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#he should have better judgement yes
gjdraws · 10 months
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johnny eating tomatoes from a can is an upgrade tbh
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inkskinned · 1 year
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she says he won't let her get a dog, which is fine, because they're in an apartment, and that's the kind of thing people say about their partners. he won't let me get a dog. and you're at a dinner party and you tilt your head a little to the side just like that dog he won't let her get, because is this the thing that's going to upset you? you don't know every corner of their relationship, she could be joking, they could have had so many healthy conversations about the dog, right, and maybe she's not letting herself get the dog because of money and time and whatever. but, like, she did say let
and she wants to move away from his hometown and he wants to stay and then he tells you with a wink and a conspiratorial stage whisper don't worry i'll convince her and she laughs about it - so clearly this is something they laugh about. but you do just stand there and stare at him like what the fuck, man. you can't say what you want to say which is why do you get the final say on everything because they're both obviously aware of the other person's stance on this and have obviously had private conversations about it and what are you going to do about it except make a scene and then he'll be mad at you and call you one of those bitches behind your back and she'll cut you off, which is a loss that doesn't feel worth it just because he makes you a little skeeved out every 3rd comment
and they both agree he just isn't the type to get flowers which is fine because everyone shows love differently, and are you really gonna judge someone based on their sense of individual relationship responsibility? maybe he's constantly cleaning her car and writing her poems and making her furniture or something. maybe she doesn't even like flowers and this is perfect, actually. and no you couldn't date him, obviously, ew; but like, she tells you she's happy. you almost send her a tiktok that says don't be 25 and the cool girl that doesn't need anything, you'll hate not getting flowers at 30, but that's like, starting drama & you shouldn't start drama needlessly.
and you're a little older than her but not so much older you can pull the whole trust me on this one babe thing and besides that wouldn't have worked anyway (when does it ever) and besides you have trauma so you and your therapist both agree that you're always looking for a problem even when there isn't one. and you tell yourself that just because you see them for 15 minutes every month does not mean you can identify every single red flag based on a single shitty half-joking(?) comment
and besides, what are you going to do? she says i actually wanted another stand mixer but thankfully he stops me when i'm about to spend too much money and you're standing there like are you okay? is this normal? is this just something people say? and again - what are you going to do?
to your therapist you try to language it - it's not, like, any of my business. but sometimes, doesn't it feel like - you should do something. there's got to be something, right? you've tried dropping little hints but they sail right through and you've tried having a single serious conversation and she got upset because why does it matter to you, yes it's different but we're happy, it doesn't need to make sense to you and you're like. really unwilling to push a boundary about it anymore; because the truth is that you know logically it shouldn't matter to you, as long as both parties are happy.
and besides, you've been wrong before. it's just... like, every time you see them both, something else happens, some kind of shiver down your spine like do you even hear each other when you talk. it's their strange, bickering orbit. just the way he's on his phone through dinner or watching sports instead of helping in the kitchen or, fuck, another one of these little throwaway comments he makes about we'll see about that, babe. she laughs when he calls her passions stupid shit and meanwhile she gets him tickets to see the knicks and he tells you well at least she's smart about something and still! it's none of your business.
you say get the dog anyway and she laughs. like, this is is you being funny. and not you saying - no really. get the dog. get the dog and get out of here. pack up and start running.
#this btw is not including toxic friendships this is legit just something ive experienced MANY times now#writeblr#you ever have a friend in one of those relationships where ur like#u don't HATE their partner explicitly#but ur like. what the fuck y'all#like the weird part of being an adult is that you can't be like . CERTAIN their relationship is toxic#and also if u move too fast or push too hard u can hurt someone who is already in a scary situation so you just are like#frozen there. laughing awkwardly. saying ''haha..... yeah..... couldn't be me....''#and like u can't tell - is this banter or does he actually think like. he's better than her.#all you can do is be there for your friend and hope they wake up to it#or ... that it really IS good#and it's just odd to you#tbh btw id rather have my friends feel safe coming to me if they have a concern about my relationship#like yes it's not ur business but it also IS bc im making u hang out with them and also ur my friend#it's a weird thing to experience as an adult bc it is such a blurry line and when u spend time#around couples that aren't like ACTUALLY ur friends but instead ''extended friend circle'' ur like#.... i don't know y'all well enough and he just called you a cow. and ur okay with that . and i don't know how to respond.#so ur like :) okay. um. go to couple's counselling i think#but also you are NOT supposed to pass judgement so it's like.... this weird limbo of feeling like you SHOULD say something#but knowing you CANNOT#idk that there's a way to resolve it!!!!!!!! it's probably a different approach person to person#edited my tags bc tumblr's new system fucked em up#PS EDIT: btw i should have said:#the pronouns in this can work in any and every direction. every gender and every sexuality and every#type of relationship tbh. even non-romantic relationships where ur like ''what do u mean ur bff calls u stupid''
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Okay I can't post it until next week at the earliest and NEED to get this off my chest between now and my next longer reply because of stuff we were talking about:
Confirmed in one of my livestream clips there's been actual consideration towards Mine having survived. It's just a matter of his voice actor's availability and wanting to do it right if they end up doing it. We really could see Mine back in the main series.
And I recorded that clip based on something I misheard and didn't register that part at all until now. How Are We Doing Tonight
(Speaking of, get well soon!! I was sick myself the past couple of weeks, it's awful)
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me waiting for the absolute millisecond yokoyama drops the 100% Mine Survived The Fall statement
#snap chats#ON THE REAL THOUGH HELLO ?#hang on i need to put my thinking cap on after i threw it across the room excited#OK so i recall yokoyama(? im p sure it was yokoyama lik 99% sure it was him) talked about the concept of mine being alive#i think i still have the tweet bookmarked and while he didnt blatantly confirm it he did kind of allude to it#EITHER WAY ive gotten hope from the idea of mine being alive before#BUT IF THIS IS CREDENCE TO FURTHER CONFIRMATION i might just explode. i MIGHT just be even MORE insufferable#this is such a funny case though like i love how the status of mine's mortality is treated like an actual missing person's case sometimes#Area Man That Went Missing In 2009 Has Finally Been Found Alive#im holding off on the Mine's Alive memes until theres a Confirmation confirmation#i dont even care if he comes back in the main games (yes i do im lying) just the idea that's he's out there would satisfy me for now#if mine was just a local cryptid in the rgg franchise that would be JUST as funny oh my god actual zhao in judgement type beat#BUT THANK YOU FOR THE INFORMATION I CAN SEE WHY YOU'D WANNA SAY SOMETHING NOW#IF YOU GET THE CLIP OF THAT READY LIKE OBVI ID LOVE TO SEE IT ?? MY STARS#gonna think of this all night.. mine should come back so i can be even more annoying#and thank you- i hope you're feeling better from your sickness now !#i think im starting to feel better- i just have to stay inside more i guess#when i was at school there was pretty much no foliage so my allergies werent as bad#but back home theres nothing But foliage im gonna throw up ☠️
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saturnsuv · 2 years
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hate philosophy profs <3
#socrates dick is literally so far down your throat that you can’t take any criticism of him#like maybe YOU should get some critical thinking skills before you start commenting on my paper and proving that you’ve missed my entire#point#like no i didnt say he deserved to die simply bc he was being a dick#in fact if you read it at all my thesis said the exact opposite <3#i think socrates was a dick but that doesnt mean he should’ve been sentenced to death#HOWEVER. his absolute horribly arrogant speech after he was found guilty literally assured he was going to have some penalty#like that was my point. i didnt say he deserved punishment bc he sucked i said he created it for himself by pressing the buttons of the#people literally passing judgement on him#AND THEN. on the second part. i am going to beat my prof over the head about the second part of the test#YES aquinas said things like grandparents cease to exist NO that doesnt negate my point that all objects cannot stop existing#do you think your grandparents arent made of matter? do you think their matter just disappeared when they died? NO#the matter never stops existing so the fundamental units of objects can never Not exist. so there is never Nothing there is ALWAYS matter#somewhere in something#AND I DONT CARE if paul fucking edwards would disagree that theres an origin point to the universe i didnt say there was philosophically#i said there was scientifically which is better than philosophically#i am going to beat him over the head with this stupid fucking philosophy textbook like who cares about this shit. who fucking cares#i think i should be able to respond to professor’s criticism on my tests i think i should get to tell them why they’re wrong#yes i know none of this makes any sense to anyone but me#also philosophy enthusiasts dni#sam speaks
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“I don’t think I’m straight.”
Steve had reached that conclusion exactly ten seconds before saying it out loud. Laying upside down on the couch of his house with his best friend draping her legs on top of him.
“Is that what you were thinking about?” Robin asked, not lifting her eyes from her book.
“Yeah, it just makes sense.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Steve hummed thoughtfully. Did he want to talk about it? Was it important enough? Did it change anything?
“I feel the same,” he said. “I thought being gay would feel different.” For a second, Steve was sure Robin would tell him that was a stupid thing to think.
“Are you gay?” Robin asked instead, because she is Robin. She was able to ask something in a judgemental tone without being judgy.
“I'm not straight.” he repeated.
“Pretty sure there are more than two options.” She explained with a joking tone. It was lucky, she thought, that she found a zine hidden in a library when she visited her aunt in Indianapolis.
“How do I know what I am?”
“I don't know, actually,” she said, putting her book down. “I've never seen what the big deal with men is.” Robin explained, crossing her arms. “That's how I knew.”
“I definitely see the big deal with women,” Steve responded simply.
“What about men?”
“I think I always saw the big deal, I just pretended it did not exist.” Steve explained.
“Oh, sweet old denial.” She teased. “How do you feel about this?”
