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chrissshub · 2 days

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KAMA SUTRA SESSIONS!

°❀°•༢ ❥ SYNOPSIS: When you get an appointment from a passing athlete who wants to better his game with women, who's better to answer the call than the resident sęx therapist?

°❀°•༢ ❥ CW: 8.7k words, told in first person, sẽx therapist!fem!reader, post timeskip!ushijima, not mentioned but ages are both 26, use of an oc, dialogue-heavy, pwp, peņetration, cunnilīngus, fiňgering, sqûirting, implied size difference, unprotected

°❀°•༢ ❥ DEAR READER, FROM CHRIS: So this was inspired by my most recent field of study: s*x and the kama sutra. and from my research and thinking "hm, who would have an interest in this?" is how this fic came to be. hope you enjoy!

In the life as a sex therapist, there’s some things that you hear, see, and even experience that add years to the career.

At first, I thought it was going to be a failed business move, considering that sex is seen as a taboo topic by some. I mean, it’s a process as natural as birth but people shame it with such strong resentment…like it’s an unimaginable evil that’s ruining the world.

I couldn’t help but to think my discouragement was properly placed. I was in a town with families, retirees, no one that would really need my advice.

That “failed business move” of a thought lasted all of a week.

Thanks to the small pickett signs I personally had made and placed around the office building’s parking lot and nearby plazas, I had clients booking with me by the hour.

Couples of all ages—some married, some divorced, many singles, even polyamorous groupings contacted my office.

When people heard of a new sex therapist entering the area and started booking sessions with me, I could only wish to know what was going through their minds.

I’ve dealt with teary confessions about how wives have lost attraction for their husbands, husbands who come to terms with the fact that they don’t know how to please their wives. I’ve even gotten singles who’ve come in just to make sure they still know how to perform in the bedroom.

In these past four years, I’ve learned that just because people shun the idea of sex and sexual education during the day, they’ll come on their hands and knees at night. It’s been an interesting ride, but I can proudly say that I’ve helped many people in the area rekindle their sparkle and to finally achieve their goals with their partners.

The days I’ve spent at the office were nothing short of fulfilling—and today was supposed to be like no other.

Supposed to, of course.

My day started out like normal; waking up in my bed with my eyes fluttering open. The first thing I settled my hazy squint onto was the rays of sunlight peeking through my creme shutters, begging to illuminate my room.

I pried my hand from underneath my pillow to grab my phone off on my bedside table, the screen greeting me with a single message:

(1) VOICEMAIL FROM: Hana

Hana, my cheeky, bright-eyed, receptionist. She joined me when she was a freshman at the local community college, just taking classes until she figured out what she wanted to do with her life. Fast-forward to today, she’s a fresh graduate with a bachelors in psychology.

She’s taken it upon herself to call her around 6 A.M every day with a debrief of the day ahead. When I asked her why she does it, the sweet girl simply told me the extra effort was the least she could do.

Since then, I’ve bumped her pay high enough so that she can support herself by herself and haven’t pressed the topic a vowel further.

With my debriefing at hand, I sat up in my bed, sleep still lingering behind my eyelids. I have half a mind to cancel whatever appointments I have today and sleep just for an hour more. But when I looked down at the time on my screen, it was a reality I knew I couldn’t afford.

9:00 A.M.

My office opened in an hour and my first appointment always starts at 10:30…bless me.

“Okay, Hana, let’s see what you have for me,” I mumbled as I clicked on the awaiting tab.

As my thumb pressed the play button, Hana’s voice instantly became my background noise for my morning routine—which began in the bathroom for a shower.

“‘Morning, Y/N! Hope you slept well! I have good news and bad news for you. And no, I can’t give you the bad news first because it’s intertwined with the good news. So for starters, you have a light day—one appointment! Bad news…and this is a first for us…this client booked you for a few hours.”

“Hours?!? What the fu—“

Just hearing that made me pop my head from behind the glass shower door. Clients usually meet with me for an hour, an hour and a half if needed but hours???

“I know exactly what you’re thinking because…what the fuck?? But when I explain more about him, I think you’ll be impressed.”

“Okay, you’ve got a bit of a celebrity on your hands today. This one is Ushijima Wakatoshi. He’s 26, a player for the Schweiden Alders…a professional volleyball team. He’s playing a game against our national team and is gonna be in town for a few days. He booked with you because, and this is in his words, he says that he’s a little “awkward in the realm of love and wants to improve his social skills and….intimate skills.” He also sent over test results…he’s clean, just to let you know . So…have fun with this one!”

And just like that, Hana’s cheery voice was reduced to naught, melding with the stillness of my bathroom.

I turned off the water, standing in a foggy haze. There was only one thought in my mind:

Well then, Ushijima Wakatoshi…let’s start the day together right.

✧─── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

“Hana! Oh my sweet flower, I brought your favorite♪!” I sang, entering through the office’s front door.

Hana lifted her head from behind the monitor, her bright smile complementing my own.

“An omlettle with cheese and hash browns on the side?!?” She squealed, jumping from her seat.

“Mhm! Enjoy!”

Before I could take a step further, Hana ran to greet me with a hug, her curly black hair dusting along my chest.

“Thank you, Thank you!” She cheered, stepping back from me. She quickly took the stuffed brown bag from my hands before returning to her desk.

With a fading grin, I turned my attention down towards my top, a fitted rose dress shirt with just a few top buttons left undone. I wiped a few wrinkles away, shifting my attention down to my black pressed slacks that didn't face the same fate.

Still just as fresh and clean as when I left my apartment.

“So,” I began as I walked towards Hana. “How much do I have before our guest checks in?”

“Mmm, about 20. But Y/N…he’s so hot! I looked him up and wow! Like…I’m kinda confused how he’s having issues with girls. I’m sure the women at his matches throw themselves at him,” Hana gushed between a bite of her omelette.

I leaned against the rim of the desk, resting my red leather purse and my hips along the surface.

“Oh, you know how it goes. Looks can get you far, but it’s your words and actions that determine your success. I bet he does look good, but he probably needs more work on his confidence.”

“Ah, true. Well, you go tidy up your office and I’ll run the vacuum out here in a few,” Hana said, her hand shooing me away.

I grabbed my bag and giggled, “Okay, okay! But—“

I couldn’t even finish my thought when the front door tolled open, gaining a stare out of Hana and me.

“Um…excuse me…I’m here for Dr. L/N. I have an appointment at 10:30, but I just wanted to show up a little early,” the deep voice announced.

I turned my head to meet the owner behind such a voice, just for my eyes to be stunned at the sight.

A man, a tall one at that. He stood in the middle of the office with a straight face, staring back at Hana and I. His hair was a shade of brown unique to him only, brushed back to reveal his entire face. His features were strong—his jawline sharp, his cheekbones high, brows trimmed and clean, his eyes glimmering like that of a polished citrine gem.

Hana was right…he really was something to marvel at.

He stood with his hands behind his back, impassively waiting for someone to reply—or not, he really seemed unbothered.

I didn’t even need to guess what his physique could be underneath such proper garb. Those muscles weren’t shy of peeking beneath the navy suit he wore. The white dress shirt beneath was crisp, and no tie was in sight —which I guess is casual to him.

I bit my lip softly, I’ve never been intimidated by a man before, but this one made my face swell with a wafting heat. So this is Ushijima Wakatoshi…the name fits him perfectly.

Nonetheless, I had a job to do.

I rolled my shoulders back and began a few short steps towards him, the click of my heels slienced against the plush sage green carpet.

There I was, standing before him. My height met him just beneath his collar—and that’s thanks to my heels. I held my hand out to him, my glossed lips curling into a rich smile.

“Mr. Ushijima, it’s so nice to meet you! I’m Dr. L/N, but Y/N works just fine. This is Hana, my lovely receptionist.”

His hand was rough and worked, but slid against my palm like butter, his warmth melding into my touch. His thumb sat past my own, the rough pad swiping ever so softly along my skin. When my eyes finally eased from their shared smile as my lips, I couldn’t look away from him.

His own gaze was captivating, almost entrapping me in a trace of just him and I. I watched as his lips curled into a faint smile, a brief flash of white meeting my eyes.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s wonderful to meet you! Please, feel free to call me Ushijima or Wakatoshi! I’ve been waiting for this appointment for a while now..

He broke away from our contact to give his attention to Hana, waving to her with his other hand.

“And it’s nice to meet you too, Hana! Thank you for your hard work!”

I didn’t need to look back to know the look on Hana’s face: she’s a flustered mess with her tongue caught in a shudder.

“O-Oh…thanks, sir! It’s not without Y/N, though. I c-can tell you that you’ll be in…great hands!.”

Ushijima turned his sights back towards me, that muted curl of his lips growing into a full-bodied smile at last.

“I sure hope so.”

I gave Ushijima one last smile before taking my hand away from his, my hands clasping together.

“Let’s begin! I’ll bring you back and we’ll get on,” I announced, turning away from Ushijima.

As I passed by the desk, I grabbed my bag and gave Hana a swift smirk, one she returned with a wink.

Ushijima and I descended down the hall until we arrived to a room a door down from my office, room 165.

I turned the doorknob as I leaned against the white door, “Come on in.”

Ushijima nodded as he passed me, the faint scent of his cologne whisked past my nose. It’s rich—bergamot, some sage, amber, and even a hint of vanilla. That’s a good mix, and his body isn’t rejecting it, a man who knows his signature scent is a rare one these days.

The room I bought us to was of decent size—about the size of a child’s bedroom. The walls were handpainted by Hana and I some years ago, a soft peach with white carpeting. The furniture was all espresso colored, from the two leather seats that faced one another, the coffee table between the two, and the bookshelf that stood against the window.

It was a pretty comfy room, one that many current and past clients raved about.

“Pick your side and get comfortable, we’re gonna be here awhile,” I teased, closing the door behind me.

“I must apologize for that. I heard about you some time ago during a tournament and I’ve always wanted to have a sit down with you. And since I don’t come to the States often, I thought it was best to have an ample amount of time with you,” Ushijima confessed as he settled into the leather arm chair.

I followed suit, placing my bag onto the table as I sank into the seat.

“Oh, don’t apologize! You’re actually my only client today, so we can take up all day if need be. I want you to leave here confident and more sure of yourself. Which brings me to my first question…”

I folded my legs over one other, resting my hands within my lap. My eyes settled over Ushijima, not with the same set that marveled at him just minutes before. This time, I excused his attraction for purpose, preparing myself to ask the timeless question:

“What brings you in today?”

Ushijima brought himself to sit up in his seat, his large hands drifting to brace his clothed thigh.

“Well, put shortly—I wanna get better with women. I can’t talk to them, and then I see my teammates—they can strike up a conversation with them so easily. And women do talk to me, but it’s just not…oh how can I put this…with substance?”

“What do women say to you?” I asked, leaning back into the couch.

“Just talk about my looks, or how impressed they are. I’ve heard it one too many times, it gets tiring. I know they’re just trying to make conversation with me by complimenting me, but those things just bore me. My teammates love that kind of attention, but it all seems pointless to me.”

“And why is that?”

“Because,” Ushijima sighed. “It’s just going to go nowhere. I’m not into hooking up, the thought bores me honestly. I mean, I feel that you don’t get the best of someone after one night, especially if your goal is just sex.”

“So then Ushijima—”

“Wakatoshi…please call me, Wakatoshi,” Ushijima intervened, a feeble smile creeping onto his face.

“Okay…Wakatoshi, call me Y/N. Doctor is just too formal for me,” I added. “But it still begs the question, Wakatoshi: What are you looking for?”

“As in my romantic goals or my type?”

“Both work perfectly! Your interests do tie into your romantic goals,” I informed him.

Now, it’s so unbecoming of me to ask a client what their type is…but Ushijima is such a special case that I’ll overlook just this once.

After posing the question to him, Ushijima took a moment of silence to ponder, his eyes narrowing down on me.

“My type is…smart. Really smart. A put together woman with a good sense of humor. I’m more on the rigid side but I do appreciate a woman who can find joy in things. Her beauty goes without saying, so basically—a woman of substance.”

“Okay, sounds—

“What’s your type?”

Just the query to catch me off my guard…and pique my interest. In all my years, I’ve never had a client return any of my questions to me; I didn’t think Ushijima would be the first.

My cheeks flickered with heat, but I found comfort within the moment by biting my tongue softly. My eyes were pinned on him, Ushijima still wearing that blank yet firm expression on his face— neutral eyes, brows stilled and his mouth free of any curl or twitch.

Just a peaceful face behind a stinging question.

“I don’t see how that matters…?” I said, staring at Ushijima through a razor-sharp squint.

“But it does matter. It’s not a hard question unless you make it one,” he continued. “What’s your type of man, Y/N? It’d be nice to know, since we’re gonna be here awhile together.”

A grin perked up onto his lips, the cracks of pearly white teeth breaking onto the scene.

“Can’t I ask you some questions too?”

My lips broke apart between a brewing sigh, the tip of my tongue pressed against the gummy flesh of my cheek. I can’t deny him to be honest, we are stuck here for some time, and this session couldn’t continued as a one sided conversation forever.

“Alright, my type…my type…. I like a tall man, a nice athletic build, keeps himself well kept. As far as personality: smart, kind, respectful, responsible, and thoughtful. Thoughtfulness, however, is a big one for me. It’s nice to know you mean so much to someone that they would take actions out of that place of love. That’s quite admirable in my eyes.”

There was an air of silence between Ushijima and I. He sat still and I did the same. Our eyes hadn’t broken from each other either, yet the softening hues of olive green made me feel calm beneath Ushijima’s gaze.

But this was an appointment, not a staring contest. I was the first to break the silence.

“A-hem..Um… well, I digress, let’s continue,” I choked out.

I broke the eye contact Ushijima and I worked so hard to maintain with a simple blink, searching for the next territory of topic to enter.

“So where did we—talked about types…but that’s not exactly helpful in the slightest. I know you wanted to address conversation too, but can you explain a little bit more?”

Ushijima nodded calmly, but that wasn’t all I got from him. Vunerabilty was one hell of a feeling, and it dusted the highs of his cheeks red. And as his skin began to run hot, Ushijima himself grew antsy, his hand coming to rub at the nape of his neck.

But…it was cute to me. The emotions I see on a daily basis are pride, sadness, anger—but embarrassment is a rare one that I can always appreciate.

“I…I don’t know how to flirt. It’s always awkward and I honestly feel stupid,” he mumbled, his stare pinned down at his pants.

“I hear you,” I consoled, a faint smile crowding at my lips.

“It’s such an unspoken realm that everyone is expected to know how to do but with no explanation. Flirting is something that is also unique to each person. It can be acts of kindness, giving compliments,—or the complete opposite. Some people like to tease, play rough, or even act cold as a form of flirting.”

Ushijima followed along with me, nodding his head every so often.

“So then, what is the best way of flirting?” He asked.

“Well, I can’t say. —

“Let me rephrase,” He interjected. “What would a man have to do or say to you in order for you to be interested in him?”

“Wit.”

“Wit?”

“Yeah, I love witty, intelligent conversations. It could be anything and I’ll find interest in it. Just being able to express your intelligence to me—whether it be on topic you know or asking questions, I love it all. I guess to keep it short, the mind and how a man expresses his knowledge is what gets me interested.”

The presence of a faint grin lit up Ushijima’s face.

“That’s what it takes, hm…”

An air of enticement bled into the room and it shamefully claimed me as its victim. I’ll admit, I’ve never had a client as interesting as Ushijima. Aside from his genuine intrigue about sex and the ways of courting, he seems to have something more on his mind—and I wanted to know every single detail. But he plays along too well, thanks to that blank expression he wears so proudly. But he slipped up with that damn grin, now it’s my turn to play the next hand.

I placed my hand on the open cushion beside me, the tips of my fingers drumming along the leather surface.

“Come sit, let’s do an exercise…just so it really sinks in. Maybe you’ll be able to use this as reference for the next lady that catches your eye.”

And just like that, Ushijima was swift to oblige. I was hooked on the sight of him standing from his seat, his hand toying with the buttons of his blazer. The white dress shirt he wore was finally revealed to me, the subtle hints of his muscular frame peeking through.

His steps were calm and controlled, carefully trudging around the glass coffee table. Ushijima held himself with a confidence unmatched to any man I’ve met thus far. He was interesting to observe, and even more fun to tease. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in seeing how far we could go, all kinds of thoughts were plaguing my mind.

As he stood over me, I had to bite back a smile, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip.

This was turning out to be an interesting session, after all.

Ushijima placed himself on the couch at an arm’s length away, leaving an untasteful gap amongst us. Yet when my eyes had fallen on his stoic face, the man’s fair skin was budding with the innocence of pink.

“Well don’t be shy, Wakatoshi,” I cooed. My hand patted at the spot just beside my thigh, hinting for him to move closer.

“We are here together for quite some time, might as well get…a little close.”

With a firm nod, Ushjima bridged the gap between strangers to acquanitances among us, his body now resting snug at my side. He had yet to face me, as if he was embarrassed to do. I noticed that he kept his hands in his lap, his digits nervously fiddling around.

I reached over to his hand, softly grazing along the back of his hand to ease his worries.

“Ushijima? You ready? We don’t have to do this, if you’re not comfortable—”

“No, let’s do it,” he huffed, his body turned towards me. “What kind of exercise are we doing?” He asked, turning his body to face me.

“Great! For the exercise, let’s pretend we’re meeting at…oh, I dunno, a bar. Do your best to try and ask me out on a date.”

“Um…Y/N…you do realize that the fact that I can’t ask anyone on a date is why we’re here, right?”

“Yes…I do, thank you for that. Use your imagination—a bar has ambiance lighting, soft music, drinks on rotation, play on the environment, and make a good impression, okay?”

Ushijima sat in silence for a moment, his eyes narrowing as the seconds passed. I could assume that he was thinking—really thinking at that.

I almost pulled into my own daze of boredom, the color of the walls catching my eye—until the quiet mumble of his voice broke the stilled air.

“Well…what do you drink at a bar?”

I tucked my leg beneath me as I shifted myself to give Ushijima my full and undivided attention. He mirrored me, turning so that we were both facing one another. Yet again, our eyes locked, unwilling to falter from the view we had of one another.

“I usually go for a glass of wine, I’m not a fan of heavy liquor.”

“Wine’s a good choice. Are you someone who pairs wine with food?”

I shook my head, “Not really. But, I do know that red wine goes best with some fruits, chocolate, and steak. Rosé goes best with grilled vegetables or salmon, and white is the best of both worlds.”

“Oh really?” Ushijima hummed. “I never realized wine could be so specific. Since you know so much, why not put your knowledge to the test?”

“And how are we gonna do that?”

A soft smile grew across Ushijima’s lips. He seemed to relax a bit–his shoulders laxed, his side now resting against the couch’s back cushions, he even shifted a bit closer to me too; all of which made me ease up too. I wasn’t feeling as guilty as I was before–if anything, I was pleased with the way our exercise was going.

Ushijima has such a nice, easy voice that greets the ear so kindly, and his eyes were just so alluring to stare into, I could sit here for hours just watching how his moss green hues catch the light of every hour. Not to mention that the scent of his cologne was finally welcomed into the scene, just wafting past my nose every so often.

He had all the making of an ideal guy, so why isn’t he–

“I know a place near here, a nice restaurant with a wine cellar in the basement,” he led on. “ They have collections that date back years, and from what I know, the darker the wine, the richer…no, the sweeter it drips on the tongue. I’d like to hear your thoughts in a…professional setting, if you may.”

“I’d like that,” I nodded, a curling grin consuming my senses. “I’m sure you’d have some thoughts to tell me too.”

Ushijima shrugged, his hand coming to brace the pulse of his neck. “Honestly, there’s a lot on my mind I could tell you so much right now, but then…well…we might not make it to the restaurant. And I’m just dying to pour you a glass of wine, so…for now I’ll be paitent.”

I pushed my lips into a wading pout. I could feel my eyes softening beneath his gaze. He could find the time to tease me back while flustered like this…interesting.

“And what if I don’t have the same patience?” I pried, a sly smirk pressed onto my lips.

That’s when Ushijima sealed the end of our improv scene, bringing his hull of a body to overshadow my own. His lips came to fill the shell of my ear with an esteemed chuckle. His breath painted against my skin, awakening my nerves to greet him. I was helpless, at his every whim—and not a fiber in me wanted it any other way.

“Then I’ll just have to tease you ‘til you break…right?”

He drew himself back gradually, our dilated eyes catching sight of each other once more. I was at a loss for words, my lips agape beneath the heat of shock. At that moment, all I could think about what would follow—his lips crashing into mine, his hands bracing every curve of my body. I wanted to be under him, to have to stare up into those eyes to plead for relief from the stirring heat flaring about my body.

But then again, this isn’t some magic fairytale…it’s an appointment.

“How was that?” He asked, his words breaking my sinful chain of thought.

“Good,” I complimented, hiding my roused thoughts behind a smile. “You’ll most definitely get a date like that.”

“Well, I might have gotten the date, but I wanna be able to…y’know…”

“To what, Ushijima? You gotta be a little more clear than that,” I smirked.

His skin began to flush itself of its tan shade in lieu of the trickles of rose dotting the highs of his cheek.

“To…please a woman.”

“Please? Like…please and thank you? I hate speaking in code…especially in a professional setting.” I continued to press.

If I had known he was so shy towards the topic of sex earlier, then we would’ve been able to ease into it. But for him to tease me like that…it’s only fair I return the gracious favor.

Ushijima’s eyes shot wide, a gasp breaking his lips apart. He was reluctant, but he gave in, biting at his bottom lip.

“Fine…I wanna know how to be good at sex…happy?”

“Oh, well to be good at sex is just the same as being a good lover. And I can show you how with this…" I trailed off.

