#i will never ever ever not be normal about him

[jakei95]

This will be the last update about the accusations against Nyx and me from last year.

I cannot force everyone to forgive or believe us, but I would like to provide a closure from our part on the events following Hopeless Peaches' false accusations last year, and a few more that have been reappearing this year, once more.

In recent months, we resumed communication with CrystalFlame, one of the victims of the Glitchtale server. Crystal acknowledged that the accusations against us for allegedly being sexual towards minors and bribing her to remain silent about our "crimes" were entirely fabricated by these people. It was never our intention to hide our past mistakes with money. The separate donations Nyx and I gave to Crystal were solely intended to help her.

Regarding the conversations on Skype in 2017, neither Nyx nor I ever forced the minors present to engage in sexual behavior for our entertainment, nor did we sexualize them in any way. There were inappropriate conversations between adults, in which they should not have been involved, and we recognize our mistake in being negligent and not caring enough about them. I must admit that Veir also disgusted me, and I reacted foolishly by not confronting him or by saying things he liked just to make him leave me alone. I deeply regret this. Although we have apologized to Crystal for this, I also want to apologize to the minors who were there, even if they don't want to know about this anymore, and to the entire community for this huge mistake. Since Nyx and I stopped using that chat short after our irl meeting that same year, plus our detachment to the members of GT, we have changed our views significantly both in public and in private, creating a healthy community for everyone. I will add more details later regarding my experiences with NSFW material, for which I have also been accused of being a depraved person.

I disagree with how Nyx tried to explain how these behaviors were so normalized, but he never intended to justify the toxicity and unpunished crimes occurring in Latin culture. Nyx acknowledges this, and we discussed it again privately with Crystal. We apologize once more to our Latin members who might have been offended by this take, which could have been better explained. Nyx and I said a lot of things out of fear and frustration, which caused more harm and distress rather than solutions due to the explosive harassment we faced because of the false accusations by Hopeless Peaches and their group. I won't go into too many details because I have chosen to keep my mental health private, but this wave of harassment severely impacted my mental and physical health, and I am currently undergoing treatment to manage the aftermath.

However, I want to take full responsibility for causing Nyx to act out of emotion rather than with a clear mind in a desperate attempt to protect me, as Crystal ended up in a very complicated situation during the harassment wave created by Peaches, making her believe that our lives were in her hands and dependent on her choices. This was not only inappropriate but also unfair, considering Crystal was going through a lot at that time. Nyx and I poorly worded many things both publicly and privately. We should never have let our emotions take over while trying to defend ourselves. We could have handled the situation more maturely. None of these mistakes will be repeated ever again. Crystal has also admitted her mistakes. Many things would have taken a different path if dialogue had been the first option instead of public statements, but both sides have learned a lot.

People have become used to seeing random individuals or public figures being exposed daily for horrible acts and behavior, which is very depressing. However, when those accusations are false, it is sometimes too late to undo the damage. No one likes to be pointed at and accused of something they didn't commit, especially when those accusations are serious, like harming another human being.

With all this, I don't want to hear anything about Glitchtale, its creator, or its still-active members. Nor do I want to hear about Hopeless Peaches or their community, or what's left of it. My purpose on the internet is to entertain people with my art, and on the rare occasions I interact publicly, to maintain a calm and healthy environment, as I have been doing for years. My boundaries with fans are very strict and defined. It may sound ambitious or silly to many, but for a long time, I have wanted to make a difference and show that not all artists with a large audience are people who hide dark secrets and seek to harm others. I just want to tell stories and brighten people's days.

Some people today are confused and believe that I am actually Camila, and that Nyx is Veir, that my husband has been dating minors despite us being married, and that I defended my "pedophile" partner and protected other groomers. People are not only mistaking us for other individuals, but we also don't have anything to do with that other than the 2017 Skype chats. We have been put in some sort of black list from parts of the fandom due to misinformation or because some people seek an excuse to justify their dislike for us by wishing we had harmed real children. This is sickening, sickeing and frustrating if you actually think about the victims not only in fandoms but everywhere. So, please, I beg you to distinguish between names and what has actually happened. Even if you don't like us, don't seek or wish for us to be monsters just to feel proud of yourselves.

I feel I could regain some peace in my heart by having the opportunity to talk to Crystal about all what happened and ending in good terms. This should be the end of the whole controversy regarding the Skype Chat and the GT Server.

Now I would also like to take the opportunity to talk about other accusations still aimed at me to this day, which I once explained on a Twitter thread that was eventually deleted due to unnecesary arguments between fans. I'm being accused of being a horrible and irredeemable person for drawing a comic in my early years in the fandom that insinuated a non-consensual act between Cross and Dream.

Before any explanation, I want to emphasize that I still feel immense regret and shame for creating that nsfw comic, even if I didn't feel comfortable doing so, I still made the decision as an adult and shouldn't have done it in a space where there were minors and people who might find that material triggering. Even though it happened many years ago, it was not right, and I will apologize as many times as necessary.

I haven't had any contact with the creator of Dreamtale since 2017, so I'm unaware of her current viewpoint about this topic in general, but one thing is certain: both of us don't want to be associated with that ship between our characters and want to move on. We want it as far away from us as possible. I don't want anybody to harass her over this situation.

During that time, I was in an unstable relationship with the creator of Dreamtale, with whom I used to roleplay privately. This, along with being pressured to make the ship "canon", led me to create the comics for that ship. Among them was the infamous scene for which I'm accused of supporting rape. This content and private interactions reached a point where the entire situation made me uncomfortable, along with the toxic attitudes in our relationship, I ended up closing the blog, though not before writing a summary of what would happen next in the story -that didn't have any other sexual moments, to clarify-, simply a closure for those who enjoyed the comic. Not long after, we broke up.

After this experience, I began to realize that any NSFW content, both fictional and real, made me very uncomfortable. This is connected to future members of the fandom, like Veir, who tried to sexualize me, and later, ex-friends whom I wanted to please for their support during my growth as a content creator by drawing them private NSFW commissions. I ignored my discomfort, believing I was doing the right thing and that I could trust them, but what happened later finally made me understand that I personally cannot tolerate any of this content.

This group of people shared these private commissions among themselves. One of these people was someone I considered a close friend and was even my Discord moderator but began abusing their power towards other members, trying to escape the consequences just because of our friendship. They even tried to offer me money to remove a character from another artist who would appear in my animation as a cameo, just because they both had personal issues. I decided to end our friendship because I saw no changes or improvements on their part and I felt i was being used as a power tool for them.

It wasn't long after this that I found an alt account of them, posting these private NSFW drawings, tagging me to attract attention as a form of revenge for cutting ties with them (They also got Nyx's phone number to trying to get in contact with me despite what they were doing). These images spread last year among a few people who, unaware of the background, used them as a reason to question me as an artist. However I explained the rest of the story before it became more public, and I appreciate that they listened to me first, however, the damage was already done.

In March of this year, I made a thread on Twitter explaining this and my reason for not supporting or consuming NSFW content. I want to stay away from this whole debate. I don't want my words to be used to attack others. My reasons for not enjoying this are because I had people around me who caused me a lot of harm with this matter, it triggers me, and I don't like any sexual topics around me, even as an adult reaching my 30s. I simply don't like it, I'm not interested, and I want my feelings to be respected. I'm very aware that more than half of my audience are minors, and I know how to behave and what to show in my art, but there are still others looking for any excuse to call me or my husband horrible things. It has happened before with accusations of transphobia for making Frisk and Chara from Xtale male instead of non-binary as they are in the canon version. I have been called a pedophile for portraying Frisk and Muffet from XTale in an innocent romantic context, even though there is no age difference, just because is not following, again, the canon (which with all honesty, I'm not aware if it has been confirmed she is a child or not). I have been accused of racism because of the characters' skin color, and so on.

Being hated in a fandom as an artist with a big following is supposed to be normal, but, to what extent?

I know I should ignore those comments and move on, but I still don't understand why it hurts so much that people want to discredit my efforts as an artist and as a person by believing they have found some dark secret in me… I really can't understand, I just want to live in peace.

My art is my only escape from negative thoughts. Nyx is my only support in real life. I have been working on how to deal with online criticism and harassment, but it is really hard when people tell lies in order to ruin a life, especially when those lies try to make us look like disgusting human beings. This puts me in a lot of distress, mostly because I hate conflict and prefer to be left alone. I want to be a role model in this community by not getting involved with problematic people and toxic environments. Even if there are people who don't like my work, I want to show that there is still a bit of decency and common sense in the art community.

For this reason, this will be the last time I talk about this because I want to focus on what makes me, my husband, and my audience happy. I want to set an example, and I want people to read this, try to understand our position, and give us a chance.

Once again, we deeply regret the mistakes we made in the past.

[alisonsfics]

too good to me

pairing: carmen berzatto x reader

summary: after weeks of stress and being on edge, carmy blows up and yells at marcus, but carmy holds such a special place in your heart that you go to his apartment afterward to see how he’s doing

word count: 3.2k

warnings: swearing, arguing, general angst and then fluff

You all knew that something had been on Carmy’s mind. The past few weeks, he’d been more than just anxious. He was really putting his perfectionist tendencies to the extreme. It had been three weeks since officially opening The Bear.

Carmy knew that the first few weeks were crucial to a new business, especially one as volatile as a new-age restaurant. He’d been stressed, which was nothing new for him. But, it was more extreme. He had gotten into an hour-long screaming match with Richie about what specific angle the hostess stand should be pointed.

Everyone was trying to keep Carmy calm, but it had to be done carefully. If he picked up on a tone that was too sympathetic, he’d yell “I’m fine,” and storm off.

With everyone walking on eggshells around him, the tickets for the orders got a little jumbled and in a backwards order.

“Somebody better fucking fix this.” Carmy said, running his hand through his hair. You’d seen him do that move a hundred times, and it usually meant that everything was getting overwhelming. “It’s alright, Carmy. I can handle this. Just go take a quick break outside for me, please?” You asked him.

You were Carmy’s weak spot.

He’d always had a special place in his heart for you. He was wrapped around your finger. If anyone else had told him to take a break, he would have told them to fuck off.

Carmy walked around the corner, where Marcus walked up to him with a new pastry in hand. “Hey, chef. I was thinking we could add a new pastry to the menu for that special event next week?” Marcus asked. It was a perfectly innocent question, especially since Marcus didn’t have any urgent work to be done. In that moment, Marcus was just lacking in reading the room.

“Tonight’s service is a disaster, and you’re wasting your fucking time doing this?” Carmy yelled, smacking the dish out of Marcus’ hand.

That was too far. Farther than Carmy had ever pushed it.

You inserted yourself between the two men. “Marcus, you okay?” You asked him. He nodded his head, but looked down at a small cut on the back of his hand. You placed your hand on his forearm. “Go get that cut washed, and then help Sydney sort out those tickets please.” You said, remaining calm.

“Yes, chef,” Marcus said, walking towards the sink.

Carmy was frozen in place, like even he couldn’t believe what he’d just done. “You,” you started to say, turning around to face Carmy.

“I know,” he said, softly.

“Go home, Berzatto. You need to cool off.” You said, trying to be firm but also gentle. Carmy huffed and ran his hand through his hair again. “But I just…one more—” he started to say.

“Home, Carmen.” You repeated, firmer this time. You called him many things: Carmy, Carm, Bear, and the occasional pet name, but never Carmen.

He walked away, but you heard him slam his hand against the wall as he left.

Still rattled from the whole encounter, you tried to get back on your game. “Syd, you’ve got this,” you encouraged your friend, as she directed the kitchen. The rest of the service was a little bumpy as all of you were still a little distracted.

At the end of the service, you were all silently cleaning up your stations. Normally at this point in the night, you were all catching up and joking around with each other. But instead, you all were recalling the night’s events in your heads.

You lightly knocked on the door of the office, where Sugar was sitting and looking through some forms. “Hey, Nat. You mind if I head out a little early? Richie said he’d clean up my station. I was gonna go check on Carmy and see if he’s alright. I’ve been really worried about him.” You told her.

“Yeah yeah, go for it. I think he’ll want to see you. And it’ll be good for him to talk to someone, and you’re the only one he really talks to.” Sugar told you, pulling you in for a quick hug before you left. She hesitated. “Let me know how he is…I’m worried about him,” she told you, softly.

“I will, I promise.” You said, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. You turned to leave the office. “Carm’s lucky to have you,” she told you as you walked away. You turned backwards as you kept walking. “The feelings mutual,” you added.

You walked up to Carmy’s apartment and knocked on the door. “Carmy, it’s me, please let me in,” you said.

You heard silence on the other side of the door. You fished your spare key out of your pocket and slid it into the lock. You turned the key slowly and let yourself into his apartment.

You walked into his dark apartment. You saw Carmy’s silhouette as he sat on the couch, staring out the window.

“I gave you that key for emergencies.” He said, coldly. You flipped on the light switch, bringing some light into the dark apartment. “I think what I saw earlier calls for a little intervention, don’t you?” You asked. Carmy sat in silence, continuing to stare out the window. You walked around to the front of the couch so you could face him.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He said, still refusing to look at you. Carmy felt guilty about what he’d done. He’d never yelled at you before, and he was ashamed that you had to see him scream like that. Carmy cared more about your opinion than he did about anyone else’s.

You walked towards Carmy, only stopping inches in front of him. “When was the last time you ate?” You asked, blatantly. He leaned back against the couch, trying to add some more distance between you both. He shrugged, genuinely not knowing the answer to your question.

You dug into your work bag and pulled out a takeout box. You stopped by Carmy’s favorite burger restaurant in Chicago to grab him some food. You knew Carmy would sometimes forget to eat when he was feeling anxious. “Eat it,” you told him, handing the box over to him.

He reluctantly opened the box and started eating. You set your work bag on the ground and sat down on the chair that faced the couch.

Carmy shifted nervously in his seat as your gaze was set on him. He was unnerved that you weren’t talking about what happened at the restaurant.

Carmy could normally read you like the back of his hand, but something about your current expression was throwing him off. He couldn’t tell if you were going to scream at him or not.

“Are you here to yell at me like everybody else? I already know I screwed up. I shouldn’t have yelled at Marcus, and I shouldn’t have argued when you told me to leave.” He told you, hoping he could apologize and avoid you yelling at him.

“You know that I’m not here to yell at you. You really fucked up, but Marcus knows that you were just stressed. I’m here to make sure you’re doing okay because I’ve never seen you blow up like that” You said, finally showing your cards. Carmy frowned, looking guilty.

“God, you’re too good to me. I acted like a piece of shit today, and you’re still trying to make sure I’m okay.” He said, still amazed by the love you had for him. He was looking at you like you were his whole world.

He set down the takeout box and used his hand to call you over to him. You stood up and walked towards him, and he patted the seat next to him.

You joined him on the couch. You both were sitting so close together that you were practically in his lap. He turned his body so he could face you.

He let his hand rest on your thigh, feeling more grateful for you than he ever had. You let your fingers caress his bicep, “you deserve to be okay. I want you to be okay,” you said, softly.

You studied his face. You noticed the small bags that had formed under his eyes. You wondered when the last time he’d actually gotten a good night’s sleep was.

You softly brushed his hair out of his face. When he was stressed, Carmy liked to pull on a certain strand of hair right in the front. You knew him like the back of your hand. You noticed all of his quirks; quirks that most people never picked up on.

Carmy watched as you gently tried to soothe him. He was sure you could see the adoration in his eyes.

“I hope you know how perfect you are. You always know exactly what to say.” He said, smiling at you. He pulled your hand away from his hair and interlaced your fingers. He’d wanted to kiss the back of your hand, but couldn’t push himself to do it.

“Do you wanna talk about why you’ve been so stressed recently?” You asked. You were treading lightly, but you wanted to understand what was making him so anxious. You hated seeing him push everyone away, and you wanted to help in any way you could.

He shrugged. “It’s just the restaurant,” he said, not knowing how else to explain it.

“The restaurant is doing amazing though, Carmy. You have no need to stress about that. You’ve been doing such a great job.” You told him, sincerely.

You watched him get a little more nervous. He was looking down at his lap, avoiding meeting your gaze. You ran your thumb over the back of his hand, trying to silently reassure him.

“You can tell me anything, Carm,” you said, softly.

“You just mean so much to me,” he started to explain. You were a little confused as to where he was going with this conversation. The room was silent as Carmy gathered his thoughts.

“Everything at the restaurant has been going so well. Every time my life has ever gone well, something terrible has happened next. I feel like I’m just waiting for everything to…I don’t know, crumble? Losing the restaurant would be terrible, but losing you and the rest of the team would be devastating. You guys are my family.” He told you, his voice cracking with emotion.

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes. You quickly pulled him into you arms, giving him the tightest hug you could. He clutched onto you like he was scared you’d disappear if he let you go.

“You aren’t going to lose anybody,” you said, holding back tears just from watching how emotional Carmy was.

The soft leather scent of Carmy’s cologne occupied your thoughts as you held him close. You both stayed attached like that for a few minutes. The room was silent, but a comfortable silent.

When you both finally pulled apart, Carmy dried the tears off his cheeks. “Nothing bad is going to happen with the restaurant. We’re all family, and that doesn’t go away based on what happens with the restaurant. You will never lose me, or any of us.” You promised him.

You earned a small chuckle from Carmy when you held your pinky up to him. “You won’t lose me either,” he said, dutifully going through with your pinky promise.

You both stared into each other’s eyes, unsure what to say next. The tension in the air nearly made it hard to breathe.

“I should probably get going and let you have the rest of your evening. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said, standing up from the couch.

You had never felt so awkward around Carmy. Just the task of walking to the front door felt like a giant opportunity to embarrass yourself. Carmy also quickly jumped up from the couch, feeling equally self-conscious.

His hand lightly grazed your back as he led you back to the front door. “Thank you for coming over and talking to me. You really helped calm me down.” He said, sincerely. You smiled and nodded your head at him.

“Make sure to call me if you ever need to talk about anything. I promise that I’ll always be here to listen,” you assured him.

The tension returned.

You both chose to avoid it.

“Well, goodnight,” you both quickly said, at the same time. You rushed out the door, and Carmy closed it behind you.

The door clicked into place and seemingly broke you both out of your trance.

You both realized you had missed the perfect opportunity. The perfect opportunity to finally confess those feelings that had been weighing you down.

You lowered your head, almost shamefully, and started walking down the hallway.

Carmy leaned his head against the closed door, wondering how he could have missed it. The girl of his dreams was walking down the hallway away from his apartment, away from him.

He started to walk towards his bedroom when he suddenly thought “fuck it,” and turned around.

At the same time in the hallway, you had the same thought.

Your heart beating in your ears, you turned on your heel and headed back towards Carmy’s apartment.

Carmy started walking back towards the front door. Before he could reach the door, he watched the knob spin and the door fling open.

You were back and standing in front of him.

Realizing you both had the same idea, Carmy quickly closed the gap between the two of you. His strong tattooed hands cupped your cheeks as he finally kissed you. You kissed him back immediately, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist.

He moved one of his hands away from you, but just a second, so he could quickly close the front door behind you.

He pushed you against the back of the door. The back of your head bumped against the door causing you to grin against the kiss. “Oh, shit, sorry. You okay?” he asked, cupping the back of your head. You quickly nodded your head. “I’m fine, I promise.” You said, grabbing his collar and pulling him back to kiss you.

He smirked against your lips at your eagerness to not break the kiss for even a second. He held onto your waist and pinned you against the door, while you wrapped your arms around his neck and toyed with his hair.

His lips felt perfect against yours. The kiss was somehow everything you’d dreamed of but completely unexpected.

You shifted your weight against him, gently nudging him away from the door. Carmy picked up on what you were doing. You noticed his signature smirk as he guided you towards the couch.

You fell back onto the couch, pulling Carmy down on top of you. All his weight landed on you, causing you to wince. “Sorry, that more violent than it was supposed to be.” He said, sheepishly. He quickly shifted his weight, so he was holding himself above you.

You both were giggly as these little mishaps continued to happen. It suited your relationship. You both had always been able to joke with each other, especially because of your matching sense of humor. It made sense that when you both finally got together that Carmy would accidentally bump your head against the door. But it didn’t make things awkward. You both were so comfortable just giggling with each other.

“Get back here, Berzatto,” you said, connecting your lips again. He quickly obliged. While Carmy loved laughing with you, he had been waiting years to kiss you and wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.

“You look so fuckin’ pretty,” he mumbled as he kissed you. You quickly slipped his tshirt over his head and tossed it to the side.

Then, you both heard a strange muffled sound. You pulled out of the kiss and gave Carmy a concerned look. It sounded like someone was in the apartment.

Your face completely changed when you realized what it was. “Carmy, that’s your phone. You butt dialed someone,” you whispered. His eyes also grew wide. He quickly grabbed his phone out of his pocket, hoping he could hang up and not say anything.

Once his phone was in his hand, he realized it was a FaceTime call and he was now face-to-face with his sister.

“Oh, shit. Sugar?” He said, the shock clear on his face. You immediately held your hand over your mouth, trying to remain completely silent.

“Hey, uh yeah. You called me? Are you okay?” She asked, confused by the whole situation.

“Oh, I must’ve done it on accident, sorry. Listen, I’m really sorry about yelling tonight. I’m gonna come in tomorrow and apologize to everyone though.” He said, sincerely. You were finding it so hard to not giggle. He was on the phone with Sugar while lying directly on top of you, and you just had to stay silent.

“It’s okay, Carm. Everyone knows you’ve been going through a lot. Y/N was going to head over to your apartment. Did you talk to her?” Natalie asked, genuinely invested.

Carmy quickly nodded his head. “Yeah, she came by earlier and we talked. I’m doing a lot better. Yeah, she’s umm—” Carmy stalled as he tried to come up with a lie.

Natalie picked up on his hesitation immediately. “Oh shit. Is she— are you two— wait is she there now?” She asked, putting it all together. You froze, trying to anticipate Carmy’s next move.

He quickly sat up on the couch before pulling you into his lap. “Hi, Nat,” you said, smiling at the camera and bracing for her reaction. You both watched her jaw drop.

“Did my two favorite people finally confess their love for each other? Oh, you guys,” she awed, being able to read you both just from the way you both were blushing.

Carmy buried his face in your neck. He knew how long Natalie had been rooting for this to happen, and he was having a hard time controlling how red his face was.

“You’re good for him. I’m really happy for you guys,” she said to you. You smiled in return and thanked her.

“Well, I’ll let you both get back to it.” She said, winking at you both and ending the call.

“So, how long before everybody knows?” He asked you. You just laughed in response, knowing it wouldn’t be long.

“I think she’s already sent an all-caps text to Sydney and Richie, and the rest of them will know before we go into work tomorrow.” You told him, honestly.

“We could just stay here tomorrow. We don’t really need to go in, right?” He said, pressing kisses to your cheek.

“Would that be the responsible thing to do?” You teased him. He chuckled and pecked your lips. “You know I would spend every second with you, whether it was responsible or not.” He told you.

You giggled, stopping him from kissing you. “Awww we’re only fifteen minutes in and I’m already your biggest weakness? You big softie,” You continued to joke around with him.

