirth in your tone, “I’m not just getting special treatment, am I?”

It wasn’t the first lighthearted joke you’d made in his presence, but it was the first he’d laughed at. He knew it wasn’t a question that needed answering, and so he didn’t. You were smart enough to assume the reason for rumor

Quickly, you both became close. (Well, ‘quick’ being you set the record for “fastest human to earn Ramattra’s trust”. It took fourteen weeks, but neither of you were counting.)

He was content to admit he admired you, respect drastically outweighing his contempt for what you were. It felt nice, to see you through blurred lines— he felt he finally understood, for just a moment, the bond that his brothers back at the monastery were trying to protect

But the more Ramattra grew to know you, the more he shared about himself. Which, tends to be a normal exchange between friends, certainly. Of the others he would dare call ‘friends’ before you, this wasn’t out of the ordinary

Yet when he would speak too much about himself with you, he felt shame. Embarrassment. He would wonder to himself at times if he should have shared certain things, and worried of your opinion

It made him pull back for a while, and was relieved you remained as patient as you’d always been. You made sure he was fine and he’d kindly dismissed you, to which you respectfully backed off and simply told him you were here if he needed

But… then when he was given the space he asked for, he became somewhat angry with himself. Now he just missed you, but felt so under pressure to be in your presence. It was frustrating.

You knew whatever problem he was facing had to be because of you, since he had told you just a few days ago that he preferred a little distance for now— but here he sat across the room from you, scrolling through lists of weaponry concepts to decide on what to work on next, inquiring your opinion of colors, of all things.

There came a day that Ramattra had a run in with a particularly violent human gang, of whom he’d shown little mercy for after they dealt the first strike— he should have swung the moment one of the strangers drawled about wearing his face as a trophy, “-after I reduce ya to nuts-n-bolts,” they’d said. A pitiful drop of confidence quickly lost into the newly reddened asphalt of the nearest alley

You caught him marching down a corridor, and it finally hit Ramattra like a truck when you’d approached him to make sure he was fine

He didn’t bleed red, you knew this. And something in him clicked when you immediately assumed him the victim, placing careful hands on his chest as you observed him for damage

Oh, he liked you. A lot. Had any other person of flesh approached him, he would have demanded solitude with a killing accusatory tone, a wordless threat of violence if his needs were not met.

But you had came to him, and he was more than relieved that you had. Just seeing you again, he realized why he hadn’t hit his attackers first.

“Are you attempting to domesticate me?” He had blurted, watching you curl your hand into the hem of your shirt and wipe the blood from his fingers. He takes in your baffled expression with a hidden affection- and yet again, feeling awkward for such a poor joke with little context. He fought himself on whether to explain, but decided better of it.

Understanding then why he felt so drawn to you, he felt somewhat justified in why he additionally felt like such a fool in your presence.

He hadn’t intended to feel this way about you, it couldn’t be helped. You hit many marks that he found objectively attractive.

He would spend the next few days observing you to thoroughly analyze his feelings toward you— to which you felt like a specimen being studied with how he kept tossing prolonged stares in your direction

He didn’t mean to appear like a creep, and he ended up feeling so much worse when you finally confronted his “quiet ogling”

“I— I was not,” he’d say defensively, and relaxed quickly when you laughed. “You are merely a fascinating subject to observe, is it so offensive that I watch?”

“Are you calling me pretty?”

“No.” He quickly bites, then immediately froze as he regretting saying it so harshly. He doubles back, “But, I do not mean—“ a pause, “You are fine as you are. But that is not what I was saying.”

Ogling. He was ashamed to find himself doing just that so soon after the amused accusation

The way you smirk before telling a joke, he’d mishear your jest when he was so focused on the way your mouth moved, and imagined running his thumb over your lips

When he’d find you closer to morning, he loved to catch you stretching your arms above your head. Your shirt would ride upward and reveal a bit of your navel while your upper half trembled into the stretch. He wanted to put his hands there, too.

He stole an opportunity to knead at your shoulder once when you complained about being sore from a prior activity, everting inside him lurching with humiliation when you settled comfortably into his lap.

An innocent gesture, sat between his legs while you accepted his kindness— though a deceptive offer, for he had just wanted a reason to have you this close.

He stared hard at your neck, gaze dropping to peer beneath your collar. It was dreadful. But he wouldn’t restrain himself, entirely glad he had a stationary face.

He’d pull at the cables of his mane when he was by himself, shaking his head and his fists at himself for this unrighteous behavior. Being away from you was worse, left alone with unrestrained thoughts of the things he could do to you

And oh, the things he wanted to do to you.

But you were a friend. A human. He was an omnic, and certainly not one built for… that kind of activity.

But then again, he was not made with life in mind, either. As far as he saw it, he could do whatever he wanted with the privilege of having agency

And that has resulted in relieving himself of these indecent thoughts when he shut himself into his quarters, blessed with the ability to create vivid images of what you would look like beneath him.

These solemn hours of the night should be reserved for meditation, and pondering his next move. But now he’s been reduced to touching himself with you in mind, pulling at delicate wires that were not meant to be tempered with.

Imagining you there. Evoking hypothetical risk by trusting you with his body.

But he hadn’t even made his feelings known to you yet. Hell, he couldn’t imagine a situation where he would without it complicating everything, or making you distant.

He knew he was the least likely candidate to end up in a cross-species relationship. So for now, he’d just relish in your friendship

And if ever you hint at wanting to take things a step further, you would find Ramattra quite eager to advance.

[russos-ventitre]

alessia russo x reader | lezioni di italiano II 🧸

✘ summary: your lessons with alessia continue and so do your unrequited feelings? who knows, maybe the blonde does feel some certain way about you

✘ warnings/tags: sick fic, friends to lovers, a bit of flirting, reader is mid-20s, AWFC!reader, arsenal!reader, ItalyWNT!reader, ItalyCaptain!reader

✘ words: 2675

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎→ part i ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎→ part ii

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎→ part iii

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎→ part iv

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎→ part v

a/n: translations provided as always! i recommend reading the parts in order

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ due

A week later...

It had been a little over a week since you left your home country to move to England. Feeling a bit more comfortable than you did on your first day and really trying to push yourself to be more open per se. Even if a certain blonde was secretly helping that just purely by being her clumsy self.

Yeah, you'll admit, the England striker was really growing on you, and you felt this certain emptiness in your heart when you were apart from her. A feeling you've never really experienced before, certainly not back home and it kind of terrified you.

But you pushed your feelings aside, deciding that it would be best to focus on football first and not lose focus because you were head over heels for a girl you've known barely a week. To be fair, that was what you were here for, for football. You weren't exactly expecting to fall in love, certainly not this early in your move.