I quickly rose from my spot on the couch, setting my sights on my bookcase. A few steps brought in front of the shelved plethora of knowledge, eyes searching for the spine of the book needed for the moment.

"Ah! Here we are," my hand plucking out the book from its peers.

“This…is the Kama Sutra. It’s an ancient Indian text written by the Hindu philosopher, Vātsyāyana Mallanaga; that explains how both men and women can lead rich sexual and social lifestyles. The Kama Sutra has become associated with sex positions over the years, but it doesn’t make it a heavy presence within the book.”

I returned to Ushijima’s side, seating myself beside him with the book in tow. I rested the Kama Sutra on his lap, allowing him to absorb the famed text. I watched as his eyes flitted about the cover, tracing every word to be found.

“Wanna flip through it?” I suggested, softly tugging at the book cover.

“Yeah,” Ushijima nodded. “I’m interested.”

From the moment I opened the book, Ushijima and I were bound by the knowledge of the old world. The pages were written in english, yet the message was something that transcended all known languages. I went on to explain to him how the kama sutra devled into how sex between two lovers should be enjoyable for everyone, and how the pleasure of the woman would lead to ultimate satisfaction for both parties.

Though I’ve read it before for papers, presentations, and even for my dissertation, reading it with Ushijima was an experience that struck the strings of my heart in a special way.

Maybe it was becasue he expressed a genuine interest in the questions he asked. Or maybe it was the cute reactions he made when things finally clicked. Or maybe it was the plain fact that I had someone beside me to read it with for once.

From time to time, I took a few moments to study Ushijima’s reaction to his answered questions. He would blink a few times, as though he had to internalize all of what was said. Then, he’d peered over to me with a smile curling up the corners of his mouth.

Our chase of knowledge led us to the chapter on positions, the page’s title calling for Ushijima’s attention to be riled.

“This chapter looks short. Where are the positions?”

“Well, the Kama Sutra actually doesn’t have any positions, it gives advice on how to select and personalize positions between lovers.”

“Huh,” he huffed. “…and what does that look like?

“Want me to show you?”

A blanket of silence fell over him, and he’s back to wearing that blank, sedated look on his face.

Damn, was that too strong? It was a little forward but I know it’s nothing—

“If it’s not too much…I’d be honored.”

“Well, then,” I grinned as I placed the book atop of the glass tabletop. “Let’s get started.”

Ushijima’s hand nuzzled along my waist, guiding me over his lap to straddle him.

“You can just sit right on me, I think we’re getting a little closer, yeah?”

“I think we are, but we can get closer too, y’know.”

“And can we do that?”

With that burning question of his, I was forced to bear the weight of what lust looks in his eyes—his pupils dilating, his eyelids growing heavy, and a mischievous smirk tracing his lips.

“Do you wanna be on top?” I quizzed, toying with the top button of his dress shirt.

“Well I’m just here to observe, so I think you should be on top,” he said, leaning back against the couch. He brought me down with him, his hands nestled along my lower back. Just like that, my chest was smothered against the tauntingly chiseled mass of his own.

My hands languidly skimmed along the face of Ushijima’s shirt. He held still as my touch consumed him and his senses whole, his lungs coaxed into a steam of shaky shallow, breaths.

“Y’know, we have to find a way to make this position our own, make sure we fit each other just right,” I hummed, draping my arms along his broad shoulders. I lowered myself further into his groin, pressing up against something hard…and twitchy.

That’s when I felt it, a thick bulge nested right between Ushijima and I.

Men are so easy, it’s so cute.

That stoic face of his was cracking right before my eyes—his eyes screwed shut, lips stunning with a puffy pout, his cheeks brushed with the innocent hues of blush. He looked so lost in his own heat, desperately squirming for a remedy.

“Oh my-fuck, Y/N. What do you want from me? I’ll do anything, just say the word!”

I brought my thumb to tug along the plush of Ushijima’s bottom lip, his glossed skin clinging to my touch.

“Aww, where’s the patience you had earlier? I thought you were gonna tease me? But seeing you like this…it’s a good look on you too, Wakatoshi.”

A gentle grin eased itself into Ushijima’s features, fueled by the same salacious nature dotting his eyes. His hold over me shifted, his hand slipping down to grasp at the thick curve of my ass. He even found the chance to snake his hand between us to cup at the underside of my thigh. He kept me near, forcing his chest to curl into mine as he sat up once more.

“I can guarantee you one thing, Y/N.” Ushijima huffed, his heavy eyes peering up at me.

“Oh, and what’s that?”

“After me, you won’t ever need another lover.”

My hazy stare fluttered between his eyes and his lips, capturing the sight of It was almost likat was all I needed to finally be sealed beneath his trance. And because of that, I was able to press a soft peck onto Ushijima’s lips, breaking away just to whisper words of encouragement for his racing mind to catch.

“Then prove it.”

Sharing my spite, Ushijima’s lips bared one final smirk before crashing against my own. His kiss told me all I needed to know–soft, puffy, and clinging to my own. The supply curves of his lips caught every pushing tide I offered, ignithing a ravenous intent deep within us both.

His hands roamed over my body, claiming every curve, every inch of me for his taking. It’s dizzying to have him like this, a nonchalant man turned hungry for every crumb to offer. He was getting restless, his hips bucking for friction all over again.

Maybe I was so focused on how dumb his lips had driven me or his hands tracing my body like a sculpture to his sculpture, but how he managed to have me pinned beneath him and smothered into the leather cushion is a mystery to me alone, but I wasn’t about to complain.

How could I when he smothered me beneath the thick of his chest, sending my head into a dizzied frenzy But with the way his lips carried such care to dance with mine was enough for me to forgive him for being so needy. The same needy–no, greedy nature made him take control without any room for debate, and I surely wasn’t planning on starting anything I couldn’t finish.

“Mm, Y/N?” He mumbled, breaking our kiss.

“Hm?"

“If I remember correctly, didn’t the book say I should make you cum a few times? Through your pleasure, I'll find mine right?"

"Look at you, guess you really are learning. I think it did...so what are we gonna do about that?"

I didn’t need to hear the words to know what he had planned. I lifted my hips to help him, his hands stripping me free of my pants.

Ushijima slotted himself between the couch and the table, clutching at my waist from below.

His arms hooked around my thighs, his hands resting within the crease of my thighs, his filled palms squeezing at the plush fat. He seemingly ignored the fact that my underwear—the most annoying fact to exist—was still on.

Until his fingers began to trace along the pink lace. Slowly, carefully, and lazily he dragged the pad of his digit all over my panties, feeding some new whim of his.

I watched him for a while as he led with his own agenda. Until I couldn’t sit still without some answer.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Am I?” He retorted, his eyes darting to meet mine.

His touch burned with the thrill of tease as he gradually followed the edges towards the inseam of my panties. The pad of his middle finger was all he relied on as he carefully traced the puffy lips of my pussy.

His finger sunk between my clothes lips, just for his discovery to be rewarded with the bud of my clit. That’s when Ushijima pinned his stare on me, antagonizing me into a game of endurance.

Those aimless strokes turned into a series of sloppy circles, Ushijima claiming my clit as his latest victim in his game of taunts.

A whine cracked from behind my lips, something was stirring deep within me. He’s just teasing me but yet it was enough for my legs to tremble and my core to grow heavy with desire. How the fuck was he doing this to me?

A sigh from Ushijima broke my train of jumbled thoughts, bringing me back into the hellish scene.

His breath fanned over the supple skin of my inner thigh, the heat inducing tremors to rake through my limbs.

“Aw, I’m making a mess, “ Ushijima sighed. “Oh well.”

He drew himself back from me, fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt. He plucked his shirt open one button at a time, stopping just midway of his chest.

I closed my legs, allowing him to tug my soaked pink pantiesf rom beneath me and off somewhere in the room. Ushijima returned to his post between my thighs—prying my legs apart for him to fill once again. His heavy arms curled around my thighs, his cheek nuzzled against the plumped skin.

My face swelled with heat as he continued his marvels, his hand cupping my cunt. His thick fingers settled against my lips, spreading the fat supple mounds apart for him to see.

“Oh, Y/N…” He mumbled, pulling my hips closer to his awaiting tongue.

A scattered sigh tore out from Ushijima’s mouth, tickling my bare pussy with its heat.

His heavy eyes were pinned to the raw sight he created of my pussy. I watched as his sights flickered over the scene, enticing his teeth to digging into his bottom lip. Determination painted his face with its fierce hues that it even fanned over to me. I’ve never had a man look at my cunt with such passion. It was enough for me to even succumb to the heat of it all.

“Mm, fuck. Just lemme…” Ushijima trailed off mindlessly.

Before he could even finish his thought, his lips were already busy with peppering kisses along my dewed folds. Kisses that were wet, sloppy and kiss carried the sweet, lewd cries of Ushijima coaxing my clit to join in his dance for two.

It’s filthy the way Ushijima works at my clit—his tongue lolls about my clit lazily, leaving glimmering soapy trails of spit to drip past my folds.

Every lash he delivers is a thoughtful one; the warm, soft flat of his tongue dragging against the puffy pearl, the sticky mess he’d made out of my clit clinging to the grooves of his tongue.

His lips are like velvet, left plump by the kisses we’d given on each just moments before. And to have those same luscious lips envelope my clit into a world that was nothing short of dizzying.

Just the thought of his ministrations alone left my clit spry, the bundle of nerves twitching within the confines of Ushijima’s sloppy mouth. He busied himself with a soporific rhythm, suckling at the rathe bud just for kicks.

Ushijima peered at me through dilated pupils, those olive hues flickering all about my face. I couldn’t imagine the sight he had of me being committed to memory: puffy lips spilling with drool, close eyes screwed shut, and crude, whimsical curses ripping from my mouth.

“Mmhm, talk to me, Angel. feels good?”

“Mm, yesyesyes! Oh fuck, just like that Ushijima!” my voice weakly keened.

Awe glistened in my eyes as I watched him, mindlessly chasing an orgasm for my body to revel in. Yet, my drowsy lids were pinned to his jaw, bearing the weight of his hunger. Something came over me, a sense of adoration. So, I reached out to cup his jaw, grazing along what worked so hard to pull an orgasm out of me.

My thumb settled along the highs of his cheek, stroking at his flustered skin. He’s doing such a good job on my behalf, how couldn’t I thank him?

“Oh, that’s it. Y’re doing a good job, Ushijima,” I praised, sharing a weak grin.

“Oh, I’m not done with you yet, pretty girl,” he chuckled softly.

In place of his lips, Ushijima brought a single digit nip at my entrance. He drew lazy circles around my slit, prepping me for what’s to come.

He’s gentle, easing barely half an inch of his digit inside. My walls grew lax for Ushijima, sucking his long thick fingers to fill my pussy.

He made me so sensitive that just off that, I was whimpering out babbles to fall on no one’s ears in particular. Yet Ushijima still took heed to be kind with me.

“Shhh, just take me, baby. ‘m gonna go as slow as you want me to,” he assured.

I didn’t feel his hand move from my thigh, but it did, reaching out for my own. Through my drunken senses, I managed to welcome his hand into mine, our fingers folding over one another.

Bit by bit, Ushijima’s finger filled my gummy walls. He really was gentle, moving when my walls were lax and willing. He drove his finger to the hilt, only to slowly pull his digit back.

“Oh…fuckkk…s’ pretty,” he slurred, passing a glance back towards me.

“Tell me where you want me.”

“Just curl your finger up--- oooh fuck!” I mewled, tossing my head back against the couch.

My hands followed suit, splitting away from Ushijima to grip along the couch’s frame behind my head. When I had Ushijima in my sights again, it wasn’t without a smug grin crowding his visage.

“So…is it here?” Ushijima asked, the pad of his digit lightly pulsing at my sweet spot.

“Mhm, right there. Just keep doing that.”

“Aww, Y/N, you shouldn’t have told me that—‘m gonna have fun with you now.”

Ushijima snickered as he returned to my clit, inviting the perked bud to melt over his tongue all over again. I trembled at the combined notions, sending an arch to overwhelm my spine.

“W-Wait, Ushi–That’s too much, ‘m already so close!”

Ushijima merely nodded, my words essentially falling onto deaf ears. Electricity licked all throughout my body, sending twitches to rattle my weak legs. I couldn’t take it, Ushijima’s finger toying with my sweet spot, he was setting me on course for the high of my life.

“W-Wakatoshi! Toshi–fuck, ‘m cumming!” I cried, my lungs grasping for what air could enter.

Ushijima’s finger plugged itself at my core, bringing a seizing crash to break over my body. Every ounce of me held firm, shivering to bear the weight of my chased high. My hips waved against the pad of his digit, riding out the end of my ecstasy off whatever friction would be found.

Ushijima withdrew his finger from my cunt, leaving my poor hold bare and gaping for something else to fill me. He brought that sullied digit straight to his mouth , sucking my honey off his fingers as he gleamed over me. Sporadic breaths chimed through the sex-stained air, my chest buckling to keep up with me.

“That’s a good girl,” Ushijima cooed. “Cumming so hard for me. Look at what you did to me.”

Ushijima stood from my legs, his hand racing to grip at his crotch. And he was right—his pants were strained thanks to his bulge, the fabric just barely holding itself together. But what caught my attention was the bubbly mess of precum foaming through his slacks.

“Didn’t even touch me and you made me cum, should be proud,” he chuckled.”But that’s fine, we’re even…for now.”

“And what does that mean?” I asked, shifting myself to lay along the couch.

“Let’s find out what I mean together.”

Ushijima quickly stripped himself of his clothes coaxing me to strip of whatever clothing was left on me as well. As he removed his clothing, my eyes hinged on his bare body—taut muscles highlighted his towering frame. He’s ribbed with strength chiseled to suit his build.

A thick trail of faint brown hair from his belly button guided down to the sight resting between his legs. He’s big, cock so heavy with lust that it needed no help to rise on its own. His cock was topped by a thick, fat reddened bulb, dribbling with glossy tears. His length was tanned, adorned with veins from the poor pressure building at his core. I watched as Ushijima settled himself between my legs, his dick slapping down against my tummy.

"See? Look how deep I'm gonna go," he smirked, his hand gripped at the base of his cock.

I laid my head on the couch’s armrest, lying in wait for Ushijima's next move.

Ushijima placed his painfully hard cock to lay within my folds, my clit smothered beneath the weight.

“I’m gonna go slow, okay?"

I nodded as I peered down to watch Ushijima nudged at my hole with the head of his cock, slowly prying my slit to greet his girth.

“Fuh—pretty pussy’s taking me in already. Griping me s’ fucking tight,” Ushijima seethed, his hands griping along the couch’s cushions.

My walls supplied Ushijima’s cock with gushing kisses, fluttering about his throbbing length. He kept working to bury himself to the hilt, dipping his hips to engulf my senses with nothing but him—his scent, his ardor, his fat bulbous heat fixated on digging out my cunt.

“Y’re so big, Toshi! Fuck, go deeper!”

“Nuh uh, “Ushijima tutted as his eyes came to a screwed shut. “Don’t be so greedy, Baby. I got you, just…—shit—feel me, okay? His honeyed voice whimpered.

I nodded softly, watching as Ushijima’s hips finally granted my wish. I couldn’t help but squeeze him in place, my walls fluttering around him. He was just so huge, filling out every inch of my pussy like it was nothing. My lashes grew heavy from the bubbling sear of tears lining my eyes. This pain—an intoxicating stretch sent me down a spiral of, being so full like this by Ushijima was something I was enthralled by the feeling of being so full and stretched around him.

Ushijima took notice too as he looked down at the unfolding scene.

“Aw look, you took every inch! ‘m s-so…proud of you,” Ushijima huffed out.

He leaned over me, pressing his chest flush against my own, resting his forehead within the crook of my neck. He brought his world crashing into mine, the heat of our bodies melding into one. I could even sense his heartbeat, thumping a languid aria into my skin. All I wanted to do was hold him, to have this moment last for as long as we could. But considering the throbbing mess he’d been reduced to, lust reigned over all other senses.

“I’m gonna start moving,” Ushijima mumbled into my dewed skin. “Just…talk to me, Princess. Just wanna see that face when you cum for me again…so fuckin’ bad.”

He reeled his hips back weakly, striping my walls of the salacious fill of him. He drew himself just enough to have the tip just barely slipping from out of me, only for him to stuff every inch of him to the hilt.

“T-Toshi! Ohmygosh!” I squealed, sending my hands to brace along the thick of his forearms.

“I-I know. ‘m sorry! H-Here, gonna kiss it all better,” Ushijima groaned, his lips sloppily crashing into mine.

Through all this, Ushijima’s hips rocked gently, working a cadence just for me. Slow yet deep allowed the red, weeping bulb of his cock to chip away at my need for dominance. Each reel of his cock enticed my walls to ease in his care, granting him to move that much quicker.

And within those passing moments, the quiet squelches erupted into the lewd cymbals of clashing skin breaking into the air. Ushijima drove his cock to the hilt with ease.

The same fate befell him, his quiet and restrained grunts now morphed into quivering sobs. His lips now dressed a heavy pout, dripping with his spit and carrying his weary words.

“Keep squeezing like that ‘nd I’m gonna cum."

“M-Me too, Toshi! I’m so close!”

I perched myself onto my elbows, urgent to close the valley left to exist between our two worked bodies.

Not a word had to fall from my lawless tongue for Ushijima to soothe my wants. He leaned in, hunching over to blur our worlds into one. His hand snaked around to brace the nape of my neck, bestowing a gentle grip over me just to keep me close. He pressed his forehead flush against my own, beads of sweat dotting my skin.

Our lips remained poised in the heat of our budding passion, catching every whimsical babble we had to each other..

I couldn’t resist smothering him in a kiss, lazily catching every moan to ring from his chest. He was working so hard on my behalf, driving himself mad, sweaty, and depleted just to please me—oh, how lucky was I?

He broke away from our messy kiss, muttering some mantra that seemed to grasp his concern more.

He retreated back onto his haunches, pinning his sights on the messy canvas he’d made of my cunt. His thumb, the pad of his digit etching loose loops over the cherried pearl.

I reached out to brace his wrist, pulling his hand to lay atop my tummy.

“Nuh uh, don’t wanna cum like that. J-just keep—fuck! Please don’t stop!” I sobbed, rolling my ensnared hips to match Ushijima’s tempo.

“Aww cumming already? Better make a mess or else I'm not stopping til you do.”

“Ooo-oh fuck, I-I can make a mess! Just fr’ you.”

From that pledge Ushijima and I made, a fever dream broke out over the room. A dream fueled by sinful fervor that claimed any sense Ushijima and I had down to nothing. All we had on the brain was each other, doing our own part helping each meet our peaks.

As for me, he’s rendered me dumb and drunk over his cock, feeding my sweet spot with his deliciously thick girth. Dumb hiccuping babbles were all I could muster. My plushy walls were consumed by a familiar flutter, my inevitable high teetering on the edge.

“ToshiToshi, right there! I’m gonna—!" The word trapped itself within my throat, only to be replaced by a blubbering whimper.

A spell of heat licked at every nerve in my body. My eyes were sent rolling into the back of my head as my overwhelmed body coaxed my poor ruined cunt to weep, a burst of tears gushing over Ushijima’s flexed abdomen.

“Good fucking girl, making a mess just like I asked. I wanna—fuck!—'m wanna cum with you too!”

The peak of my high left me just barely conscious, my eyes heavy with the sudden heft of fatigue. Through the thick gathering of my lashes, I gawked at Ushijima, his own nirvana finally crashing down around him.

“Oh—‘m cumming! Y/N, I'm gonna cum!”

Ushijima trembled as his rutting hips came to a stuttering halt. He frantically ripped himself from inside of me, the roused nerves of his cock sent into a twitching frenzy. Nuzzling the bulbous head along my inner thigh, the warm tears of white painted skin, followed by a clogged groan pouring from Ushijima’s gaping mouth.

He collapsed on top of me, his lungs desperately heaving for air. I laced my arms around him, taking my digits through his unkempt hair as he came down.

“Shhh, it’s okay, I got you. Just relax,” I hummed softly.

Ushijima and I lay on that couch for a while longer, neither of us ready to move. As I combed through his hair, he kept a hand on my stomach, tapping away at some tempo to soothe himself. Just a quiet, peaceful reflection of the practices he and I had done.

He was right, I don't think I'll need another lover after that. My legs were practically useless, my throat sore, and my body was still reeling from the temors of my high. Even Ushijima still shivered from time to time. That moment was something straight out of a movie, calm, quiet, and filled with a growing fondness.

To my surprise, Ushijima was the first to break the silence with a question.

“So about our date, what time works—“

“Oh! You were serious about that?!”

Ushijima nodded, “Well…yes. I know it was an exercise but I really wanted to take you out somewhere nice. And I actually do know a place around here with a huge wine cellar.”

My head fell into a tilt as I studied Ushijima for a second. He’s back to his regular “stoic” self but this time every feature in his face was softened—his brows, his lips, his eyes; all carried a bout of sincerity. I simply had no heart to deny him, especially now knowing what kind of man he was in the face of rapture.

“Y’know what, Ushijima,” I purred as my hand reached to cup his cheek.

“I’d like that.”

TAGS: @po3ticb3auty @dabilovesme @ebiharachan @kenmasbimbo @pixelsanji @slaughterakira @woahhajime @pulchritxde-blog @hannas16 @champagnej @shuxjodie @just-yer-average-key @bontensbabygirl @tojitsukaisen @serenareiss @dejwrld @screampied @omniuravity @sweeneyblue1 @yukihime-mikeys-girl @kazusugar @missyasma @simpliheavenli @desiray562 @sleepilysworld @lovemegood @luvrdrop @nuttyunknowndetective-blog @tojibreedingme @widepipepaladiknight @nekoriots @rainycami @tonaken @holychocopie @bloobrryktty @hon3ybee-3 @dabis0bitch @your-next-daydream @mx-luvzz @akiko0-0 @whore02 @tojianddabisslut @dana-fite @downtownbabya @littlemochi @prettiestjade @luvvvjada @keijimilk

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thenightling · 2 days

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Dead boy Detectives review

I've watched all eight episodes of Dead Boy Detectives and it was a decent show. It's not something I may obsess over like The Sandman, or The Witcher, but it was decent.

