#but talking about my own personality and needing to frame it in a way that can be sold to some random person on the admissions committee...

[physalian]

Narrative Framing Devices

This is a long one…

A story need not be told chronologically, nor does it have to be only one layer deep. There’s a ton of different ways to frame your narrative, I’m just picking a couple today, some I thought worked and some I thought didn’t, and my personal favorite.

Most people think of framing devices in terms of time travel stories or fairytales, where it may start in the present or the future and work backwards, giving up the ending before telling how we all got here. Or by chopping up the chronology and letting the audience try to puzzle out the order.

There are also those that break the fourth wall, with the narrator beginning the story directly addressing the audience but never doing so again, or the narrator opening the story telling their own story to a present audience, so we’re the audience behind the fictional audience.

The other obligatory framing device is the time-skip, a la “6 years later” or “8 months later”. I’ve already talked about those. Or the preface/preamble/prologue that may spoil some important event later in the story, or is simply an important moment or montage of moments to catch the reader up on “how did we get here”. Shoutout to Castlevania for the most efficient pilot episode I have ever seen, with a 1 year timeskip.

Also honorable mention to the “A Life in the Day” montage from Magicians, speedrunning decades of a life together between two characters stuck in a Situation, maybe 60 years? Key moments between the two having a whole romance, with a kid and grandkids, over the course of one beautiful bit of soundtrack. One of the best episodes in the show, for a sequence that only lasted a little over 5 minutes.

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Story within a Story | Princess Bride, "Ember Island Players"

Best example I can think of, specifically the film, which is based on a book that already incepts itself. The movie opens with a regular kid being read the book The Princess Bride by his grandfather, and occasionally cutting between the kid’s reactions and the fantasy story with the actors.

There’s several moments where the grandfather either loses his place and rereads a scene that replays the same dialogue, or skips a scene in the “kissing book” because his grandson gets squirmy, and moments where the grandfather narrates over a couple montages.

Princess Bride is one of those movies that knows exactly what it is and isn’t trying to be something it’s not. It’s self-aware and loudly and proudly sincere, with one of the best revenge arcs ever put to film.

Recap episodes can either be clipshows or get really creative like ATLA, telling the series recap through the medium of a propagandized play about the Avatar's journey, performed by actors of the Fire Nation. The Gaang sits there in vague states of discomfort, horror, or in Toph and Sokka's case, thrilling enjoyment, watching their hardships and heartbreaks played for laughs. That it's the story we know, but also with the added filter of it being enemy propaganda takes what could have been just a clipshow and still told multiple layers of a story with it.

The Fourth-Wall Break | Riordan-verse, Deadpool

“Look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood” defined a generation. It’s one of those fourth wall breaks that opens up the story and never appears again, though occasionally Percy will get slightly self-aware, saying things like “I didn’t know it then, but I’d never come back here”. But for PJO it almost doesn’t count.

Kane Chronicles on the other hand chose a bizarre framing device, having the two leads pretend to host a radio show, or a podcast—something where they were recording themselves and I don’t think it worked very well whenever it popped up and stopped the plot.

Shoutout to Tangled, too, for having a fairytale style fourth-wall break at the end, much like KC, where Flynn reveals that Rapunzel has been listening to him tell their story the entire time. Many fairytale stories open up with the physical book flipping open to the story, like Shrek and Shrek 2, but I don’t think those are translatable to the written medium very well.

The big one, though, is of course Deadpool. Have not seen the second one, and while ‘breaking the fourth wall’ isn’t by itself a framing device, DP & Wolverine absolutely makes it one, fast forwarding and jumbling up the sequence of events to deliver a “how did we get here?” during the opening credits.

Chronology Salad | Memento, Predestination

Have not actually seen Memento but I know the premise, working backwards as the protagonist recovers his memory of “how did we get here?” Predestination is a batshit insane time travel story that I don’t think most people have even heard of and detailing the plot at all is giving spoilers but it is the most “how the fuck did we get here??” movie I have ever seen.

Then you have stories like Twilight that open with “I’ve never given much thought to how I would die” that spoils (kind of) the ending, with the goal of the story not detailing if something bad will happen, but how. Twilight’s prologue reminds me of The Bachelor, where they’ll tease the audience with *shocking* moments completely out of context from later in the season that are way less cool when they actually come to pass (from the one time I watched with relatives out of morbid curiosity).

The point of these chronological mixups is how all the random puzzle pieces fit together, despite essentially spoiling themselves constantly, they’re so random, so out of place, meant to keep you constantly guessing until the big reveal of the picture on the box—and are extremely tricky to do well without completely losing your audience. You’d have to have a very thorough outline to not confuse yourself while trying to write it.

Honorary mention here for Inception, one of my favorite sci-fi movies, because the plot is crazy, but still told chronologically, just across different dream levels. However, the movie does open with the ending scene (though you don’t know that on your first watch). And Tenet, but I don’t know anyone who likes or cares about that movie.

Dual Timelines | Outlander

There are others I just cannot think of them at this moment. Dual timelines tell two stories simultaneously across two different eras, either decades apart or mere hours, with some relation between the two. Sometimes one timeline’s protagonist is the ancestor of the present timeline, for example.

Dual Timelines happen in sequential order, making them distinct from a flashback arc (more below) essentially two chronological plots running in tandem squished into the same book, episode, or film. They carry equal weight and try not to overshadow each other in flair or importance.

In Outlander, Protagonist Claire is already a time traveler, in a time travel story whose rules are “whatever happened, happened, and you end up causing whatever you tried to prevent”. Season 2 opens with her returning to the present, leaving the entire rest of the season with a foreboding sense of dread, wondering what will get her back to that moment.

Season 3 dangles the carrot on the stick, randomly cutting between Claire in the 60s and trying to move on with her life for… I think 20 years, while Jaime, her love interest from the past, just keeps getting kicked while he’s down. It takes forever to get these two back on screen together. And the dual timelines continue taking up screen time when Claire and Jaime’s adult daughter also eventually makes a trip to the past. Points off for being blatantly manipulative storytelling with its cliffhangers, but season 1 is still worth the watch.

Flashbacks, Flash-Forwards, and Flash-Sideways | Lost

This show’s earlier seasons were heavily framed with this device. In The first 3 seasons (up to the last episode) the framing device was exclusively flashbacks, focusing on one of the main 13 heroes for an episode, particularly in season 1.

They didn’t always answer “how did we get here” but told some story relevant to the character in the present, either a challenge they had to face or parallel relationship drama or ghosts come back to haunt them. Usually, these little flashbacks were told in sequential order, but they could hop months or years ahead at a time depending on the episode.

The flash-forwards began in season 4 and closed the gap between the “Oceanic 6” escaping the island and all the missing time while they were gone, before the infamous “We have to go back” line.

The show also had flash-sideways, which featured the main cast, many of whom had been dead for a few seasons, reprising their roles to show what could have been their lives if they never crashed. To… mixed reception.

The show also also had a time-traveling character who in-universe experienced flashes of the future and got mentally temporally displaced between two timelines for a hot minute.

Lost was… a show that demanded a dedicated following. I still love it.

Flashback Arcs | My own personal soapbox

This right here is the whole reason for this post. First you have flashback episodes and I can name a lot of those—ATLA has a couple, “The Storm” & “The Avatar and the Firelord” but both are technically “stories within a story” with characters either around a campfire telling it or reading about it. The alternate timeline takes up a majority of the runtime, only occasionally cutting back to the present characters for a reaction.

In TFP there’s an offbeat flashback episode “Out of the Past”, framed, again, as a character telling this backstory stuff to another character. Many, many vampire stories will have flashbacks to some degree, since their characters live for so long. Vampire Diaries, especially in the earlier seasons, had dozens of them filling in all the blanks back during the Civil War when the two leads, Stefan and Damon, were competing for the affections of the main villain, all leading up to how they were turned, and how she allegedly died. Once the Originals were introduced, the show then had flashbacks to a thousand years ago, when they were human, and various eras in between.

True flashback episodes don’t waste precious minutes setting up a framing device, they just dump the audience in an alternate timeline and let them figure it out on their own that something isn’t right.

But none of that comes close to the full-on Flashback Arc. I. Love. This. Trope.

I actually first saw it when Arrow was good in its earliest seasons, cutting fairly equally between a present-day Oliver back home and starting his hero journey, and him learning combat back in the past, over several episodes like a series within the series.

What you end up with is a happy medium between a full dual timeline and a random grab-bag of flashbacks as they become necessary to the plot. A flashback arc relies entirely on the existence of the A-plot to make sense, as opposed to a dual timeline where it’s essentially two self-sufficient stories rolled into one big narrative. This arc is substantially shorter than the rest of the plot, cutting the story it’s telling down to the absolute need-to-know moments and cutting all transitions between the two. These arcs tend to cover weeks, at minimum, and decades of a long life at most.

I think they're best implimented after the first book, film, or season. Not something you want to throw at your audience who barely knows or cares about these characters, so if you're stuck with ideas for a sequel, consider the Flashback Arc.

My favorite thing that I have ever written (sans ENNS) was for my sci-fi WIP, a C-plot flashback arc in 13 parts. They started out as in-universe nightmares to give credibility to when these flasbacks started occuring, framed around the character's reaction to the scene, but then took off independently to avoid redundancy.

This arc covered his time as a POW, telling the reader how he came to be the living weapon he was, and the first detail it opened with was the reveal that he wasn’t the only one of his kind, he’d lied and shouldered the blame of every atrocity to protect the others, as their numbers dwindled and it all fell into place. A truth he wouldn't tell with a gun to his head.

Because you already knew he lived, because he’s right there in the present A-plot, the arc wasn’t telling you if he’d survive the war, but what he’d do to survive, and how it all fell apart. Because it was framed up with the existing narrative, I had a lot more leeway in omitting details and dropping the reader weeks or months ahead as opposed to this being a completely fresh story with new characters. You knew immediately based on the tone that this POV was the C-plot flashback POV, and you knew the only person who could narrate it was my poor character.

Over 13 POVS, 34k words (of a total whopping 202k), I told a whole love story, established and killed off 10 characters, and gave heaps of worldbuilding lore and exposition to fill in all the blanks in the present and answer questions that this character would never, and revealed just how much he lied about and why.

All of this tied in with the A-plot, staggering the physical placement of POVS within the book to hit at the right moments tonally and as the character’s condition kept deteriorating because he refused to talk about What Happened. His reason was that he’d done all of this and suffered so much to keep their legacies pure. If he gave it up now, he would have done all this for nothing.

And this was some heavy shit. There was murder, suicide, death by giant alien super robots fond of ripping people apart, assault, mercy killing, torture, gaslighting, and psychological horror. One of my magic systems let magicians regrow limbs alchemically, which meant they could endure a shit ton of pain and just get reset to do it all over again.

It was a lot.

But because it was just in flashbacks, I gave you just enough dark shit before cutting back to something marginally lighter, not just one long slog of misery. There was also the unknown of how quickly it would end. The book would end when you hit the last page, but you had no idea which flashback POV would be the last.

And also.

I got to flex my writing skills to the fullest, writing this character’s flashback POV in a completely different tone and style to make it that much more distinct from the rest of the present book.

ENNS’ sequel is very much under construction, but the one thing already polished is a flashback episode packed into one chapter for one of my characters. It’s perfectly knife-twisty and I can't wait for people to read it.

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There’s dozens of framing devices out there. Most important thing, I think, is not sacrificing audience understanding for the sake of something ‘cool’. Doesn’t matter how amazing the story is if your audience gets completely lost and confused trying to keep up with what’s going on.

If you'd like to check out my book, Eternal Night of the Northern Sky is available now!

[countingprimes]

sometimes i see queer people make low hanging anti straight jokes, and they'll often pre-defend themselves by saying straight people don't need defending as if the queer community isn't populated by tons of straight people, straight trans people, straight ace people, straight poly people. queerness doesnt exclude exclusively opposite sex attracted people and it bothers me to see these jokes and their subsequent defenses because normative society certainly rejects these folks because of their queerness and now you are inside the queer community rejecting them for who they desire. i think about straight trans folks the most who are out here under fire from normative society who turn to the queer community for support only to be inundated with sentiments like straight people are actually the real lesser than folks, and it's easy enough to say straightness is valorized in normative society so shitting on straight people is punching up, but i can't help but be keenly aware that the queer straight people tend to be queer in the ways which are often excluded from queer community. so actually yeah i do think straight people need our protection, not heteronormative culture, but individual people? yeah. the "coming out as straight" jokes are all haha good times fuck the straights until you think about the fact that straight trans people when they come out are functionally doing that. after all how many straight trans people used to think they were cis gay people. and we, inside the queer community, turn their experiences into a mean spirited punch line designed to reject them from queer community.

like sorry i just don't think we are gonna find queer liberation by trying to figure out which group we are allowed to make fun of for having the wrong sexuality.

[lingeringscars]

Also to piggyback off of that, the entire point of the dollhouse was to show that they are ALL capable of turning on each other. They were all able to flip a switch to decide who got shocked even if no one did. They were capable of torturing each other, and that was the point. So, definitively, the answer is Not none of them

[000png]

writing personal statements for grad apps is killing me... i should be allowed to just post screenshots of my top 5 tumblr text posts and call it a day

[halfbit]

i am getting started on productivity for the night but haven't figured out yet if i want to write or art first and there's also the tiny part of my brain that just wants to stare at kabru until it is ok to stop staring at kabru

[drchucktingle]

i have copied this comment without name because i think it is very kind and respectful and i do not want buckaroos interpreting it the wrong way. PLEASE UNDERSTAND this buckaroo is very sincere and has important points and please respect their way. i am going to answer in a way that is counter to their point and i do not want buds to go after them IN ANY WAY. THEY ARE PROVING LOVE AND THEY HAVE GOOD POINTS

okay here is what i have to say:

i have not transitioned and in this lifetime i do not expect to. i think you have a good point of 'how can you know?' and honestly i cannot know that is just how timelines and reality and perception work

HOWEVER i must caution against this train of thought slightly because what works for one buckaroos MAY NOT WORK for another. every time i talk about my non-dysphoric way there are plenty of well meaning buds, particularly fellow trans buds, who show up with posts in the tone of 'its only matter of time.' like i just do not understand yet.

this reminds me of bisexual buckaroos who are told 'you just do not know you are gay yet'. as difficult as it is to step out of our own dang minds, i implore buckaroos to accept that there VERY JOYFUL AND FULFILLED NON-DYSPHORIC TRANS BUCKAROOS who do not need to transition and never will and are healthy and happy without that. just like there are bisexual buckaroos who are not just on their way to being gay

a good way to look at it is like this: I LOVE MY MALE BODY. i think i am a very handsome buckaroo. i have masculine features in my muscle and height and frame. as far as how fate could have placed me on this timeline I WON MY OWN PERSONAL FOOTRACE. i am up on the podium and i am standing here with a medal around my neck. GOOD JOB CHUCK

HOWEVER when i look down i see that medal is silver. i am not going to lie and say it is gold. it is silver.