“You’ve always been my weakness, sweetheart,” he said, quickly picking up and carrying you to his bedroom.

taglist: @laurakirsten0502 @miraclesoflove @nathaliabakes @millipop18 @lillyssh-tposts @shyinadarkplace @vanteguccir @missroro @guacam011y @sw33t-cupid @ice-dtae @leyannrae @sia2raw @nyx2021 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @shyconversationalbookworm @shadowhuntyi @visenyaverse @ruzannetheseahorse @superdeath @wandaswifeyforlifey @spookyqueen @mcuswhore @bookwormchick91 @princess-evans-addict @n3ssm0nique @peakascum @cjand10 @namsey1987 @supernaturalstilinski @stephv213 @warriormirkwood @one-sweet-gubler @narliesstuff @bibissparkles @stupiidfrogs

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

[withwritersblock]

Happily

~Happily by One Direction~

Author's Note: this is similar to a piece I loved writing on my old account, withcolebrock (if you like Colby Brock then go check my old works!) Also as always italics are flashbacks! Summary: Quinn's in love with Y/N but she's getting married Warnings: implied smut, swearing Word Count: 4,936 Quinn Hughes x fm!reader

When she invited him to the wedding, he was only shocked. His entire family was invited, of course. Their parents have been friends for years before Quinn and Y/N were born. He thought that after everything they’ve been through, he wouldn’t be invited. 

He always thought that exes shouldn’t be invited to weddings. But was he even her ex? It was something rattling in his brain for months since the invite was sent to his apartment. Was it a mistake? Did they argue about it? Did she demand he be there? They were best friends after all. 

She moved to Vancouver with him. They shared a two bedroom apartment together, where her room was rarely used. But they were only ever friends with benefits. They never exceeded the relationship side of things. 

“Did that really just happen?” she questioned, turning her head to the side to meet his gaze. They were both still breathing heavily, sweat was on his forehead as well as his pink cheeks. He pressed his lips together while he took in a deep breath, awkwardly nodding. “Wow,” she mumbled, shifting her gaze back towards the ceiling. 

Quinn’s lips slowly curled into a smirk, “Wow amazing or wow that was embarrassingly bad we should never do that again?” he kept his gaze on her, watching the smile form on her lips. She rolled her eyes playfully, brushing a few stray pieces of hair away from her forehead. 

“Wow, amazing, wow we shouldn’t have done that,” she explained, her gaze meeting him once more. His eyes squinted slightly as he furrowed his eyebrows slightly.  She took in a deep breath, inching towards him. 

She reached her hand over, resting it onto his cheek. She slowly ran her thumb across his cheek. “Wow, let’s do it again,” she mumbled, a half smirk on her lips.

His lips slowly went into a smile as he reached towards her, taking a hold of her bare thigh. Pulling her onto his lap, he glided his hands up and down her naked frame. “Wow,” he said, raising his eyebrows. 

She leaned towards him, kissing him urgently. Kissing him felt so right and so perfect in that moment. It was fun and loving in a special way she couldn’t make out the feeling.

Quinn slowly rolled her onto her back, as he kept a hold of her thigh. He loved the feeling of her leg in his hands. “Should we talk about this?” he asked as he pulled away from her lips. She scanned his features, rubbing her thumb across his jawline. 

“Maybe after we do that again,” she said with a small smirk. Her hand slowly glided from his jawline, towards his neck and into his hair.

“Well obviously,” he muttered as leaned towards her, kissing her desperately once more. She giggled into the kiss.

It was a black tie wedding. The guests were expected to wear black so that the bridal party could stand out. He wore all black, maybe a symbol of mourning her last possible moments of freedom. 

He stared in the mirror, his hair styled, away from his face. His beard more full than normal but was cleaned up and neat looking. 

He blinked a few times as a hand was waving in front of his face. He shifted his gaze to see Luke standing beside him. He was in a regular black and white undershirt suit. His hair was shorter as it was early August and he wanted his hair cut short before the season began. 

“Are you doing okay?” Luke asked, shoving his hands into his pockets. Quinn licked his lips while he nodded. “You’re disappearing a bit, are you sure?” Luke pressed. Quinn nodded once more as he ran a hand over his mouth as he walked towards the bed. 

“Boys! We need to go! We’ll be late for the ceremony!” Ellen shouted from across the AirBnB. Luke met Quinn’s gaze, patting him on the shoulder before he walked out of the bedroom that was Quinn’s for the weekend. Quinn tilted his head back, taking a deep breath before he followed after his youngest brother.

They laid facing one another as she traced the inside of his palm delicately with her finger. He watched her, the small furrow in her eyebrows as she clenched and unclenched her jaw. She was chewing on the inside of her lip as she avoided his eye. 

It’s been a few months of their arrangement where they were best friends who had benefits. It was fun, still was. It was probably more often than what the typical arrangement should’ve been. Neither of them complained, or would ever want to complain. 

He took a small breath as he reached his free hand over and rested it onto the curve of her waist. He ran his thumb slowly and softly across the fabric of her thin tank top.  She lifted her gaze, meeting his eye.

“Do you think our friendship will ever get back to normal after this?” she asked, her voice breaking softly. He inched towards her, his heart starting to beat hard against his chest. He took a deep breath.

“I don’t think it’ll be the same, why?” he asked quietly. She swallowed hard as she pressed her lips together. 

“I just hope we didn’t mess up by doing this, I don’t want to lose you,” she said, her eyes getting teary. He pulled her towards him, letting her rest her head onto his chest. He slowly ran his hand up and down her back. 

“Where’s this coming from?” he asked in a hushed tone. She shrugged as she reached her hand up, caressing the skin of his cheek. “You won’t lose me. You’re stuck with me either as a best friend who you have amazing sex with or as a best friend without,” he let out. She giggled as those words left his lips.

“It is pretty amazing, huh?” she mumbled, sniffling slightly. 

“What I’m saying is, I loved you for years before this happened. I’ll love you for years after it stops, okay?” he explained. She lifted her head, looking down to meet his eye. She smiled softly before she leaned down, kissing him softly. 

“Ditto,” she let out. He gasped.

“I just poured my heart out and all you can say is ditto?” he forced out. 

“That was hardly pouring your heart out,” she teased as she rested her hand onto his chest.

“It was from the heart, that still counts,” he let out as he ran his hand up her back and ran his fingers soothingly through her hair. 

“You are so dramatic Quinn Hughes,” she said, shaking her head. She reluctantly stood up from the bed, adjusting the tiny shorts on her frame as she walked towards the door. “Good luck tonight,” she mumbled before she walked out of the room to get ready for work. 

“Thanks,” he muttered. Leaving Quinn alone and surrounded in his thoughts.

She stared into her reflection, admiring the makeup her sister had done. It was beautiful, it made her feel extra gorgeous for her special day. She was starting to hate her hair, hating the idea of the updo she had chosen. Suddenly feeling insecure about each part of her upper body. Her neck was too big, her jaw looked wrong. Her smile felt fake.

Everything was starting to feel wrong. It was too soon, everything about the wedding was starting to feel wrong. Maybe even the guy was wrong. Colin was a wonderful man. He was kind and sweet and would do anything to make Y/N happy. 

It was hard to admit but she was content. She didn’t want to marry someone who she was only content with. She wanted the constant butterflies, the never ending need and desire for one another. The laughter, the never ending smiles. Colin and Y/N fell into a routine so fast it felt as though they were meant to be. Their lives matched together so beautifully it seemed to be easy. 

Maybe she didn’t want it easy. Maybe she didn’t want Colin. Maybe she wanted him instead. 

She pushed the thought away as she dropped her gaze towards the wedding dress. It was a dress she has been dreaming of since she was a little kid. 

Her mother slowly walked up behind her, resting her hands onto Y/N’s shoulders. “How’s my girl doing?” she asked, smiling towards her through the mirror. Y/N tilted her head to the side, admiring her own frame as she simply nodded. Unsure of the words to say. “Oh what’s wrong?” she asked in a hushed tone. 

“I’m fine, seriously,” she whispered, a voice crack leaving her throat in the process. 

“You shouldn’t be just fine on your wedding day, is this about Quinn?” her mother asked. Y/N’s eyes widened as she spun around. Her eyes danced around the room, making sure there weren't any wandering eyes or eager ears. 

“What?” she forced out barely above a whisper.

She stood in the kitchen preparing protein pancakes for Quinn’s birthday morning. He had a game later in the day so she still wanted it to be somewhat healthy but special for him. She hummed along to the country song playing as she swayed her hips back and forth to the beat. She held the spatula like a microphone for a few seconds as she sang along. 

She flipped the last pancake of the batch over, hearing a small sizzle in the process. She reached into the cabinet and took a hold of two plates. She began adding several pancakes to each plate when she heard footsteps coming up from Quinn’s bedroom. She took the last pancake from the pan and dropped it onto the extras. She turned the stove off as she spun around holding the plates. Smiling wide, she met his sleepy gaze.

“Happy birthday!” she cheered out as she rested the plates onto the countertop. He smiled shyly as he dropped his head. “I made you some pancakes, protein pancakes and here's as many toppings as you want,” she said pointing towards the different collections of fruits and syrup. 

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said as he walked towards her, wrapping his arms around her. She wrapped her arms tightly around the center of his body. “This is amazing,” he mumbled before he pulled away from her. 

“Come on, Quinny let’s eat,” she mumbled as she slowly kept her hand on the center of his back as they walked towards the stools on the other side of the counter. “I’ve got your whole day planned out,”

“Oh yeah?” he asked as he added strawberries onto his pancakes. She nodded dramatically as she added bananas onto hers. “What’s the plan? I still need my pre game nap,” he said, smiling, while he poured some syrup onto them.

“Don’t worry I already added it to the schedule, you’ll be ready by one to take your nap,” she offered with a teasing grin, “You have to hurry up and eat. We’re cutting it close to my next plan on the schedule,” she said as she took a bite of food.

“What’s that?” he questioned, raising his eyebrows. 

“Shower sex, of course,” she let out. His eyes widened, swallowing hard. “But after we eat,” she pointed towards him with her fork. “I worked hard on this breakfast,” she continued. 

He nodded, “Yes, ma’am,” He brought another bite of food towards his mouth as they maintained eye contact. He laughed as he dropped his gaze towards his plate.

“What are you talking about?” she asked as she stared into her mother’s gaze. Her mother tilted her head to the side as she pouted her lips slightly.

“My beautiful daughter, I’ve seen you two together your whole lives. You cannot tell me that there was never a moment you two didn’t get involved,” she asked in a hushed tone. Y/N clenched her jaw as she avoided her mother’s gaze. “The Christmas before you met Colin, I saw you two together. I saw the way you looked at him,” 

“Mom,” she let out while shaking her head. 

“Girls, can Y/N and I have a moment together alone?” her mother announced to the room full of bridesmaids. They all quickly scattered out of the room with zero hesitation. Her mother took a hold of her hands, looking deeply into her daughter’s eyes. “What is going through your mind right now?” she asked softly.

They sat on opposite ends of the living room. She was sitting close with her sister, Jackie, as she kept finding her gaze lingering back towards Quinn. He was doing the same thing, despite being in a full conversation with Luke.

Her sister’s son, Michael, was sitting in the center of both families opening all of his gifts. He was five years old, her sister had him when she was seventeen. Her family was still so supportive. The Hughes family also adored the little boy, giving him all of the gifts he could imagine. 

They all loved spoiling the little boy. “Who’s that one from, Mikey?” her sister asked. Michael stared towards the box seeing the name label was from Quinn.

“Uncle Quinn,” he let out softly. Quinn smiled proudly as he shifted his gaze towards Y/N. Michael quickly ripped open the box to see a kids sized Vancouver Canucks jersey. Michael instantly pulled it out and held it to his body. Jackie’s eyes widened as she shifted her gaze towards her husband.

“Quinn, you know we’re Red Wings fans right?” Jackie’s husband said while laughing. 

Quinn shrugged his shoulders while he smirked widely, “Eh, let Mikey pick his favorite,” Quinn leaned forward, resting his hands onto his knees. 

“His Auntie Y/N is a Canucks fan too,” Y/N offered towards his sister. Her husband had rolled his eyes dramatically.

“She’s got Quinny bias, that’s not fair,” Jackie’s husband expressed.

“Yes I do,” she expressed as she stood up from her spot on the couch, her eyes remained connected with Quinn’s the whole time. She had a small smile on her lips while she walked towards him. She rested her hand on the top of the couch. “Does anyone want a drink?” she offered as she began walking slowly backwards towards the kitchen. 

“Yeah, I’ll join you,” Quinn stood up, standing a few inches away from her for only a brief second. But everyone could feel the tension between them. He followed after her towards the kitchen. 

She walked towards the fridge pulling out a Dr. Pepper as she also tossed Quinn one as well. He stared towards her, admiring her features as she leaned her head against the fridge. She smiled towards him. “What are you thinking?” she questioned. 

He crossed his arms over his chest as he took a cautious step towards her, he glanced behind him. No one was in their line of sight. He took another step, his face near hers. “Can I kiss you?” he asked barely above a whisper. Her eyes squinted slightly as she felt her lips curl up into a smile.

Glancing behind him, she saw that no one was around. She nodded as he took a hold of her cheek, leaning towards her, kissing her delicately. It was only for a few seconds but it was everything they needed. 

“You know this isn’t a part of the arrangement,” she whispered against his lips. He pecked her lips for a second before he pulled away.

“I know,” he mumbled before he slowly lowered his hand away from her face as he walked away from her. She followed after him after a few moments as she raised her hand up and delicately tapped her fingers onto her lips. A small grin slowly formed.

Her mother took a hold of her hands, looking deeply into her daughter’s eyes. “What is going through your mind right now?” she asked softly. Y/N lips quivered as she looked into her mother’s eyes. “Do you want to go through with this wedding?” she asked barely above a whisper.

“Yes, of course, I-I love Colin,” she let out as she took a hold of her own cheeks as she spun away. “I love Colin, we will be good together,” she forced out. She looked into her own reflection, watching her eyes get red as she felt tears burn in her eyes. “Our life would be easy, we would love and have a great life with great kids,” she explained as she kept staring at herself. 

“When have you ever wanted an easy life?” her mother asked, a dry chuckle leaving her throat, “You and Quinn have always loved the complicated lifestyle,”

“There is no me and Quinn! There was never me and Quinn, we are friends. I love him but not like I love Colin,” she said walking away as she took a hold of the ends of dress as she walked away. She walked towards the opposite end of the room taking a deep breath. Her eyes danced between the photos of herself and Colin. She looked happy, but she wasn’t sure if she was actually happy. She let out a sigh.

“You’re right, you don’t love Colin like you love Quinn,” her mother let out.

“What are you doing?” she met her mother’s gaze, frustration filling her body. “Are you trying to talk me out of getting married? It’s a little late for that, I’m standing in a wedding gown.” she let out frustratingly.

They sat in comfortable silence as they drank their hot chocolate while staring towards the water in front of them. It was peaceful as a few small boats were floating in the distance. 

They wanted to get out of the apartment. Quinn was starting to get tired of the walls of his apartment building, the arena, and the hotel rooms. He needed to experience fresh air and to be around some bodies of water.

“I have to tell you something,” Y/N mumbled as she kept her gaze forward, watching a woman run past the pair with her dog running a few feet in front of her. He turned his head, scanning her features. 

“Okay,” he let out, watching her tilt her head back slightly. 

“I think we have to stop,” she let out while taking in a deep breath. He nodded, waiting for her to continue. “We agreed that if there was someone that we wanted to maybe pursue a relationship with we would end things,” she rambled, her voice breaking slightly as she spoke. “I met someone and he’s really kind and-I don’t want to hurt you, Quinn,” she let out, meeting his gaze. 

“You’re not hurting me,” he explained, scooting towards her. Wrapping his arm around her shoulder, “I’m happy you met someone. This was temporary for a reason,” he whispered, afraid if he spoke louder the heart break in his body would come out. 

If he was being honest, he brought her here to tell her that he loved her. He was in love with her but she clearly didn’t feel the same towards him. He swallowed hard as he met her gaze. He wanted to kiss her for the last time, but he wasn’t sure if that was something he could ask. 

“Tell me about him,” he mumbled as he watched the small smile form on her lips. She took in a long breath.

“Well, he works at the same school I do. We’ve been around each other for years but we have been talking a lot more recently and I realized we get along great. He asked me out and I said yes,” she explained. 

He nodded, “That’s great!” He was forced out.

“Are you upset?” she asked, scanning his features. He instantly shook his head, clenching his jaw slightly in the process. 

“I told you I would love you for years after this arrangement ends, I meant that. You’re my best friend, Y/N,” he explained as he took a hold of her cheek. “We’ll be fine, I want you to be happy and if this guy makes you happy that’s all that matters,” 

Quinn sat beside Luke as he stared towards his hands. He began awkwardly cracking his knuckles, repeatedly bending and moving his fingers. Luke kept his gaze low on his phone, scrolling through his Twitter feed. 

Quinn lifted his gaze, watching people file into the seats. Quinn clenched his jaw as his heart began beating rapidly. He was trying to wrap his head around the idea that it was Y/N’s wedding. It was her wedding and he wasn’t the groom. He wanted her happy, maybe he focused on her happiness more than his own. 

He’s always wanted her happy, he’s always wanted her to be at her happiest. He thought that she was better off with someone else. She went and found someone else, and she seemed happier with him.

Quinn began to distance himself from her. It was slow but he needed to step away for a while.

“You promised me!” she let out while crying. She pointed towards him as she paced back and forth. “You said you would love me after we stopped! You said it didn’t matter that you would love me and we would still be fine!” she shook her head. “Why are you constantly ignoring me? Why are you moving out? This isn’t how we do things, Quinn.” 

He sat on the couch, his face in his hands. “I do love you! That’s fucking problem!” he expressed as he stood up. “I love you! That’s why I have to leave,” he walked away from her towards his room. 

“Why is that a problem?” she sobbed out. 

“Because you’re with Colin,” he mumbled out as he walked back towards her. He scanned her features, searching for some sign that she wanted him the way he wanted her. She furrowed her eyebrows as she was breathing heavily. 

She scanned his features, searching for something else, desperate for another explanation. “You can’t love me when I’m with Colin?” she pressed forward. He took another small step towards her, their faces mere inches apart. His gaze lowered, admiring her lips. The lips he had gotten used to kissing, more than what their arrangement originally allowed.

“Not in the way I want to,” he mumbled before he walked past her back towards his room to finish packing up his things.

Quinn stood up from his seat, wandering away from the section his family was sitting in. At first he had no idea where he was going, he just kept walking. He walked past people he didn’t recognize, people that were probably close with Colin and his family. 

He continued down the hallway, smiling towards the few people he knew before he reached the Bridal suite doors. Some of her bridesmaids were standing outside talking to one another.

“Hey Quinn, the ceremony is supposed to start soon, you should go back to your seat,” her maid of honor, Jessy, said.

“Yeah, I know. I just-I need to talk to her,” Quinn offered, reaching for the door knob. Jessy pulled his arm away.

“You’re not doing that right now, wait until the reception,” she said harshly. Quinn rolled his eyes as he clenched his jaw. 

“What if it can’t wait until the reception,” he countered. She rolled her eyes.

“Then it doesn’t need to be said, Quinn. Go back to your seat,” Jessy begged. Quinn contemplated for a few seconds before he shoved into the room. “No, Quinn don’t-” she pleaded as she followed after him. 

Y/N eyes widened as her breath caught in her throat as she saw Quinn burst through the door. Y/N’s lips began to quiver as she saw Quinn. He stood amazed, in utter shock at the beauty she oozed standing there. 

“Quinn come on,” Jessy ushered.

“He can stay,” Y/N let out barely above a whisper, her eyes remained connected with his. “You guys go,” she pointed to her mother and Jessy.

“Y/N,” Jessy begged.

“I said go,” she mumbled. Her mother quickly walked out of the room, guiding Jessy out of the room as well.

The door shut and silence soon filled the room. Quinn stayed still near the door, his hands were shoved into his pocket as he admired her from afar. His mouth clammered open every so often to say something but nothing came out. He was simply shocked at how stunning she was. His heart was so full of love when he looked towards her. He never wanted this moment to end. 

She ran her hands nervously along the dress as she took a deep breath. “Say something,” she muttered as her lips quivered.

“What do you want me to say?” he asked in a whisper tone. 

“You came here, you shoved into my bridal suite, say something then!” she shouted, her eyes filling with tears. 

He took a shaky breath, feeling none of the air reach his lungs. His body was suddenly warm as his cheeks were slowly flushing red. He tugged at the collar of his undershirt, subtly gasping for air. 

“You look-” he paused as he shook his head, a small huff of air leaving his lips. “Wow,” he mumbled. She felt her lips curl up in a soft smile for only a few seconds before it faltered. He took a few steps towards her, he intended to close the distance between them but he stopped short. 

“I’m freaking out right now,” she let out while her hands started to shake.

“It’ll be okay,” Quinn muttered.

“No, No it’s not. I need you to convince me to walk down that aisle,” she said, a sob leaving her throat. “I need you to tell me that I will be happy and that this isn’t a mistake.” she begged. 

Quinn licked his lips nervously as he tilted his head to the side. “I’m not going to do that,” he mumbled.

“Why not?” she asked as she brought her shaking hands towards her eyes. She cautiously wiped the tears falling.

“You know why,” he stepped towards her. 

“Then say it,” she countered as she took a shaky breath. “Say it, Quinn,” she begged. 

“Don’t get married,” he let out, the words actually leaving his lips. He was only half sure that they weren’t just in his mind. Until he saw her gasp slightly. “This is ridiculous, Y/N. You know I’m in love with you, you know how much I crave to be with you. You know that I cannot breathe without you. An-and I think you love me too. I think you need me more than you think.” he let out in a rushedly. 

Her lips quivered as she felt tears finally fall onto her cheek. “I do,” she barely let out. “I need you,” she mumbled as she spun around as she tried to unlace the back of her dress quickly.

“What are you doing?” he asked, walking towards her. 

“What does it look like? I’m leaving,” she began fighting for the lace. “Can you help me?” she questioned as she still reached dramatically behind her back.

“Wait- shouldn’t you go talk to Colin?” he let out nervously. 

“What? No, he’ll figure it out once I don’t walk down the aisle,” she motioned towards him to walk towards her. 

He took a few steps towards her, hesitantly pulling on the lace in the back to loosen the dress on her frame. She quickly began speed walking away from him, his hands left in limbo in the air. She gripped the dress slightly as she lifted it up as she moved quickly. She opened the door, meeting her mom’s gaze. 

“I’m not going through with this wedding,” she uttered while letting out a fast breath. Her mother couldn’t stop the grin forming on her lips. 

“You’re not serious?” Jessy asked, her eyes widening. 

“Can you talk to Colin? I can’t face him,” she looked towards her mother, desperation coursing through her veins. Her mother nodded without hesitation.

“What should I tell him, dear?” she asked.

Y/N glanced behind her, meeting Quinn’s gaze for a moment before she shifted her gaze back towards her mother. “Tell him the truth,” she muttered. Switching her gaze towards Jessy, “Can you come help me get the dress off?” 

Jessy nodded hesitantly as she walked back into the suite, staring down Quinn in the process.