Another week meant another round of training and it was definitely something you could get used to. You were starting to get comfortable around the other girls, making small talk with them during your breaks and conversing during partner or gym work. But it wasn't the same as back at home. Being about to talk with your teammates a million words a minute in your mother tongue was something you deeply missed. You missed the feeling of already having established relationships with your teammates. You never really gave it a second thought that a new beginning meant starting off being alone. It didn't phase you at first with your first few training sessions, but it then quickly became lonesome. You soon realised that you didn't mind being on your own, what you did mind was no one really understanding you.

Sure you spoke both Italian and English, to a near fluent level, but being able to connect with people in a manner that you felt comfortable in didn't really exist.

And that's when it clicked. That's why you were so enthusiastic to teach the striker when she had asked you at that coffee shop. That's why you were willing to put yourself in a position you wouldn't otherwise put yourself in and be more open. That's why you felt that emptiness.

The girl had seen right through to your heart and saw your pain before it even became clear to you. She didn't just want to learn the language because of her culture. She saw that you were lonely, extending out an olive branch to you to get to know you. She was the only one out of the entire squad who actually made an effort to get to know you and it was only now as you lay in your bed staring at the ceiling that you realised that.

Truth is, Alessia had been through a similar experience herself. Having been sent off to UNC at the ripe age of 18, she knew what it was like to be in an unfamiliar country before, she knew what it was like to be away from home.

On your way to training, you got a text from Alessia, pulling your phone out once you had parked your car outside the building.

alessia ⭐️ [6:58]: hey [y/n]

alessia ⭐️ [6:58]: im not gonna be able to make it to training today :((

[y/n] 🦋 [7:03]: hey alessia

[y/n] 🦋 [7:03]: everything okay?

alessia ⭐️ [7:03]: yea

alessia ⭐️ [7:03]: just feeling a bit nauseous this morning 🥺

alessia ⭐️ [7:04]: im sorry

alessia ⭐️ [7:04]: could you tell jonas and the girls

[y/n] 🦋 [7:04]: yea sure :))

[y/n] 🦋 [7:04]: are we still on for tonight?

alessia ⭐️ [7:04]: umm maybe depends how i feel sorry 🥺

[y/n] 🦋 [7:04]: okay stella

[y/n] 🦋 [7:04]: feel better alright?

[y/n] 🦋 [7:05]: ill text you after training to check on you

alessia ⭐️ [7:05]: thanks xx

You slid your phone into your pocket and walked into the building, finally taking the right turns and making your way to where the rest of the team was. It was weird being there without the blonde, she lit up the entire room when she was there, and because of it, it was eerily quiet. The weather didn't really help that, with it being cold and rainy, but still, it was oddly uncomfortable.

You searched for Jonas, finding him in his office, knocking on his door you entered.

"Hey [y/n]. How are things?" The Swede asked with a big smile.

"Uh.. good yeah. I came to tell you that Alessia won't be coming to training, she's not feeling too well." You admitted quietly, your coach taking note of your dampened mood by this.

"Is everything alright?" He questioned, hoping that whatever it is, isn't too serious.

"Yeah.. she said she has really bad nausea. I plan on checking in on her later today."

"That's good.. I'll see you on the pitch then?"

You gave him and nod and waved goodbye before closing his door shut.

Exiting the building pretty much miliseconds after training had ended, you retrieved your phone from your kitbag, opening up WhatsApp.

[y/n] 🦋 [14:00]: hey stella

[y/n] 🦋 [14:00]: how are you feeling?

No response, not even a read.

[y/n] 🦋 [14:05]: alessia?

[y/n] 🦋 [14:05]: everything okay?

Still nothing. You sat in your car confused, trying to rack your brain for any reason why she might not be answering. Appointments? No. Plans with friends? Possibly. But she felt sick this morning, she wouldn't want to go out, right? You decided it would be best to visit her flat, to make sure everything was alright.

You drove to the blonde's flat after training, in a bit more of a rush than you probably should've, hoping that she was feeling better considering she didn't reply to your texts. You walked up to the door, trying to peak through her glazed windows for any signs of life, next trying her letter slot, peaking through and seeing that all of the lights were off. Her Mercedes was still in the driveway so she couldn't be far.

You began searching around her front door for any sign of a spare key, checking in bushes, under her door mat, and finally finding it in one of her flower pots. You shook your head, unimpressed at how easy it was for you to find it, making a note to tell her to find a better hiding place for it. You quietly unlocked the front door, taking your shoes off and closing it shut behind you.

"Alessia? Sei a casa?" [Are you home?]

You quietly padded through her flat, trying to locate where her bedroom was, finally finding it once you reached upstairs. You carefully cracked the door open to see the blonde curled up in a ball on her queen-sized bed, a pillow in her arms, and a grey jumper consuming her torso. She looked absolutely adorable. Your hand came to delicately brush the hairs our of the girl's face, seeing a bit of drool coming out of her mouth.

"Stella.. hey.." You gave her a light shake, watching as she stirred a bit before fluttering her eyes open.

"[y/n]?" The striker asked, recognising the warmth of your accent.

"You alright?" You asked lightly, stroking her cheek with your fingers.

"Y-Yeah.." She mumbled, her face leaning into your touch.

"Sorry for barging in.. I just wanted to make sure you were alive.. especially since I didn't get a text back.." You admitted, seeing as the young girl below you began to pout.

"I'm sorry.. I must've slept through them.." She apologised, grabbing the hand near her face and hiding behind it.

"No no.. it's okay Alessia.. I just got worried, that was all.." You reassured, feeling her cheek heat up.

"I-I can leave if you want. We can reschedule your lessons for another time if you still feel sick." You continued, not wanting to overstay your visit.

"No, it's fine!" She gripped around your hand tighter, removing her face from behind it. "I think that nap really helped.. it's what I usually do when I feel like this anyway.."

You smiled at her, seeing her become a bit flustered now that she was fully awake. "I'll go wait downstairs for you. Take your time, stella." You gave her one last squeeze, before making your exit. Walking downstairs to her living room, you allowed yourself time to admire her decor, glancing at the plants scattered around her house and occasional football memorabilia displayed either on the walls or on tables.

You couldn't help but get distracted by her dirtied Euros jersey that was hung up in a frame, with her golden medal dangling in front of it. 'Wow' you thought, she really is a big deal, huh?

"Euros final that.." A voice came from behind, turning to face the source.

"..first time in England history." The blonde smiled proudly as she walked over to you, standing beside you to admire it.

"I would've stayed to watch it but we were already back home at that point. I'm sure it was amazing."

"It was." She happily hummed.