Dead Boy Detectives is the story of Edwin Payne and Charles Rowland. Edwin was killed during a Satanic ritual in 1916. Charles died from hypothermia and internal bleeding after some bullies drove him into an ice-cold lake while throwing rocks at him.

(Note: That was not how Charles actually died in the source material. In the comics, Lucifer had quit and shut down Hell (the basis for the TV show Lucifer) so many evil souls returned to Earth, including the boys that sacrificed poor Edwin. They badly burnt Charles' back on a hot stove and Charles died from his injuries.)

The two ghosts decided to dedicate their afterlife solving mysteries to help other ghosts find peace. They are aided by psychic, Crystal Palace, who is haunted by her abusive ex-boyfriend who happens to be a demon.

Both Edwin Payne and Charles Rowland originated in Neil Gaiman's The Sandman: Season of Mists, The Sandman: Volume 4. Issue 25 of The Sandman comics, and within Act 2 of The Sandman audio drama.

The Dead Boy Detectives made their TV first appearance in Doom Patrol for HBO Max (now Max). During a shakeup at Max the show was moved over to Netflix as to better connect it with The Sandman since that is where they originated.

The show features different actors from the ones that played Charles and Edwin on Doom Patrol.

The Dead Boy Detectives is a decent show but ...it feels a bit like a CW teen drama. I had been told that some of the show's writers were originally writers for the CW... and it shows.

There are some deliberately surreal elements of the show that I think are a callback to their appearance in Doom Patrol.

I love the variety of supernatural entities in the show, including the appearance of two of Morpheus's siblings. Death and Despair. The things I don't like about the show can be considered CW tropes or cliches. The angsty romances and unrequited love. The ham-fisted abusive ex metaphor between Crystal and David The Demon.

And of course the most tedious of CW tropes, the end of the episode pining and angst while a sad pop song plays in the background.

If you look past the CW-ness of it, the show is enjoyable.

The only other things I can complain about is the "connecting thread" subplot of The Afterlife: Lost and Found feels like unnecessary filler. And I wish they would openly establish that Edwin, being an innocent, would NOT return to Hell if collected by Death now. I don't think that should be left hanging over his head. Especially since we're supposed to see Death as a kind entity. Also I think Charles says "Aces" a little too much. It's very distracting and makes me feel like the writers didn't know much late 80s English slang. It would be like if he was an American and they had him say "Radical" all the time. I get that it's kind of his catchphrase but it also got a bit annoying.

The parts I don't like are CW tropes and what I'd consider to be late 90s Vertigo edginess.

The thing I liked were plentiful though. The protagonists were and are likable. The ending is satisfying enough so that if there is only one season this was still good. I liked that it appears that one can ascend out of Hell after some self-reflection as is indicated by the boy Edwin confronted in Hell. The blue light was established to mean ascension, a good afterlife.

I also LOVE the opening credits theme music and animated sequence. It reminds me of the intro to Showtime's Creature Feature movies. (See the trailer for 2001's She Creature, not the 50s version. Watch the trailer at thirteen seconds in, on Youtube, and you'll see what I mean).

That's two Gothic themed shows from Netflix in the last two years with great opening credits sequences. The first being Wednesday. That one won Danny Elfman an Emmy.

It's funny, Wednesday and Dead Boy Detectives (which is a spin-off of The Sandman) have great opening credit intro sequences but The Sandman does not. Apparently Neil Gaiman was told people don't watch the opening credits anymore so The Sandman doesn't have them.

I feel we were cheated out of what could have been a great opening sequence for The Sandman.

Episodes 7 and 8 of Dead Boy Detectives were probably the best of the series. I liked it well enough that if Dead Boy Detectives gets renewed I'll happily watch season 2.

#Dead Boy Detectives #The Dead Boy Detectives #The Sandman #Sandman

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ronintales · 1 day

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ೃ₊ 🌾 ❝ So When I Die ❞ ╰►, Gojo Satoru

𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒 | following gojo satoru’s death, his ex wife is in charge of taking care of his funeral service and everything else that comes with it.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 | 4,676 words

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | character death, possible spoilers, funeral, angst, and not proofread ;p

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 | I did NAWT want this to be my first work on here but due to certain circumstances…. AHEM his DEATH!!!! I felt it was necessary because laik… grief LOL. I wrote this a while back tho. Enjoy.

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ♡ ༘° 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒓, gojo satoru …

Your ex-husband is dead, and in his line of work, yes, you know that he has a higher risk of dying than the average person, but still, death never comes expected, does it? Even if he always says—oh wait… used to, you suppose, say that he was crazy strong and no one could ever take him down. Well, he was wrong in the end like a bunch of other things. Like how well he took care of you, how he’d give you six kids, how—you won’t ramble, noting he’s dead now and there’s no point, but also because it’s quite rude of you to talk down on someone who is dead and can’t defend themselves. Whatever.

You just… don’t expect it. Yes, you understood he was hard headed and insanely cocky, but in a way… you always believed that he would always come home alive and, even if he did get hurt, he would be okay eventually as he heals. You don’t forget it, he’s only human, you know because of the many mistakes he’s made, but still… he’s… he’s gone?

You hesitated when you heard that. Gojo Satoru, the so-called love of your life from two years ago, is dead? Impossible, you think. Gojo Satoru found death embarrassing, with all the things he said. He said that he would be okay. He was always okay. What are you supposed to say to that?

When you get the call, you wonder why you, of all the people in his life, were the one they called to inform about his status. Why did you have to go to his place and clean out all his things? Take all his belongings with you? At first, your instinct was to say “throw it all away,” because what does Gojo Satoru mean to you now? You’re not his wife! He neglected you for years and filled your days and nights with sorrows. He broke your heart. But still, he didn’t mean nothing to you at the same time.

Those precious years of being his acquaintance in middle school. When you had shorter hair and he didn’t know much about you other than you were in his class and he had bought you cute white socks for your class gift exchange on Christmas that year. The long years that Gojo Satoru pined for you after you both attended the same high school. The hard and dark times he went through losing Suguru and shutting you out, though he loved you for so long. When you turned twenty, and Satoru had gotten better, to the point where he felt he was ready to move on and continue with his pursuit for you. When you turned twenty-three, and got married to him on a spur. When you moved in and shared a bed, until the marriage got cold and most nights you spent alone.

You couldn’t say for the past fourteen years, Gojo Satoru was nothing at all to you. The news was shocking, and knowing he was dead… did you have to be careful about how you felt about him, or how you thought of him? Well, now that he is dead, should you be so ruthless and hostile toward the man who broke your heart? You don’t know, so naturally, and it really just slips out, you agree to take care of the process of his passing.

For the most part, you’re calm. You don’t actually know how to feel, and you don’t know how to be. You’re not his wife, you have no obligations to take care of him, or anything that he cared about. Yet, you’re here. In his lonely apartment that doesn’t even smell like him. He probably never even spent much time in this place, even so, he still had a lot of belongings. Pictures of you in frames surprisingly. He did take them all when you got divorced and he moved out of the house, you just didn’t expect that he’d put them up on display. He probably didn’t get many visitors to question him about the lady in his pictures. You were sure that would get annoying.

Anyway, you don’t know if you’re supposed to cry or even feel sad. You don’t know if it’s strange to feel that way or not. You can’t quite make out how you feel, being surrounded by Gojo Satoru’s personality and things. You don’t think too much about the things inside the apartment because you don’t want to be too reminded of what you used to be. What you felt about the man once upon a time. If there was still love in your heart for him.

Gojo Satoru wasn’t a slob, but he wasn’t clean either by any means. Given he probably didn’t stay here much, it made sense that you didn’t need to clean a whole lot of the apartment. You get there and you take it all in. Satoru’s little apartment, because he didn’t want to pay for such a luxurious place he wouldn’t even stay in. Maybe that kind of place made him feel more alone too. Thoughts you should not be thinking start to trickle into your brain, but you stop yourself. You shouldn’t feel bad for leaving, nor should you want to go back. You made a decision to leave and you should honor it. It was the right thing to do for yourself (hopefully).

Do you even want his things? No, not really. But you have a keep, donate, and a throw away bin anyway. Most of it keeps going to the keep bin and donation box. Somehow the feeling of someone else getting Gojo Satoru’s things is unsettling to you, but it’s even worse to think that all these things will just go to a landfill where things that were once valued are forgotten and it’s all going to be considered “trash.” Maybe that’s because you know why every item is there and the story behind that certain mug or decor piece. You don’t know it, but you’re trying your best not to care.

You sigh, the thought that this is all so strange, bothering and pestering you like an annoying fly. You tell yourself you know that already, so stop thinking about it. Maybe you’re in denial that Gojo Satoru is actually gone. You can feel him. He’s still there, you know it. That or you’re just surrounded by his belongings and that’s why his presence is here.

In your hand, you hold a big black garbage bag as you make your way to his bedroom to clear out his closet. This is a room of his that you haven’t been to, strange right? You wondered if another woman spent time here. Jealous much? You’re supposed to be clearing out your ex-husband’s apartment, not pondering about what he was up to after you two had split. The man is dead for one, what are you going to do about it? Confront his dead body? You shouldn’t be thinking about things like that, so that thought is one you shake off and ignore too.

You sigh because you’re tired from cleaning all day and clearing his things out and you’re probably only a quarter’s way done with the place. It’s not even that big, it’s just been uncomfortably hard for you to bring yourself here with your mixed and strange feelings about this whole situation. Isn’t there anyone else who cares about Gojo Satoru? How come you’re stepping up to the plate when this is how you feel—confused and unsure? What are you even going to do for the funeral? You took the task up because Gojo Satoru would probably turn in his grave knowing the higher ups organized his funeral. So while it is strange for you to do all of this, you’ve rationalized the lot of this situation that you put yourself in. Once upon a time, he loved you right? So surely he would prefer you over—you’re so silly, thinking all these things when Gojo Satoru is your dead ex-husband.

You plop on the bed with a small groan as you turn over. This is a bit inappropriate, to be laying on your ex husband’s unmade bed. It’s left in the state that it was the last time he woke up. That’s a little precious you think, freely, not even denying it. Are you ruining this precious thing here? Well, in all honesty, you’re kind of cherishing it, because this is a small piece of Satoru that is really still here in the present times. He always liked soft things and this blanket is soft. The sheets still smell like your ex-husband. The light musk of his skin and his soap is there. The thought of this bed being his is comfortable enough. Like you miss his warmth and touch, you curl up on the mattress, hugging yourself to the scent of him surrounding, and you can almost imagine that he’s holding you right now, like he used to. His detergent is faintly there too, well actually, it’s the same as yours. He asked when you two had split and he was settling into his own place all the household items you used. You supposed that it was all he knew.

You offered to go shop for household things with him and it was probably the last time you two had exchanged any kind of affection. You let him put his hand on your thigh as he drove you two to the supermarket. He let you link your arm with his, sides flush together like you two didn’t just get divorced. It was a silent message of “I miss you,” because it was and—quite frankly, still is—hard to get over someone you loved for so long. Even if he left the marriage long before you did, emotionally and physically. This was something you wanted while you married, for Satoru to present, and in your arms. For him to show you that he cared and loved you. You were even a little upset that was the only time he was doing all of that for you, but you chose not to ruin the moment for the both of you.

Funny how all these memories and things between the two of you are flooding in constantly. It makes you feel kind of sick. Nauseous and unable to breathe. You open your eyes in realization of what you’re doing right now. You sit up immediately, flustered and embarrassed as if Satoru would open the door right now and have that annoying smug grin on his face with his arms crossed, just to say as he leans on the door frame, “I knew you missed me.” Following with your name because he liked your name the best. He always said your name was pretty and he wouldn’t give you a pet name because nothing will ever be as great as calling you by your name. A nice little reminder that Satoru loved your name makes you smile a bit. Weird how all of these just keep piling up. One thought triggers another and it almost makes you itch and feel bad for the way things ended between the two of you. You almost have regrets about—

Whatever, you have a deadline to clean this place up you remind yourself. You spread your palms out on the sheets once more, feeling every thread that Satoru once laid his body on. You should take these for your bed, you think. They’re not so bad, just a plain white sheet, but it reminds you of Satoru’s hair and it would be waste.You lift yourself from the bed and open his closet, not even noticing how you keep having to make excuses for yourself to keep some of his things.

Already feeling overwhelmed because you keep holding back, opening the closet makes you feel like you’re cracking. You let out a suppressed sound. You can’t even register what it sounds like. A squeak or something? But looking at all his clothes almost makes everything so real for you. All his uniform? All his coats and sweaters? Ah, the one from high school. And then you can see all the ones you bought him. Damn, does that really test your strength.

Lined up neatly and nicely put away, it’s almost a shame to you to give these away. Your hand shakes as you hesitantly reach for one of his favorite button ups. Your skin meets the soft fabric and you only lightly touch it because you don’t want to wrinkle it. You remember when you used to iron Satoru’s clothes early in the morning before he woke up. Even until the end of your marriage, you still ironed them.

You look up, reaching for his work uniform. This is what he wore most often, you know that. So you let yourself crumble. Carefully taking off the hanger and sitting on his bed as you hold the shirt close to you. You bring it to your nose, just to smell it. You wish it smelled like Satoru more, but even so, it makes you break down.

Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as you take another sniff. The thought that Satoru really isn’t here anymore makes your heartbreak. It comes crashing down on you. You really miss him, and you regret that you didn’t spend as much time as you would have liked to with him. You wish you could have had the courage to tell him how much you still cared and loved him. Yes, it might not have been the same kind of love you had for him before, but you did still love him.

You let out a little sob. In frustration and despair, tears flow out as you hold his clothes close to you. The walls of your bruised heart collapses as you hold his clothes so tight as if he was still in them. Well, you really do wish he was. You’re desperate to feel him in your arms physically. Just a moment with him so you could say your last sentiments. Just a moment to see him again. Just a moment to love him.

You’re helpless as your tears flow endlessly onto his shirt. You feel silly, but you just can’t stop. You really miss Satoru, and you have been for so many months now. You stroke the shirt as you would his body, wallowing in the grief you’re supposed to feel, even if the dead man is your ex-husband. You spent so many years loving him, how could you just not feel anything to hear news of his death? How could you not feel any regret or remorse for how messy you left things with him? There’s so many things you want to say to him, and it kills you to know you will never get to say any of it to him.

You wonder if Satoru was still around, would he wrap his arms around you and tell you not to cry? Would he kiss your temple like he always did when you were down? You wish he would just do all of it. You wish you two could have tried harder. Your love for him never burned out, you know that much. It’s the reason why you’re here, alone in his room crying as you hold his clothes dearly to you. And even if you hate to say it, even if you don’t want to admit it, Satoru loved you until the very end too.

“I’m still in love with you y’know…”

“Shut up,” You mutter as you slide the eggs off the pan for the hungry man at the table.

It was the dead hours of the night when he returned from a mission, knocking on your door, telling you that he was hungry and needed a place to crash.You slammed the door on him of course, but he wedged his foot in the gap of the door (no, it didn’t hurt, he’s got magical powers that prevent him from actually getting hurt like damn maniac) and used his own strength against you to push his upper body through the door to beg you to let him stay. It was a mistake on your part, but it actually wasn’t all that terrible that night. You were just bitter.

“My bad,” Satoru said dramatically as he took a bite. “Just thought you missed me. That’s the reason you let me in, right?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, not in the mood for any of his games. His smug grin made everything even worse, because he was right. “Gojo Satoru, wipe that grin off your face.”

“Must have hit a nerve,” He teased like it was still appropriate to do so.

You actually don’t even remember what you said then after that, but you just know… Gojo Satoru has you all figured out yet… he never said anything about it to you. And that was just him. He knew well enough not to break your heart one more time, but he was selfish enough to constantly flirt with you any time he could. If he passed by, or was coming home late from a mission and knocking on your door to remind you that he existed. Not anymore.

After cleaning his apartment, it’s all empty now. Which is a little strange. You’ve never even been to his place until after he died, and yet… it makes your stomach turn and feel upset after realizing that this place is no longer where your ex-lover resides. You understand that he’s no longer occupying it. There’s no point in keeping it for him. But maybe because you don’t think it through while you’re still in the grieving process. You don’t think about Gojo Satoru being dead because you don’t want to. It makes your heart squeeze and your breath stop. You can’t face the fact that he no longer exists and you can no longer see him anymore. You just can’t, so you wonder: where will his home be? Who's going to take care of him? Where is he going to go to shelter himself from the rain or snow? Where is he going to sleep? Where can he feel safe and secure?

You sigh, rubbing your eyes. You really need to get some proper rest. You feel yourself withering in the bitter feelings you still have toward Satoru, but also the dangerous sorrow that’s sinking your whole body down. You can’t believe that you really miss Gojo Satoru after all this time hating him and wishing you two had never met when he was here and alive, waiting for you to just cave into what your heart wanted. Truth is though, you never would. You were too strong for that.

Finally, you pack up the final things, leaving absolutely nothing behind. Satoru isn’t here anymore, and it looks exactly like that. This little corner of the world isn’t his anymore, and you’d like to say that it never was because he didn’t spend much of his time in this place. It’s just sad to see it all gone, stripped to the bare white box it actually is without the fun of your late ex-husband. You shut the door, leaving this place behind and bringing this part of Satoru with you, maybe the only part of Satoru that is still worldly and able for you to have in your grasp. You leave the key to his apartment on the landlord’s desk and leave with the rest of Satoru’s things in your arms, all thrown in the cardboard box labeled “Satoru” in your handwriting with a permanent marker. Silly of you to not even realize it, Gojo Satoru’s home is not a place, it’s you.

The end of it was the funeral process. Which was much more work than cleaning his apartment. You wish somebody was worried about your well-being, but that somebody, the most likely candidate, was dead. Satoru would have told you to chill out a bit and ask you to wind down with him, but this is his funeral, he can’t really do that now, can he? But you don’t want to seem like you’re so reliant on him. You’ve done plenty of things without him, and this will be no exception. He just… sort of made the process easier and bearable. You’re on your 10th phone call with the carpenters of the coffin when you really wish you didn’t take on the task of carrying out Satoru’s dying wishes. He didn’t even have many, because he was so sure he wasn’t going to die so soon.

Through it all, you hold yourself together quite elegantly. Even through the eulogy. No one would even guess the mental strain you put yourself through to make this all happen. All the floral arrangements are beautiful, Satoru’s corpse is dressed nicely—though you grace him with a closed casket funeral because you were sure that he did not want anyone to see him so vulnerably lifeless and you simply could not handle the sight of his stale and unresponsive body. But everyone could indeed tell, Gojo Satoru was loved. They could understand your love for the man. You wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t love him. But you just deny it.

His guest list was quite large. Some people you didn't even know, and you were sure he did not want that. But the higher ups had their own agenda too, and you had to make compromises though you stood your ground quite well for the sake of your late ex-husband's well being in the afterlife. You wonder, would Satoru love you for eternity for loving and caring for him unconditionally and so thoroughly? When you eventually join him, will he thank you for so meticulously planning and giving him a proper send off? You hope so. You hope that he will continue to love you in the next lifetime, and in that lifetime, you two will be happily together. Not miserably apart like you are now.

Maybe the only time anyone can see you break is when the casket is lowered and this is the last time that you’ll ever see Satoru’s face again, except you don’t. His casket is closed and covered with all the flowers you bought to send him off beautifully. There’s a complex look on your face, and no one could quite read it, but it was clear that there was a storm going on inside of you, stirring and rumbling. Your eyebrows knitted together and your eyes glossy with a down turn of your lips. You’re just keeping yourself together for Satoru. You need to.

The only time you get to break down about it is when you get home from the long day. Crumbling down your door, as you miserably sob. How could the world be so possibly cruel that you had to bury the last man you loved for the past ten years? It never gave you time to move on. You weren’t ready to let go just yet and be content with the distance. Sure, you asked for it when he was still tangible, but now he was untouchable, not existing, and it felt so painful. You curl up in a ball, on the bed you used to share with him. The bed you two used to gossip on and the bed where you simply just held him to sleep on your good days. The bed that you laid alone for most nights wishing he’d come to hold you and not be too tired for you. All the bad and good memories come to make you think of one thing; you wish Satoru was here right now.

You lay there, contemplating if you just want to stay there for the whole week or get up and cook yourself something. You haven’t been eating with how hectic it’s been to take care of Satoru’s send off. You sigh, closing your eyes. Sleep sounds like the best thing to you at the moment. You were drained and exhausted from preserving the life of Gojo Satoru as well as commemorating it. You needed that rest.

When you drift into sleep, you kind of hope that Satoru is there for you, waiting in a field of beautiful flowers like he came to visit you in a dream. Even if it’s just your imagination. You’d like to think that he cared enough that he left you alone to deal with all of the things he left behind. He doesn’t though, because you don’t dream. You just black out and you wonder if you’ll ever dream again. But maybe you’re just being dramatic because you miss your ex-husband so much. You blink the tears out from your eyes, wiping them before getting up and pulling yourself together. You can be sad, but not miserable. You were never the type to just crumble, however, even this shook you down to the very ground and yes, it is hard to get back up. But everything with Satoru was hard, and this was no different. You should have been used to this.

Eventually, you do get yourself together. Sad, but you’re functioning. You go back to work and you continue with your daily life. Satoru’s never really been a part of your daily routine after the 3rd year of being married to him. It was no different not seeing him at all, but it was just the fact that he truly wasn't there anymore. If you were to call his cell, it would just ring on your dresser in your room and go to voicemail. Sometimes, you wait for the voicemail just to hear his voice, but most times you stay away from his contact. You’re recovering, just slowly.