“Honey,” her mother called her attention. “What’s the truth?” she asked hopefully.

Y/N took in a shaky breath, “That I can’t go through with the wedding because I’m not happy. I’m not happy with the life I had with him,” she mumbled as she snuck back into the bridal suite. She met Quinn’s gaze, smiling softly.

He wasn’t a lover right now. He was her best friend, he was there for her in a difficult moment. She didn’t need him to be romantic and for them to ride off in the sunset together. She needed him to hold her hand as she escaped a life that would ruin who she was as a person. 

“Where are you going to go?” Jessy asked as she began to unlace the dress.

“Her family’s lake house,” Quinn offered as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Michigan? Seriously?” Jessy asked, a dry laugh leaving her throat. Y/N’s lips curled up in a smile as she met Quinn’s gaze. The first time in months she felt seen. She felt happy.

“Yeah Michigan,” she mumbled as she chuckled nervously.

[dwaekkicidal]

The Library

˚ʚPerv!Emo!Han Jisung x Cutesy!Fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Second part of 'The Incidents' Series; based off of this ask.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 2.3k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: told from his pov, jisung is a huge perv/creep, accidental stimulation (m receiving), (semi)public masturbation (m)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: Italics are Han's thoughts! also the picture is just a reference for the outfit i had in mind :) While you're here, you should vote on my 1k celebration post <3

The Incidents Masterlist

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

Han wasn’t sure what came over him that first time. He genuinely didn't know when he grew the balls to do such a thing in a public place with his crush not even a foot away— even touching him at one point during it. But as the weeks went on he found himself doing it more and more, to the point where the shame was almost nonexistent from how normal it became for him.

Another thing that became normal was hanging out with the girl outside of class. They even exchanged numbers after the first week. For “studying” purposes. Or whatever lie he told her as an excuse to get her phone number. Part of him was excited, it’s a chance to get to know her better! But the other part of him was dreading the closeness that would ensue. God forbid if she ever found out about what I did..

With that thought lingering around his mind he opens the giant library doors, slipping inside quietly and nodding at the clerk as he walks past. The glasses on his head falter with the nod, but he fixes them in place before fiddling with his chain. He walks to his usual spot in complete silence, not even sparing the packed desks a glance as he focuses on the music in his airpods. Unfortunately for him, this is how he misses a set of eyes that landed him from the moment he walked in.

He also misses the way she interrupts herself from talking to her friends to stare at him wide-eyed, not used to seeing him in anything but an oversized sweater. She looks him up and down in awe, from the glasses that sit on top of his beanie to his black turtleneck that’s decorated with a silver Cuban chain necklace. Then to his long sleeves that are rolled up to his elbows, showing off his watch and shiny rings. “Oh. My. Gosh.” She excuses herself from her friends and gathers her things, running after him.

The boy in question finally makes it to his secluded spot with no extra social interaction and he sets up his study supplies around the table, making sure to put his bag in the empty chair beside him. He looks around, smiling to himself at the lack of people around and the giant window beside him that shows off the cloudy weather. It might be cringe, but fuck do I love this weather. He double-checks his bag for his umbrella and pulls out his laptop. It boots up quickly and he types in the pincode just in time to see a blob of white in the corner of his eye.

“Hannie!!!" He hears it through his music. He turns his head to see you moving towards him with a big smile. Speak of the devil..

He can’t stop his eyes from darting down to her chest, even if he wanted to, and he watches it shake as she prances up to him happily. The girl hugs his arm and looks him up and down again, “You look so good!!” Her right hand detaches from his arm to trace the pattern of his necklace, “I’ve never seen you in anything but a big sweater.. You should dress like this more often!” He flushes at the compliment, looking around nervously because he knows that she never wanders around alone. “T-Thank you.. My friend is having a birthday party later but I wanted to study a little bit before I went..”

Her shiny lips pucker as she continues to shamelessly check him out. He immediately notices that instead of her usual red-pink tint, it's now a light red gloss. “Ooo, that sounds like fun! Can I sit with you? I promise I won’t get in the way!” He watches the pout form on her lips and his gaze shifts up, taking in the full pleading expression and puppy eyes. Their eyes meet and his dick twitches. God damn you. He nods reluctantly, taking one last look around to make sure nobody is near before sitting.

He expects her to take the seat across from him but is shocked as he watches her carefully hang his bag on the back of his chair and take the seat directly beside him. She sets her pink bunny bag on the table and crosses her legs, tilting her head to nosily look at his screen. She smiles and bites her lip to hold back a chuckle at his wallpaper, all black with some depressed emo-lord anime character in the corner. He normally would have flinched at the pure audacity and lack of privacy, but his eyes were too focused on something else.

Who the fuck casually wears thigh highs like those.. and why is her dress so fucking short again?!? He gulps, watching as she stretches and as the dress lifts farther up her thighs. He finds himself in yet another situation where if she opened her thighs even the slightest, he would get a glimpse of her panties. And by whatever god is out there, she actually does. Her legs separate for a moment and she stretches them out too before crossing them again.

His jaw drops slightly and he starts to drool, almost forgetting where he’s at completely. Baby-pink, partially sheer, and lace. I’m going to fucking die.. He discreetly adjusts himself in his pants but is all too nervous this time to do anything more. I know damn well one of her goons is around here somewhere..

He instead revels in the newfound discovery. It only lasts a short while longer due to her speaking up again. She brings up their upcoming project, one that was announced just a few days prior, and confidently asks him to be her partner for it. His eyes widened slightly, I literally just convinced that professor to let me do it alone.. He opens his mouth to respond but is cut off.

“Yo- Who’s this freak?”

Han flinches at the sound of a new voice, a deeper, nasally one that he recognizes all too well. Fucking knew it. He glances over to see one of the shithead frat boys that glues himself to her side in hopes that she’ll fuck him. He stares down at Han with a frown, looking him up and down before turning to the girl.

“That’s not nice, Juwon. This is Hannie! He’s my friend.” Han watches as she turns to the other man. He can’t see her expression but from the annoyed eye roll from him, he can only assume it wasn’t anything good. He hears a faint “Don’t be an ass.” before she turns her back to him and looks at Han with an apologetic smile.

He returns the smile and turns his attention back to his laptop, finally getting some work done as the two of them chat beside him. Han picks up on some words here and there, something about a party next week that his frat is throwing. He faintly picks up on a “plus one” agreement but ultimately pushes it to the back of his head.

He doesn’t get much farther on the document. Instead of focusing on it as he should have, his brain only goes back to those pretty pink panties he got a glimpse of. Eventually, he gives up completely on the work and puts on a youtube video to pretend to watch as he zones out. The two beside him talk for some more time before she shoos him away, teasingly complaining with a “Look! You made me distract Hannie!” and “We were in the middle of something, shoo shoo!”

From the corner of his eye, he watches the boy stare at him angrily for a moment before finally leaving. Once he’s out of sight she turns to Han again, apologizing to him sweetly with those shiny eyes looking up at him. He laughs it off and closes the video, reopening the document to work on his assignment again.

She quietly watches as he finally manages to fill out all the questions, scrolling through her phone while she waits. When he sighs, stretches, and starts to digitally turn in the assignment, she finally places her phone on the table.

He suddenly feels a hand on his thigh. She taps it at first but when he turns to meet her gaze, she rests it flatly across his thigh. “Hannie? About the project, we should meet up at my house tomorrow to work on it.” She smiles and looks up at him. The mere thought of stepping foot into her bedroom has his eye twitching. “Y-Yeah, sure..” Wait. I didn’t even agree to do it with you yet?? 

She pulls his laptop towards her body, leaning in slightly as she creates a new powerpoint document and adds herself to it as a collaborator. While she does so, he lets his gaze fall to her chest. Her cardigan had fallen off her shoulders, giving him the perfect view of her collarbone and upper chest. As she leaned into the screen more, it even gave him a small glimpse of her bra-ridden boobs as her dress fell forward. And they fucking match with the panties?? He subconsciously leans forward, trying to get a look at her nipples-

“There we go!” He jumps and backs away, watching her lean backward and turn to look up at him, “I added myself so we can start the blueprint before you come over.” Oh, I’ll ‘come’ all right. He clears his throat and nods, taking back his laptop so he can pack it away into his bag. He feels her eyes on him but ignores it as best as he can until he runs out of items to pack away.

She looks up at him through her eyelashes, her perfume now flooding his senses as she leans into him more. He sees her lips move, but his eyes can’t choose which thing to focus on and it leads to him completely ignoring what she said. “H-Huh?” In the distraction of her pretty looks and her delicious smell, he almost missed the way her hand returned to his thigh. He did not, however, miss the way her hand slid up his thigh when she leaned in more.

“I asked if you were okay. You look sick again.” She goes on to describe something about how it looks like he has a cold. He would have cared, and he should have! He was going to until she turns her head away to greet a passing friend, causing her hand accidentally slide against his bulge. It's that point that makes him completely lose his sense of morality.

He freezes in place, body all sweaty as he tries to process what is going on. He knows he should have said something, and he honestly tried to! But the only thing that came out of his mouth was a shaky breath almost followed by a moan until he bit his lip harshly. The warmth of her hand seeps through his pants and he can’t help but soak in it. He turns his head to the window, pretending to watch the passing cars as he leans back to lets her hand rest better against his dick.

He only turns back towards her when he hears goodbyes get exchanged. “Oh, Hannie.. You see what I mean?? Now your face is all red!” She leans forward even more and accidentally pushes down more on his dick, making his breath hitch as he closes his eyes tightly. “Y-Yeah but you…. Your h-hand..” He nods his head down at his crotch, not trusting himself to hold back the moan that he feels crawling out of his throat. It was silent after that, but he could tell the exact moment she realized what happened when she gasped.

She remove her hand and her normally sweet, calm voice becomes panicked, “Oh! C-Crap.. I’m so sorry Hannie! I thought that was still your leg..” He clears his throat and adjusts his sitting position with a red face. Eventually not being able to find any comfort, he just stands up and snatches his bag before moving away. “I-I gotta go! I’ll.. text you..?” He says it in a questioning tone but gives her no time to respond as he beelines it for the bathroom, keeping his head down and covering his crotch with his bag the whole way.

He throws the door open and slams it shut, making sure the stalls are empty before locking the main door. The bag with his laptop is almost thrown onto the sink and forgotten about as he unbuttons his pants, pulling down the fabric alongside his boxers. His dick twitches the second it meets the cold bathroom air and he stares down at it in awe. His tip is an angry red and his whole length twitches repeatedly as he recalls the feeling of her hand against it, albeit clothed.

He wraps his hand around himself to relieve some of the pain, squeezing it even more as he starts to jerk off. He’s so riled up from everything that took place in the span of a singular hour so it doesn't take long to build up his orgasm. His mind starts to wander as it usually does: starting with fantasizing about her pretty, glossy lips wrapped around his dick. But this time it quickly changes to the image of her hand wrapped around him. He wonders how soft her hands would be and if they could even fit around his entire width.

Then he’s overwhelmingly reminded of the other events. Her thigh-highs, her bra… her underwear. He moans a little too loudly at the memory that's now engraved in his mind. The sight of the skin there, covered in sheer, baby-pink lace. Fuck. If only she opened her legs a little more. Maybe I could’ve seen her pretty pussy.. He imagines it. Now knowing what the skin down there looks like leaves little to no room for imagination. He can easily guess what her folds would look like, ugh. and that pretty clit..

He throws his head back, legs shaking and stomach squeezing tightly as his hand speeds up. The sound of wet squelching fills the room as he paints ropes, some of it getting onto his hand, but most of it landing on the two-toned floor tiles. He lets out desperate whines towards the ceiling as he continues to cum even more than usual. When he’s finally finished painting the floor he lets shaky breathes leave his lips. His eyes trace the messy pattern on the floor as the sounds of his breathing echo around the bathroom.

He manages to clean himself up and goes to grab napkins to wipe the floor before he realizes that he still has a birthday party to go to. He glances at his watch for a moment and groans when he realizes that he’s going to be late now.

This girl is going to be the death of me.

Taglist: (purple=can't be tagged)

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina @rylea08 @grandma143 @caught-in-the-afterglow @yaorzu-blog @jabmastersupriseee

@easypeezylemonsquezy @iiriam @soaplickerrr @kimahreummm @seungfl0wer @4l17h4 @moonlightshostage

[sugusluttydoll]

Geto as your baby daddy. 🎧ྀིྀི

˚⊱🪷⊰˚ - How Geto would treat you while you’re pregnant + how he treats his baby.

⎯⎯ author’s note : hi ! this is just a filler post until I finish the NSFW hc’s for Geto. ^_^

• While you’re still pregnant, he would help you fall asleep by stroking your hair so so so gently to the point his touch feels like a feather.

◦I’d like to think that he prefers to sleep with your belly nestled between the two of you for his own comfort and yours, of course.

• The most hands-on man you’ll ever meet. Even though he’s never held a baby before, he takes the time to learn how to handle them with most care. Probably got so good at it to the point he could hold the baby in one arm while doing something else with the other.

◦We all know that Geto absolutely hates non-sorcerers, so he has his doubts about his reactions to your baby being a non-sorcerer. You two are his only exceptions when it comes to non-sorcerers.

• Will never and I mean NEVER dismiss any silly idea the baby has. He will have the most serious look on his face while listening to the idea.

◦Tries his absolute best to talk normally around the baby. Mainly because you scold him for not teaching them the proper way to say certain words.

• He worries about how the baby will think about him whenever they get older and find out that Geto hates non-sorcerers. He doesn’t want his own child to think of him in a bad way.

◦He most definitely would learn how to tie a baby carrier around himself so he can take them everywhere with him.

• I truly believe that Geto would do everything in his power to make sure his kid has the best childhood imaginable. Even if it means dropping certain things to make it happen.

◦While cleaning out things you guys don’t need anymore, he would come across things the baby doesn’t use anymore. Definitely would make him tear up knowing that his baby is growing up and wants to try new things.

[kyliekast]

I am politely begging for more of baby daddy!patrick zweig 🥲🙏🏾

i'll take any excuse to talk about it like literally any. please send asks about baby daddy patrick or baby daddy art or baby mama ex-wife tashi like i need it

you both went to the tennis academy and fucked around sophomore year, but you didn't ever take it seriously since you knew about patrick's reputation; however, unbeknownst to you, he stopped sleeping with other people completely while you two were fucking around. he had feelings. they never got acted on, though, because he doesn't think he can maintain a relationship, and before he might have had the chance to, you found out you were pregnant at the start of junior year.

you'd slept with a couple other guys, yes, but only patrick without protection, often, and using the ever-reliable pull out method. you're sure he's came inside at least a few times when you two were drunk as well. there was no question about whether he was the dad when your boy was born. they're twins, to the hair to the eyes to the smile.

your family is wealthy, so you decided to leave school to work for them. you expected patrick to not be in the picture and just send child support, as that seems like a very him way of going about it, but you were surprised when he wanted to take an active role. amazing for your son, obviously. awful for you.

he'll text you and ask things like, did you pack his bear onesie, and it'll be day three, so you know he's already gone through what you packed, and that yes, the onesie is there. he'll ask the same thing twice. he'll tack on questions about your life with questions about your boy. the articulate, wyd. they're thinly-veiled stabs at getting back into your space, and sometimes, they work.

during your son's first hanukkah (for those who don't know pat is jewish in the script), you go to drop him off for the week at pat's family estate, and he insists that you come in for food, a chat, coffee or tea or anything. and you do, because you've been craving his mom's challah since the last time you had it.

you sit together in the living room while patrick bottle feeds him, surprisingly competent. from his texts, you thought he was useless. you guess not. his hands are so big and your baby is so small he can hold him with one arm, a palm splayed across his head, big and swathing.

"he's hungry," pat says.

"he's always hungry. like you."

"you fucked up that challah and jam."

"i'm gonna kidnap your mom."

you both laugh, and it feel normal for a brief second, until you clear your throat.

"so, um. when you're on tour after the junior open coming up -- "

"i'm not going on tour. i'm gonna wait until he's old enough to travel."

you're surprised, and you can't hide it. tour's all patrick's talked about, all he's ever wanted. to win. the glory. the acclaim. your brow furrows. "oh. okay."

"i was just gonna work with art on his grandma's farm for now. when we're on break and stuff."

"you guys are, like. jack and ennis reincarnated."

he rolls his eyes, but he's smiling.

you laugh, "i can't imagine you doing manual labor."

he shrugs. "it's not manual labor, it's mainly taking care of the animals and stuff."

"the fact that art's gonna be around is weirdly reassuring."

"oh, he loves him."

"jesus christ," you groan jokingly, "i should've let art knock me up instead."

patrick stares blankly for a couple seconds, then forces this pitiful, gritted laugh, averting eye contact and looking back down at your baby. it's silent, you finishing your tea and patrick rocking him until he falls asleep. he speaks again, "wanna help me put him to bed?"

"yeah. of course."

you walk into the nursery. the last time you saw it -- there's no way you're not seeing what patrick zweig keeps your baby in over summers and breaks --, it was cute and decorated, but now, it's filled. it looks like patrick's spent every single day at toy and furniture and decor stores. there's a mural on the baby blue walls of an ocean. "oh, this is adorable."

"mhm." patrick sets him in the crib and gently swoops the downy patch of hair off his forehead. "i think he's knocked out."

"puppy tummy."

he looks at you, confused.

you explain, "like, when puppies drink a lot of milk, their bellies get full and they sleep a lot."

"that's cute." when he says it, he's still looking at you. that's cute. no, you're cute.

you're weak, too. so weak for that lopsided smile that's slowly creeping onto his face. the second he sees your blush, you know it's over. he's found an opening, and he's gonna take it.

you clamber into his bedroom, the house big enough for you to lack subtlety, and he pulls your sweater over your head and gropes your tits through your bra. "they're so much bigger now -- "

"fuck off -- " you're sitting on top of his lap, feverishly unbuttoning his shirt. knowing your son, he could wake up any second.

"i didn't say i don't like them normally," he grumbles, thumbing your hard nipples. "just making an observation." he flicks one.

you hiss, "fuck you -- "

"you're being a bitch."

"are you gonna take your dick out or not?"

"i want you to ask for it." patrick holds your wrists and grins, expectantly looking up at you. "say please."

"no." you don't bother with fighting his grip. he's much stronger than you, even if you two are equally stubborn.

"then we're not fucking."

"then we're not fucking, patrick."

the mental image you plant settles stronger than his empty threat, and his desperation wins out. he untucks his cock through his pants, and it's the same as you remember it: hairy, thick, and lengthy, a hot mouthful. you wonder if he tastes the same. musky, sweaty.

"do you have a condom?"

he doesn't hide his disappointment and sulks, "yeah. nightstand."

you huff then reach to the top drawer, pawing through a playboy, a playgirl (honestly, you didn't not expect that), and gum wrappers before you find a condom in the back corner. "do you want another one?"

"would it be so terrible?"

you don't answer that. he sounds too sad.

after finding the condom, you set it on top of the drawer and let patrick prep you, his hands crawling up your skirt to spread your legs. where you sit, his cock's sheathed under your panties and through your ass cheeks, while his pants press your pussy. you're undone from his fingers, moaning into his neck, teething on his ear. it's relieving to not have to explain what you like to get a good lay. patrick already knows.

"you're so wet," he grunts, and he's right -- you're so soaked his fingers' thrusts sound squishy. he rubs the textrous part inside of you, and you quiver, hands bracing on his shoulders as your cunt tightens. "mmm -- you could stay here all fucking hanukkah, let me feed you, buy you fucking presents, eat this pretty pussy every morning -- you know my family loves you, they'd love you being here -- they think i need to cuff you fucking yesterday --"

he skims his thumb's knuckle over your clit, and you're cumming, legs too splayed around his lap to close, so you're embarrassingly pried open, your cunt clenching. you whine in his ear, broken, high-pitched. "pat -- oh, fuck, pat -- " he keeps his fingers working until you start squirming, the grind of your ass on his cock becoming too much.

with your panties pulled to the side, his condomed cock slips in easily, and when it does, he moans louder than you, his hands hard on your ass, fingertips a bruising brute force. not on purpose. he just can't help himself when it's you. "jesus christ, missed your pussy so fucking much." you're pliant, so he starts thrusting right away. the force sends you leaning into his chest. his dick slaps against your ass every time he sinks in. "other guys don't fuck you like me, do they?"

you say nothing, but you whimper, burying your face into his neck.

you expect it when he pulls your hair. not hard, just enough to make you look at him. "do they?" he slows to hard, pumping thrusts, like he's milking your cunt.

"they don't," you moan, head lolling against his tug. "they don't -- god, just fuck me, pat, fuck me -- please -- "

he does, releasing your hair. after pounding you raw, he cums with a long, husky moan, eyes rolling, the back of his head against his headboard. the condom fills with cum, and you feel its barrier swelling with warmth every time your pussy twitches.

you pull off and lay beside him for a second, catching your breath. your panties are too wet to keep wearing, so you strip them off, kicking them somewhere in the room. when you open your eyes, you see patrick looking at you.

"i was thinking -- "

"you do that?"

"never mind," he laughs, pushing his sweaty curls off his forehead. "... you did end up saying please."

"alright, i'm leaving." his ego's practically pushing you out of the room. when you stand, pulling your sweater over your head, you realize you can't see your panties through the utter man of his room, messy and disorganized. they're dark, too. you groan.

"what?"

"nothing. i just -- look, i -- my family's doing, like -- a thing today, so i have to go." they're not. you just need out of there.

after you leave, patrick's scrambling for your panties. he took note of where they landed.

[cokou]

𝚂𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚊 𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚘 + 𝙰𝚌𝚎 × 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

sum. Forcing your boyfriend to adopt a new fuzzy friend into the household, maybe you've spent too much time with the fuzzy. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tw. Fluff. Jealousy. Law's and Ace's a bit longer cause, favoritism. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ a/n. New writing style! We could never go wrong with loving fuzzy and cute animals!! Dont transfer or translate in any platforms,this is my only account, will not be cross posted anywhere! masterlist♡

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝙻𝚊𝚠

After joining the Heart Pirates and dating their captain, your number one entertainment is to soend time with Bepo and Law. While Bepo does feel embarrassed for your acts to him, you absolutely felt like he's a huge cuddly bear more than a scary one.

He even complained to Law himself that he should get you your very own fuzzy friend since you've bothered Bepo so much he couldn't face you anymore without getting embarrassed! Law, the asshole he is, refused to get you one.

You very much enjoyed the idea and pestered Law into getting you one yourself and have some dignity for Bepo, then, he finally agreed. You both visited a pet shop, and just with it's entrance you couldn't leave anymore. Inside were full of cute animals waiting to be adopted, you just wanted to take them all.

"(Name)-Ya, what about this guy?" He pointed and peeked into the small cage, and there, was a white fluffy kitty who has just woken up from its slumber. Yes, perfect! It looked so cute and cuddly! You already fell inlove with it just by looking! "Awh, look at how much she resembles Bepo!"

You both took her back, and upon your arrival you set her free in her new home, the sub.

For the past few weeks, your attention had been glued to your new friend, not wanting anything on your path. It was so bad you had more pictures of her than you and Law combined! And the way you trip because you watch her instead of where you were going.