Both of you made your way to her kitchen, the younger girl grabbing your wrist, which in many cases you would've resisted instantly rather than turn to putty in her grasp, allowing her to guide you over to one of the stools by the kitchen island.

"Posso portarti qualcosa da bere? Caffè?" [Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee?] The blonde bit her lip as she held onto the cupboard, waiting for your response.

You lifted your head up from looking at your hands, blushing a bit as you weren't expecting her to speak in your native tongue when offering.

"Uh- sì! Sarrebbe fantastico, grazie." [Yes! That would be great, thanks.]

"E un poco di latte troppo! Grazie Stella!" [And a little milk too! Thanks star!]

Alessia prepared your drinks, turning around and handing you yours when she was done.

"Questo è perfetto!" [This is perfect!] You announced, swallowing more of the drink satisfied. The striker all but blushing and hiding behind her mug as she watched you take more sips.

"Right, so I was thinking.. that maybe in the next few weeks we could try watching some films in Italian. We can start off simple with like Pixar films or something with Italian dubs.. if you'd like.."

"Like Luca..?" The younger girl's eyes lit up, her hand absentmindedly reaching for your own as she sat across from you at the kitchen island.

"Yeah.." You sighed, enjoying seeing a spark of joy shoot through her.

".. actually that might be one of the best ones to choose from." You sent her back a smile, not even noticing the soft pads of her fingers trailing across the backs of your hands.

The two of you continued to chat back and forth, mostly in English but partly in Italian which made your heart happy. The effort that the blonde went through to master the words that she had been learning, pronunciation-wise and meaning-wise, was really paying off, now being able to hold small conversations even if she had to stop and ask what certain words were in Italian.

"Come si dice.. stadium?" [How do you say..] She asked mid-conversation.

"Ah.. stadio.."

"Oh.. durante l'Euros abbiamo vinto contro Germania a stadio di Wembley, è stato incredibile." [During the Euros we wont against Germany at Wembley Stadium, it was amazing.] She blushed, reminising on the memories had on that day.

"Sembra incredibile. Vorrei essere lì con te." [It sounds amazing. I wish I was there.] You sighed, your fingers now intertwining with her own across the cold marble of the kitchen island.

The conversation continued, flicking between different desired subjects that the blonde was interested in. Your hands staying laced together, never looking away from one another and smiling all the way. It felt so natural, it felt right.

Your heart fluttered the more her Italian accent formed, it almost sounding natural when she spoke at a normal speed without slip ups. It was infectious to hear and it never dawned on you until now on how sexy an Italian accent can actually be.

"-tutto bene?" [-everything okay?] She paused from her original thought, noticing that your eyes were glazing over.

"Sì! Stai andando alla grande, Continua." [Yeah! You're doing great. Keep going.] You praised, seeing the strike blush and give your hand a little squeeze.

I need to stop staring off at her like that. I'm supposed to be teaching her not getting distracted by her.

The striker guided you over to the front door, her hand delicately rubbing up and down your arm.

"You coming to training tomorrow?" You asked with a smile.

"Yeah.. definitely." She nodded, blushing when she noticed how much you cared about her absence.

"Good." You hummed.

"Oh- uh.. by the way.. you need to hide your spare key better." You removed the extra set from your pocket, placing it in her palm. "..somebody might just walk in uninvited.." You raised your brows suggestively, witnessing the blonde blush more.

"Cheers.." The younger girl giggled, watching as you slowly exited her flat.

"Ci vediamo domani, Stella." [See you tomorrow, star.] You began walking down her pavement before you felt a hand grab at your wrist.

Alessia pulled you back towards herself, pulling you into a hug. At first, you weren't sure what was happening but you quickly accepted the hug and hugged the blonde back.

"Thank you.." She sighed, inhaling the scent of your hoodie as she hugged you tighter.

"..thank you for checking in on me.. it means a lot." She continued, her face nuzzling into the material.

"Of course, it's the least I can do." You chuckled, rubbing your hand up and down her back before pulling back slightly to place two kisses on her cheeks, freezing in your tracks when you realised that you'd done it again.

"Sorry.. I should really stop that.." You admitted embarrassed as your hands rested on her waist, giving her an apologetic squeeze.

"No, it's fine.." Her hand came to tilt your face back towards hers, copying the same gesture that you did to her, pressing a feather-light kiss on each of your cheeks.

"..there.. even." She murmured, blushing harder when she noticed you swallowing hard.

There was an awkward silence that crept in after your flirty exchange, both of your eyes flicking between each other's lips and pupils, never able to settle on one of them for more than a few seconds.

Alessia was the first to break the silence, gaining your attention as she rubbed her thumbs in circles on your shoulders. "Lessons tomorrow yeah?"

"Mhm." You pursed your lips together, nodding in response.

"Mine or yours?"

"Whatever's easiest for you." You hummed, noticing that the striker wasn't going to remove her hands from your shoulders anytime soon. Not that you minded, to be fair your hands weren't exactly planning on leaving her waist anytime soon either and it was clear she didn't mind.

Her hands began to fidget with the collar of your hoodie, licking her lips as her eyes lingered around your neck. "I can come round yours, follow you home after training." She mumbled back, focused on your choice of clothing and the softness of the material.

You let out a shaky sigh, trying to not make it obvious that her actions were clearly affecting you. "Y-Yeah that works.." Giving her a squeeze on her hips, you brought her eyes back up to yours, her crystal blue eyes looking deep into your soul.

"Good." She bit her lip, giving you a light pat on your chest before pulling away, your fingers lingering on her sides until she was too far away to reach. Already missing the feeling of the blonde in your grip and the soft weight of her hands on your shoulders.

"Tomorrow at yours then." She restated the obvious, her mind clearly not able to form new thoughts as she was a bit flustered.

"Mhm. I look forward to it." You let slip out, seeing how the blonde's pupils dilated at your words.

"Me too." She replied boldly, not having missed your boldness either.

"Ciao Stella." [Bye, star.] You smiled, not really sure what else to say as anxiety crept up your throat.

"Ciao, [y/n]." [Bye.] Alessia waved, closing the door as you stepped into your car.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎← part i ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎part iii →

[raainberry]

Don’t Go

« silly series - 2 »

Yeji x gn!reader

Fluff

synopsis - just Yeji being a little clingy and a little tease

wordcount - 735

T/W - the gym (?)

A/N - im starting something called silly series for random fluff drabbles. im willing to write about any idol for these so if you have a request feel free to send an ask, let’s all be silly together🤭 and yes its another yeji fluff, i saw a tiktok what else was i supposed to do, im just a girl

As soon as the ending credits started rolling, you sat yourself up, accidentally dragging your girlfriend along as she had been resting her head on your shoulder.