People at work send their condolences, just like they did when they found out you divorced Gojo Satoru. They give you a pitiful look and tell you to be strong, but when they think you’re not listening they bash Satoru for passing and still putting the responsibility of carrying his will out on his ex wife—you. You don’t defend him nor does what they say settle well with you. They’re right, of course. Gojo Satoru has always been selfish, up until his last breath, but you just can’t seem to feel validated when you’re the one who buried Gojo Satoru. He was once your whole world, how could you just completely numb yourself to the pain of losing your connection with him, absolutely and completely?

Apparently, you’re the only person on his will too. You inherit everything of his one day, and it’s kind of overwhelming. All of his money is transferred to your bank account, all his belongings, everything is yours. You don’t even know what to do with most of it. You don’t even want to look and use anything of his. So you store most of his things in a box and label it “Satoru,” along with the other things that you took from his apartment, and you make an account to store all his money in, for what? You don’t know, just something.

When you're older, you’ll come to realize that you made Satoru a loved person until the very end, and that you were perhaps the only person that he still had love for, even if you weren’t his wife anymore. This is why Satoru loved you so much, and yes, he got very lucky with you, you will give yourself that. But you also won’t feel so bitter about having to be the person to handle his departure because you made sure to do just the way he wanted it, by you. for now, you’ll miss him lots and bring him flowers whenever the time comes. You won’t call him your ex-husband, but your late-husband. You keep some of his clothes to wear like you used to. You still sleep on your side of the bed, leaving the space Satoru used to fill empty for him. Life goes on the way it used to.

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tyttamarzh · 3 days

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Tallulah is Phil and Missa's daughter.

This will probably be very long, so if you want to read it, go grab some popcorn and get comfortable.

I have to talk about this because it's eating me up inside. I think I shouldn't give so much importance to comments coming from sewers like Twitter and much less Tiktok, but it makes me so sick (and I'm such a masochist that I even spend time looking for the shit they say to make me angrier and debate them xD).

I am very happy that it was finally made official, with papers certified by the federation, that Tallulah is the daughter of Philza and Missa, I think that was not entirely necessary for them, because they had assumed it for a long time (let's assume that Tallulah needed the pappers to end her W arc), although I suppose that more than anything it was done for those people who still cannot accept it or who deny the paternity of Phil and Missa (With Missa, although it bothers me, I can even understand it, he He hasn't been as present and many people don't know him, but god, it would be a crime to deny Tallulah's paternity to Phil, the man who has kept her alive and given everything for her throughout her life).

I'm glad that, although I have seen negative comments, the majority have been positive (even if it hurts them, it doesn't matter, it's official, screw them). Mainly, the negative comments have been from defenders of W and their arguments are so poor and weak that they are easily refuted. It is obvious that these people do not know Tallulah and have never met her, many do not even know how things turned out and say nonsense like that the current Llulah is an imposter, that it is not fair that they "rewrote" history and erased W (which It is false, Llulah's words make it clear that history was never changed, she simply moved on and that person remained in the past).

I refuted all those arguments on Twitter but screw Twitter, I hate the fucking character limit. So I'm going to expand (I have a lot of poison to get out of my skin). I have some points:

1- "That's not Tallulah" Of course it is her, those who witnessed her life and her growth during the year that passed, can realize that this was her natural evolution. She is the same girl who grew up overcoming her limitations, who suffered, who felt alone, who had abandonment problems, who everyone saw as a poor abandoned girl and who found comfort next to someone who has always loved her like a father and a brother who gave everything for her.

2- "They erased all her lore" No. Tallulah's lore is the one she built with Philza and Chayanne over the course of the year they lived together. Her relationship with W and her longing for him was only part of her story (although people made a lot of emphasis on that), but it was not the only thing that defined her, it never was and only people who never got to met her think that. They see her like an extension of that other person, as the only thing that kept him on the server, but did not see her as an individual character and definitely did not watch Phil's Vods and they never really knew her lore.

3-"How do they explain this in the lore?" Simple, there was someone in her life, someone who was her first father, but who spent very little time with her, who left a long time ago and who is currently no longer part of her life. She learned to let go of the past and focused in the family she has in the present, the family that loves her, that watched her grow up, that makes her happy and gives her security to believe in herself and that is the Death Family, Chayanne, Philza and Missa. Time passes, not all people stay, treasure those who are by your side and let go of what never brought you anything but pain.

4- "They should have created another egg and replaced her" Why replaceher? It has no sense or reason. She is a character who built her own story with her family, a story that never really involved that other person other than with one or another sporadic mention, why eliminate a character that evolved by itself? Little by little she separated herself from what she was at the beginning and that bond that she had with that first father was practically non-existent. What would be the point of eliminating it or replace her with another new character?

5- "No matter what other parents and appearance give her, she will always belong to W because she still carries the name he gave her" No. She never belonged to him. She lived with that man for 2 days and apart from leaving him the promise of a reunion, she did not contribute anything else to her life. She formed her own path, her passion for music was not because of him, it was something she already had before, her love for nature, for animals, everything was built in the days she lived with Philza (even with uncle Bad). She suffered for her first father but she moved on, she matured, she discovered her link with death and her powers as a medium, she acquired her own personality and little by little she built the Tallulah she is now.

She never belonged to anyone but herself and she always fought to prove that, but people insisted on dumping trauma on her and reminding her that she was an abandoned child waiting for someone who at a certain point was nothing more than an idealized dream, because There was never a real relationship between them, they never lived together long enough. She little by little made her decisions and chose the people she wanted to be her parents (and it's not that she had few options, Quackity, Bad and even F wanted to adopt her at the time and asked them to, but she was not a girl who was looking for parents). She could choose and she chose Philza, the person who had always been there for her and later she chose Missa, someone who despite not knowing her very well gave her his love unconditionally and gave her security when she needed it. Then she was able to feel the warmth of being part of a complete family.

6- "They should change her name because W gave her that name! That impostor is not Tallulah!" Why? Her name is not anyone's intellectual property, at the time it was given to her, it belonged to her for better or worse and yes, in some way it will always be a tie to her past, but a past she has already left behind and managed to overcome by creating new memories and dreams.

To a certain extent I understand those who became attached to her because she reminded them of that other person, but if they couldn't see her as her own character, it means that they never cared enough to make the effort to get to know her.

It would shock us all if a character we liked suddenly changed drastically and left behind what like us in the first place. But if they had really watched her, they would have realized that the change was not sudden, it was gradual.

She found in Phil a protective and understanding father who always put her and her brother before anything else, who suffered with her her pain and outbursts of frustration due to the depression caused by the absence of her first father. She found in Missa a cute and loving father who always showers her with love and helps her to have confidence in herself. She doesn't lack anything with them. She has closed a cycle of pain in her life and now she can heal.

She chose the look that makes her feel finally free to be herself, whatever the external reasons that led to that, she finally has a future ahead of her unbound by the past and prefers to be more like the people she considers her family now. If you can't see what all of this really meant to Tallulah and her evolution, it's because you never cared to see even 20% of her story. Well, since the middle of last year she began her journey to break away from a name and be herself, fighting to be seen for who she was.

If those people decide to continue supporting someone despite his shit, that is their right, but the server and the admin were also within their right to decide to kick him out and want to distance themselves from a person they consider unpleasant.

7-There were comments of another type, mainly from people who are really very lost with the lore, people who consider her the daughter of Quackity, even confusing her with Tilín (saying that Q didn't know if she was the daughter of W or Luzu and that she should get a DNA test), when we all know that from the beginning she was W's daughter as a single father and that the only reason Quackity could have become Tallulah's father was if to marry W, but that never happened, W didn't come back and Quackity was never able to develop that relationship with Llulah, she considered him a possible father because she knew W loved him, but Q always being kidnapped or something, they never really related much. There are people who, even with a certificate, continue to insist that Tallulah should have been given to Quackity to raise with Luzu (she had a tender interaction with Luzu and people were already asking him to adopt her, saying that she was alone and had no parents, I seriously hate them!) I shouldn't take seriously people who obviously haven't seen Philza even once and I know that many of those people are hispanic and are limited by the language barrier but if they don't have the slightest idea They shouldn't give their opinion… Tallulah is not an object to be passed from hand to hand, she chose and in order to do so she had to go through a very long and painful arc.

8- I firmly believe that it is a great win to now have a certificate that endorses who the people she considers her parents are, but I insist, it was not necessary, because that has been known for a long time and I am sure that if it was created it was to close the mouth mouth to all those people who are not capable of accepting that.

Tallulah is the daughter of Philza and Missa (and no one else), she is part of the Death Family, that is her story, it is not a whim, a whim is continuing to link her to something she is no longer a part of or wanting to make her a part of a lore that never happened or wanting to give her other parents different from the ones she grew up with (Quackity already had Tilín, Richas and now Pepito, I don't think she needs more children and Tallulah doesn't need any more shitty drama in her life).

Tallulah is a beautiful being, both with her old look and with the new and as Missa says "She deserves only the beautiful things in the world"

Tallulah is Phil and Missa's daughter!!! Tallulah is Phil and Missa's daughter!!! Tallulah is Phil and Missa's daughter!!! And I can shout it a thousand times because it's true and she always was, but now it's certified by the government and no amount of complaining or tantrums can change that fact.

Sorry for my bad english. See you!! jajaja ando re agresiva, pero es que nadie se mete con mi familia xD

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aliidarling · 2 days

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i need to purge my urges, shame shame shame pt. 2

RICK GRIMES x fem!reader

part. 1

nsfw content — please scroll if uncomfortable

summary: rick has been slowly trapping you with him, but someone comes up which ends in him having to remind you who u belong to

warnings: nsfw, p in v, fingering, noncon pretty much, manipulating, gaslighting, toxic rick, creampie, baby trapping, rough sex

i took inspo from an anon who requested baby-trapping :3

dark content below !!

You thought after a few days or weeks of being a B at the CRM would fill the void in your heart, the need to go back home and reunite with your friends and family. You could only imagine their smiles and faces, as now you had no way of contacting them. Rick was watching you like a hawk, eyes always on you even when he wasn’t in the room.

The sound of Judith’s laughter echoed in your head as you sat in your new apartment, his. He had just recently asked you to move into his commander suite, which you really couldn’t say no to, who would? The chance to be closer to your husband? You would be crazy to reject such an offer.

Every day of the last week had gone the same. You’d wake up in his arms, make love, eat breakfast, and split ways, Rick off to command and you on your way to stab walkers at the gate for hours in the heat. The thick uniforms were annoying but you were starting to get used to it.

What didn’t sit right with you was how *casual* Rick was with this whole thing. You had made the mistake of trying to reason with him a few weeks ago, which now was a reminder in your head not to anger him.

“The hell do you think you’re doin’?” He says angrily, glaring at you. He was livid, frustrated, and mostly offended. He had been so gentle and kind with you, and you go off and try and run away.

“I was trying— I was, I just got lost, Rick.” You plead quickly, your words a mess as you look up at him pleadingly. Your lips tremble as you see his fists clench and his nose flare. He was pissed off.

“You’re trying to leave me, aren’t you?” He scoffs, turning away to shake his head in disbelief. “Un-fucking-believable.” He sighs to himself. You shrivel up, tears pricking at your eyes. You didn’t want him to be angry at you, why was he angry? You loved him.

“I swear, I swear I’m not. I won’t try to leave, Rick.” You step forward and pull him into a hug, burying your face into his chest as you whimper. He lets out a dramatic groan, rolling his eyes and reluctantly wrapping his arms around you.

“You can’t keep doing this, sweetheart. You know I care about you. How am I supposed to take care of you when you’re not with me, hmm? You’re so small, someone else could just,” He initiates a pew pew sound, making you flinch and curl up further into him. He holds back a mean snicker.

“Say, why don’t you start staying with me? I’ll keep you safe. You’ll wake up in my arms every day and I can stuff that needy pussy whenever you want.” He coos lovingly into your ear, gently picking you up.

The rest was history. Shortly after, you moved in with him, and now you woke up every morning in his arms and fell asleep in them. He would manage to sneak into some of your shifts as the Commander to keep watch, but you could feel his eyes burning through your uniform, you knew you were the only reason why he was there.

But today, something felt off. You were talking with one of the friends you had made in the past month, Micheal. He was one of the B’s as well, you saw him from 8 am to 6 pm every day and during meal breaks. He was sweet, fluffy hair with a killer smile and dimples to die for.

“Did you know one of the a B’s broke into the cafeteria last night and stole a bunch of food? The commanders were all talking about it this morning, they’re pissed.” He innocently gossips. He smiles at you, turning to face you slightly as he stabs a walker right in the face.

You remember Rick slightly talking about it earlier. You give Micheal a nod, politely smiling back at him.

“I dunno who did it, but I hope they got enough for me. I’m starving.” You joke softly. He chuckles and nods, his hands at work but his eyes on you.

As the two of you continue talking happily, relieved at the small distraction from the labor you were forced to do, you feel a pair of eyes burn onto your back. Your heart skipped a beat as you quickly knew who it was. You could recognize that grumpy aura from anywhere.

Peering behind you, you made quick eye contact with a tall commander. Even with the mask on, you knew it was him, you could tell. He was staring right at you, arms crossed and body language annoyed.

You shrink slightly and glanced back at Micheal, taking a small step back. You cough to yourself.

“Sorry, I’ve been kinda sick recently so.. We should keep some space, don’t wanna get you sick, do I?” You laugh softly.

He blinks in surprise before nodding quickly, a small blush coming over his cheek as he realizes his close he was to you. It was cute how giddy he was when it came to you, it was obvious the boy had a crush.

“Of course! What do you have? A cold? Fever? Do you want me to bring something over later? I have some medicine at my place.”

It was as if Rick had heard those words because next thing you know you’re getting shoved back into a hard chest.

“Consignee, you’re being called.” A rough voice says. You look up behind you to see the tall commander you already knew who was gazing down at you coldly. He diverts his attention to Micheal, and his gaze goes angry. You can see the dents between his brows that he has when he gets angry.

“Yes, commander.” You salute, glancing at Micheal and giving him a weak smile before walking off.

Rick stands there for a moment, glaring at Micheal, before following you.

Once you’re inside the building and in a private hall, he doesn’t waste a second and shoves you against a wall, his mask already off and his face all up in yours.

“Who the hell do you think you are? Flirting with others in front of my face like I’m some fuckin’ idiot.” He snapped. His rough hands go to hold your shoulders flush to the wall, his eyes narrowed with a glint of menace in them. He was angry, pissed off, and confused.

Why would you go and flirt with someone else when you have him? He was the perfect husband— talk, handsome, sweet personality, and amazing bed skills, something he was sure Micheal didn’t have. Stupid Micheal probably didn’t even know how to be a real man. Rick was a real man.

“What are you talking about?” You gasp. “I wasn’t flirting with him— what?! Me and him are just friends!” You counter immediately, getting defensive and offended.

“Like hell you are,” He scoffs, pushing you closer. His eyes gaze down at you coldly, narrowed and furious. He stares at you before pressing his nose against you, his hot breath on your face. You shiver and try to lean back but the wall has you trapped.

“You’re lucky I didn’t kill him right there, would have painted the gates with his blood. Would you of liked that?” He sneers. You go still momentarily, thinking over his harsh threat, your heartbeat racing.

“No, no Rick. You don’t need to do all that— I won’t talk to him.” You say quickly, reaching to gently cup his face with your shaky palms. You gulp nervously and attempt to soothe him, rubbing gently and pressing a little peck to his lips. He growls against your lips, pulling you back in when you attempt to part. He doesn’t want to be away from you right now, he wants all of you and your loyalty entirely.

It had been a few days since then. Everything was supposedly fine, you guessed. Rick was still watching you like a hawk. You could feel the glare on your back whenever Micheal goes anywhere near you, so you make sure to come up with excuses to leave the young man alone for the sake of his safety.

You didn’t want anything to happen to him. You knew Rick. You used to, that is. You had no idea why he had changed so much, but you couldn’t just leave him. No— You loved him. You wouldn’t leave. Maybe you could help him go back to his old self, maybe he was just damaged.

Yeah. That’s it. He needs you. You have to help him. Aid him in returning to his old self so you can have *your* Rick back.

You were out by the lake when you heard leaves crunching next to you. You turned to face the disturbance, your heart skipping a beat when you thought it was Rick— but the sight of the blonde boy had you relaxing for some reason.

“Micheal.” You greet with a polite smile, shuffling on the bench to make room for him. He smiles back at you and sits down, a few inches between your thighs.

“You alright? I’ve uh, noticed you’ve been a little distant recently.” He frowned, leaning back on the bench and gazing at the beautiful lake in front of the two of you. It was fall, the leaves were falling and the sidewalk was covered in a variety of red, orange, and yellow.

Your smile twitched as you picked at your hair.

“It’s nothing, just haven’t been feeling well. I think I caught a cold.” You chuckle softly, facing him slightly. You put your arm on the back of the bench, leaning on your palm. You gazed at him closely.

Knowing Rick wasn’t here, you felt oddly comfortable. You weren’t scared of accidentally angering him by being friendly with Micheal like you could breathe clearly for once.

He gives you a concerned look, brows furrowing innocently.

“Oh, that’s not good. How do you feel today?”

A small sigh left you as you squirmed in your position, not sure what to say. Pressing your lips together for a moment, you pondered.

“…Peachy.”

A small giggle left the both of you as you sat and conversed freely, no commanders breathing down your neck or glaring daggers.

You should have known that the peace never lasted long when it came to being married to a ticking time bomb. The second you entered your apartment, the air was tense and you could tell by the way Rick was looking at you that you did something wrong.

“What’s wrong?” You said immediately, rushing forward to him. You gently place your hands on his forearms, frowning up at him innocently. What did you do? Why is he angry?

He grunts lowly and grabs you by your shoulders, pushing you back until your back is against the wall. You failed to speak as your throat went dry, your heart stopping for a good second.

“Rick—“ Your voice cracked, a yelp leaving you as his fist landed on the wall just inches from your face.

“Shut the hell up, you ungrateful little,” He inhales deeply before he says something he knows he’ll regret. One hand next to you clenched in a fist, the other rubbing his jaw in a stressed manner, he finally looks down at you with a harsh glare.

“Do you even love me?” He chokes out, blinking. His voice was scratchy, the southern accent from years ago a subtle hint now.

You blink in surprise, lips parting as you stand there confused and fearful.

“W-What? Of course, I do! You're my husband, I searched for you for years,” You were once again interrupted by him as he raised his voice at you, making you flinch and cower in his presence.

“The hell were you doin’ with Micheal, huh?! That skimpy little boy— Out there by the lake, talking like you’re two little love birds, who the hell do you think you are?!” He snaps.

His hands come up to your face aggressively, making you flinch as you think he’s gonna hit you. He instead cups your cheeks and leans down so he’s breathing down your cheeks.

“You thought I was gon’ hit you? Is that how low you think of me? What the hell?” His raised voice has you practically trembling in fear, legs wobbly and bottom lip quivering pathetically.

“N-No Rick, you know I don’t think of you like that. You’re scaring me, please.” You whimpered out, attempting to squirm out of his hold. He tightens his grasp on you, pressing his body against yours.

“You shut that pretty mouth of yours, baby, before I do something you really won’t like. I’ll give you a reason to cry, got that? Huh?” He shakes you, making your eyes burn with humiliation and tears.

“Y-Yes.” You nod, your hands shakily reaching for him as you weakly attempt to push his hands off your face. In response, he slightly slaps your cheek as a warning, a pressurized pat.

You blink hard, trying to hold back the tears. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

He stares you down, thinking silently in his head. He was quiet, and his silence was more threatening than his words for some reason. He was unrecognizable when it came to reading him. He used to be easy to calm down, but not anymore.

“Y’know, I never got to see you with a baby bump. Saw you raise Carl with me, but never saw you pregnant. Never.” He mumbles. His eyes narrow as he looks you up and down. His words send goosebumps down your spine, the dark reasoning behind them known to you. You attempt to push him off more firmly now, sniffling.

“Don’t do this,” You choke out. He ignores your pleas and grabs you, manhandling you into his bed and pressing you down. His body was big and muscular, he had grown a lot. Small pleas leave your throat as you squirm and thrash, but it’s all useless to him.

“Shhhh, I’m not gonna hurt ya’, is it so bad I wanna see my wife pregnant? You’d look so cute, belly full of my babies.” He whispers, smiling down at your form. He pushes his hands under your shirt and pulls it up over your head. It gets stuck on your head because of your thrashing, making him roll his eyes in annoyance.

He slaps your thigh once he has the shirt off you, scowling down at you.

“Behave, or I swear to god.” He hisses. He watches as you start to let tears stream down your cheeks, and he holds back the smile as he reaches down and gently kisses them away.

“Don’t cry baby, you’re gonna be the prettiest mama I know.” He mumbles as he starts to kiss up your belly, pampering you with affection that only makes you feel worse. Every kiss has you sniffling and hiccuping under him, your body trembling.

“Can’t run from me when you’re pregnant with my child, right?” He chuckles darkly, large hands cupping your belly. He squeezes it gently and smiles at your reaction.

He pulls you in for a kiss, hands tugging down your pants and panties, not wasting any time. He was impatient, he’d admit it. He didn’t want another second to go where you weren’t stuffed full of his seed.

Spreading your thighs was hard with the way you were squeezing them shut. He rolls his eyes at your fight but easily holds them apart, the other hand going down to your pussy.

He clicks his tongue as he feels how barely wet you are. “Whatever, it’ll do.” With that, he shoves his fingers into your mouth. He glares at you, waiting for your saliva to coat his fingers before he pulls out and shoves them knuckle-deep into your cunt.