YES my gold medal is a female body. that is an objective truth to my trot. i believe my gender way is that of a women, but there is no part of me that is upset about where i have placed.

I GOT SILVER. i am not upset. there is no tragedy. in fact i am OVERWHLEMED WITH JOY not just to be on the podium but to be in this race in the first place. HECK YEAH I DID IT AND I GOT A MEDAL

of course this is not to dismiss the difficult journey of others. many do not feel the way i do and their trot is VALID. a dysphoric way matters and is important and these voices are important. they should be elevated and supported. i understand some do not share this podium imagery, and they feel PAINED by trappings of their body.

i feel so much for this. i understand and care for my dysphoric buds, but the simple truth is that is not my story. i cant just lie and say that it is.

it will never be my story. i cannot say this enough: i love my body. however i STILL believe my truest way is that of a ladybuck. if it was a simple button push to change me, then i would push it without hesitation.

but it is not a simple button push.

talk to almost any buckaroo who has transitioned and they will say 'transitioning is hard'. it takes time and work and money and emotional support. i am in awe of the bravery of buckaroos who trot this path, but all of that is not worth it for something that i already feel good about. SCRATCH THAT, i feel GREAT ABOUT. i feel overwhelmed with joy every day over just existing in this male body that i have been blessed with. YES buckaroo, i feel joy existing in a male body that i know is ladybuck on the inside. it feels interesting a cool and exciting.

but my truest way is STILL a ladybuck trot

i guess i am just trying to say that i love second place. im happy to celebrate it. i think my male body is really dang cool. it is not a 'perfect me' but it is really dang awesome, and i never really bothered with trying to be perfect

[nanaslutt]

Perv!Geto taking care of you while you're sick

note: if you keep up with my perv!geto series, this takes place after reader & geto are together, if you don't, just read this as an established relationship fic :)

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contains: fem reader, whipped!geto, masturbation, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, teasing, nipple play, panty licking/sniffing, cum eating, fantasizing, slight somno

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Geto had been taking care of you for about a week now, but not in the hot, steamy, limbs-tangled-together-for-hours-on-end way. You had come down with a horrible cold right after Christmas, and being your roomie and boyfriend—Geto was attending to your every need.

It had been exactly seven days since you had first come down with the sickness. At first, it started off as a sore throat and nothing more, but the days following would turn into your own personal hell. Every single symptom of the flu managed to take over you, making you wish Geto would've killed you the night before you got sick when he was choking you out while fucking you dumb.

Geto had been so attentive throughout your whole sickness. He had brought you a cold wet rag every hour, slept with you at night, made sure you were eating no matter how much you didnt feel like it, held your hair when you got sick, and literally carried you all around the house when you wanted to go somewhere.

It even got to a point where he had to help you shower, sitting you down between his thighs on a small shower stool he instructed you to close your eyes while he massaged the shampoo into your hair, not wanting any to go into your eyes—you didnt need to be in any more pain than you already were.

Geto took your temperature every hour to make sure you never got too hot. If it did, he would've rushed you to the hospital in an instant. Luckily your fever broke after the third day, which meant for the last couple of days, you had been able to walk around the house yourself if you needed something. Granted if Geto saw you out of bed he scooped you up and immediately tucked you back into the sheets, demanding you tell him what you need so he could get it for you.

Geto loved taking care of you, he loved pampering you and doing mundane things for you, which is why he didnt mind helping you so much. The only downside to you being sick though.. no sex.

Since the two of you had started hooking up, even before you made things official, the both of you never went more than two days doing something sexual with one another. Of course, Geto felt so bad you were sick, and he wanted you to get better asap just for the sake of you not being sick anymore--but being able to have sex with you again was going to be a nice bonus.

Geto had to seriously restrain himself when you pressed yourself back into him, trying to steal his body heat while you were half asleep. He had to squeeze his eyes shut and think of Gojo in order to not pop a boner right now. Geto doesn't think he's ever thought about Gojo so much in one week.

When he had you naked in front of him in the shower, your body swaying while you tried to keep yourself away as the warm water hit your skin, he was so glad you were facing away from him. You had just spent the entire night being sick in the bathroom, you had a splitting headache and were barely staying conscious for christ sake and here he was, hard as a rock as he rubbed the washcloth over your soft skin, cleaning every inch of your body.

One night, he had woken up in the middle of the night and saw the comforter that was once covering the two of you, was discarded at the edge of the bed--your shaking frame exposed to his eyes. He made you wear only a tank top and panties to bed that night to try and lower your body temperature. You had protested of course, but you must've gotten hot at some point, as there was a thin layer of sweat on your skin.

Geto immediately knew he was hard, he didnt even have to look. Your ass was pressed right against his crotch, cradling his stiff cock perfectly. He knew his erection wasn't going to go away unless he did something about it. Every neuron in his brain was telling him to use your thighs, just slide his cock between your cold thighs and rub it back and forth, rubbing against your panty-clad cunt in the process.

Of course, he knew he wouldn't actually do it, but it wouldn't stop him from fantasizing about it. He slid back from your body slightly, giving himself just enough room to slide his hand into his boxers and pull out his stiff cock, the tip already leaking with pre.

He tried to focus on the curve of your ass in the darkness, wishing you were in a more vulnerable position so he could see your pussy better, but this would have to do. He started stroking his cock slowly, so as to not wake you from the shaking of his arm.

Geto bit his lip to keep himself quiet as he jerked off. Shaky breaths could be heard through the room if one focused enough. Geto reached out slowly to grab your hip, just to feel your skin, to give himself something.

He felt a shock of electricity shoot down to his dick the second he touched you, his lips pressing together to suppress a groan. His hand traveled down further the closer he got to his high. He softly groped your ass, massaging and rubbing the fat there to help him cum quicker.

Your scent was all around him, it was making him dizzy. You were so close, so fucking close, and he couldn't even do anything about it. When he felt himself approach the edge he squeezed his eyes shut, tightening his hand over his cock as he groped you harder, praying you wouldn't wake up right now.

He imagined his hand being your cunt, pulsing and squeezing around his cock as he fucked the both of you towards your orgasms. You would be so loud, crying out for him has he impaled you on his cock. Would you squirt? He bet you would.. he always made you squirt when he fucked you on your side like this.

All he had to do was lift your leg and pull your panties aside and he could slip his cock inside you, finishing himself off deep inside your warm cunt instead of wasting his load in his hand—the load he had wanted to save for you.

He was going to cum so much, and it was going to be so thick he felt bad wasting it like this, but he had no choice. Not when he wanted to cum this bad and he was so close. Absentmindedly, his thumb had slid down to your cunt, and softly pressed it against your clothed hole. When your body shifted forward and you softly grunted in your sleep, that's all he needed to send him over the edge, his orgasm crashing down over him in that moment.

The rush of almost getting caught made him cum ten times harder. His hand retracted from your cunt as he grabbed the tip of his dick, catching his seed in the palm of his hand, careful to not spill any on your bed. He rolled onto his back, still jerking himself off through his orgasm as his body hunched in on itself with the intensity of his orgasm.

He bit his lip hard, nothing but heavy breathing spilling from his nose as he did his best to keep quiet, stroking himself off through the aftershocks of his high. When he started to come down, he let his lip go from the confines of his teeth, sighing heavily into the quiet room.

He was right, his load was so thick and there was so much of it, it really was a shame he had to waste it--he thought as he washed it down the sink, scrubbing his hands clean with your sweet-smelling soap before he crawled back into bed with you.

—

Now it was seven days later, and you had dragged yourself out of bed to grab something to drink, not being able to take lying around in bed anymore. Geto heard the commotion in the kitchen and walked around the corner, watching you standing on your tippy toes, your ass peeking out under his large shirt you wore, the bottom half of your body clad in only a pair of panties.

He swallowed hard at the sight in front of him, reminding himself you were still very much sick as he felt his face heat up while he oggled the soft skin of your ass. "Hey, what are you doin' out of bed?" Geto's voice rang in your clogged ears, his large figure pressing against your back soon after he spoke. "It's okay Sugu, really.. I've been in bed for a week straight I need to move around or I'm going to- *cough* die.." You said, covering your mouth with your arm, your cough shaking Geto's body as he held on to you.

"Still no fever?" Geto asked, moving one of his hands up to press against your forehead, feeling the warm skin. You closed your eyes upon feeling his hand, humming at his touch. "..You're a little warm." He said after a beat, making you sigh. "Sugu I'm fine, really. I'm still pretty exhausted but I feel like I'm slowly getting better." He knew you were telling the truth.

After all, just a couple of days ago you couldn't even stand, and now you were walking around the house all on your own, so you must finally be getting better. "About time." He sighed, burying his face into the crook of your neck and kissing the skin there. You wrapped your arms around his that held your body, letting him rock you back and forth.

"Someone miss me?" You asked, you giggle getting cut off with a cough. It took Geto a second to realize you weren't talking about him. Your boyfriend groaned into your shoulder, keeping his arms around you but pulling his hips back so his erect cock wasn't poking into your ass. "He's always like that when I see you," Geto replied, mumbling into your neck.

His words made you giggle, "You're so cute. Sorry if I've been making it hard for you. I really should've been more careful, I didnt mean to get sick." You spoke in your hoarse voice. Geto raised his head from your neck, his large hand coming up to grab your face, turning you towards him. "No one means to get sick baby, I've been fine really, don't worry about me." He replied, caressing your cheek.

He pressed his lips to your forehead before he pulled away, grabbing the glass out of your hand to fill up your cup with water. Although his words said otherwise, you had a feeling Geto was having a harder time being abstinent than he led on.

You had been pretty out of it this past week and don't remember much, but you did recall the way Geto had averted his eyes every time they dared to linger on your body. He was constantly pulling your shorts and shirts down to cover your ass, and made a point to choose thicker fabric for the top so he couldn't see your hard nipples through the shirt. They were small details, but you had been living with Geto for a while, you had become observant.

When the dark-haired man turned back around, he was holding your glass of water. He held your waist in his hand and pressed the glass to your fingers, letting go when they wrapped around it. You closed your eyes when you felt his lips press to your forehead once more before his touch was gone altogether. "Get back to your room once you finish that, I'm gonna go.. call Satoru real quick, missed his call earlier." He lied through his teeth.

You nodded, and with that, he walked out of the room. That's when you knew that Geto was having a harder time with this than you thought, as he just lied to you. You weren't mad that he lied to you though, because you could piece together the real reason he escaped to his room—coincidentally right after you had pointed out his boner. He really was a terrible liar.

In any other situation, you would chase him down into his room and take his cock out of his hands, helping him out. But Geto was right, you needed to rest. You felt your fatigue creep up on you the longer you stood in the kitchen, taking small sips of your water.

After placing your glass down by the sink, you dragged your body towards your bedroom, stopping by Geto's on the way there, as you had to pass his room to get to yours at the end of the hall. As discreetly as you could, you pressed your ear against his bedroom, listening for any sounds of Geto getting himself off. You cursed your clogged ears, you couldn't hear anything at all.

Maybe he had already jerked off and gone to sleep? You were too tired to think about it any longer. You hadn't heard anything, so it made you feel a little better. If you had heard him pleasuring himself on the other side of the door, you would've felt a little guilty.

Geto held his palm over his lips, listening for the telltale sound of your door shutting before he let his gasps seep into the room. "Fuck.." He groaned, squeezing his cock at the tip, watching the white pearl of precum beat on the slit of his cock before it dripped down, meeting his fist as he stroked down the length of his cock.

He had heard your footsteps and seen your shadow standing outside the door, reacting quickly, he pressed his hand over his mouth and stopped his jerking in order to not get caught. He was still breathing pretty heavily, but he bet on your awful hearing right now that you wouldn't hear anything, and his gamble had paid off when you walked away soon after, slipping into your room to fall asleep once more.

"All I did was hug you and you got me this hard... fuck..." Geto mumbled under his breath, slipping his hand under his shirt to toy with his nipples while he squeezed his hand over his cock, trying to mimic the squeezing of your pussy. "Shiiiit-" He groaned, trying to keep his voice relatively quiet, keeping his ears open to hear if you moved around outside his room.

Geto flicked his fingers over his sensitive nipples, his abs clenching under his hand as he rubbed his thumb on his frenulum, massaging the sensitive spot to get him to his orgasm quicker. He wanted to go join you in your room and cuddle you to sleep, but he was in no shape to do so if he had a massive boner. He didnt need his neglected cock stabbing you in the back for hours on end, that couldn't possibly be comfortable.

seconds turned to minutes, and before he knew it, it had been half an hour and he still had not cum. You would for sure be asleep without him now. Fuck, why couldn't he cum? He was able to cum a couple days ago when you were next to him. Oh. Because you were next to him. Was he not able to cum without you in some way? Fuck, you had ruined him.

He let go of his throbbing cock and searched around his bed for his phone to scroll through pictures of you. The both of you had not yet taken any lewd pictures of each other, but he knew he would have no problem getting off to a picture of you even if you were in a snowsuit ten times bigger than you. He thought you looked like the most gorgeous person he'd ever seen when you were dying in bed all week, he was absolutely enamored with you.

"The fuck?" Geto mumbled, throwing his pillows off his bed in search of his phone. "Oh, you can't be serious." He sighed louder than intended. He had gone into your room roughly an hour before you walked into the kitchen to ask what you wanted for dinner, and he had set his phone down on your bedside table.

Geto rubbed his hands over his face, pulling the skin down dramatically in defeat. His imagination was just not cutting it, how was he supposed to get rid of this annoying boner if he couldn't even see your pretty face? Suddenly a lightbulb went off in his head. Your panties. Of course! Although the two of you were dating, he had made it clear to you that he still took immense joy in stealing your dirty panties and using them to get off. Although he masturbated less and less frequently since he started sleeping with you.

Quickly opening his drawer, he rummaged through the condoms, straw chords, and lighters in his bedside table, searching for your panties. "Come on, come on... fuck." Geto was quickly losing hope the more and more he dug. His drawer wasn't very big, and it wasn't very full, there were only so many corners he could check for the stolen panties.