Your own forgetfulness amused you, but Yeji whined at the sudden movement. She was too comfortable, and this was too disruptive and inconvenient for a lazy day.

“I’m sorry.” You giggled. “But I really have to go to the gym, Yeji.”

“No, you don’t. Just one more episode, come on!” She bartered, clinging onto your shirt.

“That’s what you said for the last three, I really have to go now or else there’ll be too many people.” You declined, but it really was against your will.

She sighed, falling back into the place you’d been occupying on this couch. It didn’t feel as comfortable as it did when you were by her side.

You were used to her sulking, but it didn’t mean it became less amusing to watch. So you did chuckle before leaning down to kiss her. Thankfully she accepted your advance, allowing you to taste the strawberry milk that you’d just shared on those soft and sweet lips of hers.

“If I tell you not to go, will you not go?” She pouted at you, cupping your cheeks and looking into your eyes as she knew you rarely could say no to her that way.

“Nice try, but it won’t work this time.” You said, leaving a kiss on her forehead before running to grab your bag from the bedroom.

If you hadn’t, you were sure she’d have gotten you to lay back down in that blanket in no time. She’s done it more than you could count. You would have canceled today too, if only it wasn’t becoming critical. Your personal coach wasn’t too happy lately, and in good reason…

So, no, you weren’t going to give in today.

Although, you almost did when you heard her whining again from the couch.

“Y/n, don’t go!” Her voice echoed through your small studio apartment.

“Yeji, how else am I gonna look this good for you?” You answered, your laughter grabbing her attention as you made your way over to your shoes.

She stayed silent for a few seconds, pondering over your question. You felt her eyes all over you, and that’s how she decided it was worth the sacrifice.

Getting to admire a few of your defined muscles in exchange for a couple hours without you suddenly seemed like the bargain of the century.

“Fine, go.”

“Are you sure?” You giggled, tightening your laces.

“Just go.” She said, playfully shrugging you off. “But I won’t be here when you get back.”

She will. She just needed to tease you back, or else it wasn’t fair nor fun.

“Wait, actually?” You asked, already sad at the thought. You weren’t going to be able to see her for a few days after today, you didn’t want to say goodbye right away.

Yeji stayed silent, focusing on the TV to hold herself back from laughing. She could see you debating it all over again with yourself from the corner of her eye and it amused her. You tried not to show it, but it was obvious she was your biggest weakness.

Oh, how she loved it. It made her feel so loved. However, she didn’t like seeing you all worked up, so she eventually turned back to you.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby, relax.” She reassured you, seeing your features lighten up almost immediately.

“Mean.” You smiled, grabbing your bag from the floor.

“You love me!” She bragged as you made your way towards the door.

“I do, I love you so much.” You admitted over your shoulder.

You grabbed the handle and opened the front door before stopping in your tracks. Why didn’t she say it back?

You turned to face her, and found her smiling not so innocently, letting you know she was teasing you again.

“I love you too!” She said, making a heart with her hands over her own.

That got your heart racing among the warmth in your chest, and if that wasn’t enough, it pulled a laugh out of you as well. You found yourself hoping you made her as happy as she made you, although she’d assured you of it countless times by now.

You couldn’t help but not believe it at times, it felt surreal to have her the way she allowed you to. You probably won’t ever really believe it, but it was fine to you as long as it was true.

As long as that grin she sent you was genuine, you’ll forever have a reason to smile.

“I’ll be quick, I promise, see you later!”

[skatingbi]

WELCOME TO PART 3 OF MY SANJI WITH HETEROCHROMIA SERIES!!!!

Oh my god. Yall are insane. 700+ Notes for part one of this series alone is crazy (Crazy? I was- *gets shot*). So heres part 3. I'll probably have to publish all this onto AO3 soon bc shits getting outta hand, but I like posting on this silly little site so I'll still be posting on here.

Uhhh this was posted WAY later than I anticipated bc i had a gnarly depressive episode and had to enroll into uni, but there aint no way id abandon this series, its too fun and i love experimenting with my baby writing style as i call it.

Okay thats it, just thank u all sm for enjoying my silly little series :) u guys are so sweet!!

P.S. Constructive criticism is OKAY! I havent written fanfic in like...10 years so since middle school. Im a baby at this and I understand if I may have several errors so pls lemme know if theres grammar mistakes!

Sanji With Heterochromia Series Part 3 below 🔻

Sanji lied. He does like the idiot. More than he's willing to admit. A few days after their conversation, Zoro distances himself. It leaves a nasty feeling in his gut similar to nausea but different from actually wanting to throw up. It feels apprehensive. He's waiting for something, but he doesn't know what yet. Sanji hates it. He hates how confused he is and how much he actually wants Zoro to touch him again. He hates the burning linger of scarred knuckles on his cheekbone that follows him wherever he goes.

He hates these feelings because he never learned how to really process them. He doesn't know if he has to blame himself, his shitty excuse of a father, or Zeff. Well, maybe not Zeff. The old man had enough on his plate while raising him as it was. Sanji decides to blame it on Judge because honestly, the root of most of his issues stems from that shitty old man anyway. Placing the blame on someone does little to actually help, but it's a distraction from his growing realization of how much he cares for Zoro.

He cares for Zoro. No, he holds an unreasonable amount of affection for the scarred swordsman that haunts his thoughts now more than ever. Fuck questioning sexuality when it's undeniable that he's absolutely whipped for the big idiot. Theres no room for denial anymore, not when his touch had become branded across Sanji's skin for the foreseeable future.

Stress cooking does little to soothe him and it's the same with smoking. At least Luffy gets to enjoy snacks to his hearts content. Its the little things, he tries to tell himself. He also reflects on his conversation with Zoro. How he honestly felt afraid of what he felt when the swordsman confronted him. He felt afraid of someone genuinely caring for his emotional wellbeing. He's anxious over what that means, what it would do to him if Zoro truely meant what he said. All the things voiced about him and the implications that he's...handsome in the eyes of Zoro.

Sanji is emotional. It comes with him being sentimental as well. He's the black sheep of his biological family in every way. He loved too hard, and got hurt too fast. He loved even when it ended in betrayal. Secretly, he loves unconditionally. What would happen if he loved Zoro like that, and what if it already happened and he's too late to stop it? Would Zoro hurt him just like everyone else has? Would he be pushed away eventually after the thrill of their theoretical short lived relationship?

It keeps him up at night, that conversation replaying in his head as he stares at Zoro's sleeping silhouette. He falls asleep to his breathing, echoing throughout the room over everyone else's breath and snores. He wakes up every morning before the sun greets him and pretends nothing happened in his dreams where Zoro's gentle touch and admiration lingers softly over his mind.