“A-Augh!” You gasp at the sudden burn in your lower region, your body tensing and eyes fluttering. Even with your salvia around the fingers currently thrusting deeper into you, it still hurt like a bitch to be stretched open so suddenly. Rick’s fingers were thick.

“Shhh, take it, c'mon.” He mutters, eyes narrowed as his fingers keep sliding in and out roughly, not giving you a chance to breathe as he makes scissoring motions.

Your moans are forced out of your throat. Even with how hard you were trying to hold them back, Rick knew exactly how to make you feel good, knew which spots make your toes curl and which ones made you cum the hardest.

He ignores your shaky cries and how you begged him to stop, his fingers only going harder. You curl up at the feeling, gasping. You were already feeling close to cumming to your embarrassment.

“So close already?” He snickers meanly, pulling out swiftly and rushing to unbuckle his belt and pull down his jeans. He was in a hurry, a hurry to get balls-deep in you and fuck you until you’re leaking cum. “Poor baby.” He tsk’s at your whimper.

“No, don’t— Rick,” You beg desperately as he pulls out his hard cock and positions himself on top of you, tip against your opening and his hands holding you down. You feel more tears coming as your legs are forced open and your thighs are pressed against your chest, knees almost touching your chin.

You sob under him as he slowly thrusts inside, his eyes rolling back at the feeling of your tight pussy squeezing him. Even with how he stretched you open, it still felt like he was ripping you open whenever he slid himself into you.

He presses his chest down onto your thighs, legs over his shoulders, and his hands grab yours to hold them above your head. Your eyes roll back at the feeling, trembling in a mix of fear, pain, and arousal. You didn’t k is what to do.

“Please—“

“Shut up, shhh.” He starts to thrust, and you immediately start to moan at how deep his cock hit inside you. Gasping for air as you choked on your tears, his grunt grew louder as he picked up a smooth pace.

“Gonna stuff this pussy full of my babies, you’re gonna be so pretty pregnant, baby, don’t cry, don’t cry.” He soothes you, thrusting harder into your wailing hole.

Even with how good it felt to have him thrust into your body, his body pressing against yours with his lips pressing gentle kisses all over you, you couldn’t focus on any of it. All you could think of was how much he had changed. The Rick you knew would never do this to you.

Your body was being pleasured, but your heart was being stabbed over and over again, aching and throbbing painfully. You just wanted this all to stop and for him to hold you close and comfort you. Was that too much to ask for?

He groans and reaches down to get as close to you as possible, saying, "Fuck, fuck." He intended for you to feel every single inch of him, the depth of him being there in your tiny little pussy, and every feeling he gave you.

“Ya’ feel that? Yeah? Can you feel how deep I am in that pussy of yours? I can feel you gripping me, my love; must feel so good, doesn't it?” Your cries are muffled as he successfully presses his cock further, his fat head grazing your tender region and making you clench up.

“Gonna cum inside you and force you to take every drop, knock you up, and then you can’t leave me. You’re not going anywhere, all mine sweetheart.” He rambles into your ear as his thrusts continue, your eyes rolling back at the force and pace. You sobbed under him for mercy but he didn’t listen, instead tightening his grip on your wrists.

“Fuckkkk, feels so good,— Take every bit of it, kay? Gon’ make you cry so much harder if you don’t,” He groans. He buries himself as deep inside you as he can, hugging you tightly to his chest as he releases his thick load in your walls. It takes him a moment to part from you, sweating and panting. You had him whimpering on top of you, still holding you down. He starts to sloppily thrust again, making you flinch at the feeling.

“No, please stop! I can’t take anymore, please!” You plea, whining shakily as he rams into your sensitive hole over and over again. You already had his cum dripping out of you, the squelching sounds making you blush in embarrassment as he kept going. He invokes your words and continues his torturous pace.

“We’re gonna be here for a while, sweetheart.” He chuckles darkly. With a raspy groan, he grasps your waist, letting your wrists go finally and holding your waist as leverage to batter your insides easier.

“If you think I’m goin’ to sleep tonight without a shit load of cum inside you, then you’re stupider than I thought.”

Yeah, you were definitely getting pregnant after this.

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x reader smut #rick grimes smut #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x reader smut #the walking dead smut #twd #towl #twd towl #the ones who live #twd the ones who live #Spotify

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leadexorcist · 2 days

Text

I Want You to Lose Control

Summary: Adam just wanted Lucifer to lose control

WARNING: Smut, Praise Kink, Heavy Feminization, Crossdressing, Semi-Public Sex, Semi-Car Sex, Thigh Riding, Fingering, Eye Contact, Finger Sucking, Top Lucifer Morningstar, Bottom Adam, Adam has a Pussy, Double Penetration(kinda), Anal Fingering(kinda), Established Relationship

Adam’s content.

He’s happy, something he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

And he’s finally with the love of his life, well, afterlife, but still.

Just as it should have been since that damn Garden.

Sure, coming back as a Sinner was the last fucking thing on Adam’s mind after the last Extermination Day, but if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have rekindle what he thought was lost, way back in Eden.

Lucifer had offered a deal that Adam couldn’t turn down, protection from Hell that wanted to do less than savory things to the First Man, due to the past Exterminations.

It was really a no brainer on what Adam’s answer was.

Since then, Adam had been staying at the Hotel, and as he would hate to admit it. It was actually kinda nice. There weren’t any eyes on him all the time, no expectations he had to meet. He was just Adam.

But Lucifer had been awkward, well he’s always awkward, but more than usual? And at first it was easy to ignore, until Adam noticed it was just around him, that Lucifer loses his cool, making everything tense and leaving everyone embarrassed, sans Adam, who was just confused.

Surprisingly, it was Husk, who spilled to Adam late one night, on why Lucifer was so off.

And let’s just say the night ended with Lucifer going to sleep, a very happy man, cuddling with his Dove.

The past few weeks after that had been the same, just with more Lucifer involved and Adam couldn't find it in himself to particularly mind Lucifer's attention was solely focused on him, just like he had always wanted.

And the sex! Fuck, Adam had never felt so safe, wanted, cherished, loved.

Lucifer always make sure if he’s okay and comfortable, but Adam is getting fucking sick of it.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves what he has with Lucifer in and out of the bedroom, it's just..

Adam wanted Lucifer to lose control, just this once.

So when he put on a black silk dress, he had a mission; Drive Lucifer Fucking Crazy. Lucifer was already at the bar with the rest of their friends and Adam was supposed to meet them as soon as he finished tending his garden. It was a gift from Lucifer that left Adam with a very sore throat when he showed Lucifer how thankful he was.

Usually, it would take Adam a while to get out of his garden, but he finished early, he was a man on a mission after all.

His dress barely covered his ass, it was too revealing, but Adam knew how he looked, knew that people usually liked him because he was hot. He put on red lipstick, finishing the look with a gold choker on his neck, a L dangling from it. He could feel all eyes on him when he stepped into the dive bar, he made his way to the bar, ordering a glass of vodka. The bartender had handed it over with a compliment, and Adam would have thanked the man, if it wasn’t for his not so subtle eye-fucking and the excessive lick of his lips. He shuddered in disgust and ignored the man, making his way to the booth that the Hazbin’s had occupied, after spotting them the minute he walked in.

Lucifer actually choked on his drink when he saw him, and Adam hid a smug smirk behind the rim of the glass in his hand, and was quickly pulled to Lucifer’s side, who was content to pepper kisses on his neck and collarbone as Adam talked to the rest of the group. Soon they scattered around, some dancing, some to the pool tables, and Adam and Lucifer were left alone.

“Oh, Adam baby,” Lucifer groaned into His Dove’s neck, inhaling his scent. “Do you actually wanna kill me?”

“Hello to you too, Luci,” Adam snickered, and Lucifer pulled away from the tempting pale neck to kiss him, Adam’s hand softly brushing his red circled cheeks.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Lucifer mumbled against Adam’s lips, slowly pulling him into his lap. Adam ignored what he said and kept on kissing him, sucking his long snake tongue into his mouth, his hands playing with the blonde hairs at the nape of the shorters neck. Lucifer sighed contentedly, happy to stay there, making out with His Dove.

“Let’s go home?” Adam whispered as he pulled away, his lips swollen, Lucifer’s face messed up, red lipstick smeared all over his chin and mouth, he looked up at Adam, dazed. Adam grinded on a thin but muscular thigh, letting out a soft moan. “Please, Luci?”

“Fuck, yes baby,” Lucifer was still nodding as he was led outside by Adam, their hands entertwined. Adam heard him growl, Lucifer’s free hand squeezing his ass. Thankfully, the Royal Limo was waiting outside for them, and they quickly climbed into the backseat.

“Adam, baby, light of my life,” Lucifer said with a groan as Adam straddled him again, slowly riding his thigh. “You look so fucking good like this,” Lucifer whispered, pushing his fingers past plump lips, Adam sucking them as a soft moan escapes his mouth at the praise. Lucifer pushed his thigh into Adam’s core, helping him grind more firmly, Adam kept looking into red eyes, letting out soft whines as he sucked on the offered fingers. “Such a good girl, my prettiest good girl.”

“Fuck,” Adam whimpered, burying his head into Lucifer’s neck now that both of Lucifer’s hands are on his hips, pulling him down harder. Lucifer’s slacks were wet, ruined by Adam, but he groans each time he feels his wetness spread on him. Adam was reaching his climax, letting out soft ‘Ah, ah, ah’s’ repeatedly, his plush thighs are shaking as he loses his rhythm, Lucifer keeps his hands on his hips, helping him ride his orgasm. Adam keeps his face buried into Lucifer’s neck, biting and sucking.

“Thank you, Sebastian.” Lucifer says, carrying Adam and basically running to their shared room. Adam makes a small mental note to ask Lucifer to give the man a raise, poor man is probably traumatized. But Lucifer pushes him against the door as soon as they step inside, a knee between his legs.

“I don’t think you know what you do to me,” Lucifer groans into his collarbone, leaving a trail of bruises that Adam wouldn’t mind showing off. “Coming into the bar, looking like this, I wanted to rip this dress off as soon as you walked in, taking you in front of everyone, especially in front of the ones who stared for far too long,” Lucifer carefully took off the silk dress. “I really like this one, I don’t wanna ruin it,” he answered sheepishly as Adam arched a brow at him.

“But Luci~! What if I wanted you to lose control?” Adam purred against his lips, pushing down against the knee between his legs. “What if I wanted you to bend me over that table and fuck me in front of all those people? Until I’m so sore I can barely walk. Then everyone would see how good you fuck me.”

“Holy fucking shit, Dove, your driving me crazy,” Lucifer groaned into his neck as Adam, wrapped his legs around his waist, rubbing against the firm muscle he can feel through Lucifer’s button up. Lucifer sucks a nipple into his mouth, backing until he sits down on a sofa, Adam on his lap, riding his thigh once again. “Open your mouth for me baby,” Lucifer says as he pushes three fingers into his mouth, and Adam sucks on them greedily. “That fucking mouth of yours, you just love sucking, don’t you?”

Adam mewls, Lucifer’s other hand strokes his face softly, and Adam leans into the touch, moving his hips slower. “I’ll take care of you, My Love,” Lucifer whispers against his plump mouth, as his wet fingers dip inside Adam’s cunt, his thumb rubbing firm circles on the others stiff clit. “Will you be a good girl for me?”

“I’ll be your best girl,” Adam whines into his mouth as Lucifer’s fingers move inside him, stroking his sweet spot relentlessly. Lucifer helps him ride his fingers as he pulls and pinch his nipples, addicted to the noises Adam lets out breathlessly, he twists his fingers suddenly, and Adam arches his back, his plush chest pushed into Lucifer’s face, a bright blush spreading to his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“That’s it baby,” Lucifer coos, kissing his neck and biting, soothing the bites with his long tongue. “You’re so beautiful like this.” Adam whimpers, dropping his head onto Lucifer’s shoulder.

Lucifer carries him to their bedroom, dropping him on the bed and crawling on top of him. “I’m nowhere near done with you,” Lucifer says with a wicked grin and snarl as Adam pushes his shirt off his shoulders. “Wanna taste you,” Lucifer mumbles out as he trails wet kisses down Adam’s body. He pushes Adam’s legs apart, an appreciative hum leaving his mouth as he inhales his scent, kissing the inside of those thighs, leaving red angry marks on pale skin, letting out hot soft breathes on Adam’s quivering cunt, listening to him moan and watching him chase his mouth, such a beautiful mess. Lucifer quickly leans down and sucks his clit, hard, and Adam cums, hard. Lucifer laughs softly as he licks up the mess he made. He stands up and takes off his pants, flipping Adam onto his stomach, two thumbs pressing on back dimples.

“You’re so gorgeous like this,” Lucifer praised. “Spread out, looking so fucked,” Lucifer presses his cock into Adam’s dripping cunt, slowly pushing in, Adam moans high and loud into the pillows. “I bet my throne you look the best with my cock snuggled deep inside of you.”

“God, Luci~,” Adam moans, his voice gone. “Fuck me, please,” he pushes back, but Lucifer keeps him in place, admiring how good he looks. He pushes in, his thick cock sinking lower, spreading Adam out as he groans and thrashes.

“What a beautiful mess,” Lucifer whispers, his chest flushed to Adam’s back, a lazy rhythm of pushing and pulling, wet slick noises filling the room. “My beautiful mess,” Lucifer presses soft feather kisses between Adam’s shoulder blades and back, his thumb now pushing into that tight puckered hole, his other thumb rubbing firm circles on his clit, helping him relax. “I wanted to fuck your ass for so long, baby,” Lucifer whispers, as Adam’s high moans fill the room, Lucifer’s thumb finally pops inside. “You’re so tight, baby, do you think I can fit my cock?”

“You’ll make it fit. You always do” Adam moans, his words slurred. “Please, fuck. Please Luci~!”

”What do you want, baby?” Lucifer asks, pushing all the way in, leaving kisses on Adam’s back. “Tell me, anything for you.”

"I don’t know,” Adam sobs into the pillow, frustrated. “Make me feel good, Lucifer.”

"I’ll make you feel good, My Love,” Lucifer promises, pulling his thumb out. “Relax for me?”

"Yes,” Adam breathed out, now laying on his back, spreading his legs farther. “Anything for you,” he echoes, Lucifer’s smile is full of love as he leans down, kissing him thoroughly. “Tell me if it’s too much?” Lucifer says, looking into Adam’s eyes, who nods, enthusiastic.

Lucifer pushes his cock into Adam, slow and deliberate. Before setting a pace that drives him wild, giving it to him how he likes it, fast and dirty, Adam’s moans drive him wild, and before he knows it Lucifer cums undone, absolutely ruined as he kisses Adam’s pale throat, who rides out his orgasm slowly.

"Up for another round?” Lucifer asks after a while, trailing light kisses on Adam’s jaw. “Or do you wanna take a bath and then cuddle?”

"A bath sounds perfect, Lu,” Adam’s voice is raspy, and Lucifer’s sure he’d fall to his knees if he wasn’t already lying on bed, he purrs into the bruised up neck as fingers softly scratch his scalp.

#adamsapple #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer

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skyward-floored · 2 days

Text

Glasses

(Incredibles au)

...

“They’re back!”

At Wind’s shout, Wild shot up and bolted outside to the car pulling into their driveway, slightly using his speed even though he wasn’t supposed to. Four didn’t even have time to tell him to wait before his older brother was hanging off Twilight’s arm and shaking him.

Four felt a flash of annoyance as Wind ran ahead of him as well, but he stuffed it down and ran out to join them, and arrived just in time to hear the tail end of Wind and Wild’s begging.

“Where is it Twi? I want to see your photo! Warriors said they always look bad, I want to see! Let me see it!” they hounded simultaneously, but Twilight only brushed Wild’s hand off his arm with a morose look.

“I didn’t get it.”

Wild stopped in his tracks, and Four and Wind looked at each other, then back at Twilight.

“You... you didn’t get it? Why? How?” Wild said incredulously. “It’s a learner’s permit! They’re like, impossible not to get!”

“How did that happen?” Four asked in confusion.

“Apparently I can’t see well enough to drive,” Twilight mumbled, putting his hands in his pockets. “They said I have to get glasses if I want one.”

“Glasses?!”

Twilight nodded glumly, and his brothers looked at him in disbelief.

“There’s no way you need glasses, your vision is great!” Four said with no small indignation on his brother’s behalf, and Twilight just sighed.

“Apparently it’s not good enough to pass the vision test for driving,” he said as Time also got out of the car. “I have to get them, or no learner’s permit.”

“But that’s not fair!” Wind cried, and Time put a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s to keep the roads safe, Wind. You wouldn’t want someone who could barely see driving a car next to you, would you?” their father asked, and Wind relented a little.

“...okay, I guess not. But Twi can see fine! He’s never had trouble with looking at stuff!”

“I just barely didn’t pass,” Twilight grumbled. “I swear that lady had it out for me, I think she made the pictures blurrier on purpose.”

“Well we’ll see when we take you in for a proper eye appointment,” Time sighed, and Twilight nodded, still looking disappointed. Their father went inside, and Four watched as Twilight followed him, shoulders slumped and ears drooping.

“Poor Twi,” Wild said, shaking his head in disbelief. Four had to agree.

What a way to find out you needed glasses. And how could Twilight need glasses anyway? His vision was fine!

...then again, now that Four was thinking about it, sometimes Twilight did have some trouble seeing farther away stuff...

Well. It was still unfair.

“Well maybe he won’t actually need them,” Wind piped up. “He said the lady there didn’t like him, right? Maybe she was exaggerating, and when he goes to the eye doctor there won’t be anything wrong!”

“Maybe,” Four said doubtfully.

“Well... I’m gonna go see if Mom has cake ingredients,” Wild said as he began to walk back in the house. “Cake makes everything better.”

“Better make it carrot cake,” Wind said as he followed him. “It’ll help with Twi’s eyes.”

Four raised an eyebrow. “Wind, that’s not a real thing.”

“Well it might be, you never know!”

(...)

A week later, the three of them were once again waiting at the window when Twilight got out of the car, and Wild ran to greet him, Wind and Four trailing behind. This time though, Twilight didn’t even look at any of them, brushing past Wild and turning into a wolf the moment he was safely inside.

“Uh oh,” Four said, and they all looked at their father as he got out of the car.

Time wordlessly held up a glasses case.

“Oh no, poor Twi,” Wind moaned, and Wild looked back at the house. “The carrot cake didn’t work!”

“Wind you didn’t seriously think that was going to help, did you?” Four asked as he raised an eyebrow, and Wind shrugged.

“Well I was hoping for Twilight’s sake.”

“I’m gonna go talk to him,” Wild said, but his father snagged his shirt before he could run off, shaking his head.

“Not right now, Wild, he’s not in the best mood. You can talk to him later,” Time said. “Give him some space for now.”

Wild nodded, and Time released his shirt, Four hearing him let out a sigh. Then he walked into the house, probably to tell their mother about the glasses. Legend scooted past him as he walked in, and joined his brothers on the lawn, scratching at his hat.

“I’m guessing by the grumpy wolf in our living room that Twilight didn’t have a good time at the eye doctor?” he asked.

“He got glasses,” Wind reported solemnly, and Legend blinked.

“...That’s all? Sheesh, you’d think he was going blind or something the way he looked at me and ‘rule. Why’s he so upset? They’re just glasses.”

“Are you kidding? Do you remember back when that one guy in Twi’s class got glasses? Everybody teased him, you wouldn’t want to be called four-eyes all the time, would you?” Wild said, then looked at Four. “No offense.”

Four shrugged, unbothered by the phrase (it wasn’t like he had glasses), and Legend raised an eyebrow. “But I thought he just has them for driving, he won’t even need them at school.”

“Unless his eyesight gets worse,” Four pointed out, and Wind elbowed him. “Ow, just sayin’.”

Four rubbed his side as they all began to trail back inside, and Wild scratched his head thoughtfully. “What I don’t get is that I thought wolves had good eyesight,” he said, looking confused. “How does Twilight need glasses if that’s true?”

Four perked up. “Well, they have good all-around vision, but their distance vision isn’t as good as Hylians. They can see movement pretty far away, but not clear details, plus the colors are a bit more muted then what we see,” he rattled off, and his brothers all stared at him. Four coughed. “...I got a wolf book from the library the other week.”

“Well anyway, I bet he’ll get used to the glasses,” Legend shrugged as he kicked his shoes off and walked away. “I’m just not looking forward to him being all mopey in the meantime though.”

A few of them nodded in agreement, and Four peeked into the living room. Twilight was flopped on the floor with his head sitting on his paws, and when he noticed Four looking, he got up and plodded away, tail drooping.

His brothers all watched him pad away, then looked at each other.

“...You’d better make another cake, Wild.”

(...)

Nobody saw much of Twilight the rest of the day, though Four tried to search him out a few times. He obviously wasn’t in the mood to be consoled, and Four went to bed that night wondering if he could do anything to help him.

He couldn’t take away Twilight’s glasses, but there had to be something he could do.

But what?

When Four woke up the next morning he hadn’t had any brilliant ideas, but went he into the bathroom, he found Twilight staring at himself in the mirror, a pair of glasses on his face.

Four froze, then hesitantly walked forward, studying his brother. Twilight flicked an ear at the sound of his footsteps, but didn’t say anything. Just kept looking at himself.

“Morning Twi,” Four ventured, leaning on the counter.

“Mornin’,” Twilight replied distantly, still staring at his reflection.

Four studied him for a second in silence, a bit struck at the unfamiliar figure in the mirror. It was still Twilight, but the glasses changed his appearance a fair amount. Having the frames on his face made Twilight look a little odd already, but he also looked... older, somehow, like he was an adult or something.

...Four wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“You’re trying on your glasses, huh?” Four asked after a minute, and Twilight nodded.

“Yeah. The doctor said I should wear them around so I’m used to them before I try and get my learner’s again or anything.”

