#look i found my one thing and havent stopped writing about it since

[junovrsmp4]

one of the girls

part 1. the arrangement

Chris Sturniolo was bad news. You knew it, every girl within a 100 mile radius knew it. Your own brother had warned you to stay away from him, despite being his best friend. That didn’t stop you from wanting him though.

pairing: chris x reader

pt.1 summary: despite all the warnings, and his reputation, you're intrigued by chris. on your 18th birthday, u find out exactly why he's bad news. and like a drug, u get addicted to him. cue, the arrangement

warnings: ABSOLUTE FILTH, very very plot heavy, rough sex, oral, choking, slapping, over-stimulation, mild bdsm, p in v, degradation, slight age gap (reader is 16 and chris is 18 when they first start fooling around, reader is 18 and chris is 20 when they first have penetrative sex)

word count: 6.9K (lmao i think this is going to be a thing)

author's note: so, i found out as i was writing this that @worldlxvlys has a fic with a very similar premise because its inspired by the same song, check it out if u havent already, its so fucking good

It had started out innocently enough.

Chris was your older brother’s best friend, so naturally he was always over at your house or your brother over at his. You remember the first time you’d seen him, sitting on your living room couch, dressed in a black t-shirt and denim shorts, sporting a silver chain. You’d just run down the stairs, yelling for your brother to order you some food when you spotted him. The shock of seeing a complete stranger- a hot one, at that- had you stopping dead in your tracks. You remember how you’d just stared at him like an idiot, before turning around and sprinting back up to your room. You cringe a little, every time you think back to that moment, how you’d been dressed that night, in one of your old sports bras and baggy shorts, your hair an absolute mess.

Awkward first meeting aside, you got to know him, little by little. Sometimes, through little anecdotes reluctantly shared by your brother at your behest, and sometimes, from the man himself. Every time he came over, you’d make excuses to be around him and your brother, and you remember how he’d always smile at you, include you in conversations even when your brother would groan on about how annoying you were being and try to push you back to your room.

So of course, you developed a crush on him.

As a thirteen year old, you would make up cute little scenarios in your head of how you might confess your crush to Chris, and maybe he’d tell you he always liked you too, or maybe, maybe he’d be the one to confess first, with a bashful, awkward smile, and you’d become boyfriend and girlfriend and live happily ever after.

It didn’t take long for you to get over your little fantasies though.

While it hadn’t been obvious to you at thirteen, as you grew older, you witnessed the whirlwind that was Chris Sturniolo, the guy who got every girl’s attention, showed them a good time, and then left them in the dust when he got bored, before moving onto the next.

Your brother, bless his soul, did warn you to stay away from Chris. Had tried multiple times, to tell you how much of a player he was, how he just had a rotation of girls ready to go, and was always looking for someone new to ruin.

“He’s no good,” he’d said. “He’s my best friend, and he’s like a brother to me, but I wouldn’t trust him around you, alone.”

“Why are you friends with someone like that then?” you’d asked.

Your brother hadn’t been able to give you an answer then.

Knowing what you did about Chris didn’t get rid of your interest in him though. You’d long since let go of the silly fantasy of being his girlfriend. It had been a childhood delusion and nothing more, but you still found him…intriguing. The way he commanded every room he walked in, the way every girl around him fell to their knees to be able to service him in some way, the way guys hung around him in hopes of having his appeal somehow rub off on them, it fascinated you.

Even more fascinating was how Chris seemed to be so obviously putting up some sort of front. There was an edge to the cool, suave persona he seemed to be parading in for everyone else.

For every person who told you to stay far, far away from Chris, all they did was stoke the little part of you that wanted to see just what he was really like.

Besides, we all know what they say about curious cats; curiosity may kill them, but satisfaction definitely brings them back.

-------------------------------------

The party was already in full swing by the time you’d made it through the front door. The entire house was lit with flashing lights, bright and blinding, the music so loud it seemed like it almost thrummed straight through the bodies that surrounded you, almost consuming you and swallowing you into the heart of the party.

A party to celebrate the end of an era, and you turning eighteen.

You hadn’t wanted anything crazy, but trust your friends to go behind your back to plan something big.

“It isn’t just your birthday, ya know?” they’d said. “We’re finally done with high school!”

It seemed like they’d invited everyone who was anyone in your town, because you don’t even recognize some of the people at the party. Friends of friends of friends, and so on, you guess. Some were your seniors in high school, who had graduated way before you and your friends. It helped that your birthday and graduation coincided with summer break, because it meant a lot of the older kids were back from college for the holidays, which guaranteed the presence of more…discreet party favors.