Law on the other hand, was definitely not feeling it, he felt like the white furball just replaced him with everything! You shared a bed with her, she gets your attention, she gets to be with you all day! If he were honest, he would blurt out how jealous he was for the furball.

In which, you suspected him for. "Law, are you really okay? You've been quiet and only staring since you sat down."

"I told you I am okay, don't worry." He finally let out a sigh after realizing you weren't with the kitten anymore, that was until he heard meow, and behind you was the kitten. You picked her up and setted her into your lap, receiving a piercing glance from Law.

"Are you okay? You're doing the stare aga— ohhhh..." You had finally realized that he was jealous, not by anyone, but the kitty that you've been giving attention to.

"What?" "Don't tell me you're jealous of our little furball!" You laugh at him. "What?! W-why the hell would you think that?"

"Law, it's quite obvious...come here, lay with us." You invited him with open arms and he jumped right into you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝙻𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚢

Ever since Chopper had joined the Straw Hats, you couldn't take your hands off his cheeks and head, continuesly patting and hugging him from his cuteness. Even your boyfriend, Luffy had agreed!

Chopper was definitely nice to have around, when you're stressed? You pat him. When you need to let it out? Hug him. He's just so cute and fuzzy! The way you'd kill people when you hear them talk bad about Chopper, because you refuse to let people think that he was a monster.

Eventually Luffy thought that you and Chopper became best friends of how you two always chatter about everything, at first he taught it's what makes the crew more unique.

But eventually, after a month, he noticed how you'd been glued with the reindeer all the time. He taught it was normal since you two were best friends but, this time you might have crossed the line.

"(Name)!! I'm hungry, can you cook meat?" He asked you with the usual big smile on his face. "Oh no Luffy, could you ask Sanji? I'm hanging out with Chopper today.." Bad Idea, you never refused to cook him meat even if you were busy. He knew you enough to just refuse to cook meat for him. The way he frowned as you waved him and went into the dock with Chopper.

Later that night, when everyone was asleep, you felt someone tugging your clothes. "Pst, (Name)." It was Luffy.

"Eh? Luffy? Why are you awake at a time like this.." you groggily whispered. "Just come here" You spproach his area and he pulled you with him.

"Finally some peace between us" He gave you a big grin and placed his hand on your back. "It's been a while you know— you've always been with Chopper."

"Luffy, wh— are you jealous of Chopper?" You came with a conclusion that maybe, just maybe he got jealous of your constant hanging out eith Chopper.

"Hmm...is that how you name it, (Name)? If so then yes!" You plopped your hands on his chest and gave him a giggle. "You could've said so earlier, i would've spent more time with you, Lu"

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝙺𝚒𝚍𝚍

It was 100% your idea, you had convinced Eustass to bring company of an animal into the Victoria Punk. Not only because you had no one to talk to other than Killer or Kidd himself, but simply because it was boring out in the ship.

Lucky for you, Kidd agreed to get you one of your choice, in exchange of...things. So you decided to get a Cat of your choice, simply after declaring it's recruitment into the Kidd Pirates. You gave every ounce of your attention to it, even if it means opening the door of the bathroom when you take a shower just incase the furball could come inside and pet itself across your legs.

Well that only happened twice, what DID happen was Eustass peeking at you while taking a shower, which happened about 90% of the time. You didn't mind though.

Back to our fur friend, it bothered the cleaners of the ship on how they'd find furry hair on every furniture they clean. Kidd even complained that your shared bed was full of cat fur and that it was sticking onto his skin! But you couldn't careless.

Everytime you had a chance to sit, the cat eould latch itself into your lap, preventing you from standing up and doing business. Because standing would mean disrespectful!

Now we have an angry Eustass, whenever he wants you to be around him your excuse would always be 'But theyre on my lap' and 'im playing with them give me a while' He was getting fed up with both you and the cat itself.

So you're at the comfort place in the ship, with Kidd having a staring contest with the animal on your lap, whilst you read a book a chill. Then suddenly he spoke up, "Okay that's enough." He stood up, took the cat and placed it outside the room.

"Why'd you do that for?!"

"Oh please, you have all your attention on that animal since it stepped foot into the ship, give it a break." He scoffed.

"Or you're just jealous because i give it more attention than you?" Oh, NOW you're dead. "JEALOUS?? Why would i be jealous over a stupid furry?!" He was. He was 100% jealous.

"Okay first of all, it's not a stupid furry! And second of all, you seem pretty defensive, if you're jealous just say it."

"WHAT?! No im n—"

"—Which, you definitely are, come here you big baby. I'll give you the attention you deserve." You cutted him off, now you're gonna be in big trouble.

"And i expect the attention to be filled, get on the bed fucker." It would definitely be a longggg night.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝙰𝚌𝚎

He IS the one who suggested to get a furry friend. He'd definitely be the type to adopt a puppy, and then proceed to name it one of the most basic names ever. You could see the disappointment in Marco's face when he found out he named the precious puppy 'Oreo' because it's fur was Black AND White.

He had gotten you the precious puppy as a gift for your birthday as he found out you're into having pets, and your reason? They were CUTE as hell. He had gotten you a puppy who's fur is at the brownish side.

"Hmm, what should we name him?!" "OH! OH! I know! Brownie!"..."Are you being serious, Ace?" You looked at him, praying that the name he suggested was only for sarcasm, but you were taken aback from his response. "What do you mean babe? Of course i am! It's such a perfect name for him!"

"It's... one of the most basic names I've ever heard. " You spared him a straight face, sending shivers down his spine. "Okay, okay I'll think of another name! Hm..how about Cookie?" Yeah he doesn't have naming privileges anymore.

In the end you both sticked into the name you had chosen for the puppy. Everything was going great for the first week, you buying him all the stuff he needed, the most high qualited dog food, and even his own supplies had beaten yours! With an average of spending atleast thoudands of Berries a week.

The second week hadn't been different at all, except for the fact that now that the puppy was growing, it became even more plsyful towards you. Meaning you, had soent almost all your time with it. On the other hand, your boyfriend Ace, ended up getting bitten at the hand for trying to take away it's toy that you gave.

"Babe! Do you see those eyes that's looking at me right now?! It looks like it's gonna KILL me!" Ace climbed up on a chair when he entered the house unannounced and the dog had decided to chase him for dear life.

"Come one Bae, he won't hurt you like at all! He's an angel!" You petted the dog, causing him to sit. "Yeah if it was opposite day I would've believed you! look at him, it looks like it's gonna bite my limbs of one by one!"

"Come on Ace! He won't bite you!" As soon as you reassured Ace thst nothing eould happen if he stepped down, he tried lowering his left foot down, causing the dog the fully bark at him. "SEE?!" Ace's voice was almost crying.

"Bad dog! You know he's the one who brought you to me right?! He's basically your dad! Go to your bed!" The dog whimpers then climbs it's bed.

"You know, after this i expect a full week of attention all mine! Okay?!" Ace pouts and settles himself down from the chair. You gave him a reassuring kiss, "I promise,"

©Cokou 2024, all works made by me.

[namjooningera]

I'm unsure if your Request are open, deeply apologizing if I disturbed you.

: Need more yandere captivated stuff, like them constantly clinging to their sweet love, locking the bedroom door at night and only giving their captivated lover permission to leave the room only if they're awake. ♡

mwa, absolutely love your writing.

Their rules - Yandere JJK

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji

AN: the boys’ rules for you, plus them being clingy. A bit of the past and background before they kidnapped u ;3

TW: starving, slight Stockholm syndrome, manipulative

Ahhhh yess requests are open thanks for asking!! (≧∇≦)b

Gojo-

Hes unbearable. His rules are short and simple, but the man himself is insufferable.

He clings onto you, legs around your thighs, head on your chest, while you lay in bed. You try to push him off, but the man is so much bigger than you. He doesn’t move an inch, it was like trying to move a brick wall.

You remember the first time he giddily told you the rules.

“Ok ok listen-“ he said in the middle of giggles, then straightened up his back to look serious but it was obvious he was still giddy.

“Hum.. No touching the stove when I’m around, No watching tv, that’s a reward not a privilege, you can earn watching it. No ignoring me, no sleeping without giving me a kiss or cuddles.”

He hums. “there isn’t much sweet thing…I just want you to be happy.” But his smile is sickly and you know there’s more to what he’s saying.

You know there’s unspoken rules he doesn’t say, like how you need to constantly keep him in a good mood.

When you were first taken by him, you rejected his every advance. Every time he wanted kisses or cuddles or even something simple, like for you to look at him. You said no, turned away, and slumped in bed.

At first he let it go. He was patient. He was just happy that you were there. That you couldn’t talk to others, look at others, and your attention would all be to him in no time.

But you refused this little charade, and you could see him slowly start to become more agitated. It’s when he stopped coming home to make you dinner (the dinner you barely ever touched anyway), and the way you felt like he was forgetting about you.

He’d always refill the things you ran out of. The bottle of water on your-his nightstand. The sanitary items and hygiene products you use. He’d always refill the pantry with all your favorite snacks and sweets.

But he stopped. And that got scary. Your mind was already in shambles, now you were thinking, what if he’s going to leave you for dead? Stop refilling, stop visiting, until you pass away in this locked hell.

Finally, he came home tonight. Around midnight. He never came that late before- it was always around 8 pm or 9 when he was really late, he always made sure to come home early enough to make you dinner.

You were starving, and you peeked from the hallway to see him stumble in, then throw himself on the sofa and then the tv on.

You weren’t really allowed to watch tv. You wonder if you could earn it. You watched him slump over, eyes heavy with a glare. He never really looked like this, honestly he always looked giddy and happy. Happy to come home to you. But now he just looked angry, upset, pissed. But it never seemed like it was to you.

He never showed you he hates you, he just stopped trying- stopped talking to you.

But why did that seem scarier than just straight up punishing you?

You slowly took a few steps out of your peeking spot, to be in his eyesight. Normally he’d be delighted, thinking you came to ask him for something or you wanted to talk, anything really. But this time he didn’t even look up from the tv. As if you weren’t there, as if he didn’t notice you.

That just added to your nervousness.

So you decided to do something incredibly stupid.

You hated his giddy happy side, but for some reason, you missed it know. At least before, the aura of the home stayed light and happy. Even if you weren’t happy. But now, the tension is fucking palpable. It’s heavy, and disgusting. You feel scared to even walk a few steps that’s how heavy the air feels right now.

Slowly you walk over to him. He doesn’t budge. His arms are spread at the top of the sofa as his body slumps back onto the sofa. His legs are up on the coffee table, eyes directed solely to the tv.

You sit next to him carefully. Slowly, you start to scoot over to him, slowly. So that his arm over the sofa would carefully be put over you.

Finally you scooted close enough that your thighs touched, and that your head slightly leaned onto his shoulder.

You were scared he’d hit you, scream at you, hurt you. He’d never done that before but what was stopping him from doing it now? Yes he was gonna hurt you for being stubborn for ignoring him, he’s gonna-

“I missed you.” He said with a sigh, eyes tired that bore into you, his voice was almost shaky, it was obvious he wasn’t feeling well. The arm laying on the top of the couch fell onto your shoulders, pulling you in. Cradling your body.

“You hungry?”

Yes, fuck yes. You’ve barely eaten in the last few days, solely relying on your pantry of snacks and sweets alone to quench your hungry, since he stopped making meals for you.

You nodded quickly and he smiled softly and ruffled your hair.

“Alright- too tired to cook. Let’s just order in ok?”

You nod immediately, digging yourself in more into his body. He smiles at this. You know you shouldn’t be touching him, listening to his dumb rules and letting him control you like this.

But you couldn’t help it. Things were just so much easier when he was happy. You got to eat, watch tv, and sure, you hated touching him, but he was just so warm.

That’s why, fast forward to now, you let him cling onto you in bed. Whining bout his day and how he doesn’t have enough time with you. How if he could just open your rib cage and snuggle inside, stay warm and with you forever he would. You think he’s crazy, weird, gross, but you don’t comment on it. You let him think your okay with all this, you let him nibble on your collarbone and let him whisper how he’s never gonna let you go, how your his for life and how he loves you like none before.

He’s warm. You notice. You notice his heartbeat, his breath on your collarbone, his eyes full of hearts and swelling with love. The way he huffs every time you slightly move away.

“H-hey umm I need to use the toilet can you move-“

“Can I come?”

Oh god.

Geto-

His rules were unknown honestly. He didn’t outright say any, he wanted you to think you had freedom. Like you weren’t being held hostage in his home. As if you were just his lover living with him. Like you had free rein.

As if he didn’t lock the bedroom door every night, thinking you were fast asleep. Like he didn’t keep track of every time you used the restroom, the shower, did your skincare and ate. As if he didn’t have those times and dates and stamps of every time you did so, so he could keep track of every little thing you did.

He wanted you to be happy and free in your home, he called it. After it all, he built it on all your necessities, all the things you use and like, so it is your home. It was made for you.

But there are the unspoken rules.

He hates when you get up from bed in the night, to go use the restroom. He wakes up in a jump, eyes wide and exploring the room, his hands roughly shoving the blankets off the bed to see your not there.

He panics. And he knows he shouldn’t. There are alarms everywhere, he has a tracker on you, he knows when you leave and when you stay and where you are at all times. He gets up quickly however, feet scampering to the bathroom door where he knocks on it slightly, asking you to come out.

He’s always been an okay-amount of clingy. But he panics a lot. He doesn’t show it- but he does. He thinks you’ll leave, you’ll die- or something. Maybe someone else will snatch you- a “monkey” or some curse. He’s seen the real world he knows how dangerous the average person can be so could you imagine blood thirsty curses? Ready to swipe your small body at any second and have you for a second dinner?

He’d never let that happen.

And he wants you to reassure him. He won’t ask for it but he needs it. Desperately. Tell him you won’t leave, you won’t die, that your safe- that he’s safe. That you’ll be together forever.

But you don’t. Because you hate him.

You use to, when you two were actually friends- no, best friends. You’d tell him all the time that he was safe with you, that your his best friend and you’d make sure that the both of you live a long and healthy life- together.

And that’s what stayed in his mind. Why’d you break your promise? Why’d you have to stop telling him these sweet things? Is it not true anymore? Are we not safe? Are you gonna leave- be taken away? Don’t leave.

He wakes from a bitter nightmare that same night. A treacherous feeling crawling his spine, panic in his eyes and his body thrashing. He looks at you. His sweet Angel. You could never do him wrong. But he needs your comfort, your reassurance.

“Angel? Angel wake up, please.”

You refused to, ignoring his please. The truth is, his panicking in his sleep woke you long ago, but you didn’t want to wake him up from his little nightmare. You perhaps wanted him to suffer just a little longer.

“Angel? P-please just..”

You rolled your eyes, body facing away from him on your side, still faking your sleep. He could deal with this on his own. You know one of his huge rules was to comfort him and nurse him like you used to- one of his unspoken rules. You know this because just a day after he kidnapped you, he came home with what he called “monkey blood” all over him.

He wanted you to clean him. Tell him to stop calling humans monkeys. He wanted you to bring him back, to keep him from the evil that plastered his mind. Because you were the only one who kept him a clear head, that kept him sane and on earth. Otherwise, who knows what he’d be now?

That day, when you didn’t comfort him, the day after he kidnapped you, he became desperate. Begging you almost, but then he stopped. Like a cloud of indifference and anger covered his eyes and he grabbed you by the arm, pulling you into a closet and locking you in.

You screamed, yelled, begged him to let you out. You went through all stages of grief basically, angrily screaming, then begging, tearing up, then calming down and crawling into a little ball in the corner of the closet. It was dark, cold, miserable. Dust got in your hair and eyes, you tried to dust it away with your hands but you felt so dirty. You just hoped he’d let you out soon.

He only left you for an hour or two- you don’t really remember. He didn’t wanna be too harsh on your first punishment. He still loved you after all, you were just being a brat. But then he dragged you out and sat you down at the dinner table. He acted like nothing was wrong, smiling at you and picking up a spoon of the food he made. He put it to your mouth, trying to feed you. You shook and trembled. You knew you couldn’t say no, or who knows how long he’d keep you in that damn closet? At least you’re free now right? You ate the food off his spoon, and let him feed you for the rest of dinner.

He was so incredibly happy that you were obeying him so early in the “relationship”, that he didn’t put you back into the closet, but instead let you watch tv. Of course, not without him sitting under the couch, while you sat on the sofa with your legs dangling on his shoulders, brushing his hair and braiding it like you did when you two were best friends. Before things changed.

“Angel please, I need you.” He almost whimpered.

You sighed, and got up, turning your body to him. “What was the dream bout this time?”

He’s always had nightmares, about different things. When you were best friends, he refrained from telling you them. Just wanted you to tell him it was okay, he just wanted to hear your voice and be lulled back to sleep.

Now he won’t shut up about them. Shameless, you think.

“Oh Angel.” He pulls you into his chest, a very much unwanted hug, one hand on your head and the other wrapped around your waist, he pulls the covers back on top of the both of you.

“It was terrible. You were hurt, my dear. Don’t you see why I have to keep you? You hurt- that would destroy me, my love.”

His words disgust you, but what really disgusts you is the way you know he isn’t lying. You can hear the genuine concern in his voice, that he genuinely thinks this is helping you, not just for his own selfish desire.

“Oh Angel, if you left- I wouldn’t know what to do.”

And that scares you. That scares you because he knows damn well you can’t leave. The cameras, the security, the alarms and the tracker. The way he tightly holds you as if your going to disappear into thin air. The way your almost out of oxygen with the tight hold, your chest and ribs being smushed against his. You could feel his heart beat, you could feel it trying to pounce out his rib cage.

“I won’t leave.”

What you meant to say is that you can’t leave, there’s no way for you to anyway, but you glance up at him and see that what you said was the right thing to say, a smile adoring his lips as he kissed your head softly.

“My sweet Angel. You always know what to say.”

Or you just know what he wants to hear.

Nanami-

Nanami had so many rules, regulations, all these things you had to remember.

“You need to ask me permission for certain things. Entertainment is a privilege you’ll be rewarded with. I have books and art supplies you’ll be using before screen time. Healthy snacks only- with the exception of dessert after dinner. You don’t get dessert if you’re being bad.”

He sits on the coffee table in front of you, wearing his work clothes, a nice suit and some goggles in his hands. You sit on the sofa in front of him, arms crossed in your chest out of anger but you listen anyway.

“The better you are the more freedom you have, my dear. I’d never want to take away the things that make you happy, but I can’t stop myself if your being bad. I want you in bed by midnight, or you sleep when I do. If I’m late from work and can’t make dinner I’ll send some- you’re not allowed in the kitchen until you get the privilege of it. You have a pantry full of snacks and healthy foods, and a water dispenser until I can come home and make dinner. I will make breakfast every morning.”

His damn rules and regulations go on forever, but at least you know what will make him upset and what won’t.

“Once you can prove your a good girl/boy, I’ll provide you with more electronics for your own entertainment, but screen time will be limited. I expect you to keep up with your hygiene and get enough sleep, eat well and continue your hobbies. I’d like you to greet me in the morning before I leave and at night when I come home- obviously this rule varies on the circumstances of the day.”

You sigh, further sinking into the sofa as he talks you down further.

“In the future, I expect goodbye kisses and greetings. If you ever need anything you just need to ask me. If you’re thinking on picking up a new hobby, you want new clothes, different snacks- I expect you to tell me. And lastly, you are never allowed to go to sleep angry. I know this situation isn’t ideal, but I never want to argue before bed, and sleep angry with each other. We need to hash things out everytime, I don’t think it’s fair to each other, otherwise.”

You just nod, half the things going over your head but you know you should agree.

“Alright I’ll be home early today, okay? Goodbye my dear.” He gets up and stands near the door, waiting.

You look up at him from the sofa, then realize what he’s waiting for.

“Just leave.” You say upset, curling up into the sofa. He frowns, but leaves anyway, waving goodbye.

He had just kidnapped you. What was it the second day? He abducted you last night. Let you in on all the fun rules today.

Great.

Honestly, you’re still freaking out in your head a bit about all this. At first you thought it was some curse disguised as him, but you could sense his cursed energy was all him. No trickery, no fakes, it was him. He fought so hard but you were no match for him.

You definitely could have been, and that makes you laugh. You really could have. But he’s been watching you since high school. Watching your techniques, your moves, the way your body sways in fight and the way you dodge. The way you attack, everything. You’ve fought him plenty of times to train and for fun. You never thought- you never once thought he’d use it against you.

That he memorized your every move, adapted, the way he knew exactly what way you’d fight back, what way you’d dodge what way you’d try and escape.

How could he?

You were so upset, so betrayed. It hurt so much. You curled into yourself, upset, thinking bout the way he basically took advantage of you as friends. You thought you were fighting beside him, were you really just fighting him all along?

That day he came home, and saw you laid out on the couch, dried tears on your cute pink cheeks, your body curled to protect yourself, fast asleep.

He smiles at you, but it’s a soft sentimental one, one that has a hint of sadness.

He didn’t want to hurt you. Genuinely. But he couldn’t help it. Every year, being thrown into a friendzone, every year his obsession for you grew, he wanted you as his wife not best friend, every year he saw himself grow older- and was scared. What if he grew too old to get married? To have a family? Each year you showed the same care you should your friends, nothing grew into sweet love for him, and that scared him. In high school, he waited. Hoping that you’d mature and grow to love him. He stayed by your side hoping he wouldn’t have to do anything drastic.

But the time passes anyway.

And you didn’t seem to change.

And he carries you to your bed, their bed. The bed you share. When he places you down he caresses your head and hair, you kick him away in your sleep and that hurts him so deeply. He locks the door, sits on your bed and watches you. He had to do this. Don’t you see?

The way you would smile at him, laugh with him, love his seriousness and fight beside him. He loved that all about you. You two were meant for more then a measly friendship right?

He pulls you to him in your sleep, cuddling your unconscious body, snuggling his face into your nape and softly pecking your collarbone. He smiles at the way you whine in your sleep, trying to push him away and stop being smothered.

But he loves to smother you- he won’t stop. He lays almost on top of you, head in your nape, as he softly caressed your waist and hips, pecking your collarbone, smiling dazedly, almost drunk, off the cute sleeping sounds that leave your mouth, the breaths that leave your nose, the soft heaving of your chest.

He loves how domestic this is. His wife/hubby, his adorable lover and partner. His equal and forever. He believes that you two have always been together, that you’ve always cared for him as much as he cared for you- you just don’t realize it.

He eyes become heavy. Being in your arms (not that you were trying to keep him there), reminds him how relaxed he feels in them, that they make him drowsy and almost high off the feeling. His body almost slumps over, un-tensing. He had a long day of work. It was nice to come home to his loved one, to be in your arms, to be held and to hold.

If he could stay like this forever, the time not continuing, just you and him in a warp of space where time doesn’t exist, where you could be one. Where he could cherish you and spoil you forever and ever- reliving the lovely memories from when you were young.

A smile softly sets on his face as he falls asleep snuggled to you, he thinks, that he doesn’t need to live in the past. You two can make new memories, better ones. Memories, where you actually love him, not just as a friend, but as a lover.

His lover.