He looked down to his exposed crotch when he realized your panties were absolutely not in his drawer. He was still hard, how was that even possible? Usually, when he got irritated or annoyed, his boner was killed in an instant, so why was this one sticking around? Geto silently cursed the universe for plaguing him with the opposite of erectile dysfunction, sighing as he grabbed his cock in his hand, slowly stroking his length while he looked at the ceiling, searching the crevasses in the walls for ideas.

After a good five minutes of sadly playing with his cock while trying to brainstorm ways to cum, he came to one conclusion. He had to get into your room to steal his phone back. With a sigh, he pulled his boxers on and slipped his grey sweats on over them, cringing at the obvious tent in his pants.

He pulled on his baggiest shirt and still, his cock could be seen through the fabric. Geto posed in front of the mirror, trying to gauge if it was all that obvious. Okay, say you are awake and he walks in with his hard cock poking out like a sore thumb. If he stood at this angle... under this lighting.. or maybe this angle? Yeah yeah.. this one.. you could barely see it.

Geto posed randomly in his full-length mirror, snapping back to reality when he realized he was hunched over with one leg sticking out in the most embarrassing and non-natural pose he could muster. "Fuck.. It's okay, it's just be in and out." He said out loud to himself in the mirror, standing up straight as he hyped himself up before he walked to his door and turned the knob, heading for your room.

—

It was not okay, nothing was okay. Nothing was more not okay than this. Geto stood in your doorway, watching with a saliva-filled mouth as you lay on your stomach, one knee bent, the leg curled up towards your head, your other straight pointed toward the end of the bed, giving Geto the most perfect view of your plump cunt pressing against your panties.

Geto closed his mouth, swallowing hard as his eyes zeroed in on your cunt. The light that shone through your room from the hallway illuminated your body perfectly, your skin almost glowing from the LEDs. Your panties were so thin they were allowing Geto to see everything. He could see your little slit and a small bump near the top of your pussy where your little clit was.

He palmed himself over his slacks, forgetting the reason why he came in here in the first place. He wrapped his hands over his cock through his slacks, jerking himself off, his damp boxers feeling strangely good on his sensitive length. He watched you shift slightly in your sleep, your leg raising itself higher, giving him an even better view of your cunt if possible.

He felt himself drip into his boxers, looking down he could make out a dark patch of cum seeping through on the front of his pants. Geto couldn't take it anymore, he was so hard, his cock and balls were aching for release, and you were right in front of him. Releasing his dick from his grip, he walked toward you and sat down on the side of your bed, rubbing your lower back and ass softly, trying to slowly wake you up.

He felt himself cringe when you moaned, your body stretching as you stared awake, your eyes cracking open. The headache you had been dealing with for days was still present, but a lot less intense, the water must've done its job while you slept.

As your eyes started to come into focus, the blurriness fading from them, you turned your body around, lying on your back. Geto's hand stayed on your body, his hand now rubbing your upper thigh, right next to your cunt. He tried to control himself at least long enough to explain what was going on, he didnt want to freak you out by pouncing on you while you weren't fully there.

"Sugu?" Your hoarse voice whispered, your hand landing on his bent knee as he faced you on the bed, a forced smile on his face. "Hi baby, I'm so sorry to wake you." He said genuinely. He felt his cock throb in his pants as your warm hand rubbed circles on his kneecap while you woke up fully. "'s okay Sugu.. 's everything okay?" You asked, your half-open eyes staring at him.

Geto decided he had waited long enough. You were forming coherent sentences--albeit slurred ones-- but you knew who he was and had registered his words, which was good enough for him. He slowly slotted himself between your thighs, sliding your legs over his large thighs and around his waist.

"Need you baby.." His deep voice whispered needily, his large hand coming down to grope himself over his pants while the other continued rubbing your soft thigh. A sudden warmth of arousal washed over you as your sleep-filled eyes dropped down to watch him palm his obviously hard cock. "I cant cum without you, been tryin' for so long, it hurts baby." He whispered, his eyes flitting between your cunt and your pretty flushed face.

"Sugu..." You whined softly, feeling yourself start to grow wetter the longer you watched him. "Don't need much baby, you can.. ngh- you can even go back to sleep if you want.." Geto said, reaching into his boxers he pulled out his cock, exposing his angry length to your eyes. "Just.. just need to see your little pussy, that's all." He finished.

Once he had his cock in his hand, he used the other to pull your panties down your thighs, exposing your twitching cunt to his hungry eyes. You blushed, watching silently with an open mouth as he pulled the cloth away from your body. "Oh fuck." He groaned. "Such a pretty fucking cunt."

Geto abandoned his hand on his cock for a second to slide help you bend your knees, sliding your panties completely off your body, keeping them in his hand. Your boyfriend shook his head as he stared at your cunt, which unbeknownst to him was getting wetter and wetter by the second.

"W-wait." You voiced when you watched Geto lift your panties up to his face. He paused his actions, smirking at you, his face full of lust. "I've teased you plenty, but you've never actually seen me use your panties, have you?" He asked, to which you shook your head, placing your hands over your face in embarrassment, peeking at him through your fingers.

"Sugu don't, they're d-dirty." You said, the heartbeat in your pussy increasing despite your words. "I know." He replied, pressing them against his nose. Your eyebrows furrowed, a dark blush spreading over your face as you watched Geto's eyes roll back in his head as he sniffed your panties, taking in the scent of your cunt. "Ohmygodd-" He groaned, jerking his cock faster as he felt a wave of arousal flood his pelvis.

"Baby you smell so good oh fuck- needed this- n-needed you." He groaned shamelessly. A drip of pre-cum dripped from the tip of his cock, landing between you on your sheets. You whimpered watching Suguru put on his little show for you, not daring to move your hands away from your face.

"You embarassed cutie?" Geto teased, bringing the panties away from his face to find the part that presses against your folds before he held it up to his mouth, his tongue darting out to taste the remnants of you while keeping his lidded eyes glued to yours. "You're so filthy.." You mumbled behind your hands.

Geto heard you loud and clear, his cock twitching in interest. "Hmm? What was that?" He asked, handing off the panties to his other hand as he wrapped the cloth around his cock, jerking off with it while his other came back to caress your upper thigh. "I- I said you're filthy." You said a little louder, watching him use the panties you had on seconds ago to masturbate with.

"And you love it don't you? Can see your pussy throbbing while you watch me use 'ur dirty panties to touch myself." He said, tipping his head to the side to allow the light in the hallway to seep past him and illuminate your wet cunt, allowing him a better view of his favorite sight.

"Fuck.. this is doing it for me baby, thank you, thank you so much." Geto babbled, watching your cunt throb under his intense gaze. "You really only need to look at um.. at it?" You said, dropping your hands from your face, and resting them on your chest. "Yeah.. fuck- can feel myself gettin' real close just from lookin' at your pretty pussy."

You moaned at his words, watching the tip of his dick drip more and more precut onto the sheets. "Can you.. maybe touch me a little?" You ask hesitantly, not wanting to push your body too far. "'s that okay?" He asked, his hand already making its way to your inner thigh, teasing the skin there. "Gently, I'm just feeling a little.." You let your words trail off, looking away from him.

Geto had to slow his hand down so he didnt cum too soon. Who knew you could be so cute when you were sick? He was used to you being demanding and assertive, clearly being sick took you down a notch. "You feelin' a little needy down there, hmm?" Geto finished for you, his thumb spreading your folds open, exposing the slick that resided inside your walls.

Geto smirked when you nodded, his cock twitching in response to seeing you so wet. "Want me to rub your clit? I'll be gentle." Geto asked sweetly, dipping his thumb into the entrance of your pussy, gathering some of the wetness on his thumb while he waited for your response. You nodded before speaking softly, "I'm not going to last long so don't make fun of me.." You admitted, feeling like you were already going to cum without him even touching you.

"Yeah?" Geto teased, his fingers splaying out on your pelvis as his thumb came down to rub small circles against your clit at the perfect pace and pressure. "Gonna cum real fast for me?" He continued, knowing how worked up you got from his words.

Now that he was actually touching you, he really had to be careful that he didnt blow his load too soon, his hand gripping himself at the base as he staved off his orgasm. You nodded, your hand coming down to weakly grab his wrist, your other arm covering your mouth as you coughed weakly into your arm. "You okay? 's it too much?" He asked, slowing his thumb on your swollen bud.

You felt yourself clench around nothing at the change of pace. You gripped his wrist a little harder, urging him to continue. "N-no *cough* Please don't stop." You begged, looking into his eyes. Geto picked up his pace on himself once more when he felt his orgasm fade a safe distance away, still being careful to be mindful of how close he was.

"You're so cute baby, so fucking cute." He praised, picking up the speed of his thumb on your clit, making your back arch, your eyes rolling back in your head as your chin tipped towards the ceiling, your head relaxing onto the soft pillow as Geto got you off. He dipped his thumb down to your entrance once more, collecting some more of your slick before he brought it back up to your clit, smiling at the little wet sounds it created.

Your soft whimpers started picking up in volume, your body squirming more against the sheets, which Geto noticed. "You getting close baby?" Geto asked, looking down at his own cock as he smeared his precut on your panties before wrapping the fabric back over his cock and jerking off with it, picking up his pace.

"Yeah.. feel it coming Sugu." You whispered, keeping your eyes shut as you relaxed into the bed, letting Geto do all of the work. "Good, good girl baby. Doing so well letting me get us off like this. 'S it feel good? You like it when I rub your clit?" Geto spoke softly, using his words to bring your to your orgasm.

"Y-yeah, feels s-so good Sugu.. always *cough* make me feel so good." You choked on your words a bit, trying to breathe through the pleasure so you didnt fall into a coughing fit.

Geto felt his orgasm rapidly approaching, but he needed you to cum first. He needed both of his hands to do what he wnated to do when he came. "That's right, just relax baby, let me take care of you, let me make you cum." He whispered, biting his lip when he felt your legs squeeze his waist, your hand gripping his wrist harder. "O-oh Sugu- I'm cumming I-I'm cumming-" You whimpered, your head thrashing against the pillow as your back arched with your pleasure, your eyebrows screwing together.

"'M right here, cum for me baby, yesyes- ohhhh fuck- yesss, that's right baby let it all out." Geto huffed out a laugh, speaking through his teeth as his thumb kept rubbing over your clit, helping you ride out your orgasm. He felt his balls tighten with his impending release when your arousal dripped from your hole, sliding down your ass. "Fuck, good job baby, good fucking girl." Geto praised, pulling his thumb back when he felt you push him away, being careful to not overstimulate you right now.

Your body twitched as you came down from your high, your eyes screwing open as your vision focused on the ceiling above you. Your view was slightly blurry from how sleeping cumming had made you, it took a lot more out of you than you had expected, even only playing with your clit.

Geto's voice brought you back to reality, your sleepy eyes slowly looking down at him, your chin tipping down in tandem as you looked at him. "Watch me, baby, need you to watch me while I cum in your panties."

His unexpected words made you feel hot all over, another gush of arousal leaking from your cunt. Geto tipped his head back, the light behind him illuminating his hair and his impressive frame, making him appear as if he was glowing.

You watched his jaw fall open as moans spilled from his lips, finding their way into your ears. Geto's hand over his cock looked blurry, save for the black fabric that was being yanked over his length as he worked himself up to his orgasm.

"Fuck- fuck-" Geto's back arched, his breath coming out in small gasps and pants as he was brought to the edge. His chin tipped down as he ripped your panties off of his cock with his free hand, his fingers quickly finding the part that cradles your cunt as he held it out right in front of his cock, stroking himself rapidly.

"Cumming- cum- fuck-" Geto grit through his teeth before the first rope of his cum shot out and landed on the crotch of your panties. You watched with tired eyes as he came all over the fabric, defiling it with his thick cum. "Nghhhh-" He groaned as he jerked himself off through his high, making sure every rope of his hot cum landed on your panties.

You fought the sleep from your brain as you watched him. He looked so pretty with his flushed face and slack jaw as he rode through the aftershocks of his orgasm, rubbing the tip of his cock on your panties to clean it off. Geto's eyes looked up to your own, his chest rising and falling as he breathed heavily, trying to recover from such an intense orgasm.

He smiled watching your sleepy eyes flutter, trying to stay open. Balling up the defiled panties, he threw them somewhere on your floor before he rubbed your thigh with his big hand soothingly, smiling at your face softly. "I'll clean you up, go to sleep baby, did so well for me, I love you. These were the last words you heard from your sweet boyfriend before you drifted off into dreamland.

[5sospenguinqueen]

Play Pretend | Charles Leclerc x Law Student! Reader

Summary: He's Lightning McQueen. You're Elle Woods. But, when Charles misses you, he makes it known that perhaps your career isn't as important as his wishes to start a family.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Baby fever? Miscommunication.

Female reader with various faceclaims. Pics found on Pinterest.

2024 but some events switched around 

I'm trying to make all of these different to each other so I'm sorry that this one was less baby fever and more baby mention.

Main Masterlist

next.

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YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, francisca.cgomes and others 

YourUserName the cause of stress v. the support systems   tagged: charles_leclerc, YourBestFriend

6,883 comments

User1 i love how all her captions ft her degree are legal themed 

charles_leclerc ❤️💛

charles_leclerc mon ange, what are you doing in that second photo

→ YourUserName it’s probably best you don’t know, char

→ YourBestFriend cocktails were involved

→ charles_leclerc this is why i don’t like leaving her with you 

→ YourBestFriend cry me a river, vroom vroom boy 

lilymhe i still think i would be a better support system than charles

→ YourUserName and i fully agree. let’s run away together

→ alex_albon whoa, whoa, whoa. get your own girlfriend

→ charles_leclerc she already has her own girlfriend! 

→ charles_leclerc wait, no

→ User2 the prettiest girlfriend

User3 i swear charles and y/n are the cutest f1 couple

→ User4 they always look so infatuated with each other 

→ User5 umm, how? she's literally never at races 

→ User6 because she’s off being successful in her own way, and charles supports that? plus, she’s always snapped in ferrari merch on race days whether she’s there or not

→ User7 omg yes! when a classmate took a pic of her leaving a final in bright red, and she was easily the most spottable person in that hall 

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charles_leclerc just posted

liked by pierregasly, arthur_leclerc and others

charles_leclerc welcome home baby leo  tagged: YourUserName

12,298 comments

YourUserName my two favourite boys ❤️

User8 did you see in the background of one of the pics, they have his “birth certificate” framed and it says leo leclerc-y/l/n. he truly is their child

roscoelovescoco can’t wait’s to see’s a new’s friend in’s the paddock’s 

→ User9 roscoe-leo play date when please

→ User10 not until 2025 😂

User11 but let’s all take a moment to appreciate how cool leo’s parents are. he has an f1 racer for a dad, and a fashionable law student for a mum

→ User12 haha his parents are lightning mcqueen and elle woods 

pierregasly thanks mate. now kika is going to want one

→ YourUserName and you should give her one. i need a mum friend 

User13 first they adopt ollie and now leo. who’s next

→ YourUserName oscar

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User1 the interviewer was asking about future races and charles wasted no time in bringing up his girlfriend. he’s so down bad 

User2 the way his face lights up when he talks about her. he really does love her. 