The air was thick with smoke, from weed, tobacco, and god knows what else, the humidity only amplifying the feeling of breathlessness you feel every time you’re in a big crowd. You spot your brother and his group of friends huddled together, taking up a section of one of the big couches, all of them nursing beer bottles. All except one.

Chris’ eyes are on you the minute you step through the crowd. Unlike all the other guys sitting beside him, he opted out of drinking, and was instead smoking a joint, plumes of smoke slightly obscuring his face. He looked relaxed, leaned back with one arm stretched over the top of the couch, legs spread out. His eyes scan you from head to toe, and you see the way he glides his tongue across his bottom lip before biting into it. Your breath catches in your throat when he slightly shifts his hips, his eyes flitting down and then back up at you, like he’s silently asking you to go sit on his lap. You almost go over to him, slightly swaying on your feet, before you remember where you are and who’s sitting right next to him. You stand there long enough to see some other girl swoop in and plant herself on his thigh, looping her arms around his neck and leaning close to whisper in his ear.

Your brother spots you just then, and you make a show of pointing a thumb at Chris and rolling your eyes, like you’re not desperately wishing it was you that was on Chris’ lap, before making your way to the make-shift drink station that had been set up on the dinner table, where you find Matt fixing drinks for his friends and himself.

“Hey kid,” he drawls out, bobbing his head to the music, and swaying slightly as he pours drinks for the people around him. “Happy birthday!”

His outburst has everyone nearby yelling out their own wishes, and you thank everyone, accepting side hugs and shoulder pats from a bunch of them. One of them even comments on your outfit, telling you that you looked sexy and asking if you wanted to ‘hang out’ with him for a bit, with a waggle of his eyebrows.

You look down at yourself, flattening your palms over the black mini skirt you were wearing, the length, obscenely short. You’d paired it with a black bralette, a cropped mesh top with a watercolor wine print and platform ankle boots. Your friends had helped you with your hair and makeup, and you knew you looked really fucking sexy, if you did say so yourself.

You yell out a quick thanks but decline the offer to hang out, before asking the Matt to pour you a drink. You can still feel Chris staring, but you don’t dare look back, because looking back would mean giving in to him. Not yet.

You had a game to play after all.

-------------------------------------

Funnily enough, the game between you and Chris had started with a literal game. Specifically, his last lacrosse game for Sommerville High.

You usually didn’t care to go to school events, especially to watch a bunch of people play a sport that you didn’t understand, but it was also your brother’s last game that he’d be playing for your high school, so you’d gone to show your support. Your parents had been there too, and they’d taken a seat next to Chris’ family.

“Oh, this is such a bittersweet moment, isn’t it?” you hear Mary Lou ask your mom, who nods solemnly. They strike up a conversation about their kids, how they grow up oh so fast. It’s funny watching them lean over to talk to each other while Nick sits between them, looking bored out of his mind.

He catches your eye and breaks out into a grin, before politely asking your mom if she’d like to switch seats with him, which she excitedly accepts.

“Never thought I’d see you at one of these,” Nick comments as he looks down at the field, eyes searching for his brothers, you assume. “Want some?”

He’s got a bag of popcorn that he tips your way, and you thank him before grabbing a handful. You make idle conversation for a while, mostly about how he, his brothers and your brother would be graduating soon, and about your classes. You avoid the topic of the triplets ever-growing YouTube channel; you don’t need Nick knowing you obsessively watch every video of theirs.

Nick was a welcome presence; where his brother Chris managed to put you on edge and make you feel hyperaware of his presence, Nick was comforting, grounding.

As disinterested as you are in sports, the energy of the field gets to you eventually, your eyes tracking the same three players, 3, 4, 15, Chris, Matt, your brother, over and over, while listening to Nick chime in occasionally about the score. You have enough awareness to pick up on the energy of the crowd, and it looked like the Sommerville players were doing really fucking well. You watch your brother and Matt make a couple of saves, and Chris going full offense by scoring a bunch of points for the team, all while clutching onto Nick as the two of you cheer each time.

It’s down to the last few minutes of the game, and you watch with bated breath as both teams turn the ball over to score a point or stop the other from scoring.

“Wait, what’s going on?” you ask Nick. With only two minutes left, you notice all the players running to the edge of the field and forming team huddles.

“Timeout,” Nick says before taking a sip of his drink. “Coaches probably want to discuss final strategies with the team, but it won’t make much of a difference at this point. We’re winning this thing!”

“Oh, I see…” you mutter, and your eyes gravitate towards player number 3. You can’t see much of Chris’s face from this distance, but you watch as he swings an arm over your brother’s shoulder. His head tips upward slightly, and for a second, you almost feel like he’s looking right up at you, but that would be crazy.

The game is back on, and you watch as your brother immediately springs into action, trying to get the ball that one of the players on the rival team had managed to grab. A shrill whistle blows, and Nick winces beside you.