“Well they look fine to me,” Four said, and Twilight gave him a half-smile.

“Thanks Smithy,” he said as Wild walked in, their other brother pausing as he grabbed his toothbrush.

“Whoa, weird. They make you look older,” Wild said, tilting his head and staring. “Like... kinda like Dad? But with glasses.”

“Dad with glasses. Thanks Wild,” Twilight snorted, but he didn’t look too bothered. Maybe he’s feeling better about them?

“Well what did you want me to say? That you look like a nerd?” Wild asked, and Twilight gave him a flat look.

“No, actually. Thanks.”

“Well he does kinda look like a nerd,” Legend said as he wandered in, drawn by the sound of their conversation. “A nice nerd. The kind that knows how to do calculus but still cries at baby birds— ack!”

While Legend was speaking, Twilight had reached over and grabbed him.

Four ducked out of the way while Legend tried to escape, and Wild laughed as Twilight noogied his brother, somehow managing to make Legend’s bedhead even messier.

“Alright alright stoppit! I take it back, you don’t look like a nerd!” Legend squawked, and Twilight released him, dusting his hands off. Legend grumpily smoothed his hair down, then smirked a little. “...they do make you look like some old dusty professor though.”

Twilight grabbed at him again, but Legend ducked and turned invisible, laughter and rapid footsteps quickly retreating from the room. Twilight huffed, and as he looked back at Wild and Four, Wild quickly muffled his laughter.

“Ah whatever, go ahead and laugh,” Twilight said with an eye roll. “I know they make me look dorky.”

Four frowned at the hint of bitterness in his voice. Okay, so maybe he isn’t feeling better about them after all. “I don’t think they make you look dorky,” he defended, and Wild nodded, starting in on brushing his teeth.

“I fink they make youwook fmart,” he said with a mouthful of toothpaste. “Wike a fwibrarian or somefwin.”

“Like a Librarian. Right. Just the look I want,” Twilight sighed, and he looked at himself in the mirror again.

Wild finished brushing and spat, and Four caught Twilight’s sleeve, making sure he was looking.

“Don’t listen to Legend, he’s just being dumb,” Four said. “And Wild. I think the glasses look nice, they don’t make you look bad.”

“Hey, I never said they looked bad,” Wild defended, and Twilight snorted.

“You kinda implied it.”

“Okay well maybe I did, but I wasn’t trying to.” Twilight still looked unimpressed. “Okay okay, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you; if anyone at school gives you trouble, I’ll beat them up,” Wild said with a grin as he pounded his fist into his palm.

“No, nope, no fights at school,” Twilight said, but there was a faint smile on his face. “I appreciate the thought, though. Thanks Wild. And you too, Four.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Wild said with some finger guns, though the effect was a bit ruined by the toothpaste on his chin. Then he zipped off, and Twilight and Four were left alone again.

Twilight glanced at the mirror and his smile fell a bit, and Four frowned. “Hey Twi?”

“Yeah?” his older brother asked, and Four nudged him.

“I think you look nice. For real. The glasses make you look... mature. Smart,” Four said. “And I’d split now and tell you with four people except Red would probably cry and I don’t want to look like I’ve been crying.”

Twilight chuckled, and gave his hair a bit of a ruffle. “No worries. Thanks Four.”

Four smiled. “You’re welcome.”

The two of them finished in the bathroom then, Four still keeping an eye on Twilight. He still didn’t seem too happy about the glasses, giving his reflection an uneasy look as they left the bathroom, but at least he seemed more cheery overall as they went downstairs. That was a win in Four’s book.

And if anyone at school did give Twilight any flack about the glasses... well.

Maybe Wild’s idea wasn’t such a bad one.

#set sometime after the movie-ish #linkeduniverse #linked universe #incredibles au #lu twilight #lu four #lu Wild #linked universe fic #incredibles au fic #writing from the floor #also #based somewhat off a true story #my poor sister XD #anyways I did my research on wolf vision but I apologize if the stuff here is incorrect #looking up ‘are wolves nearsighted’ didn’t get many results unfortunately

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wosoimagines · 11 hours

Text

Failure

part 3 of rivals

Jo gets called back to the senior team after a crushing defeat.

2,920 words

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“You should take a break, kid,” Alyssa said as she rolled the ball back toward me. I shook my head because that was the last thing I needed. I kicked the ball back up into my hands so that I could set up for another penalty attempt. “Come on, Jo. You don’t want to overwork yourself.”

“No! Hope was right, okay? She was right! I wasn’t good enough!” I snapped as I spiked the ball on the pitch. “My penalty was supposed to win it and I missed! It didn’t just get stopped either! I missed the goal! Why Jill called me back up after that, I don’t know. If I can’t show up in the final of a U-20 World Cup, then how can anyone trust me to show up for the World Cup next summer?”

Alyssa caught the ball as it went flying toward her as I kicked it once I finished my little rant.

“Okay, that’s enough!” Alyssa said as she moved out of the goal. I looked away from her as she marched toward me. “Losing is part of the game sometimes. No one is perfect and no one is gonna win every game. You’re allowed to be upset but we’ve been out here for hours now. This isn’t good for you.”

“What’s good for me is not choking during a final.”

“Jo-”

“No! I gotta be able to make these, Alyssa! And if I can’t trust myself, how can any of you trust me?”

I reached out to take the ball from Alyssa, but she threw it over her shoulder faster than I could grab it. I clenched my jaw before I moved to step past the goalie, but she grabbed the back of my shirt to tug me back in front of her.

“You’re done for the day.”

“I am not.”

“You are, Jo. You’ve been out here for hours. We already had practice today with the rest of the team,” Alyssa said as she shoved me back further from the penalty spot. “We’re going to go back to the hotel, and you’re going to take a hot shower and relax.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

Alyssa threw her hands up in the air as she scoffed. Alyssa shook her head before she started to drag me toward the locker room.

“I’m not giving you a choice. I’m not going to let you hurt yourself because you’re upset,” Alyssa said firmly. I rolled my eyes at that, but I didn’t fight back as she made sure that I headed to the locker room. “I’m sure Becky will read to you if you ask her to.”

I scoffed at that as the two of us entered the locker room to change out of our cleats and to grab our bags. Then Alyssa was guiding me outside to the van the team had left for us so that we could get back to the hotel. We both stayed quiet on the drive back and even on the elevator ride up to our rooms.

Jill still had me rooming with Becky. It must have sucked for Becky to still be stuck with me as her roommate for the third camp in a row. It was no secret that the others had gotten different roommates for each of the camps that I had been a part of. Maybe Jill would let me stay with Alyssa so that Becky could room with someone else, so she didn’t have to stay stuck with me.

Alyssa followed me as I walked down the hall to my room. I looked over my shoulder at her before she nodded at the door. I knew that she was probably going to talk to Becky while I took the shower, she was forcing me to take, but I had been hoping she wouldn’t walk me all the way in. I sighed but used my room key to unlock the door before heading in with Alyssa in tow. I dropped my bag at the foot of my bed as Becky looked up from her book at us.

“Hey,” Becky greeted us with a soft smile. “What all did you two get up to? Please don’t tell me the kid suckered you into taking her for ice cream. Dawn will be on all of our asses if we give her too many sweets.”

“Penalties. For three hours.” I didn’t miss how Becky’s eyes widened at Alyssa’s words. “Jo, you stink. Go shower.”

I huffed but I grabbed a clean change of clothes before pulling my shoes off to leave them in the room. Once I made it into the bathroom, I immediately turned on the water and let it run before I pressed my ear up against the wall to try and hear what Becky and Alyssa were talking about.

“She’s gonna run herself in the ground. Blames the entire loss at the U-20 World Cup on herself,” Alyssa’s muffled voice said as I strained to hear what she said.

“I would too if I was in her position. She’s the only one on the team that’s had any experience with the senior team that was on the team in Canada. Then to miss the game winning penalty? You’ve seen her in practice against Hope. If the best goalie in the world can’t stop her, then why would anyone think some goalie on a youth team would throw her off enough to get her to miss a penalty?”

I softly let my head hit the hall. She was right. I could have lived with myself if my shot had been on target, but my shot missed the entire net. I had eight feet of height and twenty-four feet of length to get the ball to go in and I couldn’t do that in what had been the biggest moment in my career so far.

“But none of us are perfect all the time. Jo’s going to overwork herself and get hurt if we don’t stop her. You should have seen her snap on the field today when I told her we were done. She’s got no confidence in herself.”

“And what do you suggest we do, Alyssa? All we can do is support her and help her through this.”

“We need to do something, and we need to do it fast. If we can’t, she’ll work herself into early retirement with injuries.”

I sighed before I moved to get into the shower. Hopefully, the hot water would help me start to relax.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Go back to sleep.”

I froze in my spot as I looked at the sleeping lump on the other bed. I waited for a moment hoping that it had just been Becky talking in her sleep.

“Jo, go back to sleep.”

This time Becky had said it while I was taking a step. I froze as I looked at her again. She wasn’t moving, but obviously she was awake enough to know that I hadn’t been planning on getting back in bed.

“I’m just going to the bathroom.”

A lie.

“No, you’re not,” Becky murmured as she moved part of her covers away from her so that I could see her glaring at me. “You don’t set an alarm to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.”

I didn’t think about that. Becky wasn’t a heavy sleeper either, so, of course, my alarm woke her up. I should have thought about that because it was one of the first things I figured out about Becky after she got annoyed by the number of alarms I had set to wake me up the first morning we had roomed together.

“I have bad bladder control?”

Another lie.

One I was hoping that Becky would believe.

“Don’t lie to me.”

Or she wouldn’t.

I wondered if I really was just a bad liar since my parents barely ever paid attention to me anyway, that I never had to put in too much effort to my lies or if Becky really was just this good at telling when someone was lying.

“Is that your superpower?”

“Jo, I swear to God,” Becky groaned as I sat back down on my bed. “Go back to sleep before I have to climb into your bed and make you lay there at least until it’s an acceptable time for us to be up for breakfast.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

I furrowed my brow as Becky threw her covers off her. I didn’t have time to move either as she lunged at me. Becky’s arms wrapped me up into a hug as I tried to wiggle out of the grip. I wasn’t even sure how she had managed to get both of us under the covers within what felt like seconds, but she had.

“Stop struggling and just go back to sleep,” Becky said softly. I was effectively trapped because Becky wasn’t loosening her grip on me. “I will tell Dawn so she can give me stuff to drug you if I have to.”

We were both quiet for a few moments as I pondered over what Becky had just said.

“Would you really drug me?”

“Do you really want to find out?”

“Not really.”

I sighed as I relaxed in Becky’s arms. If she wasn’t going to let me go, I guess it would make sense to just give in. I would just have to figure out a different way to get my extra practice in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I faltered in my steps as I headed for the ball bag so that I could continue practicing while the rest of the team left, but Christen was standing there with a ball already at her feet.

“Why don’t you show me that move you like so much?”

I had planned on asking Alyssa to practice penalties with me again. I furrowed my brow as I stopped the ball that Christen had passed to me.

The Christen Press wanted me to teach her something? I wasn’t even sure what she was asking me to teach her.

“The one that you used to score against Brazil? I noticed you used it quite a bit.”

“You mean a Hocus Pocus?”

“Yeah, that one.”

I slowly nodded my head. I was a bit surprised that she didn’t ask Tobin to help her. I mean, Tobin was the most skilled player in the history of the USSF, men or women. But I didn’t mind showing Christen.

“You know, you don’t have to be perfect.”

My steps stuttered as I shot the ball into the net at the end of the move. It seemed like everyone had been expressing that they didn’t expect me to be perfect. Which just made it worse.

“You don’t get it. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m only fifteen. I have to be perfect.”

“I might not have been getting called up to the senior team when I was fifteen, but I do remember what it was like to be one of the top prospects being looked at to join the senior team when I wasn’t that much older than you are,” Christen said. She passed the ball over to me before I fired it into the goal. “It’s a lot. I don’t think any of us expect you to be perfect. I don’t expect anyone else on this team to be perfect. We all have our strengths and weaknesses. But even the best of us have bad days.”

“But my bad day was on the biggest game of the tournament. How can anyone trust that I won’t have another bad day during the World Cup when every game is a big game?”

It especially didn’t help that as soon as I had gotten home, Elvis and Mick had been talking all about how I missed my penalty. Neither had ever touched a soccer ball, but they both were sure that they would have been able to at least place the ball on goal.

“I completely missed the goal. You know what I get to hear when I’m at home?” I asked. I didn’t wait for Christen to say anything to me. “Elvis and Mick saying that they could have at least placed it on target. They aren’t going to let me live it down. Not until they move out. I’ve got two more years of my own brothers doubting me. You didn’t even hear what they told our niece.”

I shook my head as I remembered how that had gone. My sister, Marley, and her husband had come to visit for the weekend after I got back from Canada. I had been showing Sky a couple of moves since she was the only one in the family really interested in soccer.

“Sky said she wanted to be like when she grew up and that made my day. Then Angus asked her, ‘What? A failure? Just skating by?’ Do you know what it’s like to have your own brother say that? The same brother I’ve always looked up to because if I didn’t want to go pro, I’d want to work for NASA like him.” I shook my head as I wiped at the sweat the was on my brow. “The people who are supposed to be my biggest supporters don’t believe in me. Why should anyone else?”

“Because we know soccer. You’ve got so much potential but that doesn’t mean you have to be perfect. It just means you get to grow,” Christen said as she stepped closer to put her hands on my shoulders. “We don’t expect you to be perfect. We expect you to grow. You wanna know how you grow? You have bad days. And we’ll be here for you to help you through them when you do have them. This team is a family. And we believe in you.”

“Even Hope?”

“Even Hope.” Christen sent me a soft smile as her hands dropped from my shoulders. “She only acts like that because you get under her skin.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I feel like you played much better today than you did in that U-20 Final,” Aly Wagner said as she stood next to me. I nodded in agreement with that. Becky had helped me prepare to field questions about the final in case it got brought up. “What’s it like coming back from that? You were so close to winning the U-20 World Cup.”

“I went to Canada believing that we were gonna bring it home with us and it was disappointing to lose it the way that we did, especially since it was my penalty that could have won it. It really sucks when you get the chance to practice your penalties against the best goalkeeper in the world but then you turn around and have a bad game during the biggest game of the tournament,” I said as I grinned when I caught Christen’s eye. She sent me a thumbs-up. “But that’s also the great thing about this team, because I was so wrapped up in my head about it that I was gonna get myself hurt and so many on this team were dedicated to helping me out.”

“How so?”

“Becky and Alyssa both have really been taking me under their wings,” I said as I spotted the two of them talking to each other with their eyes trained on me. I sent them a small wave. “I’ve been rooming with Becky since my first camp, so she’s really helped me out with making sure that I’m comfortable and checking in on me. She’s been making sure that I don’t get behind on my schoolwork even though it’s the beginning of the year.

“Alyssa’s been staying after practice regularly to help me get in some extra work. Hope’s been great with pushing my game to another level. I have to push it to that next level when I practice against the best goalie in the world, right? Christen has really helped to get me out of my head during this camp and remind me that even the best on this team have their off days and I’m still growing as a player so I shouldn't stress about it.”

“You’ve been putting in a lot of work with them?” Aly asked.

This was a tricky answer. The last thing I needed was saying the wrong thing and making it seem like the whole team was a bunch of assholes, but I didn’t need to straight up lie.

“I think everyone is still trying to get to know me better,” I admitted. It wasn’t like I was getting shunned by everyone on the team. “Like I said, Alyssa’s been staying after practice, so I have a goalie to go up against. Tobin and I just recently had a skills competition. I’ve got quite a way to go before I catch up to her. I got to teach Christen my favorite move recently. I’m hoping we’ll get to see her use it soon.”

“You have a favorite move?”

“Oh, for sure. I’ve always played with older players, so I’ve had to make sure that my skills were some of the best to keep up with them since I’ve never been the fastest or strongest on the pitch. I fell in love with a couple of moves so now they’re my bread and butter. You’ll just have to hope that I keep getting called up to see them.”

“Well, I certainly hope that we do see more of you in the near future. Thank you, Jo.”

#uswnt imagine #woso imagine #leah williamson imagine #uswnt x reader #woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #uswnt imagines #woso imagines #leah williamson imagines #uswnt #woso #leah williamson

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jaembun · 1 day

Text

the way you look should be a sin.

if mark’s at your door, the only thing you’re going to do is let him in ！⠀⸻⠀mark lee x gnr ⠀ fluff (?) pre rs ⠀ wc 1.4k ⠀ now playing . . ☆

생각⠀my girlfriend! my! girlfriend! thnku isa for inspiring me to write this he’s kind of the only thing important ever

you hadn’t really been properly asleep anyway, having drifted off in a half-slumber after scrolling mindlessly on your phone for a while, and you supposed that was why the sudden sound of it ringing from its place still loosely clasped in your hand woke you up so easily. everything was still vaguely blurry when you pushed yourself onto your elbows, squinting hard in order to see the name of the contact flashing across your screen. mark met your eyes, and you flopped backwards onto your mattress before tapping the accept button and then pressing the same hand to your mouth to stifle a yawn.

“are you awake?”

you pulled the phone back from your ear to aim a slightly incredulous look at it, even if you knew your best friend would’ve been none the wiser to the expression.

“i mean, i am now. what is it, markles? did you forget something?”

mark stumbled over his next words, muttering them under his breath more than anything. “no, but.. ah, nevermind, dude, it’s fine. i don’t know why i called.”

you sat up slightly in your bed, ignoring the slight chill the blanket falling away from yourself gave you, eyebrows furrowed a little in concern at the unsure tone of your friend. “mark? what’s up?”

he started to say something more but cut himself off, words trailing off into nothing. it was silent on the phone for a few moments then, only the sound of your shared faint breathing coming through the lines until he finally got his words together and spoke up properly.

“i’m, um. i’m outside your apartment.”

that woke you up fully, eyes widening a little as you stood up out of your bed, leaving it unmade as you padded over to your window and looked down more than a few floors to the street outside—where, if you squinted, you could almost make out mark’s figure lit up by the streetlights and standing alone on the pavement, recognisable mostly by his familiar fleece jacket.

“what the fuck, mark? i’ll buzz you in, come on. you must be freezing, i don’t—why are you over here so late? did donghyuck sexile you, or something?”

you stayed at the window just long enough to watch his small head shake before moving over to your door in order to let him up, shivering again with the now complete lack of your blanket.

“nah, he’s at jeno’s. i just.. i don’t know. i missed you, man.”

the words made you stop in your tracks, for a second. his voice was small, but it sounded sincere—and it was sincere, you knew it was, because mark couldn’t have told a lie even if he was paid to do it. had been earnest since before he knew what it meant. you covered how choked up you suddenly felt by scoffing, depsite it sounding weak even to your own ears.

“yah, you sweet talker, you probably just want me to make you a hot chocolate. get up here already, hm?”

his laugh was barely that, sounded more like an exhale of air than anything, but you were glad for it all the same. quiet fell over the two of you again, but this time it was more comfortable, with only the idle sounds of the elevator and his footfalls coming all the way to your door.

“see you in a sec,” was all you murmured through the line before hanging up and shoving your phone into the pocket of your sweats, fiddling with the lock on the door for a moment, another, before it was finally open and mark was standing before you.

he looked tired—you weren’t surprised, seeing the last time you checked it was creeping past two in the morning—but his mouth still curved up into a small smile that you mirrored with ease, beckoning him in and pushing the door shut behind him, reaching out with the tips of your fingers to slide the lock into place.

“so what’s up, markl—“

before the nickname could fully pass your lips mark was falling into you, head finding solace tucked into the crook of your neck hands coming up to loosely grip onto the fabric of your shirt on your waist. his fingertips were red from the cold, but his cheek was hot from where it was resting on your shoulder.

“can we.. go t’bed?”

it was just as mumbled as it’d been over the phone, but this time a lot louder—he was right next to your ear, after all, the periodic soft exhales hitting your skin causing little shivers running across it that weren’t from the chill, this time. you simply nodded in answer to his request and attempted to detach yourself from his grip to walk him over to your unmade (but comfortable, you defended to yourself) mess of a bed, but mark made a vaguely whiny noise of protest and clung onto you tighter.

your laugh came out a little too high in the dead silence of your apartment, hoping even if mark did notice the way your ears burned a little hotter that he’d be kind enough (or tired enough, at least) not to bring it up as you slowly walked him to the sheets, trying not to trip up on his feet shuffling backwards, trying not to focus on the way he felt so malleable in your careful hold.

“take this off,” you murmured lowly once you’d reached the foot of your bed, tugging gently at the fleece he was still wearing and trying not to cringe at how suggestive your words sounded even if your intentions were innocent. you focused on nudging at his feet, too, where his shoes were still on. “and these. you’re not putting your dirty trainers anywhere near my blanket, markles, for real.”

“mm.” was all he hummed in reply, but didn’t move from his spot. you were ready to do it for him if it came down to it, but before you could reach for the zipper of his jacket he taking half a step back, barely out of your space, and doing it himself. they were left lying idle on your floor once he’d rid himself of both the offending items, but you figured they’d be just fine for a night—it wasn’t like you didn’t have a few hoodies and jeans doing exactly the same thing while you avoided putting them away properly for a day or two longer.

where you stopped in your place once he had deemed himself ready go, unsure of what move to make next, mark had no such qualms. he let himself fall back onto your sheets and got himself comfortable like they were his own, the way his brow furrowed when he didn’t see you following a clear indication of what he wanted you to do, and you found yourself being able to do nothing but comply with his wishes, slipping in next to him after abandoning your phone on the bedside table.

the lights were faint, streetlights only just shining in through your window, but you could still see his brown eyes trained on your own as you led there face-to-face. you tried to speak but, embarrassingly enough, your throat failed you, and so you only tried again after turning to the side for a moment to clear it.