User3 oh Charles, honey, that’s not giving what you think it is 

User4 any other woman slightly uncomfortable with the way this was worded?

→ User5 lets all take a moment to remember that english isn’t his first language. he obviously meant well, and the love in his eyes shows that he’s excited about a life with y/n, it just wasn’t worded in the best way 

User6 the interviewer was so skeezy for that last comment though

User7 i feel so bad for y/n. she’s always so supportive of charles' races, even when she’s not there, and charles is talking about how he can't wait for her to be done with her degree so she can follow him around the world 

→ User8 i don’t think he meant it that way. he looked horrified when the interviewer interpreted it that way but the interview ended before he could clarify further 

User9 do we think mom and dad are fighting after his *slightly* misogynistic comments about making her a kept woman

→ User10 i really hope not but my heart says yes because he basically said he’ll turn her into a travel wife who only cares about his career but said nothing about her career that she’s working really hard on

User11 i didn’t realise how much i depended on y/n’s post race posts until i didn’t get one

→ User12 she always posts the most panty-dropping post race charles pics 

User13 i miss them already 

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User1 oh god, it’s official

User2 brb just gonna go cry my eyes out for an hour 

User3 literally half of her insta posts have disappeared because they were all charles 

→ User4 the only thing keeping me sane is that any post where he wasn’t the main focus but slightly in them have been kept 

User5 can someone check on ollie? see how he’s coping as a child of divorce 

liked by OllieBearman

User6 yes, yes. this is all very sad but now that i’m done crying, can we talk about what is going to happen with leo? is this going to be a shared custody agreement?

→ User7 how could i forget about leo. do you think they’ll see each other at child drop off or make arthur be the middle man?

User8 i can't believe they just got a puppy together and now they’re going to be co-parenting instead :( 

User9 maybe this is just a minor speed bump in the road to their everlasting happiness? (yes, i’m hoping that they’re simply taking a small break)

→ User10 may all your delulus come trululu

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YourUserName just posted

liked by lilymhe, arthur_leclerc and others 

YourUserName the verdict is unanimous… I’m stressing

3,880 comments

YourBestFriend this barbies practices law

→ YourBestFriend not long left, babe. just a couple of exams and we’re qualified adults

→ YourUserName i don’t think we should ever be classed as qualified adults lol 

→ YourMum i still can't get over the fact that you two used to play pretend lawyers as little girls and now you're actually going to be one

lilymhe good luck, y/n. you’re gonna smash these! 

→ YourUserName if not, fancy running me over with your golf cart? 

arthur_leclerc good luck, y/n/n. try not to drink too much caffeine 

→ YourUserName i’m not that bad! 

→ arthur_leclerc you cannot lie to me. i have had to listen to you after three red bulls

→ landonorris betrayal! 

User1 she’s so real for that last slide tho. like miss y/l/n you are gorgeous and we’re glad you know it

YourClassmate how do you look so nice despite being in the library until 2am?

→ User2 dude, no. that line is not going to pull the stunning y/n y/l/n

→ User3 literally, the love of her life is charles leclerc and this guy thinks he’s going to win her over with a bad line 

User4 guys, is anyone else missing the sweet comments charles would always leave 

→ User5 he would be agreeing with the last slide and telling her how beautiful and smart she is 

→ User6 how about we don’t remind her of her ex-boyfriend the day before her life-changing exams

carlossainz55 good luck🤞🏼

→ User7 not sainz being messy on main

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charles_leclerc just posted

liked by pierregasly, scuderiaferrari and others

charles_leclerc there is nothing like racing in italy for ferrari. i wish we had a better result, but that was the maximum today. we’ll try again next week. 

8,449 comments

User9 did you see his interview of him on his way out of the paddock? man was in a rush with poor leo tucked under his arm

→ User10 it’s y/n’s week with leo so charles was running out there because it was time to go see his favourite girl 

→ User11 he was not wasting a minute to see the love of his life 

User12 charles racing faster to go see his ex-girlfriend who he’s wildly obsessed with than he did all weekend 

→ User13 bestie you better pray he doesn’t see this 

→ User14 why? ‘cause he’ll have to fight the urge to like it 

User15 i’m so happy that it’s y/n’s week with leo because we’re going to get the most adorable puppy pics on her story all week

→ User16 also it means that his parents will be conversing 

User17 i love that we’re all depending on leo to get f1’s favourite couple back together 

Baby Fever Angst

Daniel's Version | Max's Version | Lando's Version

Lance's Version | Oscar’s Version

Oscar's version will come out next and then I promise, I'll release some of the Part 2s before making any more

(This wasn’t due out until tomorrow but I’ve released it earlier in honour of THE MONACO WIN BABY!!!!!!) 🥳🍾🥳🍾

Tag list

@lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @elijahslover @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @brsr @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @dullypully @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @sbrn0905 @hc-dutch @mxdi0 @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @glow-ish

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sanemi Shinazugawa falling hard for his polar opposite but is too subborn to confess until he does

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,9k

Synopsis: Sanemi was never the type of guy who falls for something stupid as love. Especially not when it comes to his polar opposite, especially not with such a kind and gentle girl like you... Right?

Warnings: this is pure fluff y'all, reader and Sanemi being innocent babies, a tiny bit enemies to lovers

Thank you soo much for that cute request @blunderland, I just knew I had to write that asap hehe. Let me know what you think <3

There you stand with your stupid perfect face and smile so gentle that you could tame a demon with it. With worried expression, you bend over the little demon girl and inspect her wounds carefully.

“Don’t worry, you’ll feel better soon”, you speak out while caressing her dark hair.

What a poor girl she is. And her brother…Your eyes drift towards the boy with the beat-up face. What he had to endure is truly unfair, too much to bear for a single person. He really lost his whole family apart from that one sister who got turned into a demon.

And now he’s fighting for the demon slayer corps.

“I admire you.”

Tanjiro Kamado’s eyes widen in utter surprise.

“There’s no need to admire me. Actually, I’m the one who’s looking up to you. You’re the first person who didn’t judge my sister because she’s a demon.”

“Demons were once humans too”, you explain briefly while gracefully getting up.

“And I refuse to see them as anything else until they prove the opposite.”

“What kind of fuckery is this, (y/n)?”, an oh so familiar voice barks at you from behind.

Sanemi Shinazugawa really seems like a man with a heart made out of solid ice with his hateful orbs gleaming at Tanjiro and his sister.

“Don’t you think they proved themselves more than enough, Sanemi? If Kagaya-sama agreed on allowing Nezuko Kamado to live and her brother to continue fighting for the demon slayer corps, there is nothing to question for us hashira.”

“Don’t touch that demon brat so casually”, he hisses through gritted teeth while grabbing your wrist tightly.

Your heart skips a beat when his bare skin touches yours. How ridiculous it is that you developed feelings for him. Out of all the other hashira, it was always Sanemi Shinazugawa before everyone else. Those rare moments of tenderness he shows from time to time, the way he worries about his comrades without expressing his true feelings to the world. His closed like a treasure, so gorgeous that you can’t take your eyes off him.

“That isn’t a very nice way to talk to our guests, Sanemi”, you reply softly.

Urgh. He can’t fucking stand you with that scolding expression on your face, how your other hand still rests on top of the head of that demon brat. Why do you have to be so sickening kind to everyone you meet? Why are you even a part of the demon slayer corps with that strange attitude of yours?

“Guests? Are you talking about those intruders? If it was for me, I’d rip both of your heads off without blinking-“

“Sanemi.”

Before he’s able to react any further, he finds his own face framed by your much smaller hands and eyes focused onto his so intensely that he feels his cheeks heat up in an instant.

Why…Why is he suddenly feeling so hot? He should slap your hands away, should show you your place-

“Trust me, I understand your anger. But they are innocent until they prove themselves guilty.”

Those calm eyes who never lose their composure, the eyes he threatened to get lost in countless times already. Why do you have to be so damn gorgeous?

Gorgeous? He furrows his eyebrows, body yanking away from yours instantly. There’s nothing gorgeous about someone like you.

“If you really think that you’re a fool”, he bites back before turning on his heels and storming away.

What the hell was he even thinking? You, gorgeous…Just because your eyes seem to sparkle in the sunlight or the way your hair looks like liquid silk when a ray of light hits it perfectly. Or maybe because of the way your uniform hugs you so well, because of your strength. Or is it the way you look at him?

Sanemi shakes his head vehemently. That’s absolutely ridiculous. You’re the complete opposite of him. How could he ever like you?

“I think Shinazugawa-san likes you, (y/n)!”, Mitsuri babbles out while making her way back with you.

“Really? It definitely didn’t look that way”, you reply with low voice.

Oh, how much you’d hope that someday, the wind hashira actually likes you back. Even though both of you are polar opposites, even though you might never be on same terms. You still somehow managed to fall hard for him.

“Don’t give up hope, (y/n)! I definitely caught the way he looked at you earlier!”

You smile at the girl next to you gently, how she starts analyzing every minor detail of your confrontation earlier on. Mitsuri always swore that there is chemistry between both of you.

“And I’m never wrong when it comes to love, you can trust me (y/n)!”

“You’re a fool for treating (y/n) like trash, Shinazugawa”, Obanai comments dryly while letting his feet dangle from the tree he’s resting on.

“What are you even talking about, huh? It’s none of your business how I’m talking to her anyway.”

“(y/n) truly has a tender and kind soul. What a shame it is you hurt her like that”, Gyomei adds, tears streaming down his face in waterfalls again.

“Are you too dumb to realize she has feelings for you?”, Obanai continues.

You? Feelings for him? He huffs out loud. Absolutely ridiculous, maybe even impossible. Why would someone like you fall for someone like him? Not that he’d care for you like that anyway…

“I don’t give a shit”, Sanemi finally mutters through gritted teeth.

“Shinazugawa, it seems like you have a type”, Gyomei declares all of the sudden.

Something inside Sanemi snaps.

“Are y’all actually too dumb to realize that (y/n)’d never want me? I’m actually so far away from being her type I might be on a whole other planet! It’s like everything I am is exactly what she doesn’t want”, he finally blurts out.

Sanemi’s heavy pants hang in the air while the eyes of Obanai, Giyu and even Gyomei are set on him.

“You should really start working on your self-esteem, Shinazugawa.”

“JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE Y’ALL!”

No, he can’t stand their bullshit anymore. Without listening to another word, Sanemi stomps away in the direction of his estate.

“(y/n) being in love with me? That I don’t laugh, why would I even care about that girl?”, he mumbles under his breath.

-a few days later-

Sanemi swallows heavy, orbs wandering up and down your body. You’re not wearing your usual black uniform and blooming haori. No, you look like a fucking goddess in that kimono and with those flowers braided into your hair.

“Do you think I look like too much?”, you question quietly, your own eyes wandering down your body in distress.

Maybe it was a mistake wearing that kimono for your meeting with Mitsuri. Of course, you knew she’d ask Obanai and Sanemi to accompany you. After all, it’s no secret that she adores the serpent hashira and knows too well about the feelings you hold for Sanemi. But now that you stand in front of him in something apart from your usual uniform, your confidence is blown away by the wind.

“You have to be kidding me. You look gorgeous”, Sanemi blurts out before thinking twice.

Fuck, did he really say that? You definitely think he’s a creep now. Maybe he should get going before it gets uncomfortable-

Your heart skips a beat, cheeks heating up in an instant. Did Sanemi Shinazugawa just call you gorgeous when he’s standing in front of you in that dark green kimono? How is it possible you’re never seen Sanemi in something apart from his usual uniform, that you never went out with each other?

“You look very handsome yourself. Dark green really suits you well”, you reply shyly.

Is it possible that maybe, just maybe, he might feel the same about you? No, that would be absolutely ridiculous, right?

“(y/n), actually there’s something I wanted to say you for quite some time now…” What the hell is he blabbering about? There’s absolutely nothing he has to tell you apart from how fucking annoying you are. You and your gentle voice, you and your captivating smile. You, the polar opposite of him-

“Oh, I actually wanted to tell you something as well!”, you reply a little too fast.

For a moment, you fear your knees might give in. Is this really the time to tell him about your true feelings? “Sometimes you have to be brave, (y/n), especially when it comes to true love! Confess to him!”

Mitsuri is the love hashira. She should know best, right? But what if you’ll make your relationship only worse by making him uncomfortable? What if he doesn’t even like you?

“Sanemi, I…I actually…I-“

“I love you, (y/n)”, Sanemi finally blurts out.

Oh.

There you stand with your opened mouth and blank mind. Did he really just say that? Maybe he didn’t mean it that what. But what if…What if he actually means it?

“You…love me?”, you breathe out.

“I know I’m your polar opposite and that I treated you like shit and I really don’t expect you to actually like me back. I just…wanted to let you know…”, the white-haired man opposite of you mutters while scratching the back of his head.

“But I actually do like you back…”

Sanemi’s eyes dart towards you immediately, his very own cheeks discolored bright pink.

“You…what?”

“I guess I was just never brave enough to let you know since I was sure you hate me…”, you mutter in response.

“Me, hating you?”

All of the sudden, you find his strong arms wrapped around your waist and his face only inches away from yours. You fail to breathe, your whole body refusing to function properly. That force of a man who never really seemed to care about you while your feelings for him were all over the place…He holds you so tight that your wobbly legs don’t have to carry your weight anymore, his usual so distressed orbs now looking down at you so passionately that your heart skips a beat.

“Do I look like I hate you?”, he challenges while pulling you even closer.

You expected a lot of things that could have happened today. Sanemi Shinazugawa declining Mitsuri’s invitation in the first place. Sanemi Shinazugawa keeping his safe distance to you. Sanemi Shinazugawa barking at you for being a blowhard. Sanemi Shinazugawa criticizing each and every little thing you do. But Sanemi Shinazugawa admitting his love for you, Sanemi Shinazugawa holding you tightly in his arms?

Not in a million years.

“I love you too”, you finally speak out.

“I actually did for quite some time. But I always thought you’d never like me back.“

“Well, here I am liking you back, idiot”, Sanemi mutters.

Is that a smile on his face? Why does it suddenly feel like his lips are moving closer? Oh, you thought about kissing that man countless times. Each and every night, you imagined what the privilege of feeling his soft lips pressed against yours might feel like. Is he rough, gentle? Did the wind hashira already share a kiss or two? Out of instinct, you close your eyes, allow yourself to get lost in his arms.