“I would feel better if I had better taste.” Steve deadpanned, causing Robin to laugh and kick him. He slid out of the sofa dramatically to the floor. “Kicking me while I'm most vulnerable, Buckley? I see your game.”
“I have been bidding my time to find your weak spot, Harrington.” Robin joked lightly, jabbing Steve’s legs with her foot. “You will fall, Steven!”
Steve retaliated by pulling her into the floor.
“Look who's falling now?”
“Whatever,” Robin pushed herself to sit upward, sitting on the floor with her back against the sofa. Steve mimicked her with his back against the coffee table. “Who is the guy?” she asked.
“I don't wanna tell you,” Steve whispered, more out of respect for their tradition than anything else. “You’ll make fun of me.”
“Of course I will,” she whispered back. Steve reached for her hand to intertwine their fingers and she held him without batting an eye. “That’s kinda my job as your soulmate.” Steve chuckled. “I have to make sure whoever it is doesn’t mess up our vibe, you know?” He didn’t.
“I’m sure he won’t."
"Are you really gonna make me guess?" Steve lit up at the suggestion. Before he could speak, Robin continued "I'm not gonna guess, just tell me."
"Are you afraid of getting it wrong and looking like a fool?" He teased.
"It's Eddie." She answered less than a second later.
Steve did not respond, shocked at her quick response.
"Who's the fool now, Steve?" The smile on her face was infectious to Steve, who poker her with his foot.
"How did you do that?"
"By having eyes."
"What do you think?" She closed her eyes and hummed as Steve waited for her response.
"I think he looks at you the same way you look at him."
"I should ask him out."
"I can be your wingman!" She exclaimed.
"Oh, my god, yes!"
"We have to make a plan," Robin yelled. She jumped to her feet, letting go of Steve's hand, and dashed up the stairs. "I'm going to get some paper."
Steve stayed behind, sitting more comfortably on the floor, and removing the magazines they had on the coffee table off.
They made a plan, that ended in more of a disaster which is a story for another time. There is only one thing that is important.
Eddie said yes.
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amidnightjen · 10 months
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“What the hell is this?!”
The words startle Steve awake more effectively than his alarm ever managed and he flails a bit, almost falling off the couch until he recognises Dustin looming over him, hands on hips looking extremely unimpressed.
(Later Steve will have time to be fondly amused that the gesture came from him.)
“Henderson?” he asks, blinking up at the kid with bleary eyes. “Jesus, what time is it?”
“6:30,” Dustin informs him.
“In the morning?” he croaks.
“Yes, in the morning!” Dustin snaps. “What the hell is this Steve?”
Steve is still mostly asleep, he knows he looks like a mess and he also knows that he and Dustin did not have any sort of plans that would give him reason to be waking Steve up at six-fucking-thirty in the morning. So he says, “Sleep, Henderson. It’s sleep.”
Dustin does not look amused by this. “Do you always fall asleep on the couch with Eddie?”
Steve blinks up at Dustin, confused. “What? Eddie?”
Dustin gestures behind Steve and Steve, against his better judgement, turns his head to find that Eddie is in fact on the couch behind him. Turning put him face-to-face with the other man and Steve just sort of blinks in befuddlement before wondering aloud, “Jesus Christ how is he still asleep?” Because he genuinely has no idea how anyone could be sleeping through Dustin’s sheer volume.
“That’s all you have to say?” Dustin demands.
“It’s early,” Steve complains.
“You’re sleeping with Eddie!”
“Well i was,” Steve groaned, “right up until you started shouting. Why are you even here?”
“Sleeping. With. Eddie,” Dustin repeats in case it was lost on Steve the first time.
“It’s six thirty in the morning!” Steve points out. Again. What else was he supposed to be doing at that time of day?
“Sleeping with Eddie!” Dustin repeats like a bad record, needle skipping back and forth.
Steve is too tired for this. “Make sense or go away and come back in two hours.”
“Steve,” and Dustin sounds very serious now, “are you having sex with Eddie?”
“…no?” He squints at Dustin, a little concerned about the kid’s knowledge of sex if he’s asking that when Steve is lying fully clothed and half asleep next to an equally fully clothed and still asleep Eddie.
Dustin does not find this funny. “Then what the hell is this? Why are you cuddling on the couch?”
Relieved, Steve says, “Oh, you didn’t mean that literally.” Then he shrugs. “We must have fallen asleep down here.”
“You fell asleep cuddling on the couch?” Dustin’s voice is very dry.
“…i guess?” Steve doesn’t actually know how the cuddling came about - would he call it cuddling? - but he gets the feeling he should be more worried about what Dustin is insinuating than he is. Mostly because, “Seriously, why the hell are you here so early?”
“Apparently, to catch you and Eddie snuggling on the couch,” Dustin snipes. “Is this going to be a thing?”
Steve looks long and hard at Eddie, doesn’t let himself sink too deeply into the thoughts or the fears, just looks at him and then he says to Dustin, “Yeah, probably.”
Dustin’s outrage is not faked this time and it is loud enough to finally wake Eddie.
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primofate · 3 months
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10 minute quick writes - Genshin Impact
In which I put on a 10 minute timer and write as much as I can. No cheating.
Mood: How he says "I love you", without saying the actual words.
Characters: Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Bennett, Chongyun, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Neuvillette, Razor, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Thoma, Wriothesley, gn!reader
Warnings: Some silliness in some parts cause I'm sleep deprived.
Albedo
"It'll be cold up there, it'd be best to wear something warmer. Would you be a bother...? No, your company is much appreciated,"
Alhaitham
"...Why are you still awake...? ...A test?" sighs and closes your books "A clear mind is important too. Let's go,"
Ayato
"I did indeed have an important meeting with the guild today...but what kind of partner would I be if I missed such an important occasion of yours?"
Baizhu
"Yes I do have a lot of patients to tend to...but you're to tell me immediately if there's something off about your health, understood?"
Bennett
"You wanna go to the ruins tomorrow too...? With me...?" 3 second pause "You're the best Y/N!"
Chongyun
"I'll work hard! N-No not on my exorcisms! I meant...t-to protect-- nevermind!"
Cyno
"Yes... It's my most prized TCG card... No, it's alright, you can have it,"
Dainsleif
"There's no need to wait up for me, all that'll do is bring you unnecessary worry. I will be fine, and I'll come back. Always."
Diluc
"Is there something I can help with? You seem to be deep in thought today. Perhaps you should stay and rest for tonight,"
Gorou
"Thanks for the help Y/N! I'll come at the same time tomorrow!"
Heizou
"There's my favourite person! How's your day been? Hopefully better now that you've seen me,"
Itto
"Whaddyou wanna do today? Hmmm? What do I wanna do? Nah s'okay, you can pick today!"
Neuvillette
"In matters of work or miscellaneous events, I trust your judgement as I trust mine,"
Razor
A hug, I guess.
Scaramouche
"Seriously are you stupid? I told you not to go running off by yourself! In all circumstances. Wait.For.Me!"
Tartaglia
Melts in your arms after a long day. Seems to talk to an invisible force.
"...and here. Right here. Is where I call home. Don't take this away from me,"
Thoma
"What would you like to eat today? Any requests? I'll cook tonight,"
Wriothesley
"We haven't gone out together in a while, have we? I'll take an off tomorrow. Let's go to that cafe you've wanted to go to, hm?"
End!
I’ve published The Ruthless Prince (Reader x Scaramouche) on paperback. Click here.
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satorusluver · 6 months
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Prince!Gojo x maid!reader
Minors DNI
I know I mentioned Prince Gojo x arranged fiancé reader but now I am also thinking about Prince Gojo x maid reader.
Tags/warnings: unprotected sex, creampie
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Prince Satoru Gojo, who first saw you years ago when you joined his mother's household when you were both teenagers and had an instant attraction to you. You're not even a lady-in-waiting who serves the queen, they're at least noblewomen. You're a servant to a lady-in-waiting, far far below the Crown Prince in ranking, but do you think that's gonna stop Satoru? Hell no. Not when you're the most beautiful woman he's ever laid eyes on.
It took him years to actually speak more than a few sentences to you though, not because you're so below him, but because you're so ethereal, so beautiful and pure that he didn''t want to corrupt you with the sinful thoughts he has of you. But once the spark between the two of you became apparent, nothing could stop it from blazing, his better judgement and the social hierarchy be damned.
You think he's thinking about any of that when he's balls deep in your soft, velvety cunt? When he's feeling your legs wrapped around his waist and your hot breath panting in his ear, and hearing you whimper his name, his real name, and not "my prince" or "your highness" or "Crown Prince Satoru"? Because here, in this room away from prying eyes, he's just Satoru -your Satoru.
And no, you didn't expect friendly conversations and harmless flirtations and maybe a few stolen kisses to so quickly evolve into Satoru bunching up the skirt of your dress around your hips and rutting into you against the wall of an empty room during the few short minutes before he has high tea and you have to return to washing the windows. His pace is hard and fast due to the lack of time, and it makes your eyes water and your toes curl each time his thick cockhead rams against your sweet spot and causes you to see stars and dig your teeth into your lower lip to keep from crying out loud enough for someone outside the room to hear.
And yes, you know it's a terrible idea. That you should have saved your maidenhood for your future husband. That you're risking everything, your honor and your future, when you feel those ropes of royal seed spurting against your cervix and into your womb and very possibly putting a bastard in your belly.
But how could you have possibly said no to the handsome Crown Prince and those captivating blue eyes that look at you like you're something wonderful, something precious, something more than a servant who scrubs floors and empties chamber pots? When he's kissing the side of your face so sweetly and gasping out a declaration of love as he's fucking that royal seed back into you?