“are you okay?”

the smile was back. still small, still sincere. “i am now.” and. oh. mark was so—lovely, sometimes. all the time. you didn’t know what to do. but it seemed you didn’t need to, because then he was turning over, away from you, and then shifting backwards until it was all too clear right where he wanted you.

and so, swallowing back the way you felt choked up for the second that evening, you shuffled closer and slung an arm over his hip, feeling him relax under your touch almost instantly. it was more than just your blankets providing you with warmth, now. mark had always run a little hotter.

“night, markles.“ you mumbled half-into the nape of his neck, lips almost brushing his skin. there was a light sound as he tossed a hand back to find where yours was resting on his side and squeezed once. twice.

“see you t’morrow, ynnie.”

and that was all it needed to be. a boy in your arms, both in your bed. sharing warmth until the sunlight pouring in through your windows would force you to leave it. as simple as that.

#⠀⠀⏖ works ⊹ ᶻ ⁺⠀⠀#⠀⠀마크 ⠀ ♪⠀⠀#mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream fluff #he is sooooo this song im in love with him a little bit

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helvegen-s · 19 hours

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Rage, rage | six

index

Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC

Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.

Warnings: fighting, mentions of ptsd, just some fluff, enemies becoming friends and becoming lovers

Days and weeks passed, and Nimue found different ways to entertain herself and pass the time.

She had learned to appreciate Nesta's company, Feyre's older sister, with whom she spent long hours in silence, reading, sitting side by side in the library. She was a rough and direct person, but there was something that made them understand and fit together, like two sides of the same coin. Perhaps it was the fact that both had been inside the Cauldron that made Nimue understand her attitude, even though the others didn't.

She also spent long hours sitting with Rhysand. Sometimes Feyre, Morrigan, Amren, Cassian were present. Never Azriel.

They asked questions, and she answered the best she could: where the bulk of Hybern's forces were located, how many troops it had, who supported the King among Prythian's courts, what he was going to do with the Cauldron...

For many, she didn't have the answer, and she couldn't ignore that feeling of uselessness when she shrugged at their questions. She should have known all that. Her father didn't trust her in the slightest, not even to entrust her with the most absurd of information.

She had also started spending time with Amren, with whom she could spend hours and hours talking about the world, about magic, about how everything was related. They shared their own perspectives on the world, as Nimue found in the small female an equal: two ancient and powerful minds trapped in bodies that were too small for them.

However, the knowledge that Amren transmitted to her about Prythian's history was incredibly vast. Yes, Nimue had knowledge of the things the Cauldron had transmitted to her, but she still had so much to learn that she couldn't help but tremble with excitement.

On the other hand, Nimue also felt drawn to the fragile Elain. Like with Nesta, she felt a connection with the female, due to her relationship with the Cauldron. The Cauldron itself had said it, it had given her two sisters, and Nimue felt her chest swell just thinking about it.

According to Nesta, the Elain she saw now was a mere shadow of what she had always been in reality: a sweet and bright girl, warm like the spring sun, but extinguished by the traumatic experience of the Cauldron.

However, on rare occasions, when she and Nesta sat in silence reading in the company of the quiet and lost Elain, Nimue would look up from the book to find the middle sister smiling at her, a smile that the princess gladly returned.

On the other hand, she had begun to forge a sweet and slow friendship with Feyre: they sat together to have tea (Cassian had taught her, what a wonderful beverage), and the brunette told her story, from the harsh poverty and through Tamlin and the Spring Court, to Rhysand and the Inner Circle.

Nimue couldn't help but marvel at seeing Azriel through Feyre's eyes, as she told her what she had experienced with them.

She was gaining everyone's trust little by little, building it day by day with small demonstrations. However, Azriel kept slipping away.

Sometimes she felt a flash of something on the other end of the bond: joy, anger, disappointment, surprise. She supposed it was moments when Azriel let his guard down and his emotions escaped through the invisible thread that connected them.

When she crossed paths with him in the hallways, he simply looked away and walked past. When everyone in the house gathered for dinner and they coincided next to each other, Azriel didn't open his mouth all night or engaged in conversation with whoever was on his other side.

Nimue wanted to get closer to him. She wanted to know him, to see him with the eyes with which Feyre saw him: a loyal and good male to the core, willing to sacrifice everything for his people and with incredible insight. A trained warrior with a dark past that Feyre didn't tell her much about.

So she began to get up before the Sun shone in the sky. She dressed appropriately and cheerfully made her way to the training field that Cassian had shown her. There, every morning without fail, she found the two Illyrian males training: with swords, with spears, with daggers, with fists...

Every time Cassian saw her cross the training yard's gate, he couldn't help but burst into laughter. On the other hand, Azriel rolled his eyes and was already in a bad mood for everything he had left to do that morning.

But he couldn't help but think how funny the situation was, seeing Nimue arrive there morning after morning, sit and watch them train with a sweet smile on her face, sometimes with her gaze lost following some birds flying around her.

Azriel wanted to be angry. He wanted not to trust her, he wanted to see her as an enemy, he wanted to convince himself that she wasn't clean.

But it was so, so difficult for him.

It was so difficult for him to convince himself that she was a spy for her father. Especially when he caught her alone in the hallways of the house, asking out loud for any kind of sweet or cake and eating it as if it were the first in her life. Especially when he saw her reading silently in the library, next to Nesta and with a smile on her face for whatever she was reading.

Especially, when at dinners he caught her staring at him, with furrowed brows. Azriel pretended not to notice. But he always saw her on the other side of the table, oblivious to all the conversations around her, gripping the knife and fork and staring at him, with that expression of incomprehension that reminded him so much of a sulky child.

He wanted to maintain that facade and not give in. But it was so difficult for him to ignore that feeling, that pressure in his chest every time he saw her, every time he perceived her scent of sea salt and belladonna poison in the house's rooms.

Especially at night when he got into bed, he found it hard to ignore the emotions that slipped through the bond: half asleep and with his guard down, Nimue let out such waves of loneliness and melancholy from her end of the bond that sometimes Azriel felt like he was going to cry himself.

So, one morning, amidst the thick morning fog and the singing of the newly awakened birds, he headed towards Nimue on the training field, under Cassian's surprised gaze.

"Why don't you show us how you fight in Hybern?" he said. Nimue stood up like a spring, her face tinged with excitement. Azriel had to take several deep breaths to assimilate the amount of joy that went straight to his chest. He cleared his throat, "Just to know what to expect in case of a battle."

"Of course."

Nimue walked up to Cassian, who volunteered to fight against the princess first.

"No magic, just hand-to-hand combat. I must also add that I don't usually fight against women, but it doesn't mean I'm going to–"

Cassian hadn't finished speaking when Nimue gave him a series of blows so fast that not even Azriel could register: first stomach, then knees, neck, and finally a finishing blow that left the Illyrian lying face down on the ground and groaning.

Azriel let out a laugh almost without thinking, and when he felt Nimue's gaze on him, he did everything to hide it.

"For the Mother," Cassian coughed, getting up as best he could from the ground. "Warn before."

"If I warned you, it would lose all the fun," she said, smiling. She turned to the Shadowsinger and pointed at him with her finger, "Now you, pretty face."

Azriel felt a chill run from his heels to his crown, and swallowed to prevent his thoughts from wandering further.

Around his shoulders and wings, his shadows fluttered as they laughed softly.

How funny she is.

Yes, very funny.

And pretty.

Yes, we want to touch her and smell her. She smells really good.

Azriel clicked his tongue and shook his head, heading towards the princess. He positioned himself at a safe distance to avoid a surprise attack like the one she had used with Cassian, and in a defensive stance, he couldn't help but give her a wicked smile.

"You'll see what this pretty face is capable of."

At a speed only a fully trained soldier could move, Nimue traced a parabola towards Azriel, approaching from his left side and crouching to avoid any counterattack. He prepared to receive the blow, contracting the muscles of his abdomen.

But the blow never came.

Nimue fell to her knees, fists raised just an inch from Azriel's body.

"I can't," she whispered. She dropped her arms to her sides and stood up, face to face with Azriel. "I'm physically unable to harm you. I can't."

Azriel frowned, internalizing every feature of the female: the arch of her eyebrows, the angle of her eyes, the light of the first rays of the sun reflected in her iris, that slight tremor on the left side of her lip that he had noticed occurred when she was tense...

He never had the pleasure to be this close to her, the only times such a thing happened he was so blinded by rage that he couldn't appreciate such a raw beauty.

He snapped out of his reverie and entered back into that mental state of combat.

Taking advantage of Nimue's distraction, he prepared to aim a direct punch at her jaw.

But just an inch away, his body stopped completely, as dictated by a greater force.

Stop.

His hand immediately unclenched, and under his own gaze, he saw how his body acted alone and by instinct: as if drawn by a magnet, his own hand rested on Nimue's cheek, who buried her face further in that sudden contact.

They held each other's gaze, unable to act upon that pure and raw instinct. Azriel's hand on Nimue's face, his thumb tempting fate on the corner of the princess's lip.

Even through the leather glove, he could feel the warmth emanating from Nimue, like that of a bonfire on a cold winter night.

The princess raised her right hand, gripping the Shadowsinger's forearm and ensuring he didn't stop touching her.

She didn't want him to ever stop.

No one had ever touched her like that, with pure warmth. She felt like she was burning wherever the male touched her.

She didn't want Azriel to ever stop touching her.

But Azriel snapped out of his reverie, again, and as fast as lightning, he moved away from the female, breaking all physical contact.

At his side, the hand that had felt the sweet touch of her skin kept clenching, as if asking for more.

Such soft skin.

Let's touch it again.

He had gone too far, letting himself be carried away by the raw instinct that bond imposed on him.

Yes, it had to be that.

He definitely didn't want to get lost again in the gray eyes of that female, clear as the light of the brightest star in the sky.

Definitely not.

Feeling the heat rise to his face, he hurried to leave the training field before his own shadows came up with the Mother knows what, leaving behind a confused Nimue.

What had just happened?

What had all that been about, why had it felt so natural, so good?

Cassian had watched the whole scene, apart, with his mouth shut and thinking about who he would run to tell first: Feyre or Morrigan.

Maybe both at the same time.

Taglist:

@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @saltedcoffeescotch @krowiathemythologynerd @donttellthecats @annblvd @annamariereads16 @crazylokonugget @smoooothoperator

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #azriel #azriel imagine #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #cassian #rhysand #azriel x female!reader

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pinkie-pop · 2 days

Text

"Reincarnated As The Cringefail Lord of Hell's Second Child."

Part I Part || Part III

Sequel to this.

Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Morningstar! Reader, Platonic Hazbin Hotel x Reader, Yandere Hazbin Hotel

Word count: 2.7k

Includes: Alastor being creepy, invasion of (your) privacy, bad things are coming...

Synopsis: A straightforward isekai story, you're reborn as the devil's child. With knowledge of your past life and the show your new world is based on, it's clear that you must be destined for greatness. The only question remains: why does everyone around you seem to be acting so...strange?

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

There's nothing better than the payoff that a successful scheme brings. Vaggie returns to the hotel a few hours after your talk with her, and with her is a pair of two gorgeous angelic wings.

“Wait, yer an exorcist?!” Angel exclaims, throwing his top arms up, and using his bottom pair to pull himself up from his position on the couch. “How did I not know about this?!” He looks around, shaking his head wildly. Husk merely shrugs.

“Maybe if you weren't high all the time-”

“Oh, yeah, like yer one to talk, Mr. Hasn't-been-seen-without-a-bottle-in-seven-years!”

Charlie claps her hands together, effectively stopping the two before their banter turns into an actual fight. “Okay, so Vaggie's an angel, that doesn't mean that-”

“Oh yeah, easy for you to say, Princess. I bet ya already knew about this, didn't ya?”

“I mean, I did. But-!”

“Then why didn't ya say anything?!”

“It wasn't my place to-”

Angel dramatically falls back onto the couch. Odd, you think, his reaction wasn't nearly this strong in the show, why is he- “Whatever. I need a drink,” he says getting up. “Husk! Pour me a drink!” Husk grumbles something under his breath as Angel passes you to get his drink.

“I think he's over it,” you say, glancing over your shoulder at Angel, who is drinking straight from the bottle. “So, an angel, huh? How exciting! My dad was an angel, too, y'know?” Vaggie looks unimpressed at your attempt to pretend this is new information, but you ignore her.

“Yeah…I know,” she says flatly. “Anyway, Carmilla agreed to supply us with angelic weapons at a discounted price, should we need them.”

“Why would we need them?” Charlie asks, looking worried. Vaggie looks away, briefly making eye contact with you.

‘Something’s going to happen on extermination day,’ you say, looking oddly certain.

“Just…in case,” she says, offering an unsure smile.

“Well ain't that fuckin’ ominous,” Angel pipes up from the bar. “Care ta enlighten us as ta why we might need em, toots? Something a little less vague than ‘Just in case'?” Angel puts down his drink (which is really just a whole bottle of what appears to be a mix of tequila and vodka—it’s a good thing he's already dead, you think to yourself) to make air quotes with his hand.

“Angel, I think you're drunk,” you say, diffusing the situation. “You're slurring your words.” He's not, but you figure the statement will draw his attention towards you and away from Vaggie. You don't need him prying and accidentally figuring out something he shouldn't know.

“Am not slurin’ my words” He slurs, then slumps over, immediately falling asleep in an almost cartoonish fashion. Well, you suppose you are in a cartoon, you think to yourself, but you know that's not the reason for his sudden drunken state.

No, you're sure the sleeping spell you cast on him was by far the more likely cause.

Alastor, who had been quietly observing the whole time, widens his grin with a look that seems to say ‘I know you did that’ but you ignore his gaze and ask Charlie for help taking Angel back to his room.

While Charlie is busy tucking a grown man into bed, you slip out of the room and bump right into Alastor, who seems to have followed the two of you back to Angel's room.

You have a bad feeling about this. Of all the many characters in Hazbin Hotel to avoid, Alastor probably ranked at the top of your list. You really don't need him getting curious about you.

“Why, hello there, little one,” he says, peering down at you. You think his eyes may be glowing, but you aren't sure.

“Uh, hi?” you say, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. You glance back at the door. Charlie will be emerging from it soon. She'll save you, right?

“I couldn't help but notice the little ‘stunt’ you pulled with dear Angel Dust earlier—quite amusing, I must say! And I don't say that lightly. Might I ask you to join me on a stroll so that we might…discuss it?” He asks. You swear the room’s temperature just dropped.

“I'm not going anywhere with you,” you say. “Dad told me not to talk to strangers.”

“Ah, still playing the role of an innocent child now, are we?” He says casually. You stand a little straighter. “Not to worry, I'm a good friend of your sister, and besides, we have much to discuss!”

“We don't have anything to ‘discuss’,” You say firmly, moving to walk past him when he grabs your arm.

“You may not have anything to discuss with me, but I have much to say to you,” he says. His tone then shifts to something more dangerous as he says, “And believe me,” he leans down to your level. “You don't want to see me when I get angry.” It's a cliché line and not at all scary. Even with the voodoo sigils floating around him and his radio-knob irises, you hold firm.

“If I scream, Charlie and the rest of the hotel will hear me,” you say. The static around you dissipates, and Alastor's grin twitches in annoyance.

“Very well,” he says, swinging his cane and turning to leave. “But this won't be our last encounter. Sooner or later, you'll give me the answers I want.” And just like that, he walks away.

Once he's out of view, you sink to your knees. Despite your firm insistence that he didn't scare you, it was stressful nonetheless. Having him leave merely sucked the stress out of you, and momentarily took the strength from your legs.

Yes, that's right. That's all it was. Your human nature makes you wary of him, but your demonic side keeps you steady. Soon, you'll be more demon than human, and this so-called ‘fear’ will be nothing more than a fleeting memory.

Not that you were scared.

“[Name]…? What are you doing on the floor?”

“It's comfortable down here,” you mutter, standing to your feet. “I'm going to bed early tonight. Where's my room again?”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

You flop on to your and Lucifer's bed (king-sized, thanks to Lucifer's magic), exhausted. You bring your stuffed demon bear (Mr. Snuggles—a gift from Lilith, before she left) to your chest and sigh. You close your eyes. A lot happened today, and you could use some rest.

But before that…

You open your eyes and sit upright, swinging your legs over the bed and standing. You walk to the small writing desk by the door and summon your diary from seemingly thin air, and begin writing. Journaling is a habit you formed as soon as you were able to hold a pen (this has left the first few entries of your diary completely illegible, but you were able to transcribe them once you had developed a steadier hand), and something you kept up to this day. You document today’s events, making sure to note Alastor’s suspicious behavior, then close and lock your diary. It’s a rather unnecessary step, considering you’ll be sending it back to the subspace you summoned it from, but the lock puts you at ease regardless.

You’ve just finished clicking the lock back into place when Lucifer walks in.

“What’s that?” He asks curiously, walking over to take a peek. Without thinking of how suspicious your actions may come across, you quickly dismiss the journal back to your subspace.

“Nothing!” You say, a tad too loudly. You clear your throat. “Nothing,” you say, quieter, this time. Lucifer opens his mouth to speak, and you realize you need to change the subject, and fast. “Um, I just realized we didn't bring any clothes with us. If we're going to be staying here, we'll need to get some.” Lucifer seems to hesitate before taking your bait, using magic to summon your wardrobe from the palace to the hotel’s drawers. You pick out a pair of pajamas and head to the bathroom to change, while Lucifer uses magic to change his own clothes instantly. When you return, he's already in bed, smiling and eagerly patting the space next to him.

Wait…what's in his hand?

You take a closer look.

Isn't that…?

Oh God.

Oh fuck.

“Dad, I don't-”

“C'mon, sweetie, let me read you a bedtime story!” He says, opening the book of fairytales, eyes practically shining. It's endearing, in a way, the way he constantly tries to be a good father to you. But it's also annoying. You're a grown adult, for Christ's sake. You don't want to be read a bedtime story.

But it's not like you can just tell him that.

“...Okay,” you say, climbing up to the bed and nestling yourself beside him.

It's surprisingly soothing. A hellish retelling of Cinderella, spoken to you in a soft, rhythmic voice. It reminds you of ASMR, in a way. You find yourself drifting off to sleep before you even realize you're tired.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

[Name] fell asleep.

It’s not surprising, the story Lucifer read to you is known to make children sleepy. Still, he was half-expecting it to fail, or for you to refuse to listen to a story altogether.

You look so young, curled up like this. So innocent.

You look like a kid.

Lucifer’s stomach churns. What were you writing about? He knows he should respect your privacy, but…

Something tells him it’s important. He’s seen you write in that notebook before. He knows it’s a diary.

He shouldn’t read it.

He shouldn’t but…

Lucifer taps into the subspace you’ve been using (you may be unusually good at magic for your age, but you’re still a novice. You haven’t learned to secure your network yet.). He pulls out your diary but pauses when he sees the lock.

He could open it with nothing more than a wave of his hand if he wanted to (and God, he did want to). But it feels wrong. Like he’s encroaching on something sacred.

If he puts it back now, nothing will change. He’ll stay ignorant. You’ll keep your secrets. But your relationship won’t be affected. The two of you will go back to playing family, and he’ll never know what’s so important to you that you created a private network and a lock to keep it hidden.

He could do that, but…

He opens the diary. The first few pages are impossible to decipher, but pages 6 and onwards are legible.

October 3rd, 20XX

This is a transcription of the following days: September1st, September 9th, September 16th, and September 22nd.

‘September 1st…? They couldn’t have been older than a month old when this was written,’ Lucifer thinks. Demons develop themselves faster than humans, but even by a demons standard, learning to read and write within just a month of being born is…unheard of.

Lucifer keeps reading.

September 1st, 20XX

I’m finally strong enough to crawl around and hold a pen. Thank goodness. Being trapped in a body you can’t control with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company is pure torture. Though, I suppose this is hell. Perhaps that was the point…? No, if that were the case, I’d never be able to walk and write, let alone so fast. I haven’t been able to keep track of the days, and the clocks are all too high to read, so I have no idea how long I’ve been here, but I saw a calendar hanging in the kitchen. I hope it’s up to date.

I was able to pinch myself today, but it didn’t hurt. I’d count it as evidence that I’m in a dream but…well, it could also just mean that I’m too weak for it to work. I’ll try again once I’m a little bigger.

Dreams don’t usually last this long, do they? Perhaps I’m in a coma. I must’ve gotten into a horrible accident, and I’m on the verge of death. This is just my brain spitting out random information from my subconscious. That’s why Lucifer and Lilith are here. That’s why I’m in Hazbin Hotel. It can’t be anything else.

Lucifer furrows his eyebrows. How did you know about the hotel, seven years before its opening?

September 9th, 20XX

Lilith gave me a Teddy bear today. She called it a hell bear. It’s cute, and something I probably would have kept in my room before all this. It’s less babyish than the rest of the things she’s given me. Lucifer named it for me. Mr. Snuggles, he says, in a mock baby voice. It’s bad. I know I’m in the body of a baby right now, but it still feels a little belittling whenever he does that. I used to pay taxes, you know! Sure, I liked cute things every now and again, but I was still a bona fide working adult. …Mr. Snuggles is a cute name, though.

A working adult? Taxes? You thought his baby voice was stupid?

Okay, maybe that last one was less important, but still. Ouch.

September 16th, 20XX

I finally found the library. Goodbye, boredom!

Lack of proper stimulation was slowly killing me. If I were an actual baby, the mobile and fairytales would probably have been enough to keep me sated, but, well, you know.

Anyway, the novels I’ve been reading lately have been pretty good, I think I’m able to more or less pick out which ones belonged to who. Mostly by the way they’re organized. The novels stored in the shelves under the staircase all have happy endings and sappy romance, they seem to be Charlie’s. The stories near the front have badass female protagonists and are usually crime mysteries and thrillers, probably belonging to Lilith. The informationals on various animals and other special interests are likely Lucifer’s. And the books in the very back…are all pornography. I’m not sure whose those are, and I’m not really sure I want to know.