Toji-

He didn’t really have rules for you. He didn’t care too much about physical affection, sure he liked the average kiss on the cheek before he left to assassin some idiot. He wanted your attention obviously, but he didn’t mind you being a brat and never giving it to him.

“Alright I’m going to work.” He’s waiting for you. He’s waiting for you to run up to him and kiss his cheeks, tell him you love him, at least wish him goodbye. He felt desperate. Sad. He wanted you to just- why are you being so bratty?

“I’m going to work.”

He’s at the door, hand on the handle. You’re sitting on the couch. He lets you watch tv, sometimes he’s happy when you accidentally come across the news channel and see all the disgusting shit on the news, all those disgusting heinous crimes. Maybe someday you’ll see those and understand. Know that he did this all for you, it’s all for your own good. As cliche as that sounds.

“Im going-“ “Ok I get it!” You basically yelled.

He seemed startled. That’s when he starts to wonder if he was giving you too much freedom. You yelled at him. How could you? You want him gone, you want him to leave.

Alright he’ll give you what you want.

That day he came home, and cleared out the pantries and locked up the fridge. He left the next morning, telling you he had some mission that’ll last a few days. You just shrugged at him like normal, pretty happy you’d get a break from him.

But you didn’t realize his plan. His stupid crazy fucking smart plan. You opened the pantry. Nothing, just a few things you can’t really eat. Like a half full jar of peanut butter, uncooked pasta, some can of tuna. You opened the other drawers and cabinets. Condiments only basically. Salts and spices. But where was the food? Ok, it’s fine. You’ll cook something, grab some things in the fridge- wait what? Why was there.. a lock? Why’s it locked? It was never locked- oh. He did this. This is your punishment.

No, you’ll take it. If he wants to be an ass- you’ll just be even pettier and go with it. Then he’ll know not to test you right? He’ll essentially get worried that your not eating, then go buy more food and unlock the fridge.

Boom. Great plan right? Wrong.

Your stomach growled. It was what, the third day in to not eating? You thought you had more resistance then that- that you could hold back for longer. But no, your stomach was in pain and you felt yourself growing weaker.

You felt yourself getting desperate.

You decided to emergency call Toji. He had one attached to the security, where you could only call him, if ever an emergency while he wasn’t home.

You went up to the little screen on the wall next to the door, an iPad connected to all the security, well only he could access that part. What you could access, is the emergency call. But before you pressed the button to call you stopped yourself. Fuck you were hungry, but you couldn’t give in. Plus you knew he was angry. He wouldn’t just give in.

You needed to sweeten him up. You knew that he won’t just give in if you ask for food.

You slightly press the button, hearing it ring for a second before he picked ul and answered.

“What?”

Normally, he’d be asking if your okay, if you needed him, what’s the emergency. You know, all that. When he was actually worried. You gulped.

“O-oh! Yeah I called because I umm.. I miss you?” Yeah, not so convincing.

“Yeah, doll?”

“..yeah. When you coming home?”

“I don’t know.”

… He’d never answer like that before. He was being so dry? What was his plan? But then, the hunger, the dizziness, the weakness in your bones- you started to overthink. You started to think that perhaps he wasn’t coming home. He was going to leave you forever in this locked cage, alone, to die. And then you thought, what if his mission is going bad? And that’s why he isn’t being clear? What if he really doesn’t know when he’s coming home because where he is, is so dangerous he isn’t sure if he even will come home?

But if he dies, you die. If he dies, you die. If he dies you die if he dies you-

“TOJI please! Please please come home I can’t- I can’t be here alone anymore- I need you. Please Toji don’t die-“

“Die? Doll? What’s wrong?”

You start to sniffle, thinking about your own death. Thinking about different ways you’d die out, and all leads to one- alone. You didn’t wanna starve to death alone. You couldn’t.

“P-please? Come home? Miss you..” the genuine upsetness in your voice seriously surprised him.

“Ok doll. I think I can get home by tonight ok?”

“Toji?” You ask softly, sniffling.

“Yeah doll?”

“I feel so sick.” You whine, clearing your throat.

It’s like you could feel him smile from the other end. “Alright doll, don’t worry, m’ coming home soon. I’ll bring you some things on my way back. Kay?”

You nod, even though you know he can’t see you nod, he chuckled over the line as if he did.

This time, when he comes home, grocery bags in hand, you run up to him to greet him. Never like you used to.

It’s funny, you almost jumped on the man, you almost hugged him, you stopped yourself before you could, your mind reminding you that he’s your captor. That you hate him, that he tricked you and he’s evil and- oh but he’s so warm. You haven’t felt physical affection for so long. And he’s just so big like a cuddly bear. And you just- you can’t have him leave again okay? This isn’t fault. You’re not about to hug him because you want to, okay? It’s just.. you don’t want him to starve you again ok? Really it’s not because you.. you think he’s so cuddly. You think he’s so warm and inviting. And you could smell the food wafting from the bags he held- did he buy takeout? Oh my god- and from your favorite fucking place-

You softly put your hands around his waist, head on his chest, just holding him gently, scared that perhaps that wasn’t him but some figment of your imagination.

“Oh sweeeheart, you missed me that much, hm?”

You just nod, feeling disgusted but oh so satisfied. You don’t wanna look at him, you know you’ll be met with some smug smirk, that smirk showing that he knows he won, that now, you won’t exactly take him for granted.

“I brought take out cmon.”

Tehe I’d let them take me 😋 anyway, thank you sm for the ask! Requests are open yall! Also feel free to give me commentary! I don’t rlly write so 😭

[unstable-samurai]

Love is Intention (pt.1)

Male Reader x Sana

word count: 7.5K

tags: possessive girl, angst, obsession, passionate fan, psychopathy, love sex, blowjob, penetration, tease, stalker, sexual fantasy, mature male reader, dom girl...

Everything started on a rainy Friday. It was the damn book launch, your return after 8 cursed years without publishing anything. Your hands were as cold as a corpse. It was a trauma. Ever since the first time you had to put your face out there to promote your work, no one showed up. It was humiliating. People walked into the bookstore at the mall and saw you sitting alone at a table with two stacks of untouched copies of your book. You stayed there for four hours, and when someone finally seemed to come over, it was just a regular customer asking where the hell the Stephen King bookshelf was. And you can bet he had a shelf dedicated just to him, he was a genre unto himself.

But, well, does that really matter now?

This terrible experience didn't stop you from becoming a best-seller, anyway. Starting from the third book signing session, people were lining up just to get your autograph and shake your hand (the selfie craze wasn't popular yet). You didn't get an exclusive shelf with your name like King, but your books were next to those of great writers like Ernest Hemingway and J.D. Salinger and even contemporary geniuses like Chuck Palahniuk. Good enough for you.

There were 5 consecutive knockouts! Each book released broke the record of the previous one. In a span of 10 years, you reached your literary stardom, and, look at that, even Stephen King read and praised one of your books (the second one, where the schizophrenic protagonist believes she killed her own husband in a fight and now must decide whether to turn herself in to the authorities or get rid of the body. Plot twist: it was the husband who killed the wife. Good surrealist shit.)

Then you never published anything again.

Problems arose and your creativity seemed to vanish, along with your desire to write. The divorce, the alcoholism, the insomnia... depression, perhaps? All of this exploded in your face at once, leading you into a self-destructive spiral that seemed endless. You almost didn’t recover from it. Well, you were still recovering, truth be told. One day at a time and all that. And, well, a new book was yet another step towards a normal and stable life again. God and the devil knew how difficult it was for you to find the strength to write again. Your new book was just a collection of short stories, but we all need to start over from somewhere, right?

And what if no one shows up?

That damn thought wouldn’t leave your mind. 8 years… it’s enough time to forget an author. How many new ones must have appeared and become best-sellers by now?

“Don’t be so nervous. It’s still early. People will show up,” said Jessie, the assistant hired by your literary agent. He was unable to attend the occasion as his wife was in labor.

“Yeah… You’re right.”

“I know thinking is kind of your job, but don’t overdo it. Come on, have some coffee.” She handed you a cup; it was very hot, helping to warm your cold, lifeless hands. Jessie continued:

“Twitter got pretty excited when the publisher announced your book’s release. It must be the rain messing things up around here.”

She was a good girl. She knew how to read people, and she also knew you needed a bit of encouragement.

"The latest news about me was about my divorce and my problems with alcohol. I'm happy to still have a bit of credibility."

"An author only loses credibility if they publish a bad book and then another one right after. You could have committed a homicide and people would still be excited for a book of yours. That whole thing about separating the author from the work, you know what I mean? Literature is a world apart."

What she said was quite accurate in your view, fortunately or unfortunately. You noticed that she was very smart for a woman of just 20 years old.

"Did you know that I published my first book when I was your age?"

"Yeah, I know! You took over the literary scene in that decade. 'Young Writer Applauded at Festival and Becomes the Newest Best-Seller of the Year.' I read that old article when I found out I was going to work with you. You were really a phenomenon. And not to take away from your art, but that handsome face of yours helped to win over some fans."

You just lowered your head and laughed timidly.

"I guess now I can't count on my young face anymore."

"'Dilfs' are the trend now, sir!"

"And what the hell is that?" you asked curiously.

Suddenly, four people entered the bookstore together. They smiled upon seeing you, and you instantly knew they had come for the autograph session. Then two more people entered. They waved at you, and you felt the nervousness take over your body again, but this time for a good reason: people kept coming in. And there were still 20 minutes left before the book launch was to begin.

You had forgotten how special a book launch could be. Unfortunately, the mark left by the first event made you forget the good part of it. But from now on, you would strive to remember only how it was a warm and memorable occasion; being a relatively private event, you were practically surrounded only by people who truly appreciated your art and you as a person.

You had just finished the author's reading part. The first 20 pages of the first story seemed to please the audience, and the applause at the end of the reading was a relief for you. When was the last time you were given a standing ovation? A long time ago, obviously. It was time for questions, Jessie had warned you in advance that there were 3 journalists among the 58 readers present, so you should be prepared to get a good headline.

"Alright, hmm, I think now is the time for questions..." you announced to the audience, somewhat nervous.

Many people raised their hands. You chose the bearded bald man with glasses.

He stood up and asked:

“We know that there was a long gap between your last book and this new one. Has your writing changed during this time? Can we expect a more mature version of you in terms of your approach to delicate events that are the highlight of your writing?”

“Great question, thank you! Well, I have always approached these themes as an ordinary man. I am not a psychologist to make a clinical and scientific approach to certain things that my characters decide to do in the story. I have always valued accessible communication with the general public. Pain and feelings are universal, and the way we deal with them tends to be different, varying from person to person. Unconsciously, my writing has matured, a result of time, I believe, but I still follow the same approach that brought me here.”

“Thank you, sir,” said the bald man. He then pressed a button on his iPhone, which he had held up the entire time you were speaking.

You glanced slightly to the side, and Jessie winked at you. Your intuition was right about him being one of the journalists.

"Next question."

You chose a young Black girl wearing a beige overcoat.

"Hello! I just want to say that I'm happy to be here! My name is Carol, and I'm a big fan of yours! Hmm, ah, my question! Let me see... According to the synopsis and now the first pages of the story you read, it seems that each story, although different from one another, is connected by a central theme, which is the lack of connection with today's society. I wanted to know, how did you come up with these characters? Are they portrayals of current people, or are they mere fictional figures trapped in the past?"

"That's an excellent question too. Thank you, Carol. So, in the last few years when I wasn't writing, I wandered around a lot of places. I was a bit lost, to be honest, but one good thing about that difficult phase was having the opportunity to talk to all kinds of different people. Poor and rich. Everyone had something to say about the world, as well as their own problems with it. All I can say is that I didn't draw inspiration from any real person to create the characters, but rather from the experiences I accumulated during the good conversations I had with various people of different races, ages, and genders. Despite this, it's easy to recall someone familiar who has a story similar to Milly, the protagonist of the first story in the book, for example. My characters are almost always ordinary people."

"Thank you for answering!"

“You're welcome. Next question.” You paused briefly to drink some water, then continued, choosing a young woman sitting at the far right end of the last row of chairs, where the light from the lamp didn’t reach as well.

“Hello! Good evening, everyone! My name is Sana, I’m a big fan of your art and I’m happy about your return,” she said, quite excited.

You were startled when she stood up and you could see her better. Your heart suddenly raced. It was a strange sight. The girl, Sana, was wearing a long white dress with some flower prints.

Your ex-wife had a very similar dress. Quite a coincidence. So, you hid your look of astonishment and said:

“Thank you, Sana. You can ask your question.”

“I would like to know if your return is definitive. Are there more drafts stored or ideas for future projects? I read on the internet about a leak that revealed you were writing a script for a mini-series on a streaming service. Does this mean you are now dedicated to writing without long breaks?”

“I can't comment on this supposed leak. And I can't guarantee that my return won’t have more long breaks, but I am making an effort to maintain a healthy pace for myself and that also allows me to produce good works without delays.”

“Your long pause was due to external problems like the divorce and your alcohol dependency. Now that you’re rehabilitated, what are the chances of you returning to your old publication window of every two years?”

“Excuse me!” Jessie intervened. “I’d like to remind everyone that this event is dedicated to the book, not the author’s personal life. So, let’s keep the questions focused on the fiction, please.”

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to be intrusive,” Sana explained, smiling. “I’m just another fan who is immensely happy about the return of the favorite author, and who hopes to continue reading many of his books.”

"It's okay. As I said before, I can't guarantee anything. I hate unfounded promises like anyone else. I appreciate your kindness, Sana. I will strive to continue publishing frequently."

She smiled at you, satisfied with your response.

For the next question, you chose a gray-haired woman who seemed quite intellectual.

"There are rumors that your first book will be adapted into a movie. Can you tell us a little about that? And regardless of whether it's true or not, how would you feel about seeing your work being transferred to another medium, like with a new vision and maybe without your creative control?"

"We are in negotiations at the moment. I can't say more than that. Well, I wouldn't mind seeing someone else putting their vision into my stories; it would be something different, you know? Another work, not necessarily mine. I find it interesting and I am always open to film adaptations."

You continued for about 30 minutes. This stuff was quite tiring and after a while, it seemed to lose its purpose, but you kept smiling until the end.

Now all that was left was to sign the books. Each reader got your autograph and a copy of your new book. Everyone praised you and practically 90% of the audience took a selfie with you.

There were only 5 people left to finish the autographs when it was that girl's turn.

"Hello!" she said, extending her hand to greet you. You shook her hand. It was small and soft, like a porcelain doll's hand.

"I was quite anxious for this."

"I hope I didn't make you wait too long. Lines can be quite unbearable."

"It's all right, I've learned to be patient.”

You noticed that she was staring at you. For a fan, she was not shy at all. She was beautiful too. Very beautiful. You would probably be falling in love with Sana if you were the same age as her and were the type of writer who gets dazzled by any special attention from a pretty girl.

“Sana, right? Well, I’ll sign your book now.”

You picked up a copy and signed it.

“‘To Sana, a special fan. May these pages entertain you and perhaps mean something to you in the end.’” You finished with your signature. “Here. Thank you for coming.”

“Oh my God! You don’t know how happy I am! Can I ask you to sign another book of yours? It's my favorite!”

She took the book out of her bag and handed it to you, then you signed it with quick precision.

“You’re so sweet! Oh, could you tell me how long you will be in the city? And sorry if I'm being too nosy..."

“I’m leaving tomorrow afternoon.”

“Oh, what a shame. You don’t know how special this evening has been for me.” Sana sighed. “I just wish I had more time to talk to you.”

“Hey, girl!” exclaimed the woman in line behind Sana. “You’ve been talking to him for about 5 minutes! There are more people wanting to get an autograph, you know?!”

Sana didn’t reply but shot a cold, empty look at the woman that made her nervous.

“It was really a dream to meet you in person.” She placed her hand on yours. Slowly, she said, “Maybe we’ll meet again sometime, won’t we?”

You gave a soft laugh and replied:

“Yeah, I’d love that.” You smiled formally at her. “Have a good night, Sana.”

“You too.” She said in a voice a little too sweet for your taste.

"The night was amazing!" said Jessie cheerfully. The two of you were eating at a diner after the book launch had ended. "You answered all the questions really well. Especially the ones from the journalists."

"Thank you. I did my best."

"When it becomes a bestseller, and it will, obviously, we'll organize a new book signing session, this time a lecture. Your arm will get tired from signing so many books!"

"I'm very grateful for all your help, Jessie."

"It's just my job. Besides, actually, I should be grateful to you for employing me. I had some bills to pay that were keeping me up at night."

"But it was my literary agent who hired you."

"Yes, he needed an assistant for one of his writers, and here I am. There were no openings available for me, and I was starting to worry if I would find a job or not. Then a miracle happened! Suddenly the preparations for your new book launch began, and 'boom!', Jessie is working again, baby!"

"In that case, I guess we helped each other."

"You bet!"

"It's good to be back. I had forgotten how much I loved writing."

"It's good to have you back! Now that all the launch chaos is over, what are you going to do?"

"Write."

"Already?"

"I'm just going to start drafting a novel I have in mind. I'm thinking of spending a few weeks in a secluded cabin I bought to write in peace without interruptions."

"That sounds great! It's a good way to relax, actually. But I personally wouldn't go where Amazon delivery doesn't reach; that's my limit of isolation. Another cup of coffee?”

"“No. I need to sleep.”

“You can order a decaf coffee.”

“Even so. I've already exceeded my daily caffeine limit.”

Jessie asked the waitress for another cup of coffee for herself.

“I'm sorry we're not celebrating in a bar as tradition dictates.”

“Don't say that! It's no problem. I appreciate your more reserved style of celebrating; the last writer I assisted liked to let loose with his pseudo-intellectual friends. I was completely uncomfortable at those parties, damn it.”

You two talked for another hour about various subjects, and then you realized that you would like to have her around always because working with Jessie sped things up and she was fun company too.

Around midnight, you both decided to call it a night and go back to the hotel. She went in first, and you decided to stay outside a bit longer to smoke a cigarette. You sat on the curb near the hotel façade and lit a cigarette. You weren't exactly a smoker. Only about five cigarettes a month, at most. The urge to smoke at that moment came naturally, healthily, just to end the night and have more time to reflect on the day before going to sleep. Things were finally falling into place, and you wanted to enjoy this feeling of peace a little longer. The street was very calm. The cold, damn, was intense. Although the rain had stopped, the wind remained relentless, and your blazer was your hero.”

"Can I join you?" asked a sweet voice.

You instinctively looked back.

"Sana?! Is that you?" you asked, quite startled.

"I'm glad you haven't forgotten my name."

She sat down beside you.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was heading back to the hotel."

"Oh, are you staying at this hotel too?"

She smiled at you.

"What a coincidence, right?"

"Yeah... It's quite chilly, isn't it?"

"True. Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, of course. Feel free to ask anything."

"Who is that girl who's always with you?"

"What?"

"The brunette girl who wears glasses. She was always around you at the bookstore."

"Oh, you mean Jessie? She's my assistant. She helped with organizing the event. Very smart girl."

Sana scoffed and laughed.

"Smart, huh? Okay... Do you like girls like that?"

"It's a good quality in anyone."

"Except when they're arrogant towards people," Sana remarked, a little bitterly.

"That's true. Luckily, Jessie isn't that kind of person."

"Oh, really?" Sana questioned. "But let's stop talking about her now."

"Did you stay here just for the book launch?"

"Of course. I traveled just to see you, silly." She placed her hand on your knee. "You looked so lonely sitting here."

"I was just about to go into the hotel."

"Can we go in together? What do you think?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. Don't pretend you don't."

Yeah, you could get an idea. Her tone of voice was unmistakable. Sana obviously wanted to go to bed with you, and since the bookstore, you felt something different coming from her. It was hard to explain exactly what it was... whether it was good or bad... You couldn't say.

"Please, Sana. I'm much older than you..."

"I'm not as young as I look. And I know you want this too."

Her hand slid up your thigh. Sana had a warm, comforting touch, and an intrusive thought made you imagine what it would be like for that hand to touch your cock.

"Look, I'm not that kind of guy," you stood up. "I don't take young girls infatuated with idols to bed. It's not right."

"There's nothing wrong with it!" she said, almost shouting.

"For me, it's wrong, Sana."

"Am I not attractive enough?"

The devil knew how attractive she was. That face, those eyes, that smile, the scent... It was all too familiar. And her slender body... It had been a while since you had sex. Since the divorce, you hadn't been with anyone else. There were attempts from some women, but you pushed them away due to the self-loathing you felt.

Were you still doing this? Had therapy failed?

No, this was a different situation.

"Sana, you're beautiful. You caught my eye the moment I saw you at the bookstore. Not just mine, I bet. You're a stunning woman, but this just... isn't right for me. I'm sorry, I need to go in now."

"Your attention is the only one I want. We can get to know each other better if that's the issue. I rea-"

You left her talking alone on the sidewalk and entered the hotel. You felt bad for doing that, but damn it, you knew she wouldn't give up if you kept stringing her along.

In the bedroom, finally, you were getting ready to go to sleep. You needed to get up early for a meeting with your literary agent via Zoom; in the afternoon, you would catch a flight back home and finally rest properly. You lay in bed, eyes closed, trying to sleep, trying to think of anything other than that woman. Girl. She was just a girl. After a while, it became difficult to hold onto any thoughts; you knew you would fall asleep soon…

Knock, knock!... Knock, knock!

You opened your eyes, somewhat groggy. Did someone knock on the door? You could have sworn you heard it. But sometimes you heard sounds from beyond, mere creations of your mind. Despite that, you got up and decided to investigate anyway. You looked but didn't see anyone through the peephole. You thought about going back to bed, but something stronger than you made you open the door and glance down the hallway.

She was leaning against the wall to the left of the door.

"Sorry to bother you again," Sana said timidly.

"What are you doing here? And how did you find my room?" you asked, not in an annoyed tone. You were still half-asleep to fully grasp the situation.

"That doesn't matter. I wanted to apologize to you for everything I said."

She seemed genuinely sad, remorseful maybe. And faced with her sadness, the first thing you thought about was how beautiful she looked in that silk pajama, casually sexy, with long sleeves and short shorts that revealed Sana's beautiful thighs. It was the pajama you most enjoyed seeing on women. Tremendous coincidence.

"It's okay. Look, I'm not angry with you. Let's forget all this, alright? Go back to your room and get some sleep."

"And you think I'll be able to sleep?" she asked, looking deep into your eyes. "If you were in my place, could you sleep knowing that the love of your life is in another bed on a floor above yours?"

You took a moment before answering.

"Probably not. But there's nothing I can do about it, Sana."

"I've dreamed of this moment for years. When you turned your back on me out there, I felt like dying. It hurt."

You took a deep breath. It was like being trapped in a submarine that kept sinking. You saw her eyes shimmering with tears that could spill at any moment.

In these dilemmas, everything seems to lose its purpose for a moment. And a moment is enough to derail everything else. You knew that, but even so:

"Come in," you said to her.

"Seriously?"

"Yes. It's cold out in the hallway. Let's talk a bit in here."

Sana entered; you asked her to sit on the edge of the bed with you.

"I'm not exactly sure what to say. But maybe you're fixated on a parasocial relationship doomed to fail."