You can't bring yourself to regret it, even when you're soon back to washing down the windows outside of the room where Satoru is now dining with his family, sipping tea from cups expensive enough to keep you fed for an entire year. Not even when you feel that familiar trickle of his seed spilling out of you and pooling in your undergarments, and see those same blue eyes now momentarily flicker over to you with an utterly blank expression that betrays no recognition whatsoever.
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janaispunk · 24 days
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come morning light
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chapter 2 • series masterlist
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.
word count: ~2.5k
tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, vague description of an injury
a/n: i'm finally finished with chapter 2, and once again nervous af about it haha. there's not terribly much happening in this one, but i promise we'll get there, it just needs the buildup :)
thank you @catchallfangirl for beta reading <3
follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)
dividers as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍
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You don’t feel like you’ve slept at all, but after hours of tossing and turning in the darkness of your bedroom, you think it’s probably time to get up. 
You’re halfway convinced that last night’s events were a product of your imagination, that your mind has felt so lonely that it conjured up the whole scenario. But when you step out of your bedroom and find the door of your parents’ bedroom only halfway closed, the way you have never left it before saying good night to Ellie earlier, you have to come to terms with the fact that this might actually be your reality. 
Ellie seems to be sound asleep, a lump under the covers, softly breathing, but when you head to the living area and switch on one of the smaller lamps, you’re met with the piercing glare of Joel. He’s still lying on the couch, much like you left him, still pale, still dark shadows under his eyes, but he’s much more awake now, his gaze following your every move. 
“Hey,” you say softly, sinking down on the same armchair that you sat in when you watched him last night while Ellie took a shower. You suppress a shudder at the way he regards you, his eyes flicking up and down your body, taking in your size, you presume, searching for weapons. Your gun is tucked into the waistband at the back of your pants, which you’re sure he’s already aware of. You don’t like the way he makes you feel, like somehow you’re intruding on him. You should have the upper hand, this is your home and he’s injured, you helped him for crying out loud, and here you are, nervously watching his every move. You did the right thing. It’s gonna be fine. 
“Where’s Ellie?” he asks, ignoring your greeting, his voice gruff. 
“Sleeping,” you reply, nodding your head to the bedroom door. “She’s okay, I promise.” 
Some of the tension seems to release from his body and he slumps back down a little, but the distrust in his expression when he looks at you doesn’t waver. Then again, you’re probably not much different. 
“Look,” you sigh, “I’m not playing some kind of game here. You came into my house, I saw that you needed help, so I helped.” You try to infuse your voice with as much confidence as you can. “Don’t make me regret that, okay?” 
He shrugs, a noncommittal grunt the only verbal answer. It could potentially be interpreted as a thanks, you guess. In a less tense situation, you’d probably grow annoyed by now. Shrugging yourself, you get to your feet and head to the kitchen. Anything to escape the way he’s watching your every movement.
“Hey, do you want coffee?” You don’t really want to offer him any, but you’d feel weird drinking it yourself without asking. 
He pipes up at the question, head turning in your direction, his face the most open that you’ve seen it yet. “You have coffee?” 
“Yeah.” That’s why I’m fucking asking. 
“I– yes.” A breath, a second of him not meeting your eyes. “Thanks.” 
You smile, small, fleetingly, busying yourself with the ground beans and the boiling water, reveling in the smell that slowly spreads throughout the room. It reminds you of happier times, when the world was still normal. 
He has pushed himself into a sitting position, breathing heavily, when you walk over to hand him the steaming cup, still careful to keep your distance. 
After you sit back down, the both of you stay silent for a few minutes. You enjoy the bitter taste on your tongue, the way you slowly feel your energy rising. 
“Does it hurt much?” you ask eventually, gesturing towards his stomach. 
Another grunt, the hint of a head shake. 
“So it does.” He opens his mouth, the protest most likely already on his tongue, and you raise an eyebrow. “I have painkillers, are you sure that you–”
“No.” It comes fast, his voice raised, no room for arguments.
You instinctively flinch back at the unexpected louder sound, the cup shaking in your grip. You set it down on the table in front of you. Have your hands free, just in case.
There’s a hint of regret in his eyes, his free hand slightly raised, palm open. He’s trying to calm you down, you realize. 
“Okay,” you breathe, working hard to keep your voice steady, “no painkillers, got it.” 
“Sorry,” he mutters, his face half hidden, words almost lost behind the cup. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” 
“It’s alright,” you tell him as much as yourself. 
You’ve gotten jumpy, not used to loud sounds anymore, raised voices, not used to humans in general, you suppose. You hadn’t fully realized it until now, until there’s other humans around you again.
“Thank you,” he continues unexpectedly, “not just for the coffee, but– you know.” He’s struggling, the words not coming easily, but you think that he’s being earnest. “Patching me up.”
“Of course.” You nod hastily, your heart still beating a little too fast. 
Another moment passes in silence, both of you slowly sipping the coffee. He’s looking around, taking in his surroundings, eyes lingering on the closed wooden doors and the stairs leading up. You try not to get nervous about it. It’s normal that he would want to know more about where he is, after all. 
“This is the basement, right? Is it safe?” 
“Yeah,” you breathe. “No way to get in from outside.” As long as you stay inside, you’re safe.
He hums, appreciatively, you think.
“How long have you been living here?” 
“Always. It’s my parents’ house. I mean–” you laugh, but it comes out hollow, “we lived upstairs, obviously. But my dad was… kinda crazy. Or– not that crazy, I guess, all things considered.” Your lips curl into a wry smile. 
Your mind flashes back to long lectures about survival techniques, learning how to shoot, your father going on and on about first aid, hunting, all the things that you couldn’t have cared less about as a teenage girl, but were ingrained in your brain nonetheless. You’re grateful, now, but it’s laced with guilt about how often you snapped at your father, how often you told him he was paranoid, seeing dangers that weren’t there, that he was wasting your time. You couldn’t have known, the rational part of you argues. But you can never take it back now, the guilt whispers. 
When you look up, Joel’s eyes are on you, eyebrows raised in question. You shake your head, trying to clear it. Stay in the present.
“Sorry, what did you–?” 
Worry is painting his expression. “Are you okay?” 
Don’t show weakness. “Yeah, of course. Just spaced out for a second.” 
You force a smile onto your face and stand up rather abruptly, gathering both cups and putting them into the sink. Joel hasn’t moved, but you feel his eyes on you as you move. 
“Do you, um, do you want to shower, maybe? Or just wash up, I don’t know, how–” You gesture towards the dried bloodstain on his flannel, forcefully keeping your tone light. “I have clean clothes, too, if you want.” 
A shiver runs through you at the thought of going through your dad’s things, of someone else wearing them. He doesn’t need them anymore. He’s not coming back. 
You know that you’ve gone silent for too long again even before you see Joel’s expression. He doesn’t ask this time, but there’s something in his eyes that you can’t place, something that almost looks like understanding. 
“Yeah, I guess cleaning up a bit would be nice. I– thank you. Again” 
His voice is gruff and he avoids your eyes. You think that he doesn’t like it, having to thank you. Owing you. 
Giving him a nod, you head to the bedroom, hoping not to disturb Ellie, but she’s awake already, her eyes glinting in the light that’s falling into the dark room from the living area. You clench your jaw, heading for one of the drawers, trying hard not to think about what you’re doing. It’s not like he ever wore this stuff, it was just sitting down here. It’s fine, you’re fine. 
“Don’t worry, it’s not about you,” Ellie says quietly from beside you, breaking through your racing thoughts. 
You turn towards her, confusion on your face. “What is?”
“Joel,” she shrugs, still keeping her voice low. “He’s like that with everyone. He’s a bit of an asshole, really.” She sounds fond, saying it, like it’s an endearing character trait. 
A surprised laugh escapes you. “I– okay, thanks, I guess.” 
She waves it away, swinging her feet out of the bed. “No, thank you for not murdering me in my sleep.” 
“Yeah, likewise.” You shake your head, still laughing to yourself. It’s so easy to like the girl, to feel like you already know her. 
You hand Joel a pile of clothes, purposefully avoiding to look at them too closely, explain where the towels are and he grumbles his approval before the bathroom door closes behind him. 
You release a breath and close your eyes for a second. You are undeniably warming up to Ellie, finding it almost impossible not to, but her companion is a different story. 
“Hey, do you drink coffee?” you ask in the direction of the bedroom. 
“Ew, no!” comes her reply as she steps out of the door, collecting the wild mess of hair on the top of her head and securing it in a ponytail.
Her offense at the mere suggestion makes you chuckle under your breath as you busy yourself with preparing breakfast in the form of porridge instead. She’s leaning against the doorframe, watching you, her eyes wide as she takes in the cupboards full of supplies. 
You’re glad that you don’t need anything from the storeroom, keeping that door in the corner firmly closed. You want to trust her, want to trust them, but a feeling of unease still lingers at the thought of letting them know just how much you have.
Instead, you voice another question, a thought that fills you with unease as well. 
“Hey,” you begin, keeping your eyes trained on the stove, “I’m sorry, but you and Joel, there– there isn’t anything weird going on, is there?” 
“Like what?” She sounds slightly defensive, but when you steal a glance at her, she’s eyeing you with curiosity. 
“I don’t know, like…” You shrug, stirring the mixture of water and oats, “you want to be here, he’s not forcing you to come with him or anything, right?” 
“No, don’t worry about that,” comes her reply, almost amused. It was a bit of a stupid question, when you think about it, considering how worried she was about him last night, how protective. 