“Shit- what’s wrong?”

“Your brother just got a foul, kid,” Nick says with a shake of his head. “He was playing really well though, damn.”

One last minute. You watch as the Sommerville team expertly passes the ball around, going back and forth between a bunch of the guys as the other team tries to bat it from them. You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath when you see Chris has the ball now, and with just a few seconds left on the clock, he makes the last score of the game, and the crowd goes fucking wild.

Everything else was a blur after. You remember being ushered onto the field by Nick, your parents joining you as the players all took pictures together, as a team, with their families. You remember seeing Chris’ eyes widen as he took in your presence, before quickly flashing you his signature smirk.

“Look who decided to finally show up for a school game!” he’d said, arms cross over his chest, and you’d remember feeling small under his gaze, holding onto to Nick’s arm to hold back from flinging yourself at him in front of all these people, in front of your family.

The next few minutes had been spent taking pictures, and there was a particular moment when both your mother and Mary Lou had asked for a big group photo, and that’s how you found yourself pressed up between Chris and your brother, who had his arm slung over your shoulder. You still remember the way Chris’ fingers brushed against yours, your breath catching in your throat when, in an extremely bold move, considering you were with your families, he’d linked his pinky with yours.

That’s how it had started. Looks exchanged across rooms, stolen touches hidden from everyone else’s eyes. A pull and push, a game of who’d break first. It was like something that emboldened Chris that day of the game, and he’d test the limits to what you’d allow him to do to you. The goal for him seemed to be to get you to let down the invisible guard you’d put up whenever he was around, to get you to admit something even you weren’t aware of. Your goal was to get your fill of Chris in hopes of satiating whatever curiosity and hunger you had for him before you had to watch him with some other girl as soon as he got bored with you.

There were nights after that game when he’d come over to your house to hang out with your brother when Chris would sneak into your room, under the pretense of going to the bathroom or to grab a snack.

It was during those nights that you’d exchange rushed, heated kisses, Chris grabbing onto your waist while you clutched at his shoulders, pulling him close before quickly pushing him away, breathless. He’d swipe his tongue across his bottom lip before sinking his teeth into it, fighting back the grin that threatened to take over his face.

“Go out with me,” Chris had asked one night, leaning against your dresser and fiddling with the rings you’d left there from earlier that day.

“No, Chris,” you had replied, already back to reading the book he’d pushed out of the way when he’d crawled over you to kiss you. You tried to ignore the way your lips feel swollen and bruised from where he’d bitten them.

“I don't know why you’re playing so hard to get,” he said with her arms crossed over this chest, his lips quirked up in his signature smirk. “You clearly want me- why not date me?”

You can't help but let out a chuckle at that.

“What?”

“Everyone and their mother knows you’re not the dating kind, Chris” you said, with a tight smile. “You’re going to bail the minute it gets too real, before going with one of the other girls in your roster.”

The silence that follows makes you look up from your book, and Chris is watching you with a look you can’t comprehend.

“Touché. So you’re good with being one of my girls then? I just don’t want you to come crying to me later saying you were hoping I’d be your boyfriend or some shit.”

You roll your eyes, hating the way his words made you feel. It was pathetic, chasing after crumbs, knowing you wouldn’t get anything more. You knew what you were getting into, and you weren’t expecting anything more. but it still made you feel like a fool.

“By the way,” Chris begins to speak, arms crossed tightly across his chest, his shoulders stiff. “The only reason I bail-” he says the word with a harsh tone you’d never heard from him before, “-is because all of you seem to have already set your minds on being with me for one thing, and one thing only. Not that I’m too mad about it.”

He’s scowling now, and you see the muscles in his jaw flex, like he’s gritting his teeth. He was definitely mad, about what exactly, you weren’t so sure.

“What do you mean?” you’d asked, but Chris was already walking out of your room.

You’d spent the rest of the night wondering what had gotten Chris angry. There was a part of you, the one that really, really enjoyed Chris’ attention, that was worried you’d pushed him away, but a bigger part of you wondered if this was for the best. You’d gotten more than you’d ever imagined from him, and it was probably best to leave it at this before you ended up getting swept up in…him.

It didn't matter in the end, because that same night, after making a show of leaving out the front door to go back home, he’d snuck back into your room through your window and spent an hour leaving harsh kisses and bites on your lips, your neck and your collarbones.

He was clearly taking out his frustration from earlier on you, his fingers gripping at your waist and thighs as he pressed your body down onto your bed with this own.

He took, and took. Took your breath away with his kisses, took your wrists in his hands, grip tight as he held them down on either side of your head, all while laying claim on you and your body. Just like you wanted him to.

Realizations were made that night, because as soon as Chris had gotten his fill and left, you’d made yourself cum, over and over, as you imagined him being rougher with you, laying his claim on you with harsher, more painful touches to your body.

-------------------------------------

Parties like these really weren’t your scene, but you did enjoy being a fly on the wall, observing all the people around. Drunk teens and young adults giving into more baser instincts, their judgement clouded by the various substances they’d consumed. Some were loud and brazen, engaging in risqué activities right where everyone could see them, some hidden in dark corners, making out with each other.

You’re still nursing your first drink, letting it pull you into a tipsy haze, and you vaguely register the guy standing beside you talking about something you had absolutely no interest in. He’s got one arm against the wall as he leans into your personal space, his lips close to your ear as he speaks, to make sure you can hear him over the loud music. You let out noncommittal hums and nod occasionally to seem like you’re listening, but your eyes are trained on Chris and the girl who’s currently sitting on his lap, a different girl from the one you saw when you first walked in, grinding down on him.

Just as Chris turns his head in your direction, you turn your head towards the guy next to you, bringing your free hand to his and pulling it to rest on your waist. You smile up at him and laugh at a joke he’d just made, something incredibly unfunny and slightly problematic even, before telling him you were going to go grab another drink.

You head into the kitchen, where you get pulled into a conversation with a couple of your former classmates. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Chris slip into the kitchen as well, before he squeezes past you. What no one sees is the way his hand lingers on your lower back as he moves past, dipping low to grab your ass, before quickly moving to the group of people that were also in the room, slinging his arms over the shoulders of two guys before delving into a loud discussion about this seasons lacrosse game.

Heat blooms across your face, and you bite your lower lip to keep from shouting across the kitchen at Chris to just fuck you already, because that wasn’t the plan. You had to have more control than that now, because this was the only time you’d have it tonight.

Your mind wanders back to the several texts you’d exchanged with Chris over the years, after you’d first started your…dalliance with him. They were sparse, you mostly kept your conversations minimal over text, but there had been one night last year, when you hadn’t been able to sleep and had found yourself sending the one text you thought you’d never send to Chris.

> i need something

You’d immediately regretted it. You thought you’d worded it in such a way that you could pass it off, pretend it didn’t happen, or that it was meant for someone else, but you knew Chris would be able to tell exactly what you meant. He would be able to figure out everything you’d thought of him since the past year, every dirty thought, every horny fantasy you’ve had since you first started letting him kiss and touch you, only ever with your clothes on, nothing that progressed past heavily making out and groping each other, leaving you panting and breathless, and him hard.

It was 2 a.m. on a Thursday night and your text could only mean one thing.

You’d put your phone down, trying to go to sleep, hoping that, come morning, if Chris did reply to you, you could pretend you had sent it by mistake, but the anxiousness you felt made you pick your phone back up, and you saw it, the three dots that meant Chris was typing a response.

> U need to go to sleep

That would have been the responsible thing to do. You imagined being bolder, but you were only sixteen, and you had no experience flirting with guys, especially with guys like Chris, so you’d sent off a quick text apologizing, and telling him it was meant for someone else.

> Is that true? Who was it meant for?

> goodnight chris

> Tell me who

> no

> Need is a strong word, almost sounded like u wanted some late night lovin’

You don’t think, you couldn’t think, not with the way your blood rushing in your ears makes you feel slightly faint, and before you know it, you reply with-

> well i feel strongly about it

> Strong feelings can be dangerous

> i want something dangerous

You were being honest. Chris was dangerous. This was dangerous.

> Want? Or need?

> need

There was a long pause, no ellipses indicating Chris was texting back, and for a moment, you think he’d abandoned you, that he was probably texting the many other, more experienced, girls he could be with.

> Dont fall asleep yet. I’ll be there in a bit.

> okay

> So the text WAS meant for me then

> shut up

> :P

The abrupt shift in tone of the conversation had made you giggle a bit, but you remember how you’d waited with bated breath for Chris to show up outside your window, before letting him into your room.

Chris had spent those early morning hours teasing you with his mouth and hands, whispering dirty little things into your ears, coaxing your needs out of you, demanding you tell him exactly what you meant with that text, with one hand wrapped around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you feel breathless but not take away your ability to breathe, because you told him you wanted it, while the other one dipped down into your underwear.

You’re so fucking responsive, even to the slightest touch, he’d said. Everyone thinks you’re such a good girl, but here you are, sneaking around with your brother’s best friend, what would everyone think?

You’d let your body melt under his touch, letting him envelope you with his touch, his words, his scent.

I think about how you’d look with my cock inside you. I think about tasting you. I think about holding you down and fucking you until you can’t hold back your sweet little moans. God, you’re so fucking desperate for my dick, aren’t you?

And you were, you really fucking were, because no matter how much you pretended to be unfazed by him and his touch, the truth of the matter was, every moment you spent with him was followed by you locked up in your room with your fingers desperately pumping in and out of you, imagining how he would fuck you if you actually let him, how he’d open you up and push his dick into you, how you’d be so full of him.

That was the first night he’d touched you, really touched you, the first night you’d cum from fingers that weren’t your own.

A loud laugh accompanied by a friendly slap on the shoulder pulls you out of your thoughts, and you let out a weak chuckle as your friends remark on how out of it you seem, even though you’ve only had one drink. You look up to see Chris looking back at you over his shoulder, and when you meet his eyes, he jerks his head up slightly, and you know exactly what he’s trying to indicate.

Come upstairs.

Your eyes widen and you shake your head as imperceptibly as you can, even though you’re going to do exactly what he wanted, and you see how it gets him excited, because Chris liked being teased, liked how you played so hard to get, and you loved playing it up, acting all coy and innocent when both of you knew otherwise.

You tell your friends you need some fresh air, but instead of making your way out to the backyard, you slowly make your way upstairs, pushing past people and hoping to all powers above that there was at least one room that wasn’t occupied.

You take your time checking every room on the floor, opening doors to people in various stages of undress, quickly yelling out apologies before moving to the next, until finally, you come to a door furthest from the stairs leading up to the floor. It was quieter here, the music from downstairs was almost muffled. You press an ear to the door, and when you don’t hear any noises from the other side, you excitedly turn the handle to open the door, but it doesn’t budge.

Locked. Fuck.

Just as you’re about to turn away, you feel a presence right behind you, the heat of a body. The strong scent of weed washes over you as hands come up to rest on your hips, before warm lips brush over the shell of your ear.

“Look what we have here,” Chris whispers in a teasing tone, sending a tingle up your spine, making your skin break out in goosebumps. You shiver slightly as his arms encircle you, before he rests his chin on your shoulder, looking down at the door knob.

“It’s locked,” you whisper back, your hands coming up to hold onto his forearms.

“I know,” he mumbles, before holding out one of his hands, and you see a set of keys.

“Go on,” Chris says, nuzzling into your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your burning hot skin. You quickly grab the keys and fumble with the lock as Chris’ hands wander down between your thighs, grabbing onto them as he presses into you from behind. You feel his length, not hard yet, but still hard to ignore, and the possibilities of how tonight is going to go has your head reeling.

You finally get the door open, and you stumble inside, Chris not far behind. You watch as he grabs the key out of the lock, before following you in and locking the door from inside this time.

You have half the mind to ask him how he got the keys to the door, how he thought of keeping it locked, but all that goes out of your head when he swivels you around and pushes you up against the wall, one hand cradling your head as his lips descend on yours. His fingers grip the hair at the base of your neck and pull, making your head tip back and you gasp as both pain and pleasure bloom and settle low in your stomach, your thighs clenching, and he takes that as invitation to lick his way into your mouth, his tongue fighting and very quickly winning for dominance. Your knees almost buckle from the intensity of it all, from just how turned on you are.

Here you were, with Chris Sturniolo, your brother’s best friend, pulling at your hair, grabbing you so hard you’re sure you’ll have bruises on your hips and thighs by morning. It was a heady feeling, being wanted, and being wanted by Chris was like experiencing the best high from the best drugs.

Chris lets go of your hair to grab onto your hips, pulling your waist away from the wall and grinding you against him, like you were just here to help him get off, and it still surprises you, how much it turns you on. The thought of being just a body to be used, a body that Chris owns and controls.

Your hands find purchase in his hair as you gasp under the assault of his mouth on yours, his teeth biting into your lower lip and pulling, before going back to twisting his tongue with yours. It’s a messy kiss, rough and just painful enough that it has you wet and dripping. You feel the way your underwear sticks to your folds, and the patheticness of your own arousal turns you on even more.

Chris’s hands snake up your stomach under your top, making it bunch up right below your neck. His gaze is heated as his eyes rove over your body, before he’s pulling your bralette down, and the fabric of it bunches up tight below your breasts, pushing them up further into Chris’ face. He takes no time before licking and sucking on your nipples, groaning as he grinds his growing erection against your thigh.

“Chris- please, please-” you whine, body writhing under his attention, hips bucking as you try and find some relief.

“Stay still,” Chris says, and it almost sounds like a growl, which has the opposite effect to what was intended. Your moans get louder and he bites your nipple, your chest arching off the wall.

Chris straightens up, one of his hands coming up to smack you on the cheek before grabbing you by the chin, forcing your head back against the wall.

“Stay. Still.”

The slap had been more shocking than painful, but it still turns you on, just how rough Chris is being with you right now, and you think about how much rougher you hope it gets.

Chris peers down at you, his grip on your chin relentless. “Will you stay still and quiet?”

You nod against his grip, teeth sinking into your lower lip to hold back a whine.

“Good girl,” he says, thumb stroking your lips before pushing into your mouth. You instantly wrap your lips around it, tongue laving at the tip of it before sucking it deeper into your mouth. You see Chris’ pupils dilate as he watches you, mouth falling open slightly as he heaves deep breaths in and out.

“Take off your panties,” he says as he pulls his thumb away, swiping it over your nipple. He chuckles as you jerk away from the cold, wet touch. His fingers flutter over your skin as you quickly shove your underwear down your legs, and you think about kicking them away, but Chris holds out his hand.

Oh.

You hand over your underwear, soaked from your arousal, to Chris, who pockets it with a smirk.

“Hm, good girl,” Chris mutters, before patting the side of your leg. “Spread your legs.”

You peer up at him through your eyelashes as you spread your legs apart and the cold air in the room hits your heated core, making you quiver.

Chris doesn’t take his time. His body presses up against you as he brings a hand up your skirt and to your core, two fingers sweeping through your folds to gather the wetness that was dripping out of you before pumping them in and out of you, each thrust of his fingers punching a gasp out of you.

The room fills with the wet, obscene sounds of Chris’ fingers squelching in and out of you, and he adds a third finger, twisting and spreading them inside you to stretch you out.

“Fuck, Chris, I need you-” you moan, your hips rolling and pushing down to meet Chris’ fingers. You bare your throat to him as he presses his nose to the spot under your ear, his teeth scraping down your throat. His fingers continue pumping into you, pressing repeatedly at the spongy bundle of nerves that had you clenching around them, and that’s how he gives you your first orgasm of the night.

“You’re such a slut for me, aren’t you?” Chris asks, nipping at your jaw. “Look at how fucking wet you are.”

He steps back and holds up his fingers, glistening from the wetness, and spreads them apart, and you see the strings of your fluids clinging between his fingers, some of it dripping down onto his palm. Your breath catches in your throat when Chris brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking on them and moaning at your taste. He’d done this before, when he’d fingered you, and it made you squirm each time, seeing this visual confirmation that he enjoyed your taste.

Your eyes flick down to Chris’ crotch, where you see the clear outline of his hard dick, and you realize that this is the first time you’re actually going to have a dick inside you. You remember the first time you’d seen it when you’d asked him if you could suck him off, and he’d had you kneel for him, before pulling it out of his sweatpants and feeding it into your mouth, guiding your head up and down his length, before he’d eventually just jerked off and cum all over your face.

You watch him as he pulls it out now, and you can’t explain how oddly attractive his penis is. You didn’t think you’d find a penis attractive, but Chris’ was. It was long and thick, but not too thick, and it curved slightly to the left. It was ruddy now, from all the blood that had rushed down to it and the head of his dick glistened from the precum that was beading and dripping out of his slit. Chris wraps his hand around it, stroking it slowly to gather his precum and slick it up.

You make a move to step towards him, thinking he’ll move things to the bed, but Chris grabs your hips and turns you to face the wall before lining his body against yours, pushing you into the wall, with your face turned sideways, your cheek pressed down against the cold surface. You hear the telltale sounds of a condom wrapper being torn open and rubber being stretched over skin.

You look back at Chris, eyebrows furrowing, as he hikes your skirt up your ass, lining his cock up against you and grinding it between your cheeks.

“You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?” Chris whispers in your ear, his hand coming up to circle your throat, pushing up to tip your head against his shoulder. You feel his other hand reach down between the two of you, before guiding his dick into you, and your eyes flutter close when the tip slides through your folds to push into you, stretching you. Chris keeps his grip on your throat tight, and braces his other arm against the wall right beside your head.

Your body opens up for him, accepting him into you, as Chris sets a brutal pace, his dick driving in and out of you, leaving you breathless.

“Chris- oh god, f-fuck, ngh-” you whimper, your hands scrambling to grab onto him, one hand clutching at his bicep, while the other comes up to grip the wrist of the hand that is squeezing your throat. “Harder, please- fuck, fuck, fuck- choke me harder-”

“Such a fucking slut, what would everyone think if they knew you were up here begging me to choke you, huh?” Chris rasps out against your temple. “What would your brother think?”

You clench around him, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he continues restricting your airflow, arousal and shame making your blood run hot in equal measure.

“You love being split open on my cock, don’t ya? Your pussy is fucking dripping around it,” he grunts, punctuating his words with harder thrusts into you, the head of his dick hitting the bundle of nerves that has you seeing stars.

“Yes, yes, yes-” you chant, legs quivering as you gush around Chris’ dick. “I’m gonna cum-”

“Yeah? Cum on my dick, c’mon,” Chris rasps, the hand that was braced against the wall moving to rub against your clit, making you buck up against him. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight still.”

His fingers rub furious circles over your clit, which has you clenching rhythmically around him, and it doesn’t take long before you cum around Chris’ cock, the force of your orgasm wracking through your body and making you quiver violently.

Chris keeps thrusting into you, chasing his own orgasm, and you’re hit with that thought again, of being owned and controlled by Chris, because it was the truth, wasn’t it? He hadn’t even bothered to get either of you fully undressed, hadn’t taken you to bed, because you were just a means to a satisfying end, a warm body that accepted his rough, painful, attention.

And you loved it.

All you hear are the sounds of skin slapping skin and Chris’ grunts and moans over your own punched out whimpers, and now Chris has both his hands on your hips, gripping them hard as he pulls you back onto his dick, his blunt nails digging into your skin and leaving a delicious burn. You don’t know how long it lasts, but eventually Chris comes with a muffled cry, biting into your clothed shoulder as he fills the condom.

“Fuck,” you breath out, slumping forward against the wall, wincing when Chris pulls out, before bringing two fingers up to glide through your folds, still wet, but now also puffy and raw from the constant rubbing.

Chris guides you towards the bed, and you hold onto him because your legs won’t stop shaking. He helps you fix your clothes, pulling your bralette and top back down your torso and smoothing your skirt down your thighs. He tucks his dick back into his pants before disappearing out of the room with the used, and now tied-up, condom in hand.

You sit on the edge of the bed, dazed and out of breath still, and Chris comes back a few seconds later with a wet towel which he gently swipes between your legs, while kneeling before you, letting out a chuckle and a sheepish ‘sorry’ when you wince and jerk away from the cold and rough towel.

Chris stands back up, and goes to say something when his phone buzzes. He looks down at it, letting out a low whistle at whatever message he’d just received.

“I’ve gotta go,” Chris says, his thumbs flying over his keyboard as he types out messages.

“One of your girls?”

“Huh? Yeah,” Chris says distractedly, before tucking his phone into his pocket. “You going to be okay?”

“Mhmm.”

“Alright, happy birthday again” Chris says, bending forward to place a quick kiss to your cheek before patting the top of your head and leaving.

You flopped back onto the bed, sighing as you push your hair out of your face, your legs rubbing together to try and warm yourself up in the now too-cold room. And it was only then that you realize that Chris had left with your underwear.

Fuck.

> you have my underwear asshole

His reply came much later that night, after you’d already gotten home, using a pair of cycling shorts you’d snagged from the closet in the room Chris had left you in and bunching them up under your skirt to make do as underwear for the rest of the night.

> Oops

author’s note: idek if i like this one y'all (: likes, comments and reblogs r much appreciated <3

taglist 🩵 (comment on my pinned post to be added or removed):

@luverboychris @bigbeefybitch @liz-stxrn @slut4chriss @slut4mattsturnio1o @sturniolosgirl @coochiedestroyer1 @cutiepiess4l @kvtie44 @vschrissturn @hercigaretteblush @fwskullz @m4rriii @anabanana28 @sturniolosange1 @webbersturn @odeezier @johnniesrealwife @freshsturns @marlenafortuna @carolineheartsmatthew @incndescentglow @starniolosposts @urfavgirllyyyyy @mattsturniolosworld @lilyloveschris @sturniozo @lookingformyromeo @heartss4matthewq @lanasturniolo @zina25sworld @ezziewinchester @s-s-842 @sturnlova @whyarefictionalmennotreal @55sturn @cheetahmadi @sturniolowhore @cupidsword @sturnsblog @lovehoneygirll @breeloveschris @littlemisswhore @worldlxvlys @sturniolo04 @sturnioloco @littlemisswhore @pandacake128 @chrizznmetswife

[cokou]

hello dear cokou! could you possible write a Law/strawhat!reader during their time at punk hazard. Law gravitates towards them since they aren’t as rowdy as the rest of the crew. i’m sorry if i didn’t articulate myself well, english isnt my first language.

Note ✉* ~ I LOVEE THIS REQUEST ANON, thank you so so much for requesting♥️ Also most of this contains some spoilers and non-spoils lelll! || Do not translate, transfer, or reform, this is my only account (exp. Ao3), will not be cross posted anywhere. || 𖤐٭┆Masterlist

Summary* ~ Law thinks you're less of a nuisance to be a Strawhat. Warnings* ~ SPOILERS FOR PUNK HAZARD! Shit writing || Genre* ~ SFW

ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵐᵘˢᶦᶜ, ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ?

It surely was one of the most unsurprising things your Captain's ever done. Without anyone's opinion at all, HE decided that Trafalgar, will set up an alliance with your crew. WITHOUT asking for negative reactions at all, of course it's a typical thing that usually happens all the time by the pirate crew.

Law implies that he would be helping around with the Straw Hats in order to complete his far goal. Not even an hour in with Luffy and the other Straw Hats, he already grew veins on his forehead that were about to pop from the annoyance he received from all of their bullshits.

Zoro and Sanji kept fighting, Nami was beating Luffy up, and Franky kept screaming 'super' while everyone was in the middle of a fight. Not even Robin could comprehend with whatever was happening, it was all so noisy for the love of God. The snow was was violently raining upon you guys and your coat was starting to not help at all. You distance yourself apart from everyone to get away from their abominations.

Law follows right behind you, slowly catching up with you.

"Are they always like this?" Law asks.

"They have always been, sorry about their stupid behaviours." You sigh whilst looking back to see how the fight was going, it was toning down, yet it was still loud.

"All i'm gonna ask is how you comprehend yourself with them all the time."

"I usually isolate myself from them when a fight breaks out, which is every single day. It's been a constant routine for me." You give him a laugh.

Law frowns at the thought of bearing with them every single day and shook his head in disapprovement. You two ended up eating the time avoiding the fight in utter silence, sometimes offering questions to each other to lessen the boredom and awkwardness of the time being.

The fight stops (suprisingly) after a huge snowball got flung onto them and crushing them like pancakes.

"Where did that snowball come from?!" You shrieked.

"Don't tell them it was me." Law smiles and you two laughed your asses about it.

Ever since then Law pretty much gravitates towards you whenever you all are about to go somewhere, it's not because he likes you (he does), it's simply because you're much more chiller and less loud than everyone from the crew. You had sticked with Law as he gives you the peace that you surely deserve.

Course— not everything simply comes to a happy ending, the Navy reaches Punk Hazard. Law was more than able to meet them as he exited Caesar's lab, he picked up a fight with Vice Admiral Smoker and managed to take his heart and exchange it with their captain, Tashigi. Afterwards, he left and met you, and the straw hats once again.

Law darts towards you, completely dodging Luffy's handshake, making Luffy feel dismay.

"I don't think attacking them was a good idea."

"Would you rather die than fight the navy?" Law skeptically asked.

"No way!" You chuckle.

Towards the whole day, you spent time looking at unfamiliar things that you havent seen before. You found an ice-like flower (no its not in one piece😢), and suprisingly found out that it was used to make a certain medicine, said Law. On the way to the mountains, Law and you, got into some 'little' chatters thinking that everyone was following.

"Where are they?!" You yelped.

"Maybe they got lost." Law sighs.

Correction, BOTH of you got lost. You two retraced your steps but was disappointed as the heavy snowfall refrained you two from going back to the same direction as the last time. You two were led into the big crater parting the burning lands and the ice lands.

"OOI! (Name)! Tra-guy!" Luffy waved at the opposite side of the crater.

"Luffy?? how did you guys get there?!" You screamed.

"We swam the crater!" Another correction, Zoro and Sanji swam them into the other side.

Law grabs your clothes and walked backwards to the direction you came from.

"I really don't wanna spend time with those idiots."

"You allied with us so you have to."

Law thinks so carefully that he thought an alliance with the straw hats would be a great idea, although it gave him lots of stress more, he'd be grateful someone with the same humor and interest with him was on the ship nonetheless. Because, he won't be able to take the stupid personalities of the men aboard of the straw hats. He's atleast happy that he gets to experience 99% of there stupidity with you. (You two aren't happy anymore)

Author's note ✉* ~ I really brainstormed on what to write here, I haven't reached rhis part of Punk Hazard yet😭😭 I can say this request was hard to make but i will 100% do all requests for my dear supporters! Love yall :'D.

©Cokou 2024, all works belong to me.

[binniesbooks]

haihai fayeee!! this is my first time requesting but recently all i can think about is soft dom hyuka 😓😓

softdom!hyuka x sub!reader

nothing to much but hyuka and reader havent seen eachother in a while due to their busy schedules on a free night hyuka goes over to reader’s apartment to play video games and things end up in fluffy sex

• CAN I COME OVER?

HK 002 .F22 2024

wc 2.2k

pairings idolbf!Kai x fem!reader

warnings soft sex, safe sex, fingering, soft dom hyuka, sub reader, marking (+ anything I've missed)

faye's note guys, honestly, i struggle writing soft and fluffy scenes. I just found out lmao 😭 anyway, Hyuka definitely suits soft sex 😋 our pretty boy!