"How can you say that without even trying first? I know you're hurt. Believe me, I understand that perfectly. But I want to prove to you that you can trust someone again. I want to repay what you've done for me."

"This is so damn strange, Sana. So strange that I can't even properly grasp what's happening."

She moved a bit closer to you.

"You've been my peace of mind since I read your first book. Your characters, your stories, your interviews, your lectures —everything was a refuge for me! I followed everything you did. I never missed an episode of that segment you and your friend hosted on the radio talking about movies. And the signal was awful in my town," she told you, ridiculously excited. You almost felt sorry for her in that moment.

"Sana, you don't understa-" You suddenly felt a chill run through your entire body. A tightening in your chest. The scent of Sana... It was familiar for a reason. She was wearing the same lilac perfume that your ex-wife used to wear. You thought you'd never smell that fragrance again.

"Is something wrong?" Sana asked, concerned.

"No, nothing," you replied.

Your voice wouldn't pass through your throat. A sudden urge to cry overwhelmed you.

"Are you sure?" She held your hand. "Your expression changed so suddenly."

"I'm just tired."

"I know you've been through a lot in recent years. So many problems... You've been terribly lonely." She touched your face. So soft... You just wanted her to continue. "You need a woman to take care of you. Someone who truly knows you and admires you, and who will never, ever leave you.”

“No. Look, Sana, you’re confusing things again. I didn’t call you here to-”

“Shh! You think too much! Just for tonight, set reason aside and feel the vibe a little.” Sana slowly slid her hand over your chest, stopping where your heart was. Then she whispered, “You realize? Your body wants it. And if I put my hand on your cock now, I’d be twice as sure of it.”

Sana sat on your lap. She kissed your cheek slowly and whispered in your ear: touch me. Please, touch me. The words seemed to float with some kind of magic, and before you could notice, you were enchanted by her. You held Sana’s waist and brought your face closer to her neck, breathing in that fragrance that was once so familiar to you. Kiss me, Sana said. Your lips touched her neck, kissing every inch of her delicate skin very slowly as your mind was transported to a place you missed. You heard her breathing grow heavier, then Sana started lightly kissing your earlobe while stroking your hair. The kisses turned to licks, then to nibbles, and finally, to sucking. You pressed her body against yours, overwhelmed with shivers. Sana moved her hips over your groin; you knew she was feeling the outline of your cock, enjoying driving you crazy, and, of course, adding more fuel to the fire spreading inside her.

“Lie down on the bed, baby,” she purred.

You didn’t have time to react as Sana pushed you down while staying on top of you. Viewed from above, Sana exuded a frightening confidence, and the way she guided you made it clear that this was obviously not new to her.

“I’m going to suck you now. Just lie back and relax. I’ll take care of the rest.”

You felt Sana's teasing touch as she pulled down your pants along with your underwear, her eyes shining with insatiable lust. Her warm lips enveloped your cock with hypnotizing skill, each movement of her tongue tracing paths of pure pleasure. "I’ve always wanted to taste you," she whispered, her voice laden with malice, before taking you deep into her mouth. The sensation was electrifying, and you felt every nerve in your body pulse with excitement; your extremely sensitive cock reacted intensely to each suck, lick, and kiss from Sana. You hadn't had sex in years, and even masturbation was no longer part of your life, so the intensity of the situation consumed you quickly to the point of making you explode like fireworks. "I’m gonna cum," you warned, but she just kept eye contact, Sana’s eyes challenging as she sucked harder. "Cum in my mouth, you pervert," she commanded, and you did, a hoarse moan escaping your lips. Sana swallowed all your cum, smiling mischievously as she slowly licked her lips. "Mmm, delicious," she murmured, then squeezed your cock to get every last drop left at the tip, capturing it with her tongue as it dripped, licking it like ice cream while you rolled your eyes in pleasure.

Sana didn’t give you time to catch your breath. Before reason could return to your mind, she was already sliding her lips over your body, planting wet and voracious kisses on your thighs. She asked you to take off your shirt, and so you did. Her lips reached your nipples, licking and sucking them with an almost painful intensity. "You’re going to get hard for me again, you naughty writer!" she murmured against your skin, her eyes shining with a wicked determination, her adorable face carrying a demonic facet at the same time. "I know you still have breath for me; I can see it in your eyes," she teased, her hand working skillfully on your erection, the firm and rhythmic movements quickly bringing your cock back to life. You felt the excitement growing again, unable to resist her skill.

Sana took off her shorts and turned around, getting on all fours in front of you, raising her ass invitingly, her hips swaying provocatively. "Come fuck me, I want to feel you filling me," she taunted, her voice both an invitation and a challenge. "Come on, don’t be shy now," she laughed, looking over her shoulder with a naughty smile. "You’re mine, only mine," she said, her voice laden with possession. You positioned yourself behind her, your hands firmly gripping her hips as you penetrated her forcefully. The sensation of being inside her, so warm and tight, was intoxicating. Sana moaned loudly, pushing back against you with every thrust. "Yes, harder," she begged, her voice filled with desire and need. "Fuck this tight pussy," she ordered, and you obeyed, each thrust making her moans echo through the room, the humid and hot atmosphere building to a crescendo.

Soon, you both got out of bed. Sana was being pressed against the wall by you, her hands held above her head by yours. "You're a fucking slut," you whispered in her ear, your voice a possessive growl as you penetrated her deeply and squeezed her small breasts. "And you love this, don't you?" she responded, her voice a mix of command and plea. "Come on, fuck me more," she teased, her eyes closed in pleasure. "I want you all to myself," she moaned. You lifted one of her legs, allowing an even deeper and more intense penetration. "Yeah! Like that, baby!" she moaned, the sound of skin against skin, her moans, and heavy breathing filled the room.

Finally, you returned to the bed, where Sana positioned herself on top of you. She began to sit on your cock with her back to you, her slow and sensual movements driving you crazy. "Your cock goes so deep in my pussy! Admit it, I fuck better than your ex-wife, don't I?" she teased, looking over her shoulder with a naughty smile. "You know I'm right, you're loving me so much!" You could only nod, pleasure dominating every fiber of your being. "You're mine, and only mine. You can do anything to me, I don't care," she murmured possessively. Then, she turned around and started riding you facing forward, her hands entwining with yours. "I'm going to make you cum again, you naughty boy," she promised, increasing the pace. Every movement she made was erotic, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. And she smiled at you between moans with passion and devotion, Sana was simply incredible. "Tell me I'm the best you've ever had, tell me I'm better than your ex-wife," she demanded, her eyes locked on yours. "Tell me you love me," she insisted, her voice loaded with an obsession that only made the sex more exciting.

The tension was growing, the arousal becoming unbearable, and you could feel the climax approaching rapidly. "I can't take it anymore," you panted, but Sana just smiled wickedly. "You can cum inside me if you want. I'm all yours!" she whispered, her eyes gleaming with desire. With a sudden realization, you stood up and pulled her, laying Sana on her back on the bed (the last thing you wanted right now was to get a fan pregnant). Your sweaty and trembling body positioned above her. "Come on, fuck me more! Don't stop now, love," she taunted, her eyes locked on yours, her voice laden with desire and possession. "You're making your woman so happy, did you know that?" she whispered, her voice trembling with pleasure.

You penetrated her again, the movements intense and fast. Your moans intensified, the bed creaking softly as you fucked Sana with renewed ferocity. The pleasure was palpable, an electric current between you. You felt every muscle in your body tense, the climax inevitable. "Come on, fill me with your cum," she moaned, her voice laden with lust and desperation.

"Cum for me, please!" she moaned, her eyes locked on yours with passionate intensity. With one final, powerful movement, you withdrew from her, feeling your body pulse with pleasure. You quickly started to masturbate, your fingers moving frantically along your cock as the pleasure built up. "Yes, cum on my belly, make a mess on it," she encouraged, her gaze fixed on yours with insatiable hunger. Finally, you exploded, spraying your hot cum on her belly, each spurt accompanied by a hoarse moan of relief and ecstasy. “Cum more, baby! Give me all that milk! Yes! Yes! Mmmm, so warm, baby.” The hot liquid covered Sana's sweaty skin, and you rubbed the head of your cock on her thigh... soft as hell.

Sana smiled, satisfied, her eyes shining with a sickly love that at that moment even seemed logical to you. She was irresistible; that was the problem. Before you could see it, you were on top of her, planting kisses on Sana's lips while her fingers traced circles on your chest, somehow still connected by the moment of pure lust. "You are mine, and I will make you feel that every time," she whispered, her eyes still shining with desire. "See? We were made for each other. This is love, dear," she murmured, making it clear that this wouldn't be the last time she claimed you so intensely. "I’m going to get you addicted to me, my little writer," she promised, making the moment even more erotic and suffocating.

Still gasping for breath, you gazed at each other, bodies pressed together, sweat mingling between you. Without a word, you leaned in and kissed Sana with overwhelming passion, your tongues meeting with deep desire. Sana responded with equal fervor, her hands tracing lines of fire across your body wherever they touched. "You taste so good," she murmured between kisses, her fingers gripping your muscles, pulling you closer still. "It's just like I dreamed it would be."

Your lips trailed down her neck, nibbling and sucking on delicate skin as she softly moaned in your ear. "I love you… Don't leave me, please," she pleaded, struggling to suppress a compulsive urge to cry in your arms. Your bodies moved in perfect sync. Your hands slid down her back, firmly holding her waist as she rubbed her body against yours, sparking renewed excitement.

You rolled on the bed, bodies intertwined, exploring every inch of each other's skin. "You're mine," she repeated, her voice laden with possessive desire, her hands roaming your chest, her lips never far from yours for long. Every kiss, every touch, carried an almost unbearable intensity, a need to reaffirm the delicate connection that had formed between you.

Finally, the two of you settled down, still kissing, the caresses becoming gentler but no less passionate. "I want you more than anything," she murmured against your lips, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on your chest. "You don't need to speak right now. I accept all this silence, for now. I know you're processing what just happened, but understand that I will make you want only me… You'll see," she asserted, her gaze meeting yours, making it clear that the promise of pleasure and possession wouldn't end there.

You woke up in a silence too good to be true. Terribly calm and comfortable. Of course, because you were not alone. That girl, Sana, sleeping peacefully like an angel on your chest. She had a serene and innocent expression, very different from the girl you saw last night. You got up slowly, being careful not to wake her.

What the fuck!!

You checked your phone and saw that it was already past noon. You had slept through the entire morning and missed breakfast with Jessie, where she was supposed to give you the details of your participation in a YouTube literature channel. Several missed calls from Jessie and your literary agent. Damn, you also missed the meeting with your literary agent.

Failing again. You were letting people down, and that's how everything started to go downhill in your life. ‘I’m a Best-Selling author, these things don’t affect me.’ Your arrogance was part of your downfall.

You looked at Sana, she was still sleeping.

And it's all her fault...

No, you were just blaming someone else again. You thought you had set the alarm on your phone but it was on silent mode. Weird as hell. You never leave your phone on silent.

Ah, screw it all! You went to take a shower; it would certainly help clear your mind. Then when you came out of the bathroom, Sana was sitting on the bed.

“Good morning, baby,” she said. “Come here!” Sana extended her arms, expecting you to go to her.

“You need to go now,” you said curtly.

It was time to end this once and for all.

“Sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Now! What we had was a mistake, Sana.” You took a deep breath. No point in getting stressed now. “I can call a car for you if you want.”

She looked at you, confused.

“What do you mean by ‘a mistake’? Wasn’t what we had special to you?”

“It meant nothing, Sana. I lost my mind at that moment.”

She got up from the bed, deeply irritated.

“I thought I knew everything about you, but I guess I was wrong! Yeah, even I can be wrong sometimes... Do you do this to all the girls who are your fans? Take them to bed and then discard them like trash?”

“I never slept with a fan! This was the first and last time.”

“Don’t do this to me!” she shouted, pointing her finger in your face. “You can’t use me like a toy, I’m warning you, this will have consequences!”

“It was you who came knocking on my door, Sana! Look… just forget it, okay? If I misled you, I apologize. I was a jerk. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“You don’t understand. Damn it, you don’t understand… You are the reason I live! I waited so long for this, waited so long to find you… I thought I did everything right… How can you do this to me?” Sana asked, her voice breaking.

“Don’t do this to yourself, Sana.” you tried to comfort her with a hand on her shoulder. “Take a shower, eat something. You’ll feel better. And go home, please.”

“You can’t do this to me,” tears were in her eyes. “I did everything for you, you know? Everything, you bastard!”

You were caught off guard by a slap. The sound echoed loudly in the room.

“What the hell is your problem?” you asked, more incredulous than angry.

She walked past you and went to the door.

“I swear to God, this isn’t the last time you’ll see me. You’re mine, understand? I’ll forgive you this time because I still feel that affection you showed me last night. I know it was real! I’ll try not to think about what happened now.”

“Hmm, okay.” you said, relieved. “That’s great.”

In a few hours, you’d be flying back to your city and, obviously, would never see her again.

“You don’t mess with a woman’s feelings like this, you know? You hurt me here, but I forgive you because I love you, okay?” she was silent for a few moments, perhaps waiting for you to return those words or apologize. But you stayed silent. “I love you more than my life, and I will fight for our love. And next time... you won’t be able to escape me.”

She closed the door.

“Fuck, finally!”

The words she said during sex… they weren’t just dirty talk to turn you on… she really meant them.

You went to the bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. To your dismay, Sana’s hand was marked on your face.

"Wow! You must have been incredibly tired!" Jessie said to you as you met at the airport.

"I'm really sorry for missing breakfast and lunch. I promise it won't happen again."

"It's all right. You were a hit yesterday; the boss and I will give you a pass. By the way, you talked to him, right?"

"Yes. Everything's sorted out."

"Great. So, I'll give you the details of the interview during the flight. Hmm, did you eat anything?"

"Burger and fries."

"You need to eat better. You can't just eat that kind of stuff. When your schedule gets really busy, you won't want to get sick." She warned, and you couldn't help but find it funny that a 20-year-old girl was acting like your nanny. "Lunch was great, sir. You really missed the best part of the day."

"You must have waited for me a long time, huh? I feel terrible about it."

"Oh, of course not. After you texted me saying you weren't coming to lunch, I went ahead and ate alone!"

"What?"

"Hmm?"

"The message. I didn't text you."

"You literally sent me a message saying you were exhausted and would keep sleeping. You must have been half-asleep when you typed it and forgot."

You took your phone out of your pocket, completely desperate. You opened the chat with Jessie and there it was: 'I'm more tired than I thought, not coming to lunch. Oh, and the meeting is postponed too. Sorry!!'

Fuck...

You felt a chill in your stomach. Sana had sent that damn message. How the hell did she know your phone's password? The most plausible answer was that she used your fingerprint to unlock the phone while you were sleeping. That girl was really sick.

"Are you okay?" Jessie asked.

"Yes, sure! It's nothing."

It wasn't worth mentioning to Jessie that Sana had sent the message; you would have to explain everything to her, and the whole story was embarrassing and weird. When it came to revealing that you slept with a young woman just because she wore the same perfume as your ex-wife (there were other things besides the perfume, but mentioning the rest would only worsen your image), you would have no credibility left and would certainly be considered a disturbed person by Jessie.

The best thing to do was to forget everything that happened yesterday, except for the book launch, and then move on with your life. You were going to 'take a vacation' soon, so this series of bizarre events would soon fade from your mind… Thank God!

Later on the plane, you were looking for some photos of the book launch to send to your sponsor, the guy who was helping you avoid alcohol relapses. He was a good man and would surely be happy to know that your return to literature had been successful. You were scrolling through the photos taken last night when one of them caught your attention. In fact, it scared the hell out of you. You kept scrolling through the gallery, and the photos seemed endless, many in a row that looked very similar to each other. You almost dropped your phone on the floor.

You quickly turned off your phone screen and looked at the seat next to you. Fortunately, Jessie was sound asleep.

You turned your phone screen back on and opened one of the photos, analyzing it for a few seconds. It seemed unreal. It was as if the surprises never ended. While you were sleeping, Sana had stealthily taken your phone to snap all this photos. It was conclusive proof that she had indeed violated your privacy, perhaps thinking the would be a special memento of that night.

But

In reality

It was a reminder of a terrible mistake you made.

To be continued...

[writerpetals]

when you're forced to marry an alien himbo | 🔞

; optional male lead smut |  ☁️

w; alien!au, nothing major in this part. idk if i want to write a part 2 like i have ideaaas. i really want to write where he finds her vibrator and asks her to show him how to use it and once you read this story you'll see why that's so juicy lmfao anywayy hope you like it, oh and this is a series of stories i want to do, the next one being "when you ressurrect your dead ex-boyfriend" followed by "when you summon a sex demon" and to top it off "when you piss off the witch that cursed you (very spicy wlw)" let me know if these stories or a part 2 interests anyone <3

“You might want to have a seat when I tell you this, bestie.” You hear the impending doom in the tone of her voice coming in clearly through the speaker of your phone. “You’re an alien bride.” 

As if things couldn’t get any shittier for you. 

You got fired from your job because you were running late due to your car breaking down. You couldn’t afford to fix the part on your car because your bank account was overdraft due to your A/C breaking the week before. But it’s not like you could have even paid for the A/C when your boyfriend (now ex) broke up with you, drained your account for all he could, and took off with your sister to Vegas. Now you’re an alien bride thanks to the leaders of earth making a deal with the alien’s that they would protect all humans from the other invasive species of the universe if they send mate’s for the aliens in return. 

“Or, is it an alien's bride? Are you an alien bride if you’re human and you’re marrying the alien? Or, like, are you the alien’s bride because you’re the alien’s? You belong to the alien. The alien’s woman? Either way… that’s you, girl.”

The sound of your best friend rambling because she’s scared shitless for you barely snaps you out of your daze. 

“Is he rich, at least?” You sigh into the speaker. What’s one more weird and oddly specific thing that could go wrong? Just add it to the list. Alien, or maybe alien’s, bride? Check! “Because that would solve half my problems, Sera, and honestly when you’re only adding one problem back in, it evens out. Girl math.”

“Listen, you didn’t hear it from me-” But, you did. Sera works for the earth-intergalactic species representatives resources department. This is the only reason you’re finding out about this now. Normally people are just snatched up from their homes to go off and breed ginormous alien babies. Or, at the very least, marry an alien. You aren’t too sure on the specifics of what happens after that, but you have always been a little curious… “Your alien is a total hottie.” 

“What are you insinuating?” You gasp, part offended and part imagining how hot your alien husband-to-be actually is. “I just go up there and let this alien have his way with me to completely destroy me? I heard they’re not gentle! They’re mean and rough and ugly. So, really, how hot could he be?”

“You’ve never even seen one of them before!” She begins to whisper, as if someone is coming closer that could hear and potentially get her fired, or worse. “Look, you’re one overdraft fee away from homelessness. Don’t look at this as a bad thing. You’ve got no choice.”

You know she’s right. What other choice do you have? 

You’re beamed up to the alien spaceship that hovers earth the following morning. Literally. Beamed up in a blink of an eye. One minute you’re on earth, the next you’re surrounded by cold, steel walls in a circular room with two bags of your things and your cat, Jellybean. Jellybean hisses at thin air as he looks around, clinging to your shirt like it's his lifeline. His orange fur begins to fly when you try to soothe him, all before a sliding door opening to the right, and in walks the dreamiest, most charming, hunkiest man that ever hunked. 

Was this your alien husband-to-be? God, you hoped so. You were going to end it all if you haven’t even left earth yet, knowing this divine specimen exists and you couldn’t have a chance with him.

He clears his voice, a nervous smile on his lips, before he tells you his name. “I’m your husband.” 

Relief floods you. She was right. He is hot. Beyond hot. Your knees quiver as he steps closer, heart racing. As he walks into the yellow cast of the light overhead, you notice his brown, military style uniform, matching cap on his head, and black boots. Of course, all the aliens are trained soldiers well respected across galaxies for their skills in combat. It’s why earth so happily accepted their protection. They needed to remain safe, and the aliens needed mates. 

Jellybean hisses again to pull you away from the thoughts roaming. He looks down at the cat, then back to you. You expect him to be rude, mean even, maybe make an insulting comment, but he only smiles. 

“Would you like to see our living quarters? Let your friend get something to eat and drink while we settle in?”

“S-Sure.” Okay, you weren’t expecting that. Aren’t these aliens supposed to be mean? Horrid? Rough? Terrible? Ugly?! So far he was none of these things. He doesn’t even have a problem with Jellybean. Your ex hated Jellybean, but to be fair Jellybean hated him, too. 

God, speaking of, has it really been that long since you’ve been laid that you’re getting all hot and bothered over this alien just for being nice and not minding your cat? He leads you down corridors of metal until you’re suddenly thrust into a bustling living area full of other aliens and humans, lounges, TVs, little food carts with any option of burger, chicken wing, or pizza you could imagine. You name it, it was offered in those delicious smelling stands, though you wonder what kind of meat they used. Alien technologies are clearly far more advanced. Even their fauna was beautiful and ethereal looking, sparkling off the synthetic sun overhead while the koi fish in the ponds around them swam gracefully.

Though food and decor didn’t keep your attention for long. A couple you walk past looks as lovey-dovey in love as one could be. He’s much larger than her as she snuggles into his side while the two read the intergalactic news articles in the morning paper. She leans up and gives him a kiss on his cheek. As if she just couldn’t help herself, and you really can’t blame her either when you notice all of the aliens are pretty hot.

Not as hot as your alien, of course. There’s no alien like your husband. 

“Um, husband?” You shuffle your feet quickly to reach his side, grabbing onto his arm with the hand that isn’t holding Jellybean. 

“Yes, wife?” A shiver races down your spine at him calling you wife. God, were you really about to fall head over heels for an alien? The odds seemed likely. At this point, what did you have to lose? You only had everything to gain. Like a super hot, super attention and sweet alien husband who was no doubt packing downstairs. 

“Where exactly are we staying aboard this massive ship?” The alien spaceship was big enough to serve as a warning to the other space travelers to stay away, but also big enough to host every trained soldier from their home planet. 

“Just down here,” he says, leading you out of the living area down a more lively looking hallway with plants and pictures of army captains. Then he stops down another hallway in front of a door seconds before it slides to the right. “Right in here.” He carries your two bags through the threshold into the most normal looking foyer you have ever seen. Ahead are even a set of stairs made from hardwood floor. To the right, a kitchen. To the left, a living room. A house that jumped straight out of a magazine. You expected the alien spaceship to look like something from Star Trek, and part of it does, but some parts…

“This looks so…”

“Human?”

“Yes!” He chuckles at that, setting your things down while you let Jellybean  out of your arms to go sniff everything. “Why?”

“To make our mates more comfortable. To feel more like home.”

You can’t help your frown. “What if we don’t want it to feel that way?” Your voice is a whisper as you take in the surroundings. You’ve never lived anywhere this nice. It’s way too suburban, picket fence, three kids and a dog for you. 

“If the living arrangement is not to your standards, we can make changes.” There’s a frown on his face now. He actually looks disappointed you don’t seem happy. You definitely hate that look.