“Okay,” you smile at her. You’re curious nonetheless, how they ended up together and where they’re headed, but it’s probably not really your place to ask. 
You divide the porridge into three bowls and hand her one, while you carry yours and one for Joel back to the living area and set them down on the wooden table. 
Ellie starts shoveling the food down immediately and you’re left wondering once more what happened to them and when they last ate something. 
“So…” Ellie begins, her mouth still half full, “you’re just down here with all this food? Because your dad stored it here, before… things went to shit?” 
You can’t blame her for her curiosity, you’re aware that you’ve probably found yourself in a better living situation than most people. Your thoughts go to the storeroom again, basically stuffed with enough supplies to last you multiple lifetimes, especially now that it’s just… No.
You hum in affirmation, not trusting your voice and you’re thankful that she’s too distracted by her breakfast to notice anything weird about your reaction. 
“So you don’t go out hunting or anything?” comes her next question. You freeze. 
You did go hunting, back when you cared about variance in the meals you prepared, about using fresh ingredients when you could. Until there was no need for that any more. 
You realize that Ellie is saying your name, not for the first time, judging from the look on her face. 
“Sorry,” you mumble, your hands tightening around the bowl. “No, I- I don’t go hunting.”
If she finds the situation weird, she shrugs it off impressively fast. 
She nods to herself, eating quietly for a minute, before she speaks up again. “So what do you… do? Down here all day?” 
“Uh…” What is it that you do all day? Time has been blurring together, days without anything happening repeating on a constant loop. You realize that you don’t remember, can’t talk of any activities that are part of your day. How long has it been like this?
You’re relieved from having to answer by Joel emerging from the bathroom, his face pale and his breaths going heavy. He has put on the sweatpants you gave him, but his torso is bare, the skin around the injury still an angry red. 
He sinks back down into the cushions with a heavy sigh and you quickly get to work, cleaning the wound once more and giving him more antibiotics before you redo the bandages and hope for the best. Your hands don’t shake as badly as they did last night. 
Ellie gets him some water and pushes his bowl of porridge into his hands, urging him to eat, before she turns to you. She’s trying to be strong, to hide her worry, but the pleading look in her eyes when she asks you if he’s gonna be okay tells a different story. 
“Of course,” you say, giving her what you hope to be a reassuring smile. 
Joel does look better after he’s eaten something, but his eyelids are drooping and after a few more minutes, his eyes close and his breath evens out. You do the dishes and check the cameras, calming down a bit more when you’re sure that everything seems to be quiet upstairs. 
When you return to the living area, Ellie is rummaging through her pack, muttering to herself, until she pulls a book out of, proudly turning the cover for you to read it. No pun intended - Volume Too.
She starts reading them to you while you settle back down with a second cup of coffee and you share her laughs, enjoying the way it makes her look lighter, allows her to be a kid who can laugh at stupid jokes. You ignore the sting it causes in your chest because you once knew someone who would have loved this book just as much as Ellie does.
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thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!
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benedictscanvas · 2 months
Text
silly, lovely fool - remus lupin x reader
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pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader
word count: 0.5k she’s just a baby
warnings: i went HAM on the pet names, apologies if that’s not your thing but i think they’re sweet :(
a/n: i have nothing interesting to say, except i am in such a little remus cocoon rn. please enjoy this little blurb and let me know your ideas for any others <3
- - -
“You’re so silly,” you murmur, so quietly you wonder if he hears you. He gives no indication. His cheek is pushed firmly into your hand, and he’s just staring at you through his lashes, eyes flirting across your face and back again. Looking up at you between his legs as he sits on the lid of the toilet, and he still looks at you like that.
“Remus,” you admonish lightly, “I said, you’re so silly.”
“I know,” he hums, “But I’m busy.”
“Doing what?”
“Looking at you. Always looking at you.”
“Remus,” you say again, more warning in it this time. He sighs, and you feel the warmth of it across your wrist. You have to fight a shiver.
“You’re ruining it. Shush.”
It’s against your better judgement to give in to him, but you stop talking anyway. It’s nice to look at him too, even though he laughs when you tell him so. It’s not as nice as it usually is right now - there’s still flecks of dried blood under his nose from the nosebleed that had only just cleared up, and a nasty bruise forming on the bridge. You wince and he sighs again.
“I’d rather you speak than look at me like that,” he says, finding your hip with his free hand.
“You shushed me,” you argue and he pinches your hip, “I just- you’re an idiot. A silly man.”
“You said that already, my darling girl.”
You scrunch up your nose at the endearment. He always thinks he can talk his way out of anything with you. It’s because he always can.
“I still think you could have pulled me out of the way without getting hit yourself.”
“I had to think on my feet,” he argues, but his tone is passive and his thumb is rubbing circles around your hipbone, “My favourite face was in danger.”
You shake your head at him.
“So pull me towards you, dork. Don’t jump into the path of a bludger.”
“A small sacrifice,” he murmurs, reaching up to trace a featherlight line down the slope of your nose, over your cupid’s bow, lips, then tapping your chin twice.
“A silly sacrifice,” you push, but your heart isn’t in it anymore either. He’s so pretty, nosebleed or no, and he thinks you’re pretty enough to take a bludger to the face for you. Lovely man.
“Okay, I’m silly,” he says lazily, “Very very silly for you. Mad for you, stupid for you. A total fool.”
“Remus,” you mumble to stop him, pulling his face upwards towards yours to plant a chaste kiss to his lips. You don’t want him to hurt any more than he is already. You’re ever so fond of him.
“Sweetheart,” he says, millimetres from you, “I’m feeling awful better now. Think I could kiss you properly?”
“I think you should count your lucky stars that I’m kissing you at all, handsome.”
And with that you step out of his reach, because otherwise he’ll most certainly convince you. He reaches for you but comes up short as you move to throw away the bloody tissues. His arm hangs limp in the air between you.
“I do feel lucky,” he affirms, “Look at that face. All perfect and everything. I did that.”
“Yes you did. Thank you, by the way. My hero.”
You decide to let him have this one. He’s too genuine to tease much more.
“Anytime. You just shout, gorgeous.”
You bark out a laugh as you return to him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, then another.
“You’re such a flirt,” you speak into his hair, pulling back to look at him and unable to keep yourself from smiling.
He just grins.
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Note
Am I the asshole for not letting my husband have a say for the guest list of our baby shower?
I (21 f) and my husband (25 m) moved very quickly in our relationship, much to the judgement of my sister. We moved in with each other after a month of dating and she basically told me it was a stupid idea. We also got eloped with no family or friends there four months after that. When I texted my sister we got married (yes, I texted everyone instead of called) she asked if it was a joke and when I said yes then sent a picture of marriage license as proof, she didn’t respond for days. She called me later which I sent to voicemail, which was basically her crying saying she always imagined she’d be at my wedding and was hurt. I was upset because no one was invited or even told about the engagement; that was the point of eloping. The rest of my family was pretty happy for us though and I focused on that.
We didn’t talk for months because I wanted an apology, or at least a congratulations on getting married. She texted me a few times about nothing important (she sent a few memes). An apology never happened, but I started to text her again because I found out I was pregnant and wanted her to know about it. I called her about it eventually and she was supportive.
Before the Not Talking stage happened, her and my husband didn’t get along. She has made multiple passive aggressive comments about our relationship in the past. There was one time she visited us that made my husband upset because she showed up with little notice and also insisted on visiting again when our cat gave birth to her litter of kittens. She talked about helping and I didn’t really think anything of it. My husband later said he was upset she acted like she knew our cat better than us based off a couple of other comments she made and didn’t like how she invited herself over. I don’t think she meant anything negative about it, but it was annoying she insisted on one specific cat thing we told her we had under control and didn’t stop pestering until my mom called the vet to ask for advise and the vet agreed with my husband and I about how we handled the cat situation. I’m not sure if I explained that well but I honestly don’t know how to describe it without going into too much detail. This is just background info.
My husband and I wanted to do a gender reveal for the baby. We agreed on the theme and had a general date in mind. I invited my immediate family, best friend, and his immediate family that he talked to (which only consisted of three people). He said he didn’t want my sister at the gender reveal and this caused a huge fight. He said if she was there then he wouldn’t show up and I could tell him the babies gender on the phone. I cancelled the gender reveal because I didn’t want to uninvite my sister when she hasn’t made any bad comments in months and also wasn’t about to have my husband not be there. In my mind, there’s zero point in having one if both parents aren’t there. We found out gender by having our doctor write it down on a paper and we opened it later by ourselves. We told everyone over the phone what we are having.
Now, I am pretty far along in my pregnancy and my family wanted to set up a baby shower for me. I let them and we set up a date for it. My husband and I talked about the baby shower multiple times and looked forward to it. I Facebook invited the same people I invited to the gender reveal to the baby shower and he wasn’t happy when he saw my sister was again on that list. Him and my sister has only seen each other one time during these months, which was at a funeral. My sister initiated a handshake which he accepted and asked how he was. He answered fine and that was the end of it.
The baby shower argument was the same for gender reveal. He didn’t want her there and he didn’t want to come if she was there. He said I shouldn’t want someone who has done nothing but disrespect both of us in the past year to be at this event and should get a say in who comes and who doesn’t. There’s no excuse for the things my sister has done and said but it felt wrong to exclude her. If she wasn’t going to be invited to the baby shower, then what was his opinion on our son’s birthdays and other events? We couldn’t do this forever. She hasn’t been rude in months but we never got an apology. I’m also a little bitter about it but I’m trying to not be harsh. At this point, I didn’t say much when my husband said she couldn’t be there. This is because we just got done with a different argument about something completely different and he said he was done about certain things. I said ‘like what?’ and he told me he didn’t want my sister at the baby shower.