Zoro knows. Well, not exactly. He's not a mind reader like how Luffy seems to be, but he knows that distancing himself from Sanji is actually doing the opposite of what he thought it would do. At this point, the swordsman isnt sure where to go from here.

Sanji's actions contradict his words. Sanji stares at Zoro. Not so much that it's s uncomfortable but it's enough to be noticeable. Sometimes he swears he can see Sanji's eyes dart across his face and down to his lips before looking away. It's confusing. Didnt Sanji hate Zoro's advances towards him? Because thats what they were in hindsight.

Zoro was unconciously flirting with the cook in his own weird way. And yeah, he's a little stupid for not realizing the implications behind his actions at first, but it all started as genuine curiosity. He didnt mean for it to affect their rivalry. Now, he's not sure where to go from here.

It's driven him between a rock and a hard place and unforfunately for him, Nami decides to intervene again. This time, Nami drags Zoro to her and Robin's shared room on the Sunny for privacy and possibly interrogation. He's certain that this time he wont be able to escape. Unfortunate.

"Okay, so heres how this is gonna go," Zoro and Nami are now seated across from each other, where theres two beds and enough room for decent sized dressers on each side. Zoro sits on what he assums is Robin's bed with his arms crossed, "You will tell me everything- And i mean it! I will know if youre lying -and I will help you. Im sick and tired of you both being miserable and gay! It's giving everyone second hand embaressment." She demands, narrowing her eyes with a challenge for Zoro to protest or say no.

Zoro is smart enough to know what is and isn't a losing battle. This is one of those. Nami can be terrifyingly persistent once she sets her mind on something, and today it seems to be resolving the weird and awkward tension between him and Sanji. The swordsman resigns himself to his fate quickly and prepares himself to be trapped here on Robin's bed for the foreseeable future.

"Fine witch," Zoro sighs, "But if you tell anyone I will not be responsible for my actions." He huffs out in acceptance for his inevitable interrogation.

"Oh please like that'll actually scare me. Plus besties never snitch." Nami rolls her eyes. She gets comfortable on her bed and look at zoro expectantly. He rolls his eyes and relaxes his posture a bit.

Zoro starts talking, beginning with the first instance of his realization of Sanji having dual colored eyes, leaving out a lot of "unimportant" details. He mentions the second, and the third instance, and their conversation from a few days ago and how he tried to respect Sanji's establishment of a boundary and how he's confused now that Sanji stares at him. Nami listens with her chin resting on her fist and nodding along the way, surprisingly not interrupting once. He finishes speaking and he knows his face is red with embaressment, but he feigns nonchalance and waits for Nami's input.

"Zoro," Nami sighs, "Youre the dumbest bitch I know." She says while giving the man a look of sympathy, but not one that actually means it. More like the look of someone who is so incredibly done with your shit that they have no choice but to tell you so.

"What the fuck, Nami!? Im not dumb!" The swordsman retorts loudly.

"Anyways," his best friend ignores his arguing in favor of getting to the task at hand, "Luckily, this is fixable. For making the entire crew feel awkward for two weeks, I'm adding a 200 percent tax increase to your debt." She smiles mischeviously, and thats when Zoro realizes that one, he's never getting out of debt, and two, he's been forced to accept Nami's help in unfucking up his unconcious attempts to flirt with Sanji.

"First order of business is that you have absolutely no game." Nami begins with a shit eating grin to match the absolutely insulting statement. Zoro briefly reconsiders their friendship.

"Shut the fuck up I obviously do." He rolls his eyes. Nami gives him the look. The one where her eyebrows are raised and her chin is tilted down slightly, matching the frown. It's that look she makes when she's trying to say 'Are you sure?' or 'Reconsider what you just said.' and it grates at Zoro's already increasing agitation.

He decides not to entertain her with a reply.

"Anyway," Nami sighs, massaging the space between her eyes with her thumb and forefinger to stave off a growing headache, "Im teaching you how to flirt. No, you cannot work out in front of Sanji- dont give me that look you muscle brained idiot!" She says while looking at Zoro's ever increasing looks of annoyance and audacity, because first of all, no he definitely was not going to do that, and second of all, it could hypothetically work. Probably.

"Fine," He huffs. He'll let the witch do whatever. It's not like theres anyone else he can talk to on the ship about this anyway, "No promises that I'll actually do what you tell me."

"Fucking- oh my god why am I friends with you?!" Nami complains before flopping down on her bed, groaning loudly at Zoro's malicious cooperation. Zoro basks in the momentary power he has in this situation.

For the next few hours, Nami allows Zoro to stay in the womens quarters for the sole purpose of learning how to actually flirt. He's not sure if shes a reliable source, being a lesbian and also having a girlfriend already, but if he voiced this opinion out loud the redhead would probably kick him out. He only restrains himself because this room is the only one so far where he feels the least amount of awkwardness regarding his situation with Sanji.

Robin stops by every now and then and gives him a smile. It doesnt make him feel very comfortable but it's the thought that counts. She doesnt say anything about him being there, anyway. He makes an effort to at least not lay on the bed he's sitting on, though. He may be lazy but he does hold enough respect for the women in the crew to not fuck with their shared safe space.

Suddenly, it's the evening and dinner is around the corner. Nami shoves a barely enlightened mossy swordsman out of the womens bedroom to finally be free of that headache. Also known as a crash course to flirting with your rival/friend/whatever the fuck else they got going on.

Zoro makes his way to the gallery, taking his time to look out and observe the oncoming sunset that bathes the sky in shades of pink, orange, blue, and yellow. It would be a pretty sight to fall asleep to, he thinks, but the cook would kick his ass off the ship if he decides to sleep through dinner again.

Entering the gallery, everyone except Nami is already there. She's right behind him a second later and taking her seat at the kitchen table.

Numerous conversations are heard as food is served. Franky and Usopp are wildly talking about different types of projectiles the sunny could use, Nami and robin are talking amongst each other in low voices, giggling in between sentences. Chopper and luffy are laughing together, and Zoro goes to sit next to luffy like he usually does. Just as he sits down, the cook lands a kick to his mid back, making Zoro scowl.

"The fucks that for!?"

Sanji rolls his eyes while placing plates of food down for the crew, "For being late, dumbass."

"Nami is late too!"

"And? She'd never be late on purpose, Marimo." as Sanji speaks, he dodges the hilt of Zoro's sword to his side instinctively and has the audacity to give a cheeky grin.

Dinner passes by normally. Everyone's loud conversations meld together gradually and soon everyone except Sanji and Zoro leave. Zoro takes his usual spot beside the cook, drying dishes and leaving them on a towel afterwards so they can both put them away.