“It’s great! No worries!” You offer him the biggest smile you can muster, watching his grin return. “So, shall we get started?” you ask, beginning to take off your coat considering shoes were already left at the entrance. The coat falls to the floor before you begin unbuttoning your jeans.

“Wh-what are you doing?” He blinks a few times before turning his head from you. “If you needed to get changed, I could have stepped away.” He won’t look at you, so you stop fidgeting with your jeans. 

“Changed? No, I meant sex and alien babies.” He snaps his head at your words. “Isn’t that what I’m here for?”

“You’re here to be my wife.”

“Yeah… which means sex and then having alien babies. Right?” 

He looks confused. Now you feel heat rushing to your cheeks. You quickly pick your coat from the floor, covering yourself to not feel as exposed from your embarrassment. Not like it would help. He’s already eyed you up and down and back again at the mere mention of sex. 

“I’m… not sure.” He looks down, rubbing the back of his neck. “We were told marrying a human would give us strength, power. That what we receive from our mate would make us nearly invincible.”

Your jaw hangs open. “Excuse me?” You blink, taking a step toward him. “What the fuck are you saying?”

He gulps, not bothering to meet your eyes due to him cowering like you’re a foot taller than him. To be fair, you do have an intimidating gaze when things start to get complicated.

“Being with a human means being powerful,” he repeats, though it doesn’t make an ounce more sense. “We were told our humans would teach us what we needed to know to be successful lovers.”

You choke on your own spit from the words, coughing. “So being a good lover makes you more powerful?” You shake your head. “Being with me… being a good lover… makes you more powerful?” You’re squinting at him, no longer frustrated, but curious if he’s saying what you think he’s saying. If so, you have one hot himbo virgin on your hands and he’s in dire need of a sex lesson from you. 

“Yes, that’s it.” He nods, finally looking you in the eyes. 

“Well, you know what? My life sucks so what the hell? Whatever it is, alien husband, I’m going to make you more powerful! And you know what else? My life could still suck but at least I don’t have to go to work anymore and have Creepy Andy stare at my tits all day.” 

He frowns, anger spreading in his features. The shift in his demeanor is so sudden, it catches you off guard. “Is this Creepy Andy a problem?”

Oh… you like that. This alien is awakening something in you that makes you… horny? Scared? Maybe both. He’s big, and dangerous, and from another planet and it kind of turns you on he is willing to do, well whatever he would do to Creepy Andy if you said yes. No human man has ever made you feel this way. This stirring of excitement and adrenaline mixed with fear of the unknown washing over you as he looks at you like he would eat you up and worship you. Of course, what’s his has been threatened. From his tone, his posture, his words, you realize he’s a territorial man. So your hot himbo virgin alien is the jealous, protective type. Somehow you find him even more attractive.

“Not anymore,” you tell him, sighing, pouting, earning a little more of his attention which you realize you actually adore in the moment. He steps closer, placing hands on your arms. “I mean, it got pretty bad there for a while. He was always trying to flirt, and make weird comments about me, and just be creepy, you know?”

Okay, you didn’t have to go into detail, but to watch your new alien husband get worked up over another man’s comments about your body does something to your confidence. This alien has claimed you for his keeping, and it’s clear no one else should dare to even look at you or this alien super soldier will not be so nice.

“Where can one find this Creepy Andy?”

His question has you bursting into giggles. “Don’t worry about it.” You reach to pat him on the chest, feeling the hard muscle underneath. “It’s not something I have to worry about anymore.” 

You pull away to go get Jellybean settled in while he takes your things upstairs. After a while of soothing Jellybean and coaxing him out of his hiding place under one of the lounges in the living room so he would eat something, your husband comes downstairs to offer you a cooked meal.

“You cook?”

“Sometimes.” His sheepish grin has butterflies swarming your stomach. How can he be so hot, and intimidating, yet cute? You follow him into the kitchen with the standard fridge and oven, with a sink and dishwasher close by. Looks just like something you would see on earth, if it weren’t for the unique gadgets and interesting trinkets here and there. You assume they are alien created, and you’re curious how they work.

You guess a lesson on alien tools will have to be another day as he gets to work creating you a meal that smells delicious. He tells you it’s some sort of delicacy where he’s from, but you don’t question it. You haven’t eaten all day, too nervous about meeting him. So you take a bite, and to your surprise, it’s not half bad. There’s a few flavors you recognize in the dish, what look to be like noodles, and some kind of meat. You don’t ask the questions you normally would. You don’t want to spoil it if this is what you have to live with. 

“Would you like to join me while I wash up?” he asks while taking the plates away to place them in the dishwasher. A man who cooks and cleans up? You’ve died and gone to heaven. 

“Wash up? As in… shower?”

“Shower, bathe, whatever you wish to do.”

It’s hard to turn him down when he’s being so generous. “S-Sure.” Though, you are a little nervous. It’s been so long since you’ve even seen anyone in their underwear. Better to go ahead and get the awkwardness out of the way. This is your husband, after all. 

“I would love a bath. My muscles feel so tense from being nervous and I think I sweated so much from the anticipation of meeting you I would really like to wash up.”

He’s smiling at your rambling. Okay, you’re a lot nervous. Not that you don’t have confidence around men. You do and you enjoy taking charge and demanding what you want, but this is no ordinary man. This man is gorgeous, understanding, sweet, and kind. From out of this world. This man could have been written by a woman, maybe mother nature herself, and that’s what is making you so nervous. Why does he seem so perfect? You were so convinced the aliens were mean, and rough, and ugly, but he’s shown you the opposite. 

“Come with me,” is all he says before you’re following him up the stairs, down the hall into a room that looks more alien than human. The door slides to the ride to reveal marble steps leading to a dais filled with water. The platform sits low as a soft hum emits from the inviting bathing pool, lights glowing all around in alien markings you can’t decipher. 

“This is simply gorgeous,” you sigh, taking in the purple and blue fauna all around the room. Steam rolls off the water, shimmering beneath the glowing markings. 

“I’m happy it pleases you, I spent a while setting it up for you,” your big alien husband says, his tone giving him away that he could be blushing. “This is where I can bathe you every night while worshipping your body in any way you see fit. It is one of the more intimate ways we can bond so you can share your gift with me, so I feared I might be rushing things, but I admit, I was excited to show you.” 

You’re nearly brought to tears from the way he speaks to you as well as this steamy, inviting bathing pool he’s brought you to. Earth men could never. 

“Thank you,” you whisper a second before jumping into him. Your arms wrap around his neck while his hands pull you in closer. “No one has ever been this nice to me or done something so sweet.” He took you away from at least half your problems, doesn’t mind your cat, gave you a cozy, comfortable house to live in, cooked for you, built your own personal, lavish bathing pool, and wants to give you orgasms every night. Could your life get any better? You might have just fallen in love. It’s not too soon if he’s an alien, right? 

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he says, pulling away. “I just wanted to show you tonight, and if all we do is admire one another in our flesh then that’s okay with me.”

Your heart swells. Could your husband get any sweeter? “No, believe me, I want to.” Suddenly, you’re not feeling so shy. The confidence has returned in full force as you take your coat off once again, allowing it to fall to the floor.

“Well,” he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding your eyes. “If you’re sure you’re comfortable…”

The mood shifts suddenly. You picked up on the tone of his voice, the uncertainty there. 

“Hey, are you alright?” You stop in the middle of unbuttoning your jeans once again, stepping to him to look into his eyes from below. 

“I just…” He lets out a breath and your heart sinks. 

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, either,” you remind him, reaching to give his hand a squeeze. “I’ll admit, this whole situation is bananas, and the fact that I have a husband who is an alien is wild to me, but we don’t have to rush anything just because that’s what we’re supposed to do.”

He looks into your eyes, the subtlest of wrinkles between his brows. “It’s just… my whole life I was trained to be a soldier. I’ve spent well over twenty of your earth years testing my combat skills, my war knowledge, my stamina and wit and endurance. It wasn’t until our last years in training did they talk about our need for a human mate from earth. I… I want to be a good mate to you, a good husband, because it’s important to both of our species survival, but I don’t know how.” 

Tears finally do begin to well behind your lids as he speaks. The familiar tightness tugs behind your eyes, heart breaking into pieces. You only thought about how the situation makes you feel, not how your new alien husband would feel. You feel a little sick at the thought of disregarding him just because he’s not human. Of course he has feelings and boundaries. 

“I’m sorry,” you exhale, shaking your head. His expression turns into confusion, brow wrinkling and lips parted. “I guess I’m just used to the men I’ve been with and their ability to only speak with their dicks. This is the most adult conversation I’ve ever had. I don’t know how many times I can say this, but earth men could never!” 

He chuckles as you speak, happy to see his smile return since he’s unbelievably beautiful when he does so. “I like the way you talk. It’s funny.”

“Funny?” You raise a brow, but you can’t stop yourself from grinning. 

“It makes me happy and I just want to keep smiling.”

Oh… he thinks you’re cute. Your stomach flip flops just the same as your heart. 

“Why don’t we start as slow as both of us need to.” You step away from him, gesturing toward the bathing pool. “Let’s just bathe tonight.” 

He agrees and you both begin to take your clothes off. There’s hesitation in every motion and he can’t stop stealing glances at you. Your jeans slide to the floor, his shirt follows. Piece by piece until you’re both naked before one another. His eyes travel down your body, taking in every enticing curve, every dip, every expanse of skin until he’s gulping. You take him in as well, the muscles twitching beneath your gaze, the smooth skin, the fact that his cock is half hard and growing as he looks at you. A big, thick, delicious looking cock that you aren’t sure how is going to fit inside of you, but God do you want to try. 

You don’t want to stare for too long because you don’t want to make him uncomfortable. If he was written by a woman, he was built by a God. It’s hard to pull your eyes away, but you finally manage to make your way to the edge of the steamy pool. The water is crystal clear, noticing glowing markings on the bottom and sides of the pool. The blue, shimmery light guides you to step down into the water, taking each step slow until you’re submerged up to your ribs. 

“How does it feel?” His voice behind you earns your attention. You turn to face him, watching as he follows your steps into the pool. The water comes to his waist as the two of you slowly dance around one another, gliding in the water as the heat relaxes your body. 

“Feels amazing. Like I’m being massaged all over. And what’s that smell?”

“Honey and rose. Comes from the water. The massage feeling is intentional due to the currents created from the vibrations in the walls.”

So that’s where the hum comes from. Interesting. “This is too cool, honestly.” You begin laughing, then he joins in. As if neither of you can believe the situation. All you can do is laugh. 

Until his smile fades and the mood shifts. “Can I see you?” he asks, and at first you’re confused, until his eyes sweep down your body. 

“Didn’t you see when we undressed?”

“I want to see all of it,” is all he says, eyes traveling down once again, and landing on the little V between your thighs. Your heart skips a beat. There’s no way you can tell him no. Not when he looks like he wants to eat you like his favorite dessert, he just may be a little confused about what toppings he wants. You’re willing to show him as you back up to the closest step to hoist yourself up onto the ledge of the bathing pool. His eyes are glued to you as you part your legs for him, giving him the perfect view of your pussy. 

He licks his lips, eyes darkening. The mood has shifted entirely. There’s a heaviness between the two of you now. One of longing and desire. He may not know all the intricacies of sex, but it’s clear he wants to. 

His exhale is heavy before he speaks. “Please, teach me.” He huffs again, like he’s struggling with holding himself together. “Teach me what I can do to make you feel good. 

You bite your lip for a second. “They didn’t prepare you for anything?”

“Not much. We got most of our knowledge from hearsay, though the basics were taught.” He takes another deep breath. “We expect our partners to teach us, that way their needs are met. It’s important to me for you to be pleasured properly. So, please, I’m not asking you to give me a lesson, I’m asking what makes you feel good…”

You inhale a sharp breath. The last thing you want to do is take things too far if he isn’t comfortable. Though, now you’re wondering if he just isn’t comfortable because he doesn’t want to let you down. That’s why it’s so important to him for you to show him.

So your hand falls between your thighs to begin stroking the soft skin of your pussy. Feather light strokes earn his attention quickly, watching so you only play for a few seconds. 

“If it makes you feel better,” you begin, middle finger finding your clit to begin teasing yourself there, “I’ve never done this with anyone before.” His eyes remain trained between your thighs, watching your finger softly circle your clit. 

“You’ve never touched yourself in front of someone?” he asks, and you bite your lip while shaking your head. A grin forms on his lips. “I’m your first?” 

You nod, then sigh when you dip your hand lower, finger easing inside of yourself to feel how wet you’ve become. Then you trace a line back to your clit, beginning to rub in slow circles once again. 

“I’m getting so wet already,” you whisper as he takes a step closer. “It must really turn me on when you watch me.” You don’t consider what you tell him dirty talk. It’s only the truth. You’ve never been watched like this. He takes another step toward you, and another, until he’s pressing his palms to the water’s edge near each of your thighs. 

“I hear it’s a good thing,” he says, looking between your pussy being pleasured and your head tossed back with lips parted. “If you get wet for me, it means you are enjoying yourself, yes?”

“God, yes…” Your fingers dip again, easing inside of you as your hips begin to roll against your hand. 

“Have you ever gotten this wet for anyone else?” he asks as his hand lazily falls onto your thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb. The added attention, even if so innocent and curious, adds to the pleasure, jolts of electricity surging from where he's touched you. 

“I don’t think so,” you tell him in a raspy breath, and once again, it’s the truth. He’s a jealous alien, so he needs reassurance. You feel yourself dripping onto the edge of the pool. No one’s ever made you this hot just by watching you. Normally you have to work hard to get yourself close, but you feel yourself on the edge of bliss within minutes. Slowing down, you bring yourself back in, wanting more than anything to make this moment last between the two of you. 

“Good,” he groans, and it nearly brings you right back to the precipice of your orgasm. “I want to be the only one that gets to see you like this. Touching yourself. Dripping wet for me.”

“Yes!” you cry out, falling back to lean on one hand as he grips your thighs, parting them wider for him to see. The other hand continues to work your clit in messy, quick circles. Your breaths deepen as soft moans escape your lips. You’re getting close to the edge again just from the way he watches you touch yourself. 

“The noises you make are making my cock ache, baby,” he nearly growls, suddenly full of sexual frustration, but he keeps it together. Warmth floods your body from the pet name. It’s never sounded so good coming from anyone else’s mouth. “Does it feel that good, or do you just enjoy me watching you touch yourself that much?”

“Both,” you whimper seconds before the pleasure is bursting from between your thighs. You couldn’t hold yourself off any longer, warmth surging through your body as the bliss takes hold. You cry out for him, reaching to wrap an arm around his neck and pull his body close as you ride out the pleasure. He takes hold of you, wrapping you up in his embrace until you’re coming down and catching your breath. 

Panting, shaking, he holds you against his naked body for what feels like an eternity. He strokes your hair and back, pressing his lips to the top of your head. 

When you pull away, you look him in the eyes, then your gaze falls to his mouth. “Will you kiss me?” you ask, and a darkness ignites in his eyes, the question fueling his evident desire for you. He leans in, pressing his lips to your own. Softly at first, just to feel each other’s skin, then he leans in further. He takes hold of you and the moment, slipping his tongue past your lips to play, to tease. You can’t help but moan against him, becoming lost in the very thing you swore was going to be terrible. 

He finally pulls away from you to begin tending to you as he would if he were really bathing you. He washes your body with the softest cloth and the same smelling gel from a little vial he had prepared. While he washes you, he explores your body, taking his time to go over every inch until you begin to feel worked up again.

When you’re both clean, he helps you out of the pool to dry you off. You giggle at the ticklish spots and he laughs at your giggling. He already has a cozy looking pajama set prepared on the bed which you will share with him when he takes you to the bedroom. 

When you’re dressed for bed, you snuggle between the sheets and he pulls you as close as he can to his body. 

“Good night, wife,” he whispers, placing a kiss against your temple.

“Good night, alien husband,” you reply, smiling to yourself since it seems, not half, but all of your problems have disappeared because of him. 

[based-bobcat]

Remember when Batman used to solve regular murders? Remember when Batman was fallible and could be beaten by a gunshot?

DC's writers don't.

I don't know if it's because writers only really write for trades more, but ever since new 52 every writer wants to be the O'Neil/Morrison and make it more epic than the last. I've lost count how many fucking times Gotham has been taken over and/or destroyed these last 5 years, but the fact that I lost count says something. There have been no civilian characters introduced since Tamaki's promising, but kind of mediocre, go at TEC.

They take his money away 'to go back to his roots' (laughable as Bruce has never been without his fortune), and sure you finally get him interacting with regular joes again, only for it not even mattering since he's gotten gear stashed everywhere anyway, not to mention that the next writer to throw it all into the garbage like a meal they don't like.

They reveal Batman's identity as if they're handing out pamphlets for a local political party; Including to Gordon, to Penguin, to Harvey Dent, to fucking Joker, but there is no consequence to that since Bruce's out-of-mask life isn't even a thing that exists anymore. When was the last time he interacted with someone who didn't end up clashing with/meeting with Batman? I sure as fuck can't remember it.

I had hope for Zdarsky's run, since his Daredevil run was a nice street-level romp. (At the beginning anyway, christ did he lose the plot in the end) but he writes stuff like;

That's just sad. Joker and Batman are not Gods or powerful beings like Clark or J'onn.

Th-they're just normal men.

And at the same time you have more and more influences that come from Wayne Family Adventures, which I like don't get me wrong, but these watered down fanficified versions of the Batfam is not what I want to read about when I open up a comic book. Just try reading Taylor's Nightwing without falling asleep and you'll get me.

I like these kinds of things as fan-art or fun covers, but not in my mainline comics.

The Batfamily used to be made up of people with the same goals, but with different approaches, ideals and moral boundaries. Which caused a lot of friction. (Barb and Bruce really, REALLY did not like each other during the early 2000s and that's putting it mildly. And they were co-parenting a suicidal gremlin at that time) They all respected each other, sure, but I can't see any of the family even slightly considering moving in with Bruce. Especially Dick, Barbara and Steph.

All this to say that I'm a boomer and miss the old days.

[wonder-mei]

His greatest achievement (Honkai:Star Rail’s Dr Veritas Ratio)

失眠者苍 on Weibo

Reminder : I do not write accurately to the lore of the world I am writing. I write whenever there’s an idea

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

“Hey, who gave you those roses?” her friend asked curiously as her eyes focuses on the bouquet of red roses wrapped beautifully with cream and dark brown, and tied in cream bow

“Oh, Veritas gave them to me. Beautiful aren't they?” she takes a sniff and shows the bouquet to her friends “They are fresh picked too” 

Her friends looked at each other with confused expressions. Doctor Veritas Ratio, one of the geniuses of all mankind. Knowledgeable in many academic fields, not only does he have the brain, he also has achieved a lot of achievements since he was young, surpassing every professor that is decades older. Despite his intellect, Ratio is well-known for being very egotistical and arrogant. Not one of his students ever disagrees with his lecturers or confronts the grades he gave. Because he knows he is RIGHT. Even other professors or staff do not want to mess with him. 

But her. She is one of the odds. Ratio never does all of those to her. He is calm and gentle whenever she is around. There were students making a study on this privately as to why she is an exception to his egotistical and arrogant. 

And the conclusion is; he is in love with her. 

But she is oblivious to this fact. 

“Why did Dr Ratio give you roses?” 

“Oh he said his roses are overgrown so he gave me them” 

“Only you?”

“Yeah, he said he does not have more to give to others” 

“Also wrapped perfectly” 

“He just wants to use this wrapper he bought. Don’t want to waste”

Each question regarding Ratio’s gifts she would answer them giving reasons as to why he does that but none of them because he loves her after countless of gifts he gave her. From carving a few sets of her favorite animals, buying her books and so more. 

“Don’t you think he has a reason for giving you gifts?”

“Not at all. We share an office so it’s normal for officemates to give each other gifts,right?”

Her friends didn’t answer. They just stare at her “Well I have to go. My worms need some feeding” 

How could a botanist be paired to share an office with the man of every knowledge in this world? It is fate. Ratio was irritated at first for having an officemate that involves themselves around plants and soil but something about her made him forget his emotions and expectations on her. It all started on that specific day…

“What are you doing?”

“Oh Ratio! You are early today” she greets him with a smile “These are my worms. I’m building a worm farm”

Ratio scowls watching the containers with dirt and few visible worms in the soil “Why are you even doing these dirty projects?”

“Everything! Worms can compose,fertilize and are eco-friendly. Can’t really depend on technology for the compose and chemical for the foods we eat,right? It is time for us to have this old tradition in our daily life” 

Ratio just stood there taking her every word into deep analysis. There are already machines for everything. And they make lives easier. Who wants to do the traditional way when it's easier for that. This intrigues him. She piqued his interest. Since then, Ratio would watch her doing her odds stuff. She used all natural color for paints, learned how to speak to birds and so many odd things he can even comprehend. But, he never intervenes or corrects her ways. Her ways are too unique to stop her from doing so. 

 “Have you seen Ratio?” she asked one of his students when she saw them walking in the same hallway

“Dr Ratio? Nope. He dismissed today class 20 minutes early” 

Strange. Ratio always uses the class time duration strictly. Starts when it starts and ends when it ends. He wasn't in their office,maybe he is in his art studio located not far from the university building. She heads to the art studio still holding the bouquet, catching everyone’s attention for how beautiful the roses are. 

“Veritas?” She calls his name as she enters the building. No answers. The room was cloaked in shadows, the faint glow of twilight seeping through the half-closed window curtain but the sun shunned a tall figure covered in cloth shielding it to cause curiosity to whoever sees this. She was so inquisitive about the mysterious figure behind it,she pulled down the cloth with a swift. 

As the cloth was pulled down, it revealed a beautifully carved sculpture. She stands near to it gazing at every carving trying to make out who is that. Every inch of the figure registered into her mind, every feature is hers. From the hair,eyes,nose,everything even the moles and scars. The person accurately carved her. In this piece, she is wearing a simple one piece dress and a veil. She is sitting on the ground with the texture of grass and soil. There are few birds she recognizes that she studied for communication studies. Next to the sculpture, there’s a note. It says;

She and i has no contrast,

She is the sun and moon,

Whilst i witness her beauty day and night,

From every beauty exist,

I willingly sit to see her only. 

Too mesmerized by the art. She was startled when someone called her name “Veritas…”. They were too close. Her back flushes on his chest heading tilting up staring into his eyes “What is this?”

Ratio stares into her eyes for a minute “The carving of my beloved” 

“What does that mean?”

The question that would frequently irritate Ratio but from her, nothing can make him get irritated by her “I have achieved and invented something that has given me praises and is well-known for it. But my greatest achievement is falling for you and only us know how my heart yearns for yours. I tried to imitate you in that sculpture but that beauty only you can have” 

There it is. No ridiculous reasons for giving her gifts. Ratio confessed his love that he has kept for awhile. He too made a deep depth as to why she can get away any irks he dislikes and why her presence makes his day brighter. It all because

“My love for you is never-ending like the universe” 

For now,she does not need to think of oblivious reasons as to why Ratio has gifted her gifts especially when it comes to the question of the sculpture of hers. Why? Because he loves her. 