He said he wouldn’t have invited anyone that has disrespected me and I shouldn’t either. It sounds fair but it also sounds very black and white. I get along with the family he talks to outside of family events. I don’t get along with a couple of extended family members but he doesn’t get a say in who was invited to those events and never talks to them outside of those family events even before we were together. I didn’t really say anything for my argument because I knew he wouldn’t agree with it anyway. This sounds calm but he was very angry and I was crying pretty hard. He asked over and over again if she was coming to the baby shower and I refused to respond. If I say she’s not coming then I’ll have to follow my word and uninvite her, probably causing arguments within my family. If I say she is then he won’t come. (I’m not sure if this is relevant but my husband and I are both autistic and have been known to shut down and stim when we’re upset). He said he’s tired of being disrespected when I refused to answer for 30+ minutes and wanted a divorce. He crumbled up our marriage license and took my wedding ring off my finger.
He didn’t say anything about the baby shower and started asking questions about the divorce. ‘How much do you want in child support? When do you want to do visitation? Etc.’ I refused to answer for a while but he kept asking and I mostly gave vague answers like ‘whatever you want’ all while still crying. I didn’t say much except to say he was staying and we weren’t getting a divorce.
I don’t remember what happened next and what I said, but he eventually said that I had one more chance to choose him because he’s always chosen me. This is true because he has put me first. He works a lot while I’m not working this pregnancy and always makes sure I eat and everything. I’m not sure what’s going on with baby shower. I think he said that she can come if I put up boundaries about being nice otherwise she can’t come. I think this will start an unnecessary fight because she hasn’t done anything in many months so it seems insulting. I didn’t say anything though. We fell asleep and cuddled and he apologized the next morning before he left for work. He said he was more mad that I refused to talk. I, personally, was more upset about the marriage license he crumpled up. I still didn’t say anything but ok. He still hates my sister and expects me to tell her to be respectful.
I don’t know what to think really. I sound like a jerk for not letting him have a say for baby shower. It is his kid too. I also don’t want to divide my family by not inviting my sister, but he’s also my family. I know he acted like a jerk for the argument but that doesn’t necessarily means he’s wrong about the guest list and having a say. So would I be TA?
What are these acronyms?
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buckets-and-trees · 4 months
Note
Mob Bucky walking into the kitchen and picking you up to carry you out to the bedroom when you spent whole day cooking. You argue that you still need to bake two pies and make a salad, or something, but Bucky doesn't care.
"You spent the past two days on your feet. Now you're gonna spend the next twenty four hours on your back. Maybe on hands and knees, if I feel like it."
Hahahaha! Because we WOULD. But it's our chef heart!
Fandom: MCU Collection: Devour Title: CUSTARD Characters/Pairings: Mob Boss!Bucky x female!Chef!Reader Word Count: 687
Content Warnings: referenced smut (vaginal penetration/fucking, oral: female receiving), mob boss Bucky
Logistical Notes: Takes place after the series (shh, I know I'm still working on the final chapter). Prompt from the ask in bold italics, and notching a Naughty prompt from @the-slumberparty's Naughty or Nice challenge in plain bold.
↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
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James was calling your name, but you didn’t hear him until he was in the kitchen with you.
“What the hell are you doing?”
You didn’t register the dangerous chill in his tone either, too busy skimming your fingers back over the recipe you were studying, frowning back at the mixture in the metal bowl whipping up in front of you.
“Mmm,” you hummed, completely focused on your work, “will you taste this?” You reached for one of the small spoons in a jar on the counter, dipped it into the bowl, and held it out for your mob boss.
He crossed the kitchen and was at your side in an instant. You only looked his way briefly enough to thrust the spoon into his mouth just as he opened it to speak again. You reached for another spoon to taste the custard’s current status for yourself.
“It definitely needs the nutmeg,” you murmured, wondering why the recipe you were referencing didn’t have any listed.
“You definitely need to be out of this kitchen!” James ordered.
You whipped your head back to glare at him. “I promised I would bring pie to the brunch, James.”
“And you’ve already made one.”
“But I didn’t make that pie for the brunch! It’s the backup pecan pie, and everyone deserves to have pie that was intended for the brunch. Pecan pie is not a proper brunch pie,” you argued. “I really should make a fruit pie to go along with this buttermilk pie, too,” you added for yourself, tone dropping back to your concentrated cooking tone.
“No! I forbid it!”
“You forbid it?”
“Yes, I forbid it! Against my better judgement, I tolerated you cooking the holiday meal with our families, but you spent the past two days on your feet when you’re supposed to be off, chef.”
He pulled the spoon out of your right hand and the spatula out of your left, flung them onto the counter, and flung you over his shoulder.
“James Buchanan Barnes!”
He didn’t speak as he walked you out of the kitchen and down the hallway. You squirmed a bit – knowing with all his strength there was no way he would let you fall, but also wanting to protest over being dragged away from your task.
He tossed you unceremoniously onto the bed and was on you immediately.
His large frame trapped you beneath him, though you tried to squirm away. He took each of your hands and pinned them in one of his above your head, while his other hand grabbed your jaw and angled your face for him to perfectly capture your lips in a kiss. He forced his tongue against yours, and immediately you could taste the sweetness of the custard still lingering in his mouth. He kissed you until you stopped struggling, softening beneath him. He released your hands, and you wound one around his neck and the other through his hair. His free hand didn’t stay free for even a second before it was palming your breast through your shirt, and you moaned.
Finally, he broke of the kiss, but only moving his head back a fraction of an inch.
“Damn you,” you breathed against his lips, but you knew from the look in his eyes that he knew he’d demanded and earned your utter and complete surrender.
“You’re going to spend the next twenty-four hours on your back,” he said. He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then drew the heat along your jaw and down your neck. The desire in your core was fully ablaze, and you could feel how wet you were already growing between your thighs.
He nipped at your collarbone, and you gasped.
“Maybe on hands and knees if I feel like it,” he added as he ripped the front of your shirt open.
The audacity of this man! you thought while you could still think.
An audacity that you gladly put up with until well after midnight as he had you cumming more than once on his cock, then woke up to first thing with his head between your thighs.
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↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
I PROMISE ONE DAY I WILL FINISH THE FINAL CHAPTER, I JUST CAN'T HELP IT THAT PEOPLE KEEP SENDING FANTASTICALLY INSPIRATIONAL ASKS THAT TURN INTO THESE LITTLE ADDITIONAL SCENES FOR THEIR FUTURE!
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tripleyeeet · 8 months
Text
I'M STARVING, DARLING (8)
SUMMARY: For the first time in a long time, you and Astarion find yourself experiencing a sense of normalcy through the chaos.
PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader
WORD COUNT: 3,346
WARNINGS: Sexual tension (there always is with these two, whoops), a bit of bloodsucking, mentions of past abuse, angst if you squint.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry this took so long! I'm back from vacay at work and died for four days straight but now we're back! Sort of!
Updates from now on might not be as frequent but I'm going to try and post weekly; maybe on Saturdays?
CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER
-
 “Don’t you dare.”
At this point, you’ve been lying there for what feels like hours, locked inside his arms —unable to bring yourself to move thanks to the comfort you feel surrounding your frame. A comfort you haven’t felt in a long time as you listen to the raspy way his voice tickles your neck, prompting you to sigh and give in, knowing that resistance is futile.
“They’re going to kill us, you know.” 
Shifting awkwardly to face him, you try not to smile when he peaks one eye open, quickly closing it when he catches your own. “I’d like to see them try considering I’m already dead.”
“Yes, well I’m not.”
He huffs, clutching you further into his chest. “And that’s my problem?”
Rolling your eyes, you playfully smack his face before wriggling from his grasp, moving to sit upright with a groan. As you do, you quickly remember the events of last night and slowly roll your bare shoulders, feeling them click in and out of place before you raise your arms to the sky with a yawn. 
Despite your better judgement, you stayed up far too late, enjoying the ever-growing intimacy the night had to offer. All of the lingering touches and longing gazes mixed between small bouts of passion and a rather lengthy dip in the tub were nothing short of worth it. In fact, if you were honest, it was better than anything you could’ve imagined. A proper break from the chaos you’d been unwillingly thrust into as of late.
You knew because of that it’d be hard to wake up. To let your mind move from fantasy to reality as the sun hit your face and the reminder of the oncoming doom filtered through your tired mind.
What you weren’t prepared for however was Astarion’s lack of restraint as his curious fingers begin to slip across your back. Carefully drawing up and down your spine, his fingers move in delicate motions, sending an onslaught of shivers down your spine that have him chuckling under his breath, shuffling closer toward your frame. 
“If you told me last night I’d be enjoying such a delicious view…”
When you turn to give him a narrow-eyed look he trails off, looking at you with feigned innocence as he kisses your shoulder blade, allowing his lips to linger as you stare him down. 
“You’re lucky you're cute.” 
“And you’re lucky my blade’s still attached to my clothes. Otherwise it’d be at your throat threatening you back to bed.” 
“Kinky.” 
Immediately he snorts, pressing his forehead against your back. “For fuck sakes— come back to bed, please. I won’t ask you again.” 
Biting your lip, you look around the room for a moment, picking apart the disaster of discarded clothes and muddied floors mixed between half-opened packs of supplies. Somehow despite the disarray of it all you still manage to smile as you crane your neck back, knowing that you should get up but ultimately give in to temptation, shuffling around Astarion’s frame to rest your head back on your pillow. 
“Fine. You win.”