Zoro has half the mind to bring up Sanji's staring, but decides against it. It leaves the air silent, neither him nor Sanji speaking up as they finish their side work for the night. Even then, Zoro's unable to speak when Sanji immediately leaves afterwards without a word.

The kitchen feels empty without their bickering, and Zoro is determined to bring that life back into it. He just needs to figure out how.

Despite Nami's advice, Zoro has an idea. If the idiot cook doesnt see what he sees (His pretty face first of all, but Zoro thinks of his strength too. How Sanji easiely brushes off conflict like it's nothing despite the injuries that'll heal far faster than his own), then he'll make him see it. Frilly words never were Zoro's style, anyways.

One night before they all go to sleep and Zoro takes night watch, he corners the blond in the bathroom. Nami would probably be kicking his ass because of his timing, but a mirror is needed for his plan to work and the bathroom is the only place with one other than the women's bedroom.

When Zoro enters, Sanji turns to look at him before going back to washing his hair, his back towards Zoro. "Leave me alone, Moss, I'm im not in the fuckin mood," He grumbles to Zoro, who stands there waiting for Sanji to stop talking.

"Nope, I need a mirror for this and for you to listen for five minutes." Zoro replies, and when Sanji turns to argue his protests are gone from his lips when he sees a look of determination. Confused, annoyed, and also curious, Sanji doesn't reply.

Zoro walks up to Sanji until he's standing right behind him. The swordsman moves to kneel so they're relatively at the same height, but the stool makes Sanji slightly taller as he sits there and eyes Zoro warily.

"Whats going on with you, Moss? I'm trying to wash my hair." Sanji says, and Zoro can tell an insult dies on his tongue when he places his hands on Sanji's shoulders.

Zoro turns Sanji in front of the mirrior in the bathroom, the stool Sanji is seated on creaking lightly and scratching against the tile. Sanji remains speechless, still unable to brush off Zoro's palms on his bare shoulders like how he'd usually do.

"Tell me what you see, cook" He says, uncharacteristically soft underneath the edge his voice always seems to have. Sanji flinches when the swordsman's calloused hands tuck his frings behind his ear, displaying his face to them both.

"What the hell is up with you? Did Luffy hit your head too hard?" Sanji furrows his eyebrows at the mirror and looks at Zoro. Zoro huffs and rolls his eyes.

"Just tell me what you see about yourself, shit cook, I'll leave ya alone after or whatever." He grumbles back, the baritone of his voice vibrates against Sanji's back. It reminds him of Zoro's compliment, his face too close to his while they stand on the deck of the Sunny just days ago. He chooses to ignore how it makes him shiver.

He looks at himself in the mirror, and his first instinct is to look away. Zoro, being the perceptive bastard that he is, notices and squeezes his shoulders in a way thats strangely reassuring.

"It doesnt have to be fancy, cook, I know you like to use big words 'n shit so don't make your brain fuckin explode." Sanji bristles a bit at that but bites back a nasty insult so he can entertain Zoro's weird exercise on his own self reflection.

In the mirror he always sees his mom at first, but with both eyes uncovered and his hair pushed back for once, he sees himself. The first thing he sees is his eyebrows and eyes. He decides not to bring up his eyebrows.

"Well, for your information I see my eyes, but you already know that."

Zoro stays silent, and Sanji shuffles in his seat. He's suddenly aware he was literally in the middle of rinsing his hair of shampoo a few minutes ago and the entire situation is both awkward and uncharacteristic of Zoro in multiple ways. It's out of character, and he should have kicked out the moss ball when he had the chance, but now in the too small bathroom of the Sunny he feels like it's only him and Zoro. It leaves a weightless feeling in his chest, settling in with the creeping anxiety of looking at his own reflection. The contrasting feelings make him hesitate before he speaks.

"I see.." He hesitates, not knowing exactly what Zoro is getting from this or what he wants to hear, "My eyebrows, I guess. Wait, you've never seen both at once." Sanji chuckles at that, because his eyebrows are certainly something. The curl points in the same direction, but it's unnoticeable with how he wears his hair.

"Yeah, they're weird as fuck." Zoro mumbles, and the blond has to laugh or else the swordsman's voice would get to his head.

"Okay, I also see freckles. Those are new. Only started showing up when I joined you all." And Sanji now notices how the freckles cluster on the bridge of his nose, his cheekbones, and his shoulders. They're scattered everywhere else on his body.

Sanji starts to realize the point of Zoro's questioning now. He looks at the fogged mirror, just visible enough to notice how his blush not only spreads across his cheeks but also down his neck. Embarrassing. This whole situation is embarrassing not only because of where they are but also because he's realizing that Zoro is trying to make a point that is too close to unearthing his insecurities. He would have expected this from Luffy, but sometimes he forgets how Zoro's intelligence is masked behind his swordsmanship and how much he sleeps during the day.

And he's naked, but honestly thats the least of his problems at the moment.

"I see my hair, I guess?" Sanji tries to only focus on his face. Its not easier, but it also sets up a mental boundary. Zoro hums, looking at Sanji through the mirror. Sanji hesitates before speaking again, "My hair is actually wavy," He thinks about his mom's wavy blonde hair, and how he always thought it looked pretty even before she passed, "Its damaged, though. Straightened to hell and back with one of those hot combs."

Sanji thinks back to the hot combs. They were old as shit, the kind that needed to be heated up with a flame. The memories make him chuckle a bit, and Zoro smiles back. The same smile he wore when they sparred on the deck, with his dimples visible yet again to confirm to Sanji that he does have them.

His smile makes his heart skip a beat, like drums he'd hear in one of those old instrumental CDs he kept in his room as a kid. Before he has the chance to back away, to push Zoro out the door and forget this ever happened, Zoro straightens his back again.

He turns in his stool to look up at Zoro and he's not sure what the swordsman sees right now, but he's afraid to ask as his gaze is soft. So damn soft as he looks at him and his hand reaches again to pull his hair hair back over his eye like it was before. Stringy strands of heat damaged locks fall back into place.

Then he leaves. He just...leaves. The damn idiot just turns around and walks out the door like nothing even happened.

Thats the second time this has happened yet the first where Sanji is the one on the receiving end of it, and it makes him grab his towel to bunch it up in his fists and let out a scream into it as he processes everything. He processes how he was forced to notice how Zoro looked at him, and it was Zoro's own weird fucking way of saying "You're beautiful".

"He's so fucking ridiculous oh my god.." Sanji mumbles into the towel. His hair routine is officially long forgotten.

[coolaboutlucy]

Love story au: you and Abby have a sort of forbidden secret romance 💛 takes place during medieval time.