“Look what we have here. Seems like the two of you finally managed to admit your feelings”, Obanai’s dry voice jeers at you from behind.

Your eyes dart open immediately.

“No Iguro-san! You’re interrupting them!”, Mitsuri hisses.

“Are you too dumb to see we’re in the middle of something? Get lost, you fools!”

“I KNEW IT (Y/N)! I KNEW HE LOVED YOU!”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine

[strawbeerossi]

Taking Calls

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Whenever a man who makes you feel uncomfortable asks for your number, you give him your boyfriend’s number instead. Whenever he texts him all day and finally decides to call, Spencer plans on taking care of it.

Content/Warnings: Minor case details (nothing explicit), creep officer, loving boyfriend Spencer, intimidation mention, kissing, unprotected sex, Spencer answers a phone call in the middle of sex (I didn’t know how to word that so it works lmao.)

Word Count: 1.2K

Anon Request: I had a spicy idea where a creepy cop tries to get readers number for “work purposes” and instead she gives him Spencer’s number and the cop happens to call Spencer and reader while he’s in the middle of fucking reader or the reader is in the middle of giving him a blowjob and the cop sort of hears her in the background? I just thought you’d be the perfect person to write this 😍

Navigation || Criminal Minds Masterlist || Request

🏷️ @kr-1-sta @iluvreid @nervousmoongiver @multifandom-on-the-side @ferrjulie @lov1ngreid @sobbingcryingattsizzles @doriantomybasil @thegluesong @rosiehale23

Spencer had his number given out before due to a prank on Derek’s end that had so many people blowing up his phone. It was something he vowed that he would get the man back for and specifically state that it could never happen again.

The team was on a case in Manhattan, a standard killer who had an awakened blood lust was terrorizing the city. After six victims, the NYPD felt it was best to invite the BAU onto the case, which seemed to be too little too late due to the man going dormant.

Every lead was buried so deep that you’d need an excavator to dig them up, still the team persisted. You were currently on day three, staying back at the police precinct along with Dave to interview the families of the deceased, hoping to dig up any leads.

You had currently stepped out for a brief break, standing by the coffee machine as you were getting one of the disposable cups, filling it to the brim with a healthy mixture of coffee and sugar. “Hey, Y/L/N, correct?” A voice came from behind you, making you turn to look over the person addressing you. Officer Laslow. “Hi, yes. That’s me. How can I help you?” You asked, eyebrows raising.

You didn’t like to judge people, however you had a very uneasy feeling around him. The way he was looking at you was a good enough reason to be uncomfortable, the man seeming to mentally undress you as he stared into your soul. “I was just wondering if your team had any leads? I mean, I’m sure the families know something,” He spoke, making you sigh as your shoulders slumped. “Nothing, unfortunately.” You spoke while sipping from the coffee cup in your hands.

“Nothing? What a shame. I was actually wondering if you and I could exchange numbers? No funny business, I’m just wanting to make sure we can stay in communication throughout this case. You know, share intel.”

He could’ve just asked Aaron for updates. However, in the moment of being uncomfortable and not knowing what to say, you were clearing your throat. “Well. Okay.. Just for intel though.” You murmured, slowly taking the device from his hands to put in Spencer’s number instead of your own. You’d explain things to your boyfriend later. Until then, you were doing the next best option. Spencer could handle this. You were sure of it.

As another day passed and there was no leads, the team was retreating to the hotel for the night to try and get some rest, even if they were overly focused on trying to catch the murderer running around freely. “Honey, I have a question.” Spencer began as he was walking from the bathroom, a pair of flannel pyjama pants and a white t-shirt clinging to his lanky frame. “I’ve just had a lot of texts today. The person is addressing you by name. Wanna talk about who you gave my number to?” He asked softly. He knew it had to be a big deal if you wouldn’t give someone your number.

“Some creep on the NYPD team. You should’ve seen the way he looked at me, Spencer. It made me so uncomfortable.” You shivered while looking over at your boyfriend. “I’m sorry that I gave him your number. I didn’t know what else to do.” The feeling of his hand rubbing your shoulder caused your body to relax, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

“I’m not upset with you by any means. I just wanted to ask. He didn’t try and touch you or force himself on you, right?” He asked, slowly letting his arm wrap around your shoulders as you shook your head. “No. Nothing like that. He was just twice my size and intimidating. I mean, he could’ve hurt me if I rejected him.” In this job, Spencer saw cases like that far too much, so he believed it.

“Come here.” He spoke while slowly pressing a few kisses against your cheek. “It’ll be okay. I’ll speak with Hotch about it tomorrow. It’ll get taken care of.” He smiled, the back of his knuckle gently caressing your cheek. “How did I get so lucky to be with you?” You asked softly, offering a smile as you leaned against his touch. “I’m the lucky one.” He mused, now moving to press a sweet kiss against your lips.

However, the kiss was only cut short whenever he could hear the ringtone on his phone designated for texts. “This guy is a real piece of work.” Your boyfriend muttered against your lips, opting to ignore the incessant sounds coming from his phone as he carried on your shared kiss. As the kids deepened, his hands were working to push your shirt over your head before his hands were working on your work pants. You hadn’t changed just yet, so he felt like he was definitely helping you out in the grand scheme of things.

Once you were undressed to his liking, it wasn’t long until your own hands were pushing at his clothes to bring him to the same level of unclothed as you were. “Lay down.” Spencer breathed as he broke the kiss, watching you push yourself back in bed before he was crawling on top of you to attach your lips once more. You were both eager, a lot of stress from this case as well as your own yearning for pleasure making things go just a little faster than usual. He used one hand to bring one of your legs around his waist, which prompted you to mirror your actions with your other leg.

Pushing your panties to the side, your boyfriend wasted no time pushing his cock inside of your eager cunt, a low groan leaving his lips as the hand propping him up was gripping the sheets. “Fuck. I love you.” He whispered, pressing a few sweet kisses to your lips. For once today, you felt like you could forget the officer from earlier, to enjoy the moment. Until Spencer was getting a call. “Are you kidding?” He huffed out of frustration, hips still thrusting at a slow pace as he was reaching over to take his cellphone from the bedside table.

“W-we should stop.” You breathed, knowing he had to take the call judging by the look on his face. “No. No, just lay there and take it, pretty girl. I’m gonna settle this once and for all.” He murmured. Before you could object, he was swiping to answer the call. “I don’t appreciate being ignored.” The male on the other end of the phone huffed. Just hearing his slimy voice had Spencer cringing. Using his shoulder to hold the phone up to his ear, he let out a soft breath. His hips thrusted into you at a faster speed, your lip tucked between your teeth as you really did try to keep quiet.

“She’s busy but I can take a message.” Spencer answered as if he wasn’t jackhammering you into the mattress right now, whines and moans slipping from your lips as you couldn’t hold them back anymore. “Who is this?” The officer asked, now his annoyance being clear as day. “Spencer!” You gasped out, answering his question without even being aware of it.

“You heard her. Tell the nice man on the phone who has the pleasure of fucking you.” Spencer grunted, making you red in the face as you gripped his upper arms. “You!”

“My name, baby. Tell him who gets to take you home every night.”

“Spencer!” You panted, head tossed back as he was pounding into your sweet spot.

“Now. If you’ll excuse me, I have important matters to attend to. I hope you get the hint.” He murmured.

[cherry-leclerc]

pride ☆ mv1

genre: smut, established relationship, stubborn!max, jealous!max, humor, fluff

word count: 3k

After his DNF, Max finds himself losing his temper when you keep insisting that it was his fault. Due to both ends, you find yourself in a constant battle on who can admit defeat first.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+... gym sex - that's all teheee

req!...super fun to write, thank u, anon for the idea !!

He never liked to be pointed out as the one who did something wrong on track. Then again, he rarely ever made those types of mistakes. Max got along with everyone on the grid, but he was there to win. And he certainly did not need his girlfriend reminding him that he’s human, just like the rest of the drivers.

“Just admit it already, you fucked up this time. You cut him off.”

A DNF was as bad as it could get, his mood quickly deteriorated as he bangs his helmet against the wall. If you weren’t used to his dark behavior, then you would have definitely worried. Instead, you tap your foot impatiently with a deep sigh, eyes rolling with strong annoyance. You didn’t like to see him like this, but it drove you crazy that he could never own up to his wrongdoings. 

The Dutch harshly rips off his balaclava, dirty blond hair sticking against his angry face, normally baby blue eyes switching to a devilish color. “You’re such a…” A deep growl. “He cut me off, and that’s what got us both out of the race. What a fucking dick.”

Your brow raises up, pointing at him with accusement. “My thoughts exactly.” Turning on your heel, you spin around and walk out of his driver's room, leaving him to sulk like a manchild. Stupid, Lando.

As soon as the race ends, you sheepishly make your way to the young Brit. “Is he mad?” he asks. You shrug as if you care about what your boyfriend is feeling at this very moment. Max wasn’t the kind to get mad, he got furious. 

“He’ll get over it. Though I do suggest you run the opposite way if you spot him.” He laughs, eyes crinkling with agreement. After apologizing on behalf of the grumpy Dutchman, you hurry off to find him. Propped up against the door frame, you nervously play with the hem of your dress as you inch your way closer. You can practically see the color red blooming out of him as he smiles bitterly.

“And where were you?” His voice expands softly, it makes your stomach churn, but you put on a brave face nonetheless, refusing to give in to his ego. It doesn’t matter. He chuckles, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek, head shaking in disapproval. “Aren’t I the one you should be consoling? I don’t see why you had to go see him.”

Your eyebrows narrow down sharply. “Max, you’re being a fucking baby, you caused the crash! Lando was just unlucky and I went to let him know, is that so wrong?”

The Dutch fumes, jaw clenching. “You can go see him, I don’t give a fuck, but stop saying it was my fault. He closed in on me.” You scoff, arms crossed. “This is pure bullshit.”

“Whatever, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m glad you’re alright,” you sourly say, pushing past him to go and retrieve your things, getting ready to leave back to the hotel. His nose twitches, following after you. Neither of you utter a single word, simply packing and strolling out the door. As soon as the media gets involved and Lando walks by with a shy smile and wave, he instinctively grabs your hand, leading you through the tight crowd with a bright smile, despite his crash. 

Setting aside your differences, you’re grateful for his sweet gesture, even if it laces with a bit of possessiveness. The drive is tense, only the sound of the blinker being heard. You try adding some music, but as soon as he turns off the radio, you turn to him, hair slapping your flushed face. “Why did you do that?” Your hand slides back up, turning it on. He repeats his same actions, leaving you to burn lasers to the side of his head. 

“Your music is complete shit.” Surprised by his cold tone, your right eye twitches like a crazy person before turning your attention back towards the road. He feels bad. He’s not mad at you, not even at his friend. But he wasn’t the biggest fan of letting his team down, and much less, owning up to it. 

Pushing the door open, you march in, making your way to the bathroom, ready to shower off the irritation. Max trails after you without a second thought, then you slam the door right on his face. He blinks. He can hear you turning the water on, stripping down. “You’re taking a shower by yourself this time, you dickhead.”

-

The next few races run smoother as he finishes in first place for most of them. All of them, actually. But his wins aren’t worth it in the end. Not with your rigid congratulations, forced kisses as you wait for him along with a puddle of photographers. It shouldn’t strike him as strange; you were still upset. For a second, he considers putting his pride aside and try to fix things, make amends, but when you mumble next to him, he quickly throws that out the window. 

“Baby finally got fed his bottle.”

All his pent up emotions came rushing back as you wear an innocent smile. With a sullen glare, he walks out, leaving you to gloat. Two can play that game. 

Here’s the thing with yours and Max's relationship; it was amazing. A fucking dream. You loved each other like crazy, but when you both get into an argument, it can drag out for the longest time. Your friends had pointed it out countless times, accusing you two for being freakishly stubborn. Oftentimes, he’d be the first to give up and apologize, and sometimes it was you. Only this time, it looked like a long haul. 

It was a weird dynamic. He still kissed you goodbye, reminded you how much he loved you. You still attended his races, glowed with sincere happiness for every podium of his, but apart from that, you two still held on to your end of the rope. And it’s been so long. One month? Maybe two?

“Four fucking months,” Max grunts, large hands fixing his drinking straw that connects to his suit. The Dutch is clearly frustrated, Checo could tell as he warily eyes his teammate. The Mexican driver poured out an amused chuckle. Max curls a dark brow. “What?”

Checo halts. “Nothing, man. You’re just being so…how do I put this nicely?” He clicks his fingers enthusiastically. “You’re acting like a douchebag. Puras pendejadas, lo que estás haciendo.” The blue eyed boy shakes his head.

“I don’t know what you mean by that.” He walks away.

“It means you’re doing stupid shit for absolutely no reason. Take it from me, I’m married! I know what I’m talking about, and as your elder, I suggest apologizing. It’ll fix everything, trust me.” But Max only ignores him, already climbing into his car. As much as he would love to try and make things right with the woman he adores like a complete idiot, there’s always something that ruins it. Whether it’s you witty reminders, or your cruel ignorance.

Though, he feels like he’s going crazy. He can feel his hands itch as they beg to hug you the way they were used to. Or to kiss your plump lips, slightly red from your constant nibbles. You can feel his eyes on you as you cut up a group of vegetables, getting things ready for dinner. Like a tease, you bend down to pick up the bag of carrots that had just fallen. You giggle. “Whoops.”

Abruptly, he stands up. “I’m going to get in a small workout before we eat.” That’s all. Left there with your jaw on the floor, you slam the knife against the cutting board. 

You missed him. You’d be insane not to. You missed cuddling with him after a long day. You missed the way he would cradle your face to kiss you eagerly after every win. Now it’s almost as if you’re a couple of strangers with the way he keeps a careful distance. And if he wasn’t going to fix things, then you would force him to.

He hears you before he actually sees you. Not a single word escapes past your lips as you skip closer. His molars grind together when he notices your tiny skirt, paired with a tank top. Perky tits salute him as he holds back a groan. Smiling sweetly, you start to stretch. “Thought I’d join you. Didn’t want to eat without you.”

His heart squeezes, ghostly nodding. Adjusting himself on the bench, he starts his set of overhead presses. Loopy eyes circle his glistening muscles as he pants tiredly, shaky breaths bouncing off of him. You have to physically stop yourself from drooling an entire ocean. 

The blue eyed boy leads an impressive set, a thin layer of sweat coating him like a blanket. One you would gladly roll around in. Pursing your lips, your limbs feel extremely weak all of a sudden and decide to settle with laying down and bringing your legs up, skirt sliding down, exposing your soft skin. 