“Win?” He slips effortlessly into your side, leaning over to place a chaste kiss to your cheek before tracing the edge of your jaw with his finger. “And what pray tell is my prize?” 
“My company.”
He scrunches up his face in false disgust, softly taking hold of your chin. “I was hoping for something a bit more exciting.”
It’s apparent then that he’s looking for a repeat of the hours prior. More moments of shared ecstasy before the inevitable shift in focus occurs and you’re most likely left wanting for another few weeks.
It’s tempting for sure. Especially when he slips a leg between your own, gently pushing his thigh against that spot that has you swallowing hard as you close your eyes. 
“You and I both know—“
He cuts you off with a long kiss. One that’s devoid of anything other than the hunger of a starved man, reaching for that initial bite. It’s all tooth and tongue —a mess of movements that have him shifting upright to straddle your leg, breathing hard against your open mouth as he slots his teeth against your lower lip, making you groan.
“Sorry darling, what were you saying?” His grin is wicked when he pulls away, using the moment of dazed confusion to stroke your cheek as you open your mouth to speak. When nothing comes out he merely chuckles and places a much softer kiss in the same spot, resting against you for a second or two before pulling away. 
“You’re awful.”
“And you’re easy,” he muses, moving his thigh against you. “Desperate even.”
Immediately, there’s a part of you that wants to argue that the feeling of your legs suddenly tightening around his own as your breath begins to falter isn’t the result of your desperation, but his. That you’re merely just a victim to his charms like always. However, the bigger part of you knows he’ll probably make you feel otherwise. More than likely, he’ll retort with something far too clever and make you second-guess your words.
So instead, you merely give in to his claims, humming quietly as he explores your frame, quickly laying waste to your neck with an open-mouthed kiss that makes you crave that feeling again. The cold nothingness brought on by his teeth latching against you.
Despite its somewhat violent cause, you still long to remember the feeling. The incomparable bliss of that icy jolt before total numbness occurs, leaving you lightheaded and empty. Suddenly, it takes over your mind, flashing amongst the current movements of his mouth trailing down your torso.
All of it’s enough to say his name. Quietly through the haze of desire, you feel him pause and look up, raising a brow at your heavy chest as you cup his cheek. “Are you hungry?”
He looks at you confused. “If this is some sneaky way of trying to get out of bed, I can assure you—“
“No.” You shake your head, moving it slightly to the side to showcase your throat. “Are you hungry?”
For a moment there’s an undeniable tension that grows. Festering amongst naked skin and scratchy sheets, it builds by the second, making your chest ache with the kind of nervous anticipation that has you wondering if maybe you shouldn’t have spoke. 
He may be a vampire but thus far he’s managed to keep himself from feeding on you since that first time. Something you were both surprised and disappointed by, considering you had expected him to ask for more. Especially after the reaction of his previous feed. It was obvious that it was enjoyable. A moment of pure decadence that left him wanting more despite the consequences.
“Wait a minute, am I dreaming?”
His face is suddenly inches from yours, his breath wafting against your face through a grin that makes you chuckle. “No.”
 “Are you sure? Because I’m sure I’ve dreamt of this exact scenario once or twice.” 
“Have you now?” 
He hums with a nod, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. “Yes. However, the only difference is that I was in a castle and Cazador’s head was on a stick in the corner.” 
You snort and wrap your arms around his head, pulling him closer. “Sorry to disappoint. Hopefully you can consider my offer the next best thing?”
“I suppose. But only because you were my first.”
First?
Immediately, you wonder if it’s a slip of the tongue —another one of his flirtatious lies sent to woo despite already having you. Given the nature of his past, it wouldn’t be all that surprising. Considering his role under Cazador’s thumb was to charm and lure, you know that lies like this are still second nature. A mechanism of lust ingrained into his psyche. 
Plus, it’s not like it’s possible for you to actually be his first. Having spent most of his time in spaces like this, a bit of bloodletting was bound to happen at some point. It was inevitable really when you think of Astarion’s voice and face and overall ability to manipulate. 
Surely it’d be hard to resist. But then it dawns on you —the severity of his abuse. The tightened leash so carefully tied around his neck for hundreds of years. There’s no way Cazador would’ve allowed him such pleasantries. Despite his efforts —despite the countless opportunities to take his fill, it quickly becomes apparent that he wouldn’t. 
Because he couldn’t. 
Because despite the allowance to explore the city, he was still considering nothing.
It makes your heart simultaneously skip and break, watching the sudden nervousness that clouds his features. The way his cheeky grin sort of falls out of place, showcasing an underlying fear that has him licking his lips and searching your face.
“Is that true?”
All he does is nod his head, looking at you with such sincerity that the only way you’re able to respond is to inhale slowly. To stop and stare and subtly nod back, hoping that he understands.
When he does you’re met with nothing but anticipation. A breathless series of moments leading up to Astarion’s mouth against your throat, warming up the skin with languid licks that have you closing both your eyes, waiting for the pain. 
“I don’t understand what I did to deserve you.” 
The edges of his teeth scrape gently over your skin, making you swallow and sigh, unable to answer because you’re too busy preparing. Too busy expecting the pain before it eventually subsides into that numbness you so desperately crave. 
“Thank you, for this. Truly.”
His voice feels like velvet on your skin. The way it coasts the expanse of it in the softest of praise before it’s surpassed by that first initial jolt, ripping through your flesh in one quick push. Groaning lowly, you feel the presence of his teeth slide inside before you can even process, his lips haphazardly slotting over top to suck.
Without much warning you find yourself lost. Laying slack against the bed, unable to even bring yourself to grab his hair like the first time, you merely ride the wave of pain and pleasure that repeatedly breaks against you. Allowing it all to sink in with a quiet hum that has him smiling against your throat, lapping up bloodshed after bloodshed until he hears the door crash open. 
“It's way past sunrise what the hell are you —oh fucking— Astarion, seriously?”
Both of you look over in horror to see Karlach looking down at the floor —her one hand covering her face as she disapprovingly shakes her head, realizing what she’s just witnessed. 
Upon noticing, you know she isn’t all that surprised —just disappointed. A feeling that makes you sick to your stomach as you work to sit up, swearing under your breath and reaching for the nearest sheet despite your head starting to spin.
“I know we’ve been without proper shelter for months but for god's sake Karlach doors exist for a reason!” 
Mortified, you look between them as Astarion scolds, noticing the subtle smirk that rises over Karlach’s lips. “Well, maybe if the two of you got up when you were supposed to instead of lying around sucking each other off I wouldn’t have to fucking come up here in the first place!”
“To be fair, we never got to the part where I suck him off.”
Immediately, Karlach groans while Astarion snorts, prompting you to press your lips together to suppress a laugh as the energy in the room shifts toward your favour. 
“You two are just —just… come downstairs, please. Gale was supposed to cook breakfast but his hand’s still sore from the fight yesterday.”
“What the hell does that have to do with us?” Astarion asks but unfortunately, you already know the answer.
“You know how protective he gets over the cooking duties.” Annoyed, Karlach rolls her eyes, dropping her hand from her face to motion to you. “He won’t let anyone else but Blood-Bag over here do it.” 
Both of you groan but relent, telling Karlach you’ll be down soon before she grumbles a low you better be before shutting the door. 
When she’s gone you let out a sigh of relief, moving to sit up and shuffle towards the edge of the bed, trying your best to ignore the aching in your neck and the piercing gaze of Astarion’s frustration honing in on his handiwork. 
“Don’t even think about it,” you tell him then, narrowing your eyes at the hunger that lingers beneath the surface, threatening to rise all over again at the sight of your bloodied skin. 
Despite this, you know he’s most definitely thinking about it. Intensely and angrily, it’s probably the only thing he’s thinking about as he watches you push off the bed and move to your pack to grab a washcloth. 
“Can’t I just finish you off?” 
As you wipe down your neck, watching the way he frowns at the waste of blood you groan. “Astarion—“
“Please?” 
He’s at your side in an instant, wrapping his greedy hands around your waist, pulling you in all over again. Convincing you that despite the importance of your compatriot’s breakfast, his fill still reigns supreme. 
“Fine but—“
“I promise to return the favour.” He cuts you off with a smirk. One that’s laced with lust and quickly finds its way back to its home, stopping at the entrance with bated breath.
You can’t help but roll your eyes through your suppressed grin in response, feeling his fangs hit your neck only to stop when the door rings out in a series of knocks causing you both to close your eyes and groan, knowing it’ll have to wait till later. 
A fact that stirs an anger in both of you as you begrudgingly clean and throw on your clothes, attempting to ignore all the tension as you head downstairs to the communal kitchen space. 
Inside there’s about half a dozen bodies, slaving over pots and pans and chatting with their peers as they await their meals. In the corner, Gale and Shadowheart stand chatting amongst themselves, unaware of your presence until you’re standing before them, hands crossed grumpily over your chest. 
“Ah! About time you two showed up! We were beginning to think you’d abandoned the crew —or worse.”
“What could possibly be worse than leaving all of you behind?” Astarion asks dully, prompting you to shoot him a glare that has Shadowheart cocking her head.
“Where’s Karlach? Did she find you?” she asks.  
Both of you nod, trying your best not to reveal the events of her findings before quickly changing the subject, signalling Gale to go into some long-winded rant about the importance of breakfast. 
After that Astarion zones out completely. Standing alongside you, you can tell his mind is elsewhere as you and the wizard discuss the various ingredients you have on hand, working together to ultimately decide on a simple breakfast hash you could’ve easily whipped up without the lecture. 
“Do you want me to supervise or?”
You shake your head. “Seriously Gale. I’m fine. I’ve been cooking since I was five. Go rest with the others.”