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

kinda cringed a lil

[kiyans-corner]

"the lazarus pit caused his bullshit" "no he was just a completely unhinged psychopath" guys.

GUYS.

every single one of you is ignoring the part where he was kept in a literal cult for anywhere from what, one to three-ish years? do you know how cults work. do you know how they slowly, carefully change your thought patterns to suck you in, even when you know good and damned well it's a cult? do you know what kind of targets they select, the kind of people they prey on? (hint! isolated teens are pretty common prey! especially if they're injured, salty af at the world, and feel like they owe the cult member/s something. like their mind back after being cared for while in that condition, for example)

do you know how much they MINDFUCK YOU ON PURPOSE. hard enough to make dozens to hundreds of people commit mass suicide. hard enough to get VOLUNTARY sex slaves and trafficking victims. hard enough to completely normalize prepubescent kids being married to grown ass adults 30 and up. hard enough that intentionally recruited cult members will recruit people without even realizing that's what's happening. literally after a while all the leader/s have to do is ProfitTM

the league has normalized everything from carefully calculated murder to literal child assassins (to the degree of CASS ffs) to worldwide political meddling (mostly via murder!) to everyone just. being completely chill about this old-ass immortal fuck having/keeping a whole ass grandson for the SOLE PURPOSE of bodyjacking him and then having consistent beef with a literal teenager

do... do any of you know how cult deprogramming works. do you know how long it takes WITH extensive help and support, even with the least fucked up ones that just give you a new spin on a religion and lifestyle so the leader/s can jack your money.

are we really just going to keep ignoring all of this instead of utilizing the more reasonable reasoning (applies with or without long-term pit effects!) to it's full potential

I know they'll never touch it in canon bc DC is lame about actually addressing any sort of interesting new applications of anything for a lot of the more jacked up shit that would provide fun story lines and actual resolution in favor of just never mentioning it again upon pain of death, but not ever having seen this take even once in a discussion or fic makes me sad :(

[lordprettyflackotara]

WhoGoesThere? || eyeless jack

tw: jack and reader are depressed but thats about it ngl

Jack was tired of his life.

Truly, wondering hopelessly day after day was becoming tiring. Patching up the proxies, eating a few organs, rinse and repeat. He had no diversity, no variety to his life. The most exciting thing was when Jeff decided to bombarde him with his rant of the day. Jack despised those rants, but at least it was something different.

It was what led him to wonder aimlessly through the woods, his hands shoved in his pockets and his head held low. It had been many years since he had become this way, the demon everyone knew him to be. As time trudged on he wondered if him coming back to life was a mistake. The leafs crunched beneath his boot, his shoulders low as he stepped over a few random rocks.

In the night he heard an owl hooting, accompanied by the lone coyotes howl in the distance. Jack wouldn’t have normally thought anything of it, if it hadn’t been for the sudden race of a heartbeat. It was too loud to be a small creature, chipmunks and rabbits so easy to rile up. It sounded much larger. Much more human like. His ears twitched as he went in the direction of the sound, his curiosity distracting him from his depressive thoughts. The heartbeat only grew longer as he followed it, the owner seemingly unmoving.

It was then he heard a familiar growl of a coyote, the smell of fear flooding his nostrils. In a small clearing he spotted you, your small figure curled up in a ball against a tree as a coyote prepared itself to launch into an attack. Terror was reeking off of you, something in between your fingers and your eyes widened at the animal in front of you. Truthfully it was none of Jacks business, he never interfered with the circle of life. But your heartbeat sounded so foreign. Unlike anything he had ever heard before.

Involuntarily a low growl rumbled in the back of Jacks throat, his razor sharp teeth gritting together. The coyotes head snapped to him, the animals nocturnal vision providing him a clear picture of the demon. Jack knew he was at the top of the food chain. All the animals he had ever run into during his forest trips knew this as well. None of them dared to even be around Jack, the fear of what he may do driving them away. Once the coyote realized its prey had been stolen, it dashed off into the night without a second thought.

“Who goes there?”

Your question was bold, considering Jack knew his human like figure was concealed in the shadows. You had only heard a growl, yet you spoke to Jack like you knew what he was. “Friend or foe?” You asked. Jack furrowed his eyebrows. He was in the twenty first century, right? "Friend," He replied plainly. His deep voice caught you off guard, causing you to jump to your feet. "Show yourself," You instructed. For such a short thing you sure did have a lot of nerve ordering anyone around, nevertheless Jack. He hadn't interacted with regular humans in a long time. He was curious how this would go.

Against his better judgment, he walked into the clearing. The only source of light was the dim moonlight, which only truly revealed his human like stature and eerie mask. Jack walked in front of you, towering over you as he looked down at you. Soft skin, doe eyes, soft lips.... You looked like a fragile little thing. What were you doing out here? "How did you do it?" You asked, clearly puzzled. Jack stood motionless, afraid you'd see his ash gray hands and run. "Do what?" Jack questioned. You stared up at him curiously, your mind trying to make sense of the black tar dripping down his eye sockets on his mask. It was so lifelike. How was that possible?

"That growl... You sounded like an animal," You said slowly. Jack looked human enough to you. You supposed. Chestnut hair sat on his head, peaking out through the hood that concealed him. He was freakishly tall, unlike anyone you had ever seen before. "Odd talent I have," Jack lied, shrugging his shoulders. You were clearly puzzled, but you couldn't make sense of the situation to begin with. "Why are you out here? You could have seriously gotten hurt," Jack scolded. You rolled your eyes, holding up a joint. Jack only recognized what it was because of Ben's bad habits.

"My college isn't too much of a fan of this. They'd rather me drink myself to death," You answered. Jack tilted his head to the side curiously. He had never bothered inspecting the plant this close up before. "Do you want to smoke it with me? I kind of owe you for saving my life," You offered. If you were being honest with yourself you were lonely, that being the motivation for why you hauled yourself into the forest late at night. "I have never partaken in this before," Jack told you. You gave him a small smile. This guy couldn't be too bad right? He did just save your life. "Everyone starts somewhere. Why don't you join me?" You proposed. You sat down in your original spot, leaning your back against the oak tree.

Hesitantly Jack joined you, sitting cross legged beside you. "Sure," Jack mumbled. He watched you dig in your backpack, searching for a lighter. He noticed the Harvard symbol stitched into the back pocket. "You go to Harvard?" He asked, the question leaving his lips before he meant it to. You seemed unfazed as you continued to rummage through your mess of a backpack. "Yeah. Why?" You asked. Jack sat there dumbfounded, flashes of his previous human life flashing through his memory. He couldn't remember too much of his mortal life, but he remembered going to Harvard University. "I just used to go there, that's all," He said. You unhappily grabbed your backpack by the bottom, dumping its contents onto the ground.

"Pretty shit isn't it? It's not worth what everyone hypes it up to be," You spat harshly. Jack could sense your bitterness, but then he felt his heart throb as he yearned to be in your position. "What are you majoring in?" Jack asked, changing the subject. You grabbed the lighter, quickly igniting the joint in your hand. "Medical field. I want to be a doctor," You answered. Jack froze, his breath came to a screeching halt. He watched as you inhaled the joint, the small orange flame illuminating your features. "What did you major in?" You asked. You held out the joint to him, Jack temporarily unmoving.

He didn't think about you seeing his skin. Maybe you wouldn't notice if he acted normal. "Uh medical field, I wanted to be a surgeon," Jack told you. He reached out slowly, his hands much larger than yours. He took the joint between his fingers, bringing it up to his mask. Unsurely he lifted up the bottom half, placing the joint in between his lips. "Wanted to be? What happened? If its seeing guts don't worry, lots of kids dropped out once we had to study a surgery live," You say, your eyes flickering to his hands. You noted his odd skin color, the pigment unfazing you. "Life, I guess," He mumbled. He inhaled sharply, coughing as the smoke rounded his lungs. The smoke dispersed into the night air, his hand flying to his mask to cover himself.

"Hey don't do that, you won't be able to breathe as well," You intervened. You grabbed his large hand, your small fingers wrapping around his. Your skin was so warm to the touch, Jack could almost hear your pulse through your touch. "The color of my skin doesn't bother you?" Jack asked in between coughs. His chest began to hurt, his other hand crutching his hoodie. You patted his back, shaking your head. "Argyria, right? Nothing to be ashamed about. Doesn't matter to me," You answered. Jack managed to clear his throat, pulling hand away from yours. He handed the joint back to you, your fingertips brushing against his skin as you took it from him.

Of course you thought he had a skin condition. A logical person couldn't even begin to comprehend what Jack truly was. He noticed the way the weed had affected his senses, the demon leaning back against the tree beside you. "Nice to meet you by the way, i'm y/n," You said. Jack refrained from smiling, afraid you'd see his rows of razor sharp teeth. "I'm Jack, but usually everyone calls me EJ," He answered. He realized you may ask what EJ stood for, heat flushing his cheeks. Instead you handed the joint back to him. "I like the name Jack, suits you," You told him. Jack couldn't believe what he was hearing, your comment more flattering to him than you would ever know.

This time Jack was more confident, bringing the joint to his lips. He inhaled deeply. relaxing as the smoke circulated around his lungs. "There you go, you're getting the hang of it," You say proudly. Playfully you elbowed his arm, causing Jack to jump slightly from the unpredicted contact. Your eyes had fluttered closed, the weed extracting every ounce of tiredness you had. Jack allowed himself to smile. "Do you come here often?" Jack asked. You giggled, your smile as bright as a thousand suns. "Are you hitting on me?" You asked through your fit of giggles. Heat dashed across Jack's cheeks as he exhaled, your comment making him cough. "What? No! I was just starting conversation," Jack rambled. You could practically feel his embarrassment.

"Relax Jack i'm fucking with you," You chuckled. You took the joint from his fingers, placing it back in between your lips. Jack felt relief. He thought maybe he had been depraved of social interaction for too long to engage in a standard conversation. He knew what you both were doing now was considered small talk, but it meant the absolute world to him you were even chatting with him. "To answer your question I do. Mostly when my shitty roommate invites her clan of frat boys over," You say, a hint of annoyance lacing your tone. Jack raised his eyebrows, watching your cloud of smoke evaporate into the night. It was brushed away by a small breeze in an instant. "I assume they aren't your cup of tea?" Jack proposed. You nodded, your eyes still shut. You handed the joint back to Jack, the effects of the miracle plant putting him at ease.

He made a mental note to accept Ben's invitation to smoking more often.

"One of them hit on me my first year. He never got over the rejection I think. There's rumors still floating around two years later I had a threesome with him and another dipshit," You explained. Jack inhaled, his ears twitching at the sound of the paper crinkling from the flame. "To answer your question, no, I absolutely did not have a threesome. My predicament is actually far worse," You mumbled the last part. You had peaked Jack's curiosity, but he chose to keep his questions to himself. "What do they do while you're gone?" Jack asked, trying to keep the conversation going. He focused on the milky smoke, exhaling it through his nostrils. He allowed himself to grin, your eyes still closed.

"They probably gangbang her for all I know," You grumbled. Jack felt unusually heavy, like he could stay in that spot with you forever. Tucked away from the world and curled up under an oak tree. As he took another hit he felt something unusual. Something he couldn't recall he had felt before. Your head had fallen onto his shoulder, your body curled up into a ball as you tucked your knees into your chest. "Do you want the rest of this?" Jack asked, holding the joint out to you. He could hear your breathing becoming heavier, your consciousness drifting away. "Have it. Just let me stay like this for one more moment," You say, nuzzling your cheek against his shoulder.

Jack swallowed, his nerves getting the best of him. He could hear your chest rise and fall. Then your heartbeat slowed. You had fallen asleep. On his shoulder. Willingly. Shakily Jack returned the joint to his lips, realizing he was going to need all of the comfort he could get. How could he allow this? What if he woke up hungry? He looked over at you, tossing the ashes of the joint aside and readjusting his mask. On the other hand, you looked so peaceful. How could Jack disrupt that? The night wind blew past of the two of you, a few stray strands of your hair brushing against your face. He watched your nose crinkle as they tickled your skin.

Unsurely he brought his hand to your face, tucking the strands of your hair behind your ear. As your face fell into a perfect state of content, Jack came to the executive decision he would stay right here to protect you until morning came. It wasn't long before the weed evoked his own tiredness, slumber taking over him as it did you.

[onlycosmere]

Brandon Sanderson on the length of Wind and Truth

PumkinFunk:  I appreciate Brandon being self-aware about the fact that he will struggle immensely to keep the word counts down for this series.

KiwiKajitsu: If only he had a better editor

PumkinFunk:  I know this has become a common criticism since Rhythm of War after Moshe Feder retired, but I don't think it's true. One of his editors for his books is Devi Pillai, the head of Tor Publishing Group. The Secret Projects were edited in-house and generally were good. He has a lot of people giving him feedback, both in-house and outside.

jmcgit:  If Brandon wanted to work on revisions for an extra 6 months to refine and streamline the book, he could do it. This is a Brandon thing, not an editor thing. What was Brandon working on up until the last minute before he had to turn the book in? He was working on making the book bigger, squeezing in more content that he wanted to add. Brandon will tell anyone who asks that he likes to write, and dislikes revising.

When an author gets big enough, the publishers and editors lose their ability to rein in the author or make certain demands. Brandon will do what he wants, and if Tor doesn't like it, they can cancel his contract and Brandon can self-publish.

Brandon Sanderson: I realize it's difficult to see behind the veil of publishing, and much is opaque, but this isn't what I was doing during the last few months--I was cutting the book significantly. However, rough draft didn't include Interludes or Epigraphs, which is why it got longer after I cut it down. This draft lost over 60k words, but then I added in the interludes and epigraphs (along with a few key scenes I decided were needed.)

So, let's be clear about a few things. No editor has ever--in my life--cut my books down. It's not what they do. They largely haven't suggested it. Every editor, Moshe included, has always suggested things to change or add--they don't do much trimming. That's all my job, and always has been. Yes, there is a line edit, which does help trim--but I haven't stopped taking those suggestions, and usually go much, much further on a page-by-page case than they suggest.

I dislike revision, which is important for me to explain because I want people to understand that even for someone who loves their job, there are parts I don't like. But I DO it. I do A LOT of it. It's the part I have to force myself to do, but I am very good at it--and if you follow my stories about learning revision, you'll find that I very clearly explain that I didn't get published until I mastered the thing that was hardest for me. I consider my it, perhaps, my greatest strength as a writer--my ability to look at feed back and apply it to improve books.

If they get long, it's not because I've lost an editor. Moshe's strong suit was always diction, not trimming--and Gillian (who does that job now) is quite accomplished at both. She's Joe Abercrombie's editor.

I realize it's odd, because "to edit" means to trim, but an editor doesn't usually trim books--they offer suggestions for changes on the larger scope, and sometimes do a line edit pass to clarify.

Stormlight books are not big because I can't stop writing. You can pick any number of my shorter novels and see I'm quite capable of doing something at a normal book length. Stormlight books are big because that's the art I want to make--and they are not, and never have been, out of control. I am perfectly willing to accept that the story I want to tell has not appealed to some in the last installments! But don't blame my editors. This is an artistic choice of mine, and their job has never been to change the art. I get the same amount of editing now as I ever have--and I take largely the same amount of their feedback.

Note: don't take this as a direct condemnation of you or some of the things /u/KiwiKajitsu said above. It's more that I want to be very clear about my goals, and the process. My stance is one of explaining, not arguing against your opinions, as those are valid and perfectly reasonable ones to hold.

I realize that a long comment reply isn't the best way to prove I can be brief, but I sincerely think the trope of "He got big so he lost the ability to be edited" is not one that I fall into--I am, if anything, the most edited person at the industry, and see more criticism and feedback of my books prepublication than any other author. Editors and beta readers collectively wrote some 800k words of feedback for me over the last two years, which I incorporate. Not just the, "Add this" but also the "this sequence feels slow or unengaging." I am extremely passionate about listening to, and incorporating, editorial feedback.

It's fine to not like what I do. But don't blindly make the argument that I write it, kick it out the door, and don't pay attention to the revision process while ignoring editors.

jmcgit: Hey Brandon, I appreciate the insight! I regret that my post may have come off as if you carelessly "write and kick it out the door", as I know how hard you and your team have been working on the book over the past months and years, and how passionate you are about getting it right.

Brandon Sanderson: No problem and no offense taken! I just see a lot of confusion about these things.

I am edited far, far more now than when I was when I started and nobody cared. Though, admittedly, I think the most editorial scrutiny I ever got was on A Memory of Light a decade ago. I probably get less now, but I also have way more extensive beta reads.

It's just a complex process. And, you also ARE right in your initial post that I could go over it again and again, and some authors do. I'm middle of the road on the number of revisions I do, by my experience. Not as many as someone like Pat R. does. More than a lot of authors. I do not subscribe to the Heinline philosophy of only editing when required by contract that is very popular these days. (This philosophy believes that your initial artistic instinct will be right, and you shouldn't undermine it later on. I am not a fan, even if some people I respect follow this philosophy.)

Anyway, your initial post wasn't far off; I just wanted to offer some more context for this thread.

[chris-slut]

hii love i have a request! chris knows you love to read romance but he never knew that u liked reading smut. when he finds out, he gets a little turned on..

𓈒𓏸 𖦹 lost in the fire ⸝⸝ 💌 .ᐟ ׄ ׅ ྀ

pairing; dom!chris x bookslut!reader

summary; you tell your boyfriend, chris, your going to hop in the shower. while in there, he notices your bookshelf in front of him. chris has always thought you read normal romance book’s— so he of course picks one up and slowly skims the pages. his eyes widen as he notices what you’ve been hiding from him.

! chris p.o.v x 3rd person p.o.v !

!warnings!; SMUTTY SMUT, oral (fem!receiving), p in v, protected sex, blindfold, handcuffs, pet names, (baby, slut, whore, ma.), overstimulation.

authors note; i’m sorry if this isn’t as smutty or too smutty— but it just seemed right for the idea you know 🤷🏼‍♀️! also i absolutely HATE this.

imani = pink

chris = blue

book characters = purple

“CHRIS, BABY,” imani calls out to chris, his head turning around to face her. “yeah?” he questions her. “i’m gonna go shower— just stay there okay?” imani mumbles to chris and he nods at the girl. she gets up and grabs her towel, swinging it over her shoulder. imani walks into the bathroom and lock’s the door, chris turning his phone on right after.

after 15 minutes, chris gets bored and turns his phone off. he walks to the closest thing next to him— her bookshelf. his long fingers run across every cover of the book, looking for one that he hasn’t seen before. he picks up a book called “shred of decency” and skips to the page she left off on.

“i want this morgan” , “what do you want?” say me. remind me we’re meant for each other and that we can forget our lousy morning and the rest of our troubles. “to suck you.”

chris’s eyes widen as his cheeks flush a deep red color. has my girlfriend been reading smut this whole time? just right next to me in bed every night? chris’s eyes scan at the tabbed pages, flipping through them.

he sees pages with sentences like “idea for chris,” or “want to do.” why hasn’t she ever asked me about doing any of this? was she to nervous to ask?

* CHRIS’S P.O.V *

‘WHAT THE hell. no way my girlfriend has been reading this shit our whole relationship and said nothing. i mean— do i not give her enough?’ i look to the side and open her drawer, a pink puffy set of handcuffs and a silk black blindfold appearing in-front of my eyes. we’ve had things like this around just incase something came up and we were in the mood. but, obviously if she thinks i’m not giving her enough— tonight will definitely show her i am able to.

the bathroom door unlocks as i quickly shove both of the items into my back pockets, turning around to see her in just a towel. my cheeks go back to the red color they were before as my cock aches for attention in my pants. god she looks so fuckable. “chris, baby, your staring—“ she says as my hands land right to her waist, my nails practically digging into her sides.

“those books, the page— your a slut imani,” i mumble to her, placing a wet kiss on her neck and biting down gently. her breathe hitches when i do so, letting a whimper slide past her lips. my fingers slide down from her waist to the center of her core, her juices immediately coating my fingers. “so fucking wet and i haven’t even done a thing— such a good girl for me,” i mumble against her once more, leaving a bite mark against the soft skin along her collar bone. “and these, these are finally getting used tonight,” i say to her once more, taking the pink fluffy handcuffs and white silk blindfold out my pocket. i quickly put them back in to slide my hands up and down her thighs.

imani sucks her breathe in as her cheeks turn red. “chris.. we’ve never done anything like this before— are you sure about it?” she asks me in a concerned tone. “after those smutty books i saw baby, i’ve never been more sure,” i say to her, grabbing her wrists and pinning them up against her head, trailing the sloppiest kisses down to the spot just below her belly button.

* 3RD PERSON P.O.V ! *

“tell me what you want baby, use your words,” chris mutters against imani’s stomach. a whimper falls from her mouth as she looks at the boy through her eyelashes. “please.. please just make me feel good chris,” she begs as a smirk plasters on the boys. chris grabs her by her waist and places her down on the bed, angling her where her hands are above her head and against the headboard.

chris grabs the pink fluffy handcuffs from his pocket as he puts her wrist together, locking it onto the headboard. he quickly grabs the blindfold from his pocket after and ties it across imani’s eyes, blocking out her vision. a whimper escapes her lips as chris goes down slowly, inching closer and closer to her soaked core.

“fuck chris- don’t be a tease please..” imani tells him but he smacks her thigh. “don’t tell me what to do you whore,” he spits out at the girl as he places a bite against the inside of her thigh. he licks the spot and goes to the other one, repeating the same thing.

imani bucks her hips up. chris quickly holds down her waist as his nails dig into her hips. “don’t fucking move, you got me?” chris demands, imani nods her head and lets chris continue.

he moves his face right above her soaked core, his hot breath beating onto it. chris slowly licks upwards as whimpers begin falling from imani’s mouth.

“f-fuck..” she says as chris dives in, nose rubbing against her as he sucks on her clit. “taste so fuckin’ good ma,” chris tells her as he groans.

he continues sucking on her until he starts feeling imani’s legs shake. “oh shit- gonna cum chris!” she moans out.

before anything could come out, chris pulls away and begins taking his sweatpants and underwear off. he grabs the condom that’s next to him and rips it open with his teeth, sliding it over his length. “chris- what the-“ before imani could complain any longer chris plunged into her.

a loud pornographic moan escapes imani’s mouth as she tries to get out of the handcuffs. “fuck chris— please! to much!” imani cries out as chris goes thrusts in and out of her harshly.

“cmon baby, the tabs you have on those books? the sentences you have written down? you were begging for this. are you really gonna beg to stop?” chris tells her as he slowly pulls out, just incase she was sure.

“no chris.. fuck— don’t stop,” imani accepts her defeat. hearing this scentence, chris wastes no time plunging back into her.

the room is filled with slapping noises and whimpers from the pair.

“chris.. i’m cumming!” imani screams out as chris’s thrusts go faster. “fuck, so am i baby! cum with me alright?” chris says.

imani scream-moans outloud as she feels herself release onto him, chris realessing into the condom not the long after her.

he takes the condom off and ties it, walking to the bathroom and throwing it in the trashcan.

“here you go baby,” chris whispers as he takes both the blindfold and the handcuffs off. “was it to much?” he asks while putting the items away.

“it’s never to much with you, trust me.”