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙨 | 𝙖. 𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣

pairing: abby anderson x afab!reader

tags: (sorta modernized!) shakespearean english, no smut, abbys father is mentioned, reader lowkey living that rapunzel lifestyle but like not rlly. 😭🙏, abby has a bow and arrow, im still terrible at tagging, so i probably missed some stuff??

a/n: honestly, i rlly only chose this song for this fic bc i was watching berlin while writing this and lowk.. i figured that it was fitting! honestly this prompt was super fun to do!!! i absolutely loved doing this, and i promise i will finish out my requests soon. 😭🙏 there’s still two more i have to start. uploads might be slow next week since i have some tests at school but ill def still try to be active here. ^^

You weren’t supposed to see each other, it was forbidden. Ever since your families began to quarrel, they had kept you held up in your room for seemingly no reason at all. Your father often fought with Abby’s, and they’d go extreme lengths to show their superiority, whether it be trading and buying the most expensive things they could, draping their daughters and significant other in the finest silks, or flat out going toe-to-toe with each other. Of course, you had already been seeing her secretly beforehand, and she showed you things you weren’t ever gonna be allowed to see. Fighting tournaments, erotic literature, the finest alcoholic beverages her kingdom had to offer, and how it felt to rebel. You loved doing these things with her.

These days, you’d been confined to the stone walls of your room, cold floors, and whatever other luxuries your father decided to drape you in. You were only allowed outside for a few minutes, or whatever your father allowed. It happened to be 45 minutes today. During this time you and Abby meet up secretly. Today, you found yourself running through the thick forest behind your castle. You were out of breath and your mouth went dry, but there she was. Her long braid would’ve been noticeable from any distance. You catch your breath and you stand up straight. “Abby.” You say with a smile. She turns to you with a smile, holding her bow and arrow. “Wherefore doth thee at each moment come running to see me? What is the reason behind thy eag'rness to seeth me?” The curiosity in her tone was playful. “I couldn’t possibly miss out on seeing thee. I'm willing to wend to most wondrous lengths just to beest with thee, coequal if 't be true t means running a million miles. You know that I can't be outside f'r long these days, so I want to make it count.” You admit as your smile grows. Abby chuckles. “Nobodys ever did like me so much to running to me ev'ryday. Concluded, be it, follow me. I want to showeth thee something, and I think you’d plaited it.”

   Abby takes your hand and she leads you deeper into the forest. The flora of the forest was to die for this season. The beautiful greens, the flowers, the dew drops sliding off tree leaves, it was a sight that was just impossible to want to not see. But it was only something the two of you knew about. After some time, she stops by some trees. Attached to them were some targets. “I suppose thee haven’t forgotten that day we spent a few fortnights ago? Did thee say.. thee did want to see how valorous mine aim was, no?” Abby asked with a smile. You nod enthusiastically. “Oh, of course I’d want to see how well thee uses yond bow and arrow. You speak so highly of thy aim, I’m sure it’s better than any sirs in the entire kingdom.” Abby always found your enthusiasm cute. Her body felt warm and fuzzy, as stupid and cliche it sounds, but she always felt that way around you. She loved how alive you made her feel. She readies her bow and arrow, and you watch her. You observe her pulling the string back and being mindful of how much she does. She inhales and loses the arrow in the middle of her exhale. Dead center of the target! She turns to you with a smile as your face lights up equally as bright.

   She was amazing! God, you’ve seen men competing for the other princesses hands in marriage (thanks to Abby), but you wanted her to do this for you when your time came. “That wast most wondrous! Oh my gosh, thee should it again. I want to see you do it again!” You say as you give her a face of pleading. She lets out a small chuckle before she turns to another target. This time, she decides to be flashy. She readies an arrow yet again, closing her eyes before she lets it loose. She opens her eyes to find that it had just nearly hit beneath the target. She shrugs her shoulders with a small smile. “Well, art thee did impress, princess?” She asks as she goes to collect her arrows. You turn to her with a small smile. “Of course I’m impressed.  Thee nev'r faileth to impresseth me, Abigail.” “That’s the second timeth you’ve hath called me that. I still rememb'r the first liketh it’s yest'rday.” Abby’s cheeks were dusted in a pink blush as she remembered that day you’d asked her out. All loopy from your drinking, your drunken rambling had resulted in you asking her out. “I rememb'r that day fondly. It was the day I hath asked thee out.” You reply in a soft tone almost as if you were falling in love with her all over again. But you couldn’t help it. This woman was timeless, and she never failed to take your breath away no matter what she did. Whether it be simple housework, gardening, or using that bow and arrow. Every aspect of Abby was attractive. Once all her arrows had been collected, she walks back over to you. She grabs your hands, her thumb gently grazing your knuckles as she looks in your eyes. Your gaze meets hers. She smiles, you look away with a giggle. She turns you back to face her. “I loveth thee. For many nights, I’ve hadst these dreams. Those dreams beshrew mine own mind.  All of those were about thee. Well, us.  Running hence. Being joyous. Not having to encave our love.” Her voice was soft. Her tone was sincere.

   Her gaze softened. One hand comes to softly hold your face. You melt. You couldn’t stop the words from spilling out of your mouth now. “I want to be with thee. I’m not restful of hiding. I want to run in the lush gardens, waketh to a sleep chamber that isn’t bitter cold, and stay out with thee for howev'r long mine own heart desires.” You smile at her and she smiles back. Slowly, her eyes become half lidded and she moves closer to you. “Run away with me, princess.” She whispered before she softly pressed her lips to yours. She pulled away for a moment to see if you were okay with it, but when you pulled her right back in, it solidified that you were more than okay with this. Her arms wrap around your waist, and yours find solace around her neck. This moment felt surreal. Being surrounded by forest, her hands on your body, the humming sound of cicadas and whatever else was in the forest, and the sounds of her soft, quiet moans filled your ears and burned in your memory. While you’re kissing her, you remember its way past the time you should’ve returned. You pull away. “Goodness, it’s getting late. We shall meet. Here, before sundown. I expect to see thee waiting for me here.” You say sweetly but in a rushed manner. She crosses her arms, then closing her eyes as she gives you a confirming nod before she bids you farewell. “I’ll see you soon, princess.” She says as she watches you walk off, then turning to head towards her own castle. This was the start of living freely, not confined by the restraints of parents.

[matan4il]

hi quick question: what do u know about the lavender ai post that's circulating? i saw it on this fact checking blog i follow and they made it seem legit but im not convinced

Hi Nonnie!