It takes some further reassurance; mostly from Shadowheart who insists that you’re right because of how starving she is. But eventually, he manages to set aside his pride with a sigh, muttering something about spices before being dragged away, leaving just the two of you. 
“I swear I’ve never seen a more uptight wizard.” Astarion shakes his head while you wander over to the nearest prep table, producing a cutting board and a blade from Gale’s leftover pack. “I mean, I know they’re all pretty tightly wound but him—“
“Can you start peeling potatoes for me?”
He looks at you like you’ve just insulted his character. With widened eyes and open lips, he takes a minute to look around the room to see if you’re speaking to someone else before he realizes he’s the only one there. “Me?”
“Yes, you. C’mere.”
He does, but only to further stand there and stare, letting out a laugh. “Oh darling, I don’t cook. Hunt, yes, but obviously considering the fangs and all that you and I both know I no longer have a need for culinary skills.”
Ignoring his words you hand him the knife and motion to the spot next to you, watching as he reluctantly obeys. “Peel these then cut them into chunks about this big.” You show him the sizing with your fingers, hoping he’s smart enough to understand before tossing a couple of potatoes in front of him. “Then cut these peppers about half that size.” 
As you hand over the peppers, Astarion continues to look at you in disbelief. “You can’t be serious, darling.”
“Dead, actually.” You grin mischievously, procuring some eggs that Gale managed to trade off of one of the other cooks before you arrived along with a bowl. “Besides, I recall a moment earlier when you said you’d return the favour?”
“Sexually,” he states. Then, he grabs the nearest potato and begins to peel, shakily slicing off a piece of potato skin. “Also, if I recall we didn’t even finish your end of the bargain.”  
“Yet.”
Realizing that you’re right, he merely huffs and continues to peel, wreaking havoc along the knuckles of his fingers in the process. 
It makes you frown, watching him struggle as you crack your eggs and mix, remembering that he probably hasn’t done this in years. For the last two centuries, he was too busy hunting whatever he could find underground, desperately consuming whatever crossed his path —meaning he probably hasn’t used a knife for anything other than violence since before he was turned. A depressing fact that has you reaching for his hand and examining his wounds with tired eyes.
“Can I show you how to hold it?”
There’s a moment where he goes to protest but ultimately accepts, looking at you half-annoyed as you explain the angle at which the knife should sit in his hand and the amount of pressure you should use. 
“I don’t know why you insist on having me help. I don’t eat any of it.” 
As he speaks he still takes your advice, letting the knife carefully slide across the potato, avoiding his knuckles entirely, making you grin. “It’s not about eating. It’s about making something you’re proud of.”
“How can you be proud of something that will no longer exist in an hour?”
You shrug your shoulders, unsure how to explain as the two of you then work in silence. As he peels and cuts, you prep your eggs before moving on to the sausage, dumping the meat into a pan with some simple spices that most definitely weren’t on Gale’s list. 
You discover then how easy this all feels. From the moment you woke up, it’s as if you’ve been transported to a new life. One where the threat of danger is lost just like the stagnant tadpole behind your eye. In your mind, there’s not a care in the world other than Astarion’s knife skills and the hungry bellies that impatiently sit and it’s nice. Simple. The kind of life you quickly find yourself longing to have as the two of you continue to cook, occasionally joking about your peers between flirtatious touches and suggestive comments that have your chest feeling warm.
“You know with some practice you might actually be a handy prep cook.” 
Bumping your hip against Astarion’s you notice a flicker in his gaze. One that’s filled with something foreign and happy as the two of you begin walking out your freshly cooked meal. “I’d say you’re wrong but considering my toxic pride, I’ll merely agree.”
Before you can respond the whole table catches your attention. Their eyes are wide with want as you set the bowl of hash at the centre of the table, barely blinking before they’re shovelling it onto their respective plates and expressing their thanks; filling Astarion with a new kind of pride that makes him fully understand just what you meant earlier. 
-
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What I Mean When I Say, "I Ship Huskerdust"
When I say, "I ship Huskerdust," I don't mean that I think it would be a perfect example of a healthy relationship. Because it wouldn't be.
They've both got issues that they would need to work through if they wanted their relationship to succeed.
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On Angel's side, there's the fact that his prior interactions with Husk basically consisted of him flirting with Husk, and Husk making it clear that he wasn't interested, and Angel ignoring that and doing it again. That's harassment.
Yes, Angel stops doing it after Episode 4, but he never explicitly apologises for it. That was a missed opportunity, in my opinion. It was a change for the show to say loudly and clearly, "Hey, trauma sucks, we get that, but it's not an excuse to treat people badly yourself. You grow by owning up to your mistakes and trying to be better than the person who hurt you."
Speaking of trauma...
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Angel is being abused by Valentino and exploited in the porn industry. That's not a personal failing. It's not Angel's fault. But it has affected him deeply, and it's something that he and Husk would need to work through.
It's not going to be all sunshine and rainbows. Angel will cry, Angel will get angry, Angel will lash out. He will behave inappropriately, and he will keep being hypersexual because he knows how to do it and sometimes it feels like the safest option. And he will have no idea how to just rest with a loved one and trust them. So Husk will need to be the bigger person and take all the ups and downs and keep loving Angel through the dark days.
But I don't know if Husk has what it takes to do that.
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That leads me nicely onto the issues on Husk's side. For starters, there's his judgemental attitude. He's a gambler, and therefore believes he can read people and know everything about them. Angel's "It's not an act!" outburst shakes Husk and makes him realise that he didn't really know what was going on.
But even after that, Husk is still judging Angel. It happens in Episode 6, when Angel is offered drugs by Cherri Bomb and Husk says, "Look, you wanna fuck up all your progress, be my guest. I just ... I just thought you were better than that."
Addicts can relapse if they go back to their old environments and old relationships. It happens. And it's probably not a good idea to be so condemnatory about it.
Can you imagine what Husk's reaction would be if Angel really did relapse? Would Angel feel safe opening up to Husk again if he knew how badly Husk could take it?
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Sometimes, it seems as though Husk puts Angel on a pedestal. In Episode 8, when he tells Angel, "I guess you have changed," Angel doesn't look convinced, instead changing the subject. Husk sees Angel as better than Angel thinks he is.
And that goes hand-in-hand with when he was judging Angel more harshly in earlier episodes. Husk applies higher standards to Angel.
I think part of the reason why Husk is so hard on Angel is because Husk sees something in Angel that he doesn't see in himself - youth and potential. Husk has made it clear that he isn't trying to get into Heaven. He probably doesn't think he deserves it. That's why he told Angel not to look for answers to problems at the bottom of a bottle, but continued to drink himself.
My theory is that Husk is working on Angel because he finds it easier than working on himself.
It's much easier to judge and boss around others than to acknowledge and rectify your own flaws. To borrow a metaphor from Jesus Christ himself, Husk is trying to take specks of sawdust out of Angel's eye while he's still got plenty of planks in his own eye.
One of those planks being his complicity in the Overlord system.
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Yes, I should probably mention that Husk used to be an Overlord. He used to participate in the very system that is now trapping and torturing Angel.
And he gambled with the souls that he owned! He put their afterlives at stake! Can you imagine being owned by Husk, thinking you knew where you stood, and then waking up one day to be told that you were now owned by someone else? Potentially someone as bad as Valentino?
(Now, I don't think Husk ever actually played a game with Valentino, given that he can't seem to remember Val's name in Episode 6, but still, the implications are horrifying.)
Angel didn't have too big a reaction when Husk opened up about his past. But that's probably because he was still reeling a bit from his own outburst. Once it had sunk in, how did he feel?
How can Angel feel safe and loved around someone who used to own souls and gamble with them carelessly? Someone who apparently still has his Overlord powers? Someone who could turn into yet another Valentino in the wrong circumstances?
How can a romance work?
Can a romance work?
Despite all of that?!
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No, when I say, "I ship Huskerdust," I don't mean, "I think they're fluffy and adorable and 100% unproblematic." I mean, "Huskerdust contains interesting dynamics that are fun to explore." There's something about their interactions that I enjoy.
And Huskerdust could be a good way for the cartoon to dive into its themes of redemption and second changes.
Husk could change Angel for the better. We can see that, after Episode 4, Angel is willing to be more honest about what he's going through. He actually tells Niffty about the gruelling 16-hour shift Valentino put him through, instead of trying to pretend he's been all right.
If they became an official couple, Husk could show Angel what it's like to have someone genuinely care for him and his wellbeing, not just use him for money-making or self-gratification. Since Husk isn't interested in Angel's hypersexual porn star persona, it would be a chance for Angel to take the time to figure out who he (Anthony?) really is.
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Angel could change Husk for the better, too. Other Tumblr bloggers have pointed out that Husk seemed to be drinking a little less after Episode 4. Perhaps watching Angel attempting self-improvement encouraged Husk to give it a go as well, albeit in a more low-key way.
And if Husk was the one who got Angel out of his contract with Valentino, that would be a great culmination of his character arc. It would be his own personal redemption for participating in the cruel Overlord system, because he'd be freeing someone from an Overlord's control. He'd be correcting his past mistakes. I for one would love to see that in a future season.
That is what I mean when I say "I ship Huskerdust."
TL;DR Angel and Husk are not perfect people, not by a long shot - but they could be perfect for each other.
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tipsyleaf · 18 days
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Having a baby with Leon (Accidental Pregnancy)
Cw: Talks of sex but no actual sex, talks of abortion, and alcoholism
Vendetta Leon who meets you in a shitty bar one night. He brings you home on a whim to his pigsty of an apartment. Fully expecting you to go running immediately but you stay. Clearing a place off on the couch and talking over beers.