“So tight,” you whine when you reach up, muscles tied up in an uncomfortable spot. Intrigued, your boyfriend takes a peek and instantly curses, large hands gripping against the metal bar. He gulps. “Maxie, can you push my legs back for me?”

His breath hitches. “No. I’m sure you can do that yourself.”

Sitting up straight, you squint your beady eyes at him as he distracts himself by adding more weight to his set. You click your tongue, a menacing grin tugging at your pink lips. “Messed up, baby, you are messed up.”

Max curses himself for falling in love with someone as beautiful as you. It seriously messed him up a concerning amount. Suddenly there was no more cold demeanor when it came to you. That simply just belonged to the rest because you were everything to him.

“First, you’re too much of a pussy to admit your mistakes and now you’re too scared to get near me?” You scoff. “It’s all starting to add up.”

Except at this very moment.  

“And what exactly is that? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

Kneeling down onto the black mat, you stretch your arms out against it, and lay your back flat. You hum. “Oh.” You arch your back, ass angling upwards where his eyes quickly trace to. You smirk. “Nothing.”

If he weren’t so impressed by your bratty act, he would have definitely walked out on you. But you just looked so pretty, rosy, and you were glistening. He wonders what else there was on top of that. The Dutch moves on to a bench press. Huffing, he grits his teeth as he extends his arm before puffing and bringing them back down.

The 26 year old, despite your attempts, was as focused as he could possibly be. The adrenaline was lingering in his entire system as he kept his eyes trained upward. Chest locking tightly, muscles contracting. And then he hears it. Your tiny moans, soft whimpers.

The loud sound of him dropping the weight makes you jump up a bit before looking up. He finds you in your first position you had started with when you first stepped foot into the home gym. He can feel his cock press harshly against his white shorts. “Why are you…” He trails off when your mouth drops open, brows scrunching together. Your thighs beg to be kissed. Slippery arms tug your legs closer to you as you giggle. 

“My legs are too tight.” His chest tightens. “Help me get more flexible?” you press innocently as you signal for him to push your legs. “Please, Maxie.”

Sighing, he nods. As soon as he steps close to you, he can feel your pouring lust, fuck me eyes staring back up at his frame. Grabbing the heels of your feet, he pushes back as you groan. “Oh shit.” You laugh, chest vibrating against the mat. “I really needed the extra push.”

He grimaces. A silence lingers between you two before you wiggle your left foot against his palm. He raises a confused brow. I’m going to tuck it to my chest. Just hold the right one. Doing as instructed, you sigh in relief, lashes fluttering. He holds back a much needed grunt. “You’re telling me you couldn’t do this yourself?”

You nip the air. “We’re not all professional athletes, Max. I needed you.”

You can see how hard your implication is hitting him as his gaze darkens. And just as he’s about to reach out for you, you wiggle your brows. Next leg. Snapping out of trance, he eyes the way your skirt rides down your skin. In a swift movement, he lets go and takes a staggered step back. You grin. What’s wrong?

“You’re crazy.”

Standing up, you place both hands on your waist. “Why?”

Max doesn’t even recall when he pins you against the wall, your hair flying from the impactful blow, and yet, you’re smirking. Kissing you harshly, you groan, leaning against your tippy toes as you struggle to breath. He seems to be lost in your lips as he cradles your face, teeth clashing against yours at the filthy action. “You’re so beautiful,” he pants, blues staring back. “So fucking beautiful.”

Whimpering, you reach back out for him, plump lips attacking his thick neck as he sighs. The purple bruises were definitely something he would hound you on tomorrow, but for now that was the least of his worries. Admiring the colorful spot, you lick it slowly. He shudders. 

“I can suck something else, you know?”

You almost don’t recognize his growl, for you haven’t heard it in so long, that it catches you by surprise as he spins you around, bending you over the nearest counter, where his wall of protein stands. He hitches your skirt up as you gasp when his fingers slide inside of you. The way he stretches you out makes you see stars as you struggle to keep upward. 

“Wore this just for me, right? You knew it would drive me crazy?” His long fingers curl at the perfect angle as you nod. Yes, yes. I wore it just for you. I knew you’d like it. You squeal when he lifts you up, tits pressing against the cold marble, legs dangling like a doll. His doll. He watches the way you swallow his digits. “I fucking love it, baby…”

Then, he’s down on his knees as he wraps his lips around your clit. Moaning loudly, you press your cheek against the cool tiles, saliva dripping out of your mouth at the sensation. In your fucked up state, you still reach out for him as he grabs your hand. “You taste so sweet,” he hums. You’re close to crying when he pulls away, but calm down when he thrusts into you. 

The Dutch throws his head back as soon as your velvety walls wrap around his cock, the way you swallow him whole. Makes him hate himself for holding onto his pride for so long. For keeping you away. His heart races when you prop yourself on your elbows as stare back at him with tired, lustful eyes. He grins, slapping your ass as you yelp. You ass tilts up as he watches you struggle to keep up. 

Warm hands come up to keep you close to him as you bite down on your lip. “You’re a fucking brat, but God, I hate it because you were right. I pushed him off. I did, I did, I did…” His dirty hair sticks against his face as you bounce forward with every pound. “But he was making you laugh - smile - and I just couldn’t handle that.”

Your heart stops. This was news to you because there was no way the Max you knew so well would break his winning streak all due to a friendly encounter. He pecks your bare shoulder. “I don’t think you understand how much I love you.”

“Then show me.”

WIth that, he holds onto your hips with more grip as his tip brushes repeatedly against your g-spot. You’re a mess, but he’s loving every second of it. As soon as he wraps a large hand around your breast, you’re gone, spluttering white all around him as he follows. With a croaky groan, he slips out as you fall back to your original spot. He chuckles. He fixes your skirt before helping you sit up to face him. Your eyes crinkle. 

“You love me,” you say in a sing-song voice as you poke his dimple. I thought I made that clear. You scrunch your nose, pecking his face all over with sloppy kisses. He playfully winces, but accepts nonetheless. “You love me, love me. Why would you ever worry about me and Lando? You know he’s just a friend.”

His smile drops as it's replaced with a scowl. “I wasn’t worried, per se. I don’t like someone else making you laugh. That’s my job.”

Your brows arch. “What are you suggesting? That I just keep mute for the rest of my days, unless I’m with you?”

Max shrugs. “Sounds like a solid plan.”

You smack his chest as he throws his head back with laughter. “No. Not a solid anything. Max, I love you.”

“I know,” he whispers. 

“Okay,” you confirm, fixing your posture, lips pursing. “But please never do that again, that’s just plain out dangerous and crazy. A big no-no, Emilian.” He glares and your lips wobble childishly. “You love wins, and I love celebrating them with you. It just works.”

“You know what doesn’t work?” he retorts as he hugs you. You hum, comfortable against his warmness. “Not talking to me for four months, what were you thinking?” You push him away abruptly. We spoke! “But we didn’t fuck, and that’s the same thing.”

Crossing your arms, you roll your eyes as he stares back in awe. “If you keep this up then I’m going to crank it up to eight,” you threaten. 

The Dutch nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck before you cave in. “Let’s not do that. You’d be breaking my heart.”

taglist: @myownwritings @d3kstar @crucifiedbitch

*note: i've only tagged those who asked to be included in general. i've kept that apart from the method acting series taglist!! lmk in which you would like to be, just in case!

[anantaru]

i haven’t stopped thinking abt wrio like,,, bodyguard wrio,,, underground fighter wrio,,, hate sex wrio,,, god help me

cw. bodyguard wriothesley, overprotective, possessive & dom, fem! reader

bodyguard wriothesley who likes to leave you staggering on the edge of a spinning insanity when he intentionally addresses you as "sweetheart", "princess" or "my lady" whenever he follows your orders, and it really doesn't matter to him where the both of you would currently be— if, lets assume, a quick shopping spree around fontaine or something more to his own liking, such as having you pushed down on a bed by your hips, parting your legs with his knee as large hands easily slide and secure around your waist.

bodyguard wriothesley who makes your mouth fall open on a hard, broken gasp when he swiftly traps you in place right under his strong frame, spurring you into immediate action by a dirty comment such as, "you're so sensitive, my lady." was in fact, a deep sort of satisfaction that gets you to ease up and forget yourself for a second, or the obvious fact that you're currently fucking your own personal bodyguard and that it might not be the best out of all your ideas, yet it still feels so fucking fine when he does it.

and archons, does he know what to do to keep you spiraling into euphoric bliss.

bodyguard wriothesley who adores whenever you tumble over your little, pathetic mewls when he pushes his fat tip inside of you for the very first time this night, and he notices how you're tightening up a bit when he adds another inch and spits on your cunt to have you all wet and nice, deep drags penetrating your most delicious spots while you're still loose enough that wriothesley can rub over your pulsating walls splendidly, tasting the soft clench of a warm, sore pussy on his throbbing girth.

bodyguard wriothesley who hooks up a smile at you, pearly whites grabbing your attention, admiring just how unbelievably cute you were— his boss, his princess and he could spend his entire day fucking you just the way you wanted it, with his dripping dick shafting through your pussy, manhandling you while plunging his lips against your tits to attach his hungry mouth to your nipples.

and how good you were, ah what a sight, able to swallow his cock, despite its size, working your sopping insides into the vast shape of his length so you're all marked up for him, because do keep in mind for a second— he was the one protecting you, and he would lie to himself if he'd say he couldn't become a little too possessive every now and then, while watching out that no one would bother you, no guy talk to you and wriothesley loved taking care of your needs, in many more ways than an outside person would assume— whilst all the others who even dared to look your precious, enticing way?

they aren't even half as tall as him, half as strong as him or most importantly, half as good in bed as him— the man was confident that no other was able to make you scream and enjoy yourself just the way he did.

and you were aware of that, sometimes cursing yourself as to why you let it go on for so long and be that unprofessional— but then he's here to quickly make you regret nothing at all— with your mind hanging in the clouds, still blank and the loud blows of gluttonous moans and your sexes bumping against each other, that you'd never ever feel more protected by any other individual, only him, your hands swiftly finding flaming solace in his soft locks when you hide yourself in his warm neck, pressing frenzied smooches around his defined shoulder as wriothesley groans out deep, "fuck— princess!", sensing how you're about to lose yourself to a high.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[toji-sweetheart]

18+ only content - mdni

tags: fem reader + explicit smut

"Just let me have a little..." Eren broke off as you stepped away from his prying touch, his fingers barely grazing the hem of your skirt.

You looked at him from the other side of the couch your eyes looked away from the book seated in your lap to see green eyes stayed focused on you. 

"Let you have a little what, Ren? What do you want?" You asked spreading your legs watching him lick his lips almost devilishly as he leaned forward but instead was met with your foot planted firmly on his chest stopping him from making contact with your cunt which was open and on display, no panties to get in his way either. 

A frown tugged his plush lips down. “A taste, that’s all I want. We’ve been sitting here and I’m bored,” he complained shifting his weight in hopes of alleviating his raging hard-on and popping a tent in his shorts, you couldn’t help but laugh at him, he really does look cute between your legs, hair half up in a messy bun, chocolate strands framing his handsome face. 

“Beg for it then,” you told him glancing back down at your book.

More times than not you were the one begging for him, sweet cries fueling Eren’s ego hearing you.

Now it was your turn to hear him, and you weren’t going to give up so easily. 

He licked his lips again eying your pussy and laying on his stomach keeping his hands on your thighs giving you a slight squeeze. “I want to eat that sweet cunt of yours until your are nothing but a cum-covered mess.” 

His words felt like a zap to your clit that throbbed as did your pussy, clenching around nothing. “Mhm, you can do better than that baby.” You cooed sweetly dropping your book on the stand next to the couch before wrapping a strand of his hair around your finger tugging slightly. 

Eren let out a throaty laugh before leaning in and kissing your knee.

“You really want me to beg?” 

“If I didn’t want you to then I’d already be seated on your face, right?” You shot back raising an eyebrow. 

He copied you mirroring your look. “Ok, I’ll bite. You want me to beg? Beg for you to sit on my face, thighs on either side of my head as you fuck my mouth, hold onto my hair if you need, and pull on it. I want to hear you moan. Please.” 

With a deep inhale he squeezed your thighs again blowing air softly over your pussy causing shivers to run through you. “I won’t stop until you want me to, I just want to make you feel good, yeah? I know you like it when you get to do that, just let me eat you out.” 

Your lips pursed before pulling into a smile. “Still not good enough.” 

Eren scoffed fighting the urge to roll his eyes, he wasn’t a very patient man and he knows it won’t take long to break down your walls. 

“Me asking you nicely, even a pretty please with sugar on top still isn’t good enough? What do I have to do then to have you seated on my face like your own personal chair?” 

“Beg. Weren’t we just talking about this?” You asked tugging on his hair again feeling the puff of air blow over you, your slick beaded down your cunt catching his attention, your smell surrounded him like a heavy perfume clouding his head. 

“I did damn it, come on please baby, let me taste you please-fuck-I just want to-” 

You waved your hand cutting him off, “Lay on your back then, but maybe just ask one more time.” You laughed as Eren sat up quickly peeling his shirt off and looking at you with hungry eyes as he laid down and patted his cheeks.

“Sit down,” he demanded gently as you crawled up to his face keeping your thighs on either side of his head lowering yourself on his mouth but not before his hands found purchase on your waist pulling you down. 

His tongue lapped between your pusslips finding your clit sucking harshly on the bud moaning loudly, the wet sounds of him devouring you rang in your ears as you tangled your fingers in his hair pulling on the strands making his cock stir in his shorts, pre-cum staining the light-colored fabric of his shorts. 

Your other hand stayed perched on the armrest while you rolled your hips over Eren’s mouth, his fingers stayed on your waist keeping you on his face, his face was covered with spit, and your slick and it has to be one of the hottest things he’s ever experienced.

You could feel the rumbles of his deep moans against your cunt as flicked his tongue over your clit, his mind was running a million miles per minute when you leaned forward covering his face with your skirt as to grind harder against him. 

To say Eren’s whining was pathetic is at its best, he acted like you were never going to sit on his face again, to give in to his whining, his mewling grew louder as did the wet lewd sounds of his tongue lapping at you wildly bringing your orgasm over the edge, muscles tightened and burned as your cunt pulsed gushing on Eren’s tongue. 

“See what happens if you just ask nicely?” you cooed pulling away to sit on the other side of the couch grinning at your boyfriend who wiped the back of his mouth, he chuckled then grabbed your ankles pulling you down before hovering over you. 

“And who says I’m done?” 

feedback such as comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, those kind words mean a lot and encourage me to do more writing ♡

[o-sachi]

You're Just My Type pt. 1 ₊⊹ Blue Lock Chars.

ଳ What kind of person is the blue lock boys' ideal girl in terms of looks and personality?

ଳ characters; michael kaiser, sae itoshi, isagi yoichi, rin itoshi, bachira meguru, chigiri hyoma, nagi seishirou, reo mikage, kunigami rensuke, alexis ness

ଳ requested by; @itenesycc

[🐟]: I tried to include as many as possible. Hopefully this fulfills your request! I might make a part two with everyone else I missed.

‎

ᯓ Michael Kaiser - the domestic & doting type

Kaiser turns into the biggest baby around his s/o. How could he not? She spoils him rotten after all. And she hardly minds because she knows that he's just seeking out the care and affection he missed out in his childhood. In a way, he's healing his inner child. Don't get me wrong; he's not using her as some sort of replacement for a parent figure. But he's trying to feel what it's like to be truly loved.

He absolutely loves it when she cooks for him. His heart throbs like crazy whenever their s/o shows even the slightest bit of concern for him. And don't even get him started about the way she would take care of him before and after his practice. At the end of the day, he makes sure to reciprocate her efforts in his own little ways. Suddenly, he's the kindest, most gentle, and most loving man on Earth. And whenever his salary comes in, she's sure to be at a fancy restaurant that night and receiving the queen treatment she deserves.

I have a feeling that he's into nice looking hair. It doesn't matter if it's long or short as long as it's healthy and has volume to it. He's probably into dyed hair as well. He also finds that beautiful hair pairs up well with a pretty set of eyes. The more expressive they are, the better.

ᯓ Sae Itoshi - the shy & soft-spoken type

Sae might seem like a big b*tch to everyone else, but he's surprisingly nice to women (as long as they're not a crazy fanatic). Well... "nice" is a bold term, so let's just say he's aloof. He's not harsh towards them, but he's not going to smile at them either. But! Deep down he has a soft spot for the cute and shy kind of girl. He just can't find it in him to be cold to that kind of person; It almost feels wrong.

But, yes, he'll never admit that in a million years. However, the changeup is noticeable. It's subtle, but you can tell through how his voice softens ever so slightly when talking to his s/o. She might be cursing herself for failing to maintain eye contact with him or tripping over her sentences. But Sae finds all of this quite endearing. And trust me when I say that he becomes the biggest menace around her—making her flustered at every opportunity he comes across. He can't get enough of it.

In terms of looks, he likes it when a girl has soft features with short hair that frames her rounded face. Her plump cheeks make it more enjoyable for him to poke whenever he teases her. It's also canon that he's into ass... so, yeah. He says it's all about the shape and less about the size.

ᯓ Isagi Yoichi - the funny & carefree type

Isagi had the luxury of growing up in a healthy environment, so I think it's only natural for him to gravitate towards someone the same. If she has a great sense of humor with a relaxed demeanor, then he's pretty much sold. Frankly, he doesn't need anything more. Isagi finds beauty in simplicity. His s/o is someone akin to a hidden gem. She isn't flashy by any means, but she's incredibly sweet so she stands out that way.

He wonders why no one has gone after her before. But, oh well, more of her for him! She never fails to make him laugh even if the jokes are corny. They're the type of couple everyone's annoyed at because they're too sweet and now they feel jealous. Oh, but Isagi fell even harder once she witnessed his different side while playing football. He fully expected her to be repulsed, but she was amused. Apparently it was cool to see him so pumped up like that.

He's not that particular when it comes to looks. As long as she has a gentle expression and she takes care of herself, he'll be happy. When it comes to clothes... well, he has no clue about that so even a simple style impresses him. He's really a low maintenance guy and we love him for that. Canonically into thighs, so he doesn't care if it's plump or muscular—he's content as long as he can squeeze 'em.

ᯓ Rin Itoshi - the perfectionist & intelligent type

When you think of the title "Ice Queen"—whatever comes to mind, that's exactly his type. In other words, I have a STRONG feeling that Rin is essentially going for the female version of himself. He doesn't give a shit if she's worse than him. In fact, that makes it better in his opinion. Someone's gotta put him in place, right? He'll happily let her do that as long as he deems her on par with him. And I don't mean that she has to be a football freak; she just needs to be more or less well-rounded.

Apart from his standards being sky high, he just wants to make sure that his girl is better than his brother's girl. Toxic, I know. But what were you expecting? Regardless, he'll always make sure to let her know that she's the best in his eyes. Totally out of character, but he'll be praising her like crazy if he's truly in love with her. I can definitely see an enemies-to-lovers story happening to this guy.

He's probably into the clean girl aesthetic. He finds the look elegant and sleek. It makes her look like she has her shit together and he digs that. Perhaps he prefers dark medium length hair—so, brown and black hues.

ᯓ Bachira Meguru - the calm & laid-back type

When I say calm and laid-back, I don't necessarily mean someone who's the polar opposite of him. She's still going to be as hyper and energetic as him... just a bit more lowkey. Like if they were to go on an amusement park date and ride a rollercoaster—he'd be screaming his lungs out while she'd enjoy the ride quietly with a big smile plastered on her face. She'd gladly let him drag her to whatever crazy scheme he has planned. Spontaneous, but blends into the background kind of thing.

In a way, she's also responsible for mellowing him a little bit. Even though she's fully supportive of his antics, he'll unconsciously calm down at times to match her energy. He especially loves her because she accepts all of the overwhelming affection that he has to offer. Hugs that squeeze the air out of you? Sure, she'll take it. Kisses peppered relentlessly over her face? Great! Just another day for her.

I have this teensy feeling that Bachira might be into ponytails or pigtails. He thinks it makes any girl look cute regardless of the length of her hair. When it comes to height, he's the dude that does not care if she's taller than him. To be fair, he's pretty damn tall, so that should say something about him. Similar to Isagi, he cares more about personality.

ᯓ Chigiri Hyoma - the sassy & independent type

I'll just say it... but Chigiri likes his girls a bit b*tchy. Not rude, not mean—but just the right amount of sass. She's not a bitch. She's THE bitch. You get me? He just loves how witty and snarky she can be. It makes the relationship more fun knowing that she can keep up with the banter without taking any offense. They definitely have an inside joke—something something about who has better hair...

She thinks she's his biggest supporter, but it's actually the other way around. The way this man will support his girl is like no other. He can't help it when he's dating a girlboss. Chigiri admires that she's headstrong and knows what she wants. Like ask her where she wants to eat and she'll give you a place... and an order.

Long pretty hair. No ifs, no buts. He wants someone that can rival his hair routine. Chigiri would even be the one to tie a pretty pink ribbon in her locks. I see him digging the whole clean girl aesthetic as well. He's into the preppy style—old money or academia fits best.

ᯓ Nagi Seishirou - the patient & reliable type

I'll be real and say that Nagi probably wasn't the best person to be in a relationship with in the early stages. Of course, he needs some time to get used to having a whole other person constantly be around his space, requiring his attention. It's going to be a difficult ordeal, so it's totally valid to get exhausted. But once he realizes how patient and understanding she is, he'll try harder for her.

One day he'll just wake up on a random morning missing her warmth, then his mind will wander to what his life would be like without her. He'd be terrified to the point that he'll do a full 360 and become the most doting he's ever been. Well, he'll nowhere be near overbearing, but he'll at least show that he cares.

He prefers it when she has short hair or if she has longer hair—she would normally have it in an updo. He says long hair makes it itchy when he nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck when cuddling. And speaking of cuddling, Nagi would love it if she was built for warm cuddling. He falls asleep in seconds like a Minecraft character.

ᯓ Reo Mikage - the down-to-earth & responsible type

One of Reo's biggest considerations when it comes to finding love is his partner's perception of money. He's insanely rich, so it's understandable that he wants to find someone who isn't going to date him solely for his bank. He's going to be wary of everyone at first, but he'll fold once he finds someone who's genuinely practical and down-to-earth. Reo will be smitten knowing that she's staying with him because of... him.

With that being said, she needs to be responsible as well. I mean, responsible in the sense that she has her life together. She works hard towards her dreams which matches his goal-oriented persona. If she's financially responsible then, even better. Make those budget spreadsheets in front of him and he'll be impressed. In the end, he spoils her anyway.

Reo's probably into the unique kind of look. She dyed her hair a fun color and wears bold fashion pieces. Minimalist tattoos and piercings are her thing. He'll definitely take pictures of her and post her on his social media—practically bragging about her. He may or may not have paid for most of her tats and piercings because he thinks they're hot.

ᯓ Kunigami Rensuke - the tough & street smart type

Kunigami is a strong-willed person before and after the wildcard. So, of course, he'd be drawn to someone of the same air. His ideal girl is someone who can handle herself in tough situations—someone with a gritty, no-nonsense attitude and a street-smart edge. She knows how to navigate the challenges of life with a cool head and a confident stride. In other words, she can fight her own battles, but appreciates that Kunigami would always be there by her side regardless.

He's attracted to her because she isn't afraid to speak up for herself or for whatever she stands for, even if it means challenging him. They both believe that actions speak louder than words and they constantly express that belief towards each other in their relationship. Together, they're the power couple that everyone aspires to be.

In terms of appearance, he's not too fussy about it. He's more attracted to the fact that she's confident in her body. But he would definitely bark for her if she was a muscle mommy. Her fashion sense is practical yet stylish, reflecting her no-fuss attitude. Kunigami loves that she can effortlessly switch between tough and tender, and he's always in awe of her versatility.

ᯓ Alexis Ness - the creative & clingy type

Ness is into the artsy girls. Doesn't really matter if it's drawing, painting, theater, or writing—as long as she possesses the creative spirit. He believes that the creation of art is magical in and of itself. It's not supernatural by any means, but the fact that she can create something with her own hands that no one else can exactly replicate baffles him. He's the biggest fan of her works—that's for sure. It's practically praise galore when he's around.

He feels the most loved when his girl expresses the desire to be around him whenever she can. Quality time and physical affection are his non-negotiables in a relationship. And unlike most people, he'd find her clinginess endearing rather than annoying. He's going to be so generous with his affection—she better be prepared to take in ALL of it.

He's also very much into girls with tattoos. The regular black ink ones are nice, but the colorful tats are amazing. Bonus points if the tattoo has sentimental value to her. I think he's also similar to Bachira in that he doesn't mind if she's taller than him. She wants to wear heels on date night? By all means, go ahead. He'll compliment her anyway.

ε( ε ˙³˙)ɜ ｡° ⚬ ｡ likes and reblogs are appreciated

pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[solbaby7]

Nothing Even Matters

pairing: cassian x reader

warnings: swearing, probably typos, some angst, mentions of trauma, some fluff

summary: When the only thing you want during your recovery is the very person who put you there in the first place.

[ part one ]

—

“How’s it feel?”

“Fuck you,” You seethe through your teeth, words slurred from the wires holding your jaw shut—only for a few days, they said with remorse but all you could feel was such all-consuming rage. Such intense anger because you couldn’t move your body how you wanted; your arm was stiff in the tight bandaging holding it to your body while the dislocation and fractures healed.

Azriel glanced over at Rhysand who was offering Madja a sheepish smile, hands tucked in his pockets as he stood beside you. “Believe it or not, that was a lot nicer than some of the other words she’s been stringing together.”

“She shouldn’t be talking at all. Healing from a broken jaw is no easy feat—talking before the bone properly sets can lead to us needing to rebreak it all over again.” The heated glare you send her way could’ve killed if they were sharpened swords and Azriel has to step in front of you to ease the stormcloud you were casting above the room. Madja doesn’t seem to mind, urging the spymaster to step aside while she began her assessment. “Follow my finger,” Your eyes narrow with hate but you comply after a beat of time. “Good, no noticeable neurological deficits,” She scribbles something in a notepad, noting down the amount of pain meds you’d been receiving and an update of your vitals. “Your swelling seems to have gone down significantly—does it still hurt when I touch here?”

The High Lord cringes at the stream of profanities that slam at the edge of his mind; an act you’d been subconsciously doing since the moment the tonics for the pain had worn off the first time three days ago. You’d shoved your anguish out as far as it would go, so hard Rhysand had choked on a breath, hands clenching at his sides as he put forth more effort than normal to keep his mental shields up. “She says yes.”

Your hand taps once at Azriel’s arm and when he looks at you, you give him a jerky nod of your head. “She wants to know when she can go home?”

Madja lowers the notebook, voice annoyingly calm and full of understanding; not deterred by your attitude in the slightest. In fact, she seems to expect it, smiling softly before speaking, “Have you been eating?”

Your hand slams down twice on the table before you.

It’s jarring; aggression was never something you’d displayed often, if ever, but Azriel only takes a step closer, nearly sitting on the edge of your cot with an arm wrapped around the back of your pillow.

“I’ll assume that’s a yes.” Madja continues writing, bullet pointing your behavior and way you reel in your snark for the shadowsinger beside you. “Have you been able to get to the bathroom on your own?”

Two more slams against the table but these are much harsher than the first, a cup full of water splashing at the sides and Azriel lets out a sigh. “Not on her own but she’s really close. The dizziness just gets to her when she’s standing for too long.”

Rhysand spares a glance at the towering frame standing in the corner behind them absorbing every word like a child experiencing the world for the first time. Cassian had been unbearably quiet, avoiding Azriel at all costs but he was the first who’d noticed you beginning to stir awake. He’d barely left, always getting caught with a rag and warm water, dragging at your skin gentler than fingertips on flower petals. Rhys had to knock Cass out himself when the med staff came to take you away, advising that the wiring was imperative but the General couldn’t stop screaming about how you’d already been through enough; about how you deserved a full day of peace before putting you through even more pain.

“Any other symptoms besides the dizziness?”

You hesitate, heated gaze faltering for a beat of time before you’re slamming your hand down once and Cassian waits a full thirty seconds; golden eyes boring into Azriel’s back, urging him to mention the nausea, the splitting headaches that had you gripping at the first hand you came in contact with for any sort of comfort.

But, Azriel doesn’t say a thing.

“That’s good, what about—“

“Headaches,” Cassian’s voice is raspy with such little use and he’s more than grateful for the brace preventing you from moving around too much because he’s certain one of those sickeningly sharp glares were being specially crafted with his name on it. “She gets headaches and throws up sometimes because of one of the tonics—it’s orange.”

Madja, ever the professional hums in acknowledgment, scribbling down more notes and a furrow grows at her brow. “Could be an allergy or maybe the mixture is too much on your stomach without solid foods yet,” She not even talking to you, just muttering her thoughts aloud while the others tense; awaiting your reaction. They wait for the ball to drop; wait for the throwing of the first item in sight. It wouldn’t have been the first time and Az’s shadows had gotten surprisingly good at predicting it, darkness darting before the window before you could smash it to pieces since Madja insisted she’d dock any damages from your pay. “Thank you, General, that was quite helpful.”

A full minute passes and still, there’s no yelling; no frustrated grunts or shouting in your mind—just utter silence and you’re too busy settling further into your pillow to notice Rhys’ curious stare.

“If you can manage no talking for seventy-two hours then I will clear you to finish your recovery from home,” You’re nodding before she can finish, Azriel gently pushing you back when you try to sit up in your excitement. “I mean it—I’ll know if you aren’t taking the physical therapy seriously. At least an hour of walking a day ; slowly so you don’t aggravate your ribs and I’ll take off the shoulder wrap if you swear not to do any heavy lifting of any kind.” You throw her a pointed look, a hand waving around to motion at the three men that had been permanently stationed around you.

“We’ll take good care of her.”

Madja exhales a steady breath, hands resting at her sides and way she regards you is nearly motherly; relief settling into her features when she can confidently say you’ll make it. “Then, I suppose you’re free to go.”

—

“Come on she said at least an hour.”

Azriel is a sturdy pillar before you, arms crossed and shadows incessantly tug at the thick duvet you’d been grasping at like your life depended on it since he barged in ten minutes ago. You grunt in disapproval, settling deeper into the mattress and you shield your eyes from the bright light steadily pouring through—even though you remembered closing the curtains last night.

“You’ve already skipped breakfast and lunch; it’s nearly three in the afternoon. Get up.”

Your inability to speak seems to work in your favor because all you offer Az in return is a hand peeking from the covers to flip him off.

A pause and one eye pries open when you hear footsteps retreating. Five minutes pass, then five more before you relax back into the fluffy pillows, dragging the covers up to your chin and a content smile curves at the corner of your mouth for a fraction of a second before your entire body is drenched in freezing cold water.

You lurch from the bed like a creature rising from the dead, feet bare and legs on full display when you slowly stare up at the pleased shadowsinger, eyes wide and arms frozen in surprise as you dripped all over the floor like a wet dog. “Good. Since you’re up and showered, let’s go downstairs and get you something to eat.” Azriel’s looping an arm in your own and leading you out before you even have time to change, sloshing footsteps left in your wake and when you enter the sitting room Mor has to slap a hand over her mouth to hide the laughter.

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

It’s harmless teasing; friendly laughs and eyes lined with water when they mention the rats nest atop your head but Cassian’s boisterous laugh doesn’t join in on the fun. He takes one look at you and quietly leaves the room; he'd been doing that a lot since the accident—ever so present when you weren't consious and practically non-existent when you were.

You catch Feyre staring at the bruises on your neck, the thick bandage stuck in place on your temple, how stiff your posture was from the tight wrappings securing your ribs in place and she flushes when you offer her a tight-lipped smile, trying to appear more sturdy than you looked. "Sit, I'll get your food."

Eyes roll at Az's choice of words, easing over to the couch with a low grunt. Food was a sorry excuse for whatever the fuck you'd been sentenced to consume until the wires were removed. A thick porridge like substance with a distinct grit that lingered on your tongue no matter how much water you chased it with.

It was nice to be home though, to sleep in your own bed and being able to ease the tension with a hot bath and a stealthily stolen glass of wine—even if it was impossible to wash your hair or to change your clothes without assistance. Fresh air breezes through the windows, ruffling the curtains and the High Lord is quick to dry your clothes with a wave of his hand. With nothing more than a quick touch to his shoulder in thanks, the others watch you brace your weight against things to get to the hallway, turning left in the same direction Cass had gone earlier.

It’s not hard to find him, cooped up in his room with a glass of amber liquid in hand; eyes trained on the crackling fire. “What are you doing in here?” He’s up in a flash, wings pulled tight behind him and a broad shoulder urges your good arm around his neck, warm hands are careful when lifting you off your feet and carrying you over to the neatly made bed against the wall. Pillows are stacked behind your back to prop you up in a way that didn’t agitate your ribs and you give a sad smile when Cassian’s eyes linger on the bruises that were steadily healing up the length of your legs and he’s carefully covering them in blankets with a shaky breath.

Usually, he’d have sat next to you but now you’re unbearably aware of the distance he puts between you; hands clutched at his sides like he was physically restraining himself from reaching out to touch. “You eat yet?” A slow shake of your head and Cass lets out a little chuckle in understanding. “Not surprised, that shit’s gross. Az never was that good in the kitchen.”

Everything smells like him; male and musk, cedarwood and bourbon. It’s overwhelming in the best way and years of memories begin to flood your senses; countless late nights spent in here drinking and laughing about nothing. Lazy mornings with breakfast in bed and amused snorts over buttered toast and tea when the Illyrian boasted about his latest conquest or earned accomplishments but then would go sheepish when you’d genuinely told him you were proud of him—happy that he seemed happy.

Cassian shifts his weight from foot to foot, unable to meet your eye because you were gazing at him so lovingly; not an ounce of hate in sight and guilt bubbles in his belly like curdled milk. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll make you something.”

A few minutes pass of you examining the room before you notice there’s a bottle of whiskey on the bedside table and your brows furrow in worry. You’re grabbing it without second thought, shoving the bottle under the bed frame and out of sight before you hear the thudding footsteps coming down the hall and through the doorway. A goblet of a glass is clutched in one hand with a metal straw hanging over the rim; he rambles off some of the fruits he used while he walks over, gently settling it in your hands. Fingers graze and in the blink of an eye he’s already taken three steps worth of space between you but the berry smoothie is a significant upgrade from Azriel’s porridge mixture—little wins. This was sweet but not too sweet, thick enough to quell the rumbling in your stomach and thin enough to push through the gaps in the wires with ease. It’s half gone quicker than you care to admit but Cass seems pleased, yet the small smile he wears is quickly wiped off when you motion for him to sit next to you.

“I can’t.”

Brows scrunch together in silent question, head tilting to the side.

His face crumples, features lined with stress and it’s then you notice just how broken he appears—sure, maybe he didn’t have the bandages and wrappings but the damage was still there. “Look at you, peach,” Tears well at the pet name, your head lowering as if it could possibly hide the ugly bruising on your neck; it was the only spot that seemed to be taking forever to get better, a kaleidoscope of purples and deep blues. “Look what I’ve done to you,” Breath catches and you ache to comfort him when he doesn’t even bother to hold his wings off the ground. “I’m so sorry.”

Cassian only moves closer when you set the cup down and make way to stand; it’s then he sits near you, urging you back down and you see the way his throat bobs with the thick swallow when your hand gently rests over his own. Words aren’t needed to express how much you didn’t blame him; not anymore—not after the nights he’d spent hunched over your bedside spewing out confessions of his feelings. The unconditional love that never stopping pouring over when it came to you and the shameful jealousy that had followed. Secrets he’d kept in fear that you didn’t return the same affections; terrified to ruin the carefully crafted friendship that took centuries to perfect. To become an extension of the other and adding his feelings seemed messy—too complicated and then all of this. You and the sounds of your cries for help permanently branded at the forefront of his mind for all eternity. Waiting in anticipation for Madja’s updates on your health, how you were fairing and if there was any lasting brain damage; a burden he was fully prepared to bare for you. Willing to sit by your side with his fingers kneeding through your hair to soothe away the headache he knew was coming in from the scrunch of your nose even after being pumped full of pain relievers.

It seems fitting that you can’t voice what you know; the pieces that you’d held onto while stuck in your mind. Body too numb to even pry your eyes open but the hope of hearing it while conscious was a strong enough anchor to have you clawing to the surface—back to Cass and those lazy mornings and tea with entirely too much honey.

He’s a mess when you pull him in closer, brushing your fingers through his hair the same way he’d done for you. You can feel the feather light kisses he presses to the exposed injuries, silent tears dripping on your skin, hushed whispers of his apologies, all the ways he’d planned to do in order make it up to you. All the things he should’ve and would’ve and could’ve done and you have to pry his face from the crease of your neck to make him look you in the eye.

There are no words but the intensity of your stare says plenty and he’s right back where he started; wanting things he shouldn’t and falling back into selfish habits. Leaning into the warmth of your mouth slotting over his own and every bruise and broken bone doesn’t even matter when he’s finally kissing you—soft and tender but all too quick and he’s pulling away before you can memorize the feel of him. “You’re perfect,” Cassian whispers, forehead pressed against your own, hands keeping you close. “I don’t deserve you for a second.”

But you only kiss him again because in that moment nothing else mattered.

[physalian]

On Writing Characters with Hyper-Specific Triggers (and a PSA)

*Trigger warning for this whole post

Once upon a time, I had a roommate. Nothing looked wrong from the outside and this narcissist probably thought nothing was wrong on the inside, but there was. I knew moving in with them was a mistake, but financial circumstances demanded I shut up and try to make the most of it. Enter the longest thirteen months of aPTSD-inducing psychological stalemate I hope to never repeat again. Seven of which were on overdrive.

The why doesn’t matter. The how doesn’t matter. What matters is that this roommate was so toxic, there was no point in attempting to talk things out because any little thing could be a land mine for starting an argument and it didn’t matter what casualties got caught in the crossfire, so long as this person “won”. Casualties including our friendship. So if any little thing, anything at all, could be a land mind, what do you do if not try to completely avoid them? For seven months.

This person’s work schedule was incredibly erratic, but they were gone more hours than not, and when they were home, they were usually asleep. In those few overlapping hours where we were both awake, I could not leave my room for fear of said verbal land mines. If I wanted to cook, leave the apartment, get anything from the living room or my desk that I had to abandon, get more water from the fridge, I had to do it before they got home, or after they went to bed, and I could never predict when they’d be home.

Luckily (or unluckily), my room faced the parking lot, and this roommate drove a car that made a very specific sound. From the moment I heard that car from my room, I had about 20 seconds to shut down whatever I was doing in the apartment, retreat to my room, and lock the door. Overreacting? Potentially, I wasn’t in any physical danger, but this was seven months of near complete isolation from any other friends, and the fear of making it worse kept me silent.

So, 20 seconds from the moment I hear the telltale whine of that engine. If I couldn’t hear the car, our front door had a lock that chimes and I had about 7 seconds from the first chime to the door opening to get the fuck out of the way. I lost weight that I couldn’t afford to lose from being unable to cook past a certain time in the evening and staying locked in my room on their days off.

Seven months of only having a door chime and an engine to tell me when it was safe and when I had to run.

—

These chime locks are the new normal and one year removed from that apartment, every time I hear it and I’m already stressed, it’s a trigger.

Every time I’m on the highway and I see a dark grey sedan of that make, that is the most important car on the road until I make sure it’s not their car.

Every time I see a dark grey sedan parked in reverse, as they habitually did, that is the most important car in the parking lot until I make sure it’s not theirs.

Every time I have to drive near a certain location where they work, I am watching for that car.

I could pick it out from 200 others. I know the license plate, I know the license plate frame, I know what sticks to the windshield, I know what hangs from the rearview mirror. I would know that car rusted and crushed in an impound lot.

So. Today I drive home and I pass a rear-parked car one turn before my unit, and I think to myself, “that’s not X’s car, but I noticed it, I’m never not going to notice it.” It wasn’t the same make, model, or color, it was just a sedan with its nose sticking out and that was enough.

Then I turn the corner. And there it is. My ex-roommate’s car.

I shit you not it was like I had a warning from the Universe before it hit.

I don’t need to check the windshield, I know it’s theirs. I’ve seen it in my complex once before. The last time I did, I’d parked my own car and waited, got out, and hid between two others in the dark, waiting for this person to leave.

Today, in broad daylight, that car is empty. They happened to arrive while I was gone for 30 minutes. So I park, and I wait. I watch that car from my side mirror. I scan the sidewalk for them and I don’t see anything. I have frozens that can’t wait.

I’m thinking to myself, of all the parking spots in all the parking lots, of all the apartments in this godforsaken town, you parked right behind my spot.

Nothing happened, and even if we crossed paths, nothing probably would have happened (that’s how they worked, pretending nothing was ever wrong and that I was the crazy one). But I still waited, and when I decided to leave, I moved as fast as possible without drawing attention. One whole year removed from that person.

—

It doesn’t take physical abuse, or yelling and screaming and death threats. It doesn’t need to be a parent or a sibling, a relative, or a romantic partner. This person never touched me, never screamed (though they did yell on occasion), never actually threatened anything. They never called me names, were never direct with any of their insults, were never explicitly petty. I had no proof. Ever.

I just had example after example of every time they cut me down to feel smart, picked on me to feel better about themselves and project their own insecurities and jealousy, or used me as their emotional punching bag because of choices they made.

So a year after completely cutting them out, there’s that fucking car parked outside my apartment.

Media portrays “triggers” usually only in characters who are veterans. Noises that sound like gunshots, or thunder, fireworks, because that’s what we think of when we see PTSD—people who fought in wars.

It’s not like I sit around fixating on that car or that door chime (and actually with exposure to that chime every day with no consequences it’s gotten better), but that’s the point. They come out of nowhere when you least expect it. They don’t prepare you for their arrival, they just happen.

I didn’t have anything close to a panic attack, but nothing in the universe was more important in that moment than making sure I didn’t run into this person, until I calmed down.

Trigger attacks don’t have to be this big flashy thing, born of big flashy movements. It can be something as subdued as going quiet, staring at the thing, and your brain dumping everything else except all the potential outcomes of not escaping this situation immediately. It’s just a car. It’s not like an evil Big Dick truck with smokestacks and truck nuts and a MAGA flag on the back. It’s just a nerdy sedan that could belong to anyone.

—

So. PSA.

What you think might be an overreaction by someone you care about, they probably think is an overreaction, too. Did I want to have fate shit on my day and spend extra minutes under the hot sun when I have chores to do? No. But it happened.

What you think a trigger is supposed to look like or what the symptoms are supposed to be are not just what’s dramatic and flashy for the TV. Here I am writing a whole blog post about it instead of just moving on and I can't go back and check for typos because I don't want to have to reread it.

Do you want to die on a hill of “get over it” when someone you care about would love nothing more? Just. Be there for them.

And to writers, artists, anyone—it doesn’t have to be dramatic to be the most upsetting part of someone’s day. Including such simple things as a door chime, or the sound of an engine, really helps with visibility so people like me don’t think “I’m not allowed to feel this way, I didn’t actually suffer like a shell-shocked veteran”.

Most of us never will. That doesn’t make any of our hardships any less valid. Please be kind.