Before I get into this specific subject, I just wanna tell you that for me personally, this war has been an eye opener about how little some "fact checking" sites are worth. I've read several articles on that type of site, which could have used some fact checking themselves. In some cases, they had author names attached to them, and when checking the authors out, it was easy to find that they were not free of bias themselves. So... yeah. Take "fact checking sites" with a grain of salt. Even journalists sometimes get it wrong, and they're held to higher standards, and have more personal accountability, than most "fact checking sites," not to mention that the latter often simply rely on a selection of journalistic sources, but sometimes without really taking into account which are reliable, and which aren't.

As for the lavender AI issue specifically, I heard it briefly referenced on the news, during a discussion panel, and it was brought up in the context of recent conspiracy theories about Israel. The panelists were so clear on how obviously false these all were, they didn't even really get into refuting any of them.

A bit like how, in the past, when watching panelists discussing antisemitic tropes reincarnated as anti-Israel lies, I saw them bring up the one claiming Israel set up a field hospital in Haiti after the earthquake in order to harvest organs, which is obviously a new version of "the Jews are bloodthirsty" without bothering to refute it, because to Israelis, it's evident that it's bullshit. Not only because we're aware that we're not actually those evil creatures, lusting for death and destruction, that the anti-Israel crowd likes to portray us as, but also because we know that the constant terrorist attacks here have made Israel a world leader in the field of emergency medicine (here's an example: even the antisemitic UN had to admit an IDF unit was the best medical emergency team in the world), so that's the actual reason we set up that field hospital, much like we use our experience to help others in basically every disaster around the world that's willing to accept aid from Israel (and sometimes we operate even in places like Syria, where technically, we're defined as an enemy state, so all of the aid had to be provided directly to private people, and while keeping their identity a secret, so their own government can't presecute them for receiving it).

Anyway, since the TV discussion didn't get into refuting what they clearly saw as an absurd, hateful lie, I went online in search of more info, and found that this news venturing into mainstream media happened in The Guardian, a British news source known for its anti-Israel bias, to the point where a female black, non-Jewish journalist of theirs felt the need to point it out all the way back in 2003, and in Nov 2023, a Jewish employee of theirs had published a personal piece about feeling unsafe there, and looking for another place of employment. But the source that The Guardian is quoting, is actually not a proper journalistic publication, it's an anti-Israel propaganda blog based magazine, which includes Israeli anti-Zionists and Palestinians, publishing in English since its audience is very much not Israelis despite claiming that they want to inspire change in Israel, and responsible for systematically vilifying the country and spreading lies about it.

If I, as an Israeli, thought that something was wrong with a system the IDF is using, and wanted to see real change in my army, I wouldn't go to a publication that isn't journalistic in nature, that doesn't publish in a local language, that most Israelis have never heard about, and that those who did, don't trust, because of its known anti-Israel reputation. That in itself makes me suspicious.

The IDF gave a statement in response to questions presented by The Guardian, based on the aforementioned piece. It's a bit long, but here are the main references to the claimed AI system Lavender (emphasis added by me):

Some of the claims portrayed in your questions are baseless in fact, while others reflect a flawed understanding of IDF directives and international law.

The process of identifying military targets in the IDF consists of various types of tools and methods, including information management tools, which are used in order to help the intelligence analysts to gather and optimally analyze the intelligence, obtained from a variety of sources. Contrary to claims, the IDF does not use an artificial intelligence system that identifies terrorist operatives or tries to predict whether a person is a terrorist. Information systems are merely tools for analysts in the target identification process. According to IDF directives, analysts must conduct independent examinations, in which they verify that the identified targets meet the relevant definitions in accordance with international law and additional restrictions stipulated in the IDF directives.

The “system” your questions refer to is not a system, but simply a database whose purpose is to cross-reference intelligence sources, in order to produce up-to-date layers of information on the military operatives of terrorist organizations. This is not a list of confirmed military operatives eligible to attack.

For each target, IDF procedures require conducting an individual assessment of the anticipated military advantage and collateral damage expected. Such assessments are not made categorically in relation to the approval of individual strikes. The assessment of the collateral damage expected from a strike is based on a variety of assessment methods and intelligence-gathering measures, in order to achieve the most accurate assessment possible, considering the relevant operational circumstances. The IDF does not carry out strikes when the expected collateral damage from the strike is excessive in relation to the military advantage. In accordance with the rules of international law, the assessment of the proportionality of a strike is conducted by the commanders on the basis of all the information available to them before the strike, and naturally not on the basis of its results in hindsight.

The IDF outright rejects the claim regarding any policy to kill tens of thousands of people in their homes.

Some things about the claims in that piece don't work out IMO. Like, the number of fatalities if indeed there's an AI system, which produced a list of 37,000 Hamas and PIJ terrorists, with an automatic green light to kill between 15 to 100 civilians per each, especially in the first months of the war, and even assuming they couldn't target them all during that period of time (we do know most Hamas units have been destroyed). There are about 1,500 terrorists in a Hamas battalion (source in Hebrew), and 4 are left in Rafah, so only about 6,000 Hamas terrorists are in the last area the IDF has not operated in yet. That would mean roughly 31,000 terrorists were accessible targets. Just for the sake of erring on the side of caution, let's assume 10 killed civilians per Hamas terrorist, instead of that piece's claimed 15-100 approved per target. This would produce somewhere around 341,000 people killed in the first months alone. Let's go even lower, let's say 5 civilians killed per terrorist instead of 15-100. That would mean 186,000 killed during those months. We are exactly 6 months into the war, and even Hamas' numbers (likely inflated) don't claim more than 33,000 as the total number of fatalities. The given numbers and directives in that so-called "article" just don't match the reality on the ground, but claim to explain it, and to prove that Israel is being callous with civilians' lives in Gaza.

I'll also add that the AI-based decision making described doesn't take into account the possible presence and harm to the lives of Israeli hostages held captive in Gaza. That's another thing that makes me doubt that piece, because the IDF commanders have repeatedly stated their commitment to bringing back all the hostages, and as many alive as possible, and Israeli soldiers more than once risked their own lives to get them out, whether it was living people, or the bodies of Israelis who deserve to get to be buried back home, with their loved ones there, as in tact as possible. This scenario only works if we assume the Israeli commanders and soldiers have no sentiment for the lives of their own kidnapped civilians.

I guess that's what the piece's aim is. To play on people's fears of AI determining whether people will live or die, and to paint Israel as an evil, unfeeling, bloodthirsty entity, capable of anything, including of the inhumanity of letting computers decide the fate of human beings. The ease and speed with which people believe this, and spread this notion, before anyone has verified that Lavender is anything other than a database, just like the IDF says, feels like a demonstration of how all antisemitic blood libels are spread.

I hope this helped!

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)