Vendetta Leon who's shocked when you ask for his number after waking up together. Curled up on the couch, cuddling someone for the first time in forever. Enjoying someone's company again instead of shutting people out.
Vendetta Leon that actually sees a friend in you. Knows you're good for him but feels like he doesn't deserve good with everything he's had to do to survive and protect people.
Vendetta Leon who tries keeping you at arms length. Labeling this as a friends with benefits situation. Nothing more. The first time you sleep together tends to replay in his mind a lot. Seeing how beautiful you were. How hungry you were for each other. How both of you seemed to aim to please. It was nothing short of perfection to him.
Vendetta Leon who gave you a key to his place without even thinking about it. It just be easier for the both of us. Or so he claims. Knowing he could easily just keep you away from his apartment, it's not like you didn't let him come over whenever he wanted. But no matter where you were home was with you. Even if he couldn't admit it.
Vendetta Leon who starts getting more and more stressed from work. Sees you almost every night and one thing always leads to another. Tipsy, buzzed or sober. It's been like this for months and he loves seeing you so frequently. But his brain keeps telling him he'll just mess it up if he tries moving past what you have right now.
Vendetta Leon who gets called away for work again. Needs to go off and save the world for the millionth time. Tells you he'll miss you while he's away. He didn't mean to, it just slipped out. But he doesn't take it back, he just waves it off. More concerned about how you said you weren't feeling well when he got to your place. Deciding to stay the night and just cuddle before he leaves in the morning.
Vendetta Leon who comes back from New York City. A bit paranoid because you haven't returned any of his texts or calls. Hoping something bad didn't happen while he was away. Walking into his apartment he drops his bag in shock...
Vendetta Leon who stares at a spotless apartment. Everything back in place where it should be. He finds a letter and your key on the coffee table. The letter saying how you can't deal with this anymore and you couldn't say goodbye without at least giving him a gift of a clean home and hopefully a clean conscience.
Vendetta Leon who gets upset, trying to call you repeatedly. This doesn't feel like you. Did you find someone? Did you not actually care about him the entire time?! You shared so much with each other, he trusted you enough to let you in.
Vendetta Leon who slams his phone into the couch as his calls go straight to voicemail. Something's wrong... He can tell. He knows you well enough that you wouldn't be ghosting him like this without a reason. So he decides, against his better judgement, to just go over to your apartment.
Vendetta Leon who decides to knock until you open the door, he's a stubborn man and wants answers. The door opens, an older man glaring at him.
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"Yes?" He didn't expect you to have company over. Who the hell is this? Have you actually found someone in the span of a few days? Was he really that replaceable?? His attention snaps back, the older man staring him down. He stutters out your name before clearing his throat.
"Is she here?"
"My daughter's at the doctor's with her mother right now." Oh, this is your father. Thank God. "She should be back soon."
"Is everything okay?" The older man sighs, rubbing his eyes, he looks tired and agitated.
"It better be, she's carrying my grandchild."
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Leon who feels his heart fall through his body. You're pregnant... And he's definitely the father. There's quite literally no way he isn't, you've been spending almost every waking minute together in the past 6 months unless you're the next virgin Mary.
Leon, the father of your child who listens your father ramble about some bum knocking up his precious babygirl... He bites his tongue, asking your father to PLEASE make sure you call him.
Leon who sits in his clean apartment with not so clean conscience. Feeling the dirtiest he's ever been before. How could he be so stupid and careless? The few times you didn't use protection he'd thought nothing would happen. He knows you take birth control. It's got a high success rate, he wouldn't have to worry. It's not like he didn't want kids, he even liked loved the woman who'd be blessing him with a child.
This could be his last chance of normalcy.
Leon who nearly throws himself towards his phone when it vibrates. A text from you. Announcing that you'll be coming over.
Leon who feels his bones vibrate seeing you for the first time in days, the glow on your skin more obvious that he knows you're carrying his child. You look beautiful, though you always look beautiful.
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"Look..." You storm past him into his own apartment. He shuts the door behind you and follows you to the couch. "I knew you'd freak out if I told you... We're both kind of fucked up I didn't want-"
"Are you keeping the baby?" He's blunt and to the point when asking his questions. He always is.
"I don't know... The doctor said I'm probably only a month along." You look so unsure of yourself. "What... What do you think I should do?"
"Keep them." Your eyes go wide as he smiles softly.
"What?"
"Keep the baby... I want it. I want you. If you'll have me." You stare in shock, blinking as he steps forward and brings you into his chest. "Did you think I would freak out and bail?"
"Leon... We're both heavy drinkers and we've been dancing around each other since we met. I figured cutting you loose was the best option."
"Well, then we'll just have to clean up our acts together I guess... For ourselves and the baby."
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Leon who reassures you you can both grow. Put in the effort of fixing yourselves. Together.
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gyu-effect · 9 months
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[13:09]
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PAIRING || Jeonghan x Female Reader
GENRES || Smut, Enemies To Lovers AU (kind of-)
WARNINGS || minors dni, sub!reader, dom!jeonghan, dacryphilia, pet names, slightly mean jeonghan but also soft jeonghan, begging [let me know if i missed anything pls]
WORD COUNT || 0.8k
A/N || yes this went completely against my principles because i never, NEVER write mean hannie (hes an angel okay???) but here we are....struggling to get rid of my writers block
TAGLIST ||​ @hanicore @alyssng @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @toshijimafarms @weebotakuboy [if you want to be added to my taglist, fill in this form!]
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“what was that, princess?” jeonghan asked, gently pinching the soft flesh of your ass. he felt you clench around his cock at the pet name, causing him to dig his nails into your hip even more as he pushed himself impossibly deeper inside you. 
“‘m being a good girl.” you sniffled, your voice muffled by the pillow. you sounded so pathetic right now that he almost gave in to you, all judgements clouded by lust. 
jeonghan wondered for a second if you had known that this was how things would have ended up as when the teacher had paired up him, the troublemaker of the class with you, the goody two shoes class topper. he knew you had always hated his guts and honestly, jeonghan wouldn’t have cared about it if he didn’t love riling you up that much.
“good girl? i don’t think good girls act so shamelessly, y/n.” he sneered, reaching down to pinch your hardened nipple. you let out another whimper, this time clutching the pillow as you screwed your eyes shut, tears streaming out. 
“you okay?” he asked worriedly, scared all of a sudden that he had accidentally hurt you but when you nodded, he reverted back to his mean self. “i wish you could see yourself now. how opathetic you are. and all for me. the person you ‘hate’.”
and he really wished you could see what a pathetic mess you were. your hair was completely dishevelled and your lips were swollen as you drooled onto his pillow. 
“p-please, hannie. will be good to you forever, promise.” you sobbed. oh. so it was hannie now, huh? a few minutes ago, he was nothing short of yoon jeonghan to you but now that you were reduced to nothing but a whimpering, blubbering mess, he was hannie?
“too bad i can’t really say no when you ask like that princess.” he muttered, before slowly moving his hips in and out of you. you moaned at the friction, arching your back a little as relief finally flooded into your throbbing cunt. 
jeonghan himself had a hard time keeping control of himself and not just ramming into you. you were so, so wet for him, and so warm that he really couldn’t help himself when a few groans escaped his lips. the way your walls kept clenching around him erratically caused a coil to form in his stomach, tightening as your moans got louder.
“h-hannie.” you sobbed, nearly causing his hips to stutter by the sound of it. you felt so good, so good, he really didn’t want to stop, not when your pussy kept squeezing his cock so well each time he tried to pull out. it was like it didn’t want him to go, like you didn’t want him to go. “go faster, please.”
he didn’t need to be told a second time. reaching down, he wrapped his hand around your neck, giving it a light squeeze, before running his hand through your body to reach your clit, rubbing the swollen bud. 
you let out a gasp at the action. “‘m close, so close hannie.” you muttered. he felt his balls clench at your words, the coil in his stomach threatening to snap too. 
“what if i say no?” he said, all of a sudden amused by the idea of you begging. he really hadn’t ever thought of you begging but if you did, he was sure that was an image that was going to be burned in his head forever. “what if i say you can’t come? only good girls should get what they deserve, right?”
“no no no.” you choked. “i’ll-i’ll be better! i’ll be nicer to you too, hannie! i’ll be such a good girl that you’ll only want to fuck me everytime.” 
that’s all it took to crumble his willpower. jeonghan accidentally pressed against your clit a bit too hard and he immediately felt you clamp around him tightly, a hot liquid coating his cock as the coil inside him snapped too, coating your insides with his warm seeds.
the exhaustion hit him almost immediately but he made sure not to collapse right on you, opting to lay down beside you instead, his soft member slipping out of you as he pulled you to his chest.
the room quieted down for a while, only filled with the sound of your ragged breathing as you tried to catch your breaths. 
“the bed’s a mess.” he heard you say after some time, the disgust very evident in your voice. for some reason, it made him smile fondly as he once again remembered how much you usually hated him. 
“that’s okay princess, we can clean it up after we shower.” he said, quickly pressing a kiss on the base of your neck. 
you turned to him and frowned. “why does it sound like we are going to fuck there too?”
he pretended to look surprised. “what happened to hannie?” he asked, causing you to roll your eyes as you asked again. “why does it sound like we are going to have another round in the shower, hannie?”
“well,” he began, before pressing another kiss on your lips. “because you promised to be a good girl just for me, didn’t you?”
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A/N: Please do tell me what you think about this story!! I worked really hard on it and I would love to know everyone’s thoughts on it~ Comments and reblogs are appreciated!  
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© 𝐆𝐘𝐔-𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑
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