Lucifer’s face turns bright red, and he nearly squeaks, but he manages to reel himself in and continue reading.

September 22nd 20XX

I’m able to crawl up stairs now. The second floor of the library is filled with Grimores. They contain complicated mathematical formulas and intricate sigils. I’ve done the math over and over, but I can’t seem to find any flaws with them. I’m not smart enough to have come up with the formulas on my own, so unless I’m doing something wrong, there’s a pretty good chance that this isn’t a dream after all.

Come to think of it, you’re not supposed to be able to read in dreams, either.

…I just pinched myself. Ouch.

Lucifer’s mind is racing. Nothing about this makes sense, and yet it explains so much, and yet—

He flips the page.

October 4th, 20XX

It took me a few days, but I’ve finally accepted this as my new reality. I’ve transmigrated into the body of [Name], a never before seen and likely nonexistent character of Hazbin Hotel, who just so happens to share the same name as myself.

It’s…a tough pill to swallow. I miss my family, my friends, my home.

I may never be able to go back. But I have to try. I’ll read every grimore in the library, even the ones written in ancient languages, I’ll find a way to translate them, I’ll learn the language if I have to. Whatever it takes, I will see this done. I can’t give up. Even if I have to lose what it means to be human, even if I have to become a demon, that’s okay, once I’m back, I can relearn what it means to be human. There’s so much I haven’t done back on Earth. So much I’ve never seen. So much I’ve never done, never said. I have too many regrets to just sit back and accept this.

I’ll find a way home.

You’re…leaving?

Home? You’re already home. This is your home now. These past seven years, have they all been a lie? Did it really mean nothing to you? Did he mean nothing to you?

Sure, you’ve always been distant, always been a bit too mature, but you were still a child. You were still his child.

Weren’t you?

You’re…going to leave. To throw him away. Just like Lilith.

No, he can’t lose you too. He won’t. He’ll find a way to stop you.

Even if it means you can’t smile the way you used to, even if it means you don’t love him the same. He has to keep you.

But he can’t do it alone.

Tucking the diary under his arm, Lucifer is careful not to wake you as he leaves your shared bedroom.

Taglist: @Halparkebitch @American-idiot21 @Toast-on-dandelioms @Mixplarab @aria-tempest @nirvana5874 @arsonist-on-fire @dollsgate @shoebillcuicui @galaxywing-has-adhd @sakuraluna2468 @luckywitchsong @ibcreations-blog @heather-hutchcroft @thoughtfulbananaduckcroissant @bee814 @deadgirldreaming @reikamasama @pandaquick

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin angel dust #angel dust #vaggie #yandere lucifer #yandere alastor

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kurtcobainindresses · 2 days

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my take on challengers

1. not about the movie itself but i'm so excited for what seems to be the first occurrence of monoculture in a while it's so fun to all be talking about the same thing and it not being t swizzle related

2. i'm so sorry for this but i don't think zendaya has enough gravitas to carry the movie. like she's very good as the alluring figure you're attracted to right away but as soon as she starts speaking i can see the wheels turning in her head and it's clear to me she's not embodying the character as a person with a past and memories as much as emulating whatever emotion tashi's supposed to feel in a given scene. this is even worse in the "present timeline" scenes like i just did not get 30yo mom who is bitter and dissatisfied and weary at all her body language was the exact same in every timeline when she's supposed to be at very different stages in her life

3. continuation of the preceding point but there's no triangle if all three relationships aren't equally as entrancing!!!! and to me the scenes between art and patrick were a 100% more interesting than any of the scenes they had with tashi individually unfortunately. i just didn't get anything from zendaya

4. i like that the attraction between art and patrick was implied BUT it could have been taken further imo. we see patrick swiping (left or right i don't remember) on a guy on tinder so we know there's something going on there but what about art???? are we just supposed to think tashi repressed him so bad he just forgot about it??? (and yeah the final scene yada yada. i know. but still it felt like it still went unacknowledged for quite a while)

5. some of the editing choices were bad ie. the timestamps which were unnecessary after the first time (we could tell by the length of their hair!!!) and the slomo at certain points (when tashi was walking down the alleyway like it was a runway with her fuckass bob 😭😭😭)

6. the score fucks trent reznor and atticus finch you will always be famous

7. josh o'connor. how do you do it

8. blood orange during the almost threesome was so good. i need to know who is responsible for this

9. the non-chronological storytelling got kind of cheap for me at the end. it kinda did a disservice to the movie because it made it hinge on a bunch of big reveals we all had guessed a while ago so quite unnecessary in my opinion (and yes i know the back and forth is supposed to mirror a tennis match but to me this is style over substance and not in an interesting or original way)

10. all in all this is a fun movie but not quite all it's made out to be.....i think it could've been stellar if we'd had a real trio and a real presence at the center of the movie which i don't think zendaya can be quite yet!!! but ykw. we let keanu do it twenty years ago and we're letting john david washington do it now so zendaya should be allowed to as well!

#i'm being annoying on main but this is simply too important not to post #and i want to know what you guys think #challengers

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loveyouanyway · 8 hours

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i'll kiss your scars

buck x eddie | 900 words | teen rating

prompt: trans buck for @steadfastsaturnsrings 🥰 💖

“But y-you like men.” “Yes I do. Particularly the amazing and gorgeous man in front of me.” Buck stumbles across his words, all flustered. “But Eddie, I’m not— like I don’t have a you know.” He glances down there. “That doesn’t make you any less of a man, Buck." or Buck tells Eddie that he's trans and things change between them, but for the better.

read on ao3 or below :)

Buck, Eddie and Christopher are enjoying their dinner together in comfortable silence.

Christopher finishes his plate of spaghetti and meatballs first and now that he’s not eating, the silence feels weird so he speaks up.

“I’m not the only Christopher in my class anymore.”

Eddie hums. “Oh new student?”

“Nope. His name used to be Chloe but now it’s Christopher.”

Eddie and Buck look to each other in understanding.

“So he’s…”

“Trans. Yeah, it’s not a big deal, Dad. Now people just call me Chris and him Christopher.”

“How did people react?” Buck asks curiously.

“Everyone was cool about it. Some people had questions though so Christopher answered them. Then Mr. Nolan told everyone that he will not tolerate any transphobia or homophobia but he’s happy to tell us more about it. And if we ever have to talk to him about it, we can.”

Buck blinks back tears thinking how happy he is that in school, kids can come out and people will be supportive or at least respectful enough that they won’t say anything negative. He thinks about how bad it would be if he came out in middle school. He’s so glad Christopher has a teacher like Mr. Nolan.

He should probably tell Eddie that he’s trans. It’s been over a year since they’ve been friends. He knows Eddie will be accepting and everything but it’s still difficult. He doesn’t want anything to change between them.

“Buck?” Eddie and nudges his foot with his own under the table.

“You okay?” he asks.

Buck quickly nods. “Yeah no I’m good.”

Eddie thankfully doesn’t push and instead asks what movie they should watch tonight.

—

They watch Spiderman: Into the Spider-Verse and Buck suggests they watch the second one next movie night which Christopher enthusiastically agrees to.

Christopher gets ready for bed reluctantly and Buck reads him a chapter of Percy Jackson. Eddie watches them with a sickening fond smile.

Once the chapter’s done, he and Eddie both hug Christopher and tell him “good night” and Buck yearns for him to have this every night.

They walk into the living room and Buck plops onto the couch with a sigh.

Eddie sits down next to Buck and faces him.

“Hey, you know that you can tell me anything, right?” he says earnestly with his stupidly pretty eyes looking him in the eye.

Buck breaks eye contact and nods. “Yeah of course, uh thanks.”

Eddie doesn’t reply as if he’s hoping Buck will say more.

“Just give me a moment.” he adds and to that Eddie hums and rests his hand on Buck’s thigh. Oh god. This isn’t helping his nerves.

Buck takes a deep breath. “I’m trans.”

A second passes.

“Thanks for telling me.” Eddie smiles, trying to act like he didn’t know this but Buck sees past it.

“You already knew. How?”

“I saw your testosterone gel thing in the bathroom once. I guess you forgot to put it away like you usually do,” Eddie answers softly.

“You’re not mad I didn’t tell you?”

“Of course not, Buck. You don’t owe me anything regarding that.”

“We’ve been best friends for months.”

“Yeah well did I come out to you as cis? No. Besides gender is fucking stupid. Am I even a man?”

Buck sighs. He supposes Eddie has a valid point.

“Uh, while we’re talking about more serious topics, I have something to tell you,” Eddie admits.

Buck doesn’t have enough time to panic before Eddie calmly says “I’m in love with you.”

Is this a fucking dream? Buck doesn’t know what to say. “I- What do you mean?”

Eddie continues, “Yeah that was one of the factors in the whole me discovering my sexuality process. Hen called me out so many times about my gay panic for you.”

“But y-you like men.”

“Yes I do. Particularly the amazing and gorgeous man in front of me.”

Buck stumbles across his words, all flustered. “But Eddie, I’m not— like I don’t have a you know.” He glances down there.

“That doesn’t make you any less of a man, Buck. I know how I feel about you. I love you beyond your body but I mean, I really love your body and I hope I can make you feel safe and comfortable with it.”

Yeah this is a fucking dream come true.

Eddie lifts up the bottom of his shirt. “Can I…”

Buck has no idea what he’s about to do but he’ll let Eddie do anything to him. That probably should be concerning but he doesn’t care.

“Yeah,” he says with a shaky breath.

Eddie gently takes Buck’s shirt (which actually belonged to Eddie originally) and looks at him with such adoration, it makes Buck want to cry.

He lowers his head and brings his lips to Buck’s top surgery scars. He softly kisses along the two lines, whispering “I love you” after each kiss.

Now Buck is crying. He is just so overwhelmed with love—both his love for Eddie and feeling so loved by Eddie. He manages to say, “I love you” back before the tears make unable to speak coherently

Of course Eddie understands and doesn’t tell him “No it’s okay don’t cry,” instead he embraces him into a hug that makes Buck feel all warm and fuzzy — like all hugs from Eddie do.

They stay there, holding each other and Buck realizes things have changed between them but in the best way possible.

#also yeah at first i just put mr nolan and then i was gonna change it but i couldn't come up with anything so i am christopher's teacher 😌#nolan writes #my fics #buddie fic #911 fic #911 abc #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #trans buck #buck and eddie #buck x eddie

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daydreamtofiction · 3 days

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I just wanted to explain why I've been absent for so long. I know I'm constantly going on unplanned hiatuses and coming back with excuses for why I'm not posting but I'm aware this one's been particularly long.

So just over a month ago, my partner of eleven years, fiancé, father of my children, came home from work one random Tuesday night and told me he was leaving me. It was completely out of the blue, unexpected and blindsiding. I've spent the past month getting to grips with this new normal; being a single parent, clearing his belongings from the house, putting on a brave face for my kids while dealing with the heartbreak and confusion of this situation, and trying to figure out how the hell I'm going to survive financially after losing the main household income.

As ever, I appreciate everyone always being so understanding and patient with me when I do these disappearing acts. I prefer to keep my personal life separate from this online world I've created, but this situation has pretty much bled into every facet of my being - I can't not mention it. I want to mention it.

I'm starting to adjust now, feeling the enthusiasm and desire to do things for myself coming back. And the biggest thing I do for myself is write. Creating my fics is honestly one of my only solaces and something that brings me so much joy and comfort. This is an escape for me, and right now I need an escape more than ever. So after I press publish on this post, I'm going straight into writing the latest instalment of Thou.

I know this is heavy and probably a massive overshare so I apologise in advance to anyone who reads this lmao. I suppose I just needed to put it out there, maybe somewhat selfishly as I haven't made this info public in my real life (besides with family). So please don't feel obliged to comment, simply enjoying my fics when they come out is more than enough support (and if any of you win the lottery, you could always cut me in 😉😂)

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dandelions-143 · 2 days

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Who’s Gonna Hold You like me? Nofuckinbody

Part 1

This one’s kind of sad/dramatic but there will be more parts to it.

Pairing: Idol Changbin x f!reader

Genre: Friends to Friends with benefits to nothing

Warnings: not much, cussing, a little drinking, it just ends sad… for now

Summary: You’re friends with Idol Changbin. You spend as much time together as possible. It’s always a fun time with him. Late nights sneaking out doing things you know would get you both in trouble but, it also feels like Changbin is stringing you along in some ways and it gets to you… coming to a bow up after so long of holding it in.

Masterlist

(Did not proofread… sorry!! Also likes and reblogs are highly appreciated!!)

He had all the car windows down. The wind combing through your hair. The music was up loud and he was speeding down the coast towards the beach. You looked over and a ghost of a smile played upon his lips. He was beautiful, sweet, gentle, and a little wild. Changbin was not suppose to be out right now, he had a busy schedule as an idol. A strict schedule nearly daily and he always stuck to that except late at night.

He would come and pick you up in his new car he recently bought. You would run out of your front door adrenaline pumping through your veins at the sight of him and the fact that if he got caught sneaking out of his dorm or if he got caught with you it could possibly mean real trouble for him. Changbin didn’t care, he wanted to spend every night he could with you and his friends.

Changbin was a bit of a bad boy, taking you to abandon places that had no trespassing signs just so you two could stay out all night drinking, dancing crazy to the muffled playlist coming from your phone, sharing heated kisses, and needy touches. Or he would hop a fence and sneak you into a hotel swimming pool to go skinny dipping after pool hours. And then sometimes he would just take you to a party with his friends from his past.

Like tonight he was taking you to the beach which was closed after sundown but there was a bonfire happening and he had pretty much begged you to go with him. Now, even though you two spent most nights together he had only ever kissed you, he never tried to do more than that even though you wished he would cross that line.. you would beg for it if it wouldn’t be humiliating. So you two stayed friends that would sometimes make out.

You craved his attention. You loved the way he would look at you sometimes as if he knew a secret that you didn’t. That little cocky smirk he got when you would tell him a dirty joke you heard, like you could see the smutty thoughts flowing through his mind. You touched yourself to the thought of him. You just wanted him always and tonight was going to be the night you told him exactly how you felt and what you wanted.

—————————————————————————————————————————

Changbin walked a little ahead of you as you both walked from the parking lot onto the still warm sand. He grabbed your wrist lightly pulling you along, “Hurry, so we can get a good cold drink.” You only smiled and picked up the pace. “Patience Changbin, the party wont leave. It’s still going to be there, also I’m a bit nervous. These people are all your friends I wont know anyone there.” You said as you walked up beside him and Changbin dropped your wrist, which you instantly missed the warmth of his large hand on your skin.

“No, no, don’t get insecure now. You’re the funnest person I know and the prettiest.” He put his hands on your shoulders to make you look at him. “Just be yourself and people will love you, just as I do.” You know he didn’t mean it the way you wanted him to mean it but a small bloom of hope began in the pit of your stomach. Maybe he will reciprocate my feelings… you thought to yourself as his warm brown eyes searched yours.

You opened your mouth to begin to convey that you really wanted to tell him something important but of course a couple of his friends spotted you both and began to yell for you two to come over.

The closer you got to the party the louder the chatter and music became. The fire was huge and blazing in the middle of this dug out pit causing the warm summer night to feel even more warm. You followed Changbin as he greeted a bunch of people. And you didn’t expect Changbin to introduce you exactly but, you felt a little awkward when he began conversations and didn’t even acknowledge you were standing right beside him. What’s up with him, he never treats you like this. You question in your head but chose to just go with it. You didn’t mind being a wallflower as long as you were with him.

Eventually you two made your way to where the drinks were and he did grab two drinks, one for you and one for himself. Changbin turned to you as he sipped on his beer, “Are you okay?” You nodded and drank some of your beer. You winced at the bitter taste as it slid down your throat. You thought that if you just had a little liquid courage maybe you would loosen up and not be so uptight.

You watched as Changbin flitted around like a social butterfly. He was in his element, talking to everyone he knew and even people he didn’t know. The more awkward you felt the more you drank and only two hours in you had drank two beers and you were on your third. You weren’t sure where Changbin had run off to but it was pissing you off at this point.

He had never treated you like this, he had never left you to just fend for yourself with people you didn’t know. He was always there, a comfort for you. And yes, maybe you should be more independent but you came out to be with him not strangers.

Fuck it.. I’m going to dance. I can’t just stand here alone anymore. The thought crossed your mind as you finished that third beer and you just chucked the empty bottle in the sand before walking over to a spot near the fire where the music was blasting the loudest. You were not the most coordinated but you were buzzed enough to not care anymore.

You let the music just move you, not caring what you looked like to the other party goers around. Then suddenly a pair of hands engulfed your hips and you smirked thinking maybe Changbin had seen you and decided to join you but, when you turned around it was not him. The guy that was dancing with you was a tall, slim man that had dyed dark blue curly hair. He was cute but, not the one you wanted to be dancing with.

“No thanks” you said to the guy, your words slurring ever so slightly. “I want to be dancing with Changbin.” You said out loud, your inner thoughts slipping free of your usually guarded mouth. The man didn’t seem offended he nodded and pointed in the direction of the water where it was darker and more quiet. “I saw him head out there with a friend, I think.”

So you began to walk in that direction, all the while muttering to yourself how you were just going to tell him. Tell him everything. As you walked you could see a figure sitting down in the sand by the water. The waves crashing on the shore but not quite reaching him. You couldn’t help but smile as his figure grew larger and you could see that little smirk you loved on his lips.

“Hey, I -“ you began as you plopped down beside him on the sand. Changbin looked startled. His eyes growing a bit wide and he kept glancing out at the ocean. You were too tipsy to really notice what or who he was looking at until you heard a girls voice calling to him. “Binnie! It’s so cold!” The girl yelled as she came running up to him, soaking wet and only in her bra and panties.

You froze, your eyes looking at the girl who was now wrapping herself up in his jacket. You then looked over at Changbin and he couldn’t look you in the face. “Binnie, who’s this?” She innocently asked. Before Binnie could utter a word you shoved him and you shoved him hard. His muscly body was not easy to move but you were pissed, more so than you had ever been in your entire life.

“What the fuck, Changbin! You ditched me to come out here with her! And who the fuck calls you Binnie. No one calls you that!” You were yelling now and it took a second try but you stumbled to your feet. “I can’t fucking believe you!” You began to storm off in the opposite direction of the bonfire but Changbin followed you. You could hear his foot steps in the sand behind you.

“Come on, don’t be mad. I expected you to do the same. This is a party after all. It’s what people do. They hook up!” Changbin grabbed your arm gently, making you stop. You couldn’t take it anymore, the tears were rushing down your cheeks now, hot against the salty breeze coming off of the ocean. As you whirled around. You forcefully shook his hand off of you, “But I came here with you! I don’t want anyone else…”

Your voice was shaky and not as loud as it was before. You felt defeated and embarrassed that this was how your feelings came out to him. In a rush.. a drunken rush. “Oh come on, y/n. We aren’t dating. It’s not like we have an obligation to only be with one another.” Changbin blurted out, his eyes trained on you making you even more self conscious. You took a step back upon hearing his harsh words.

Slowly nodding in realization, “So none of it meant anything to you…” You watched his face fall a bit then he shook his head rapidly, “That’s not what I meant!” He yelled, anger seeping into his voice. “No! You don’t get to be mad, Changbin. All the sneaking out, the late night secrets, the heated kisses, staying up all night to watched the sunrise..may not have meant anything to you but, it meant EVERYTHING to me!”

Reaching up to tug at your hair in frustration you began to cry a little more. Maybe it was the alcohol but your emotions are running very high. You aren’t sobbing but the overwhelming urge to just sit in the sand and cry was very appealing. “You can’t tell me you didn’t feel it too.. that buzz between us. The way you look at me sometimes.. like you know.. like you feel it too.” Your voice was softer now, broken as you cried softly.

“Y/n, please don’t cry.” Changbin came to your side and gently took your wrists to pull you into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you to give you one of his protective hugs that you loved so much. It would be easy to just fall back into it again. To let him comfort you and nothing would change. That would be the issue.. nothing would change.

In that moment you made a decision, you were going to choose you this time. No more chasing after a man who clearly was not going to do more than just string you along. “Stop.” You mumbled just as he kissed your forehead and you stepped out of his hold. “No more, I don’t want to stop seeing you but, all of this can’t be one sided. I can’t be strung along anymore. You may not realize what you’re doing but it’s very clear to me now. I’m just someone to touch and kiss and be with when you’re lonely.”

Changbin began to speak but you held up your hand to silence him. “This hurts, I don’t want to stop this but, it hurts more knowing I’m giving you all of me when I will only ever get the pieces of you that you want to give away.” You shook your head as you began to walk backwards. “Don’t call me, don’t text me. This stops now. I wont be a convenience anymore.” Now you were sobbing heavily and you could see the reality hit Changbin. That you really meant what you were saying.

Before you turned around to walk away, “I’m done waiting for you to feel the way I do.” You didn’t say goodbye, you simply turned away from him and walked back to the parking lot. After the car you had ordered came to pick you up and you were on your way back home is when you allowed yourself to break down. The man driving probably thought you were insane but your body had to let it out.

It was like experiencing a death. Your entire body felt it. You cried hard but, tried to stay as silent as possible. Your shoulders shaking as the tears fell, wetting not only your cheeks but, also streaming down your chin and neck, dripping onto your shirt. You had fallen for Changbin slowly and then rapidly, head over heels and this was the hardest thing you had ever had to do. You loved him but, he didn’t love you the way you needed.

You should have been proud of yourself for putting your heart first but all you could think was.. how would you live your days without him.. and then in the back of your mind you hoped maybe this would make him realize he needed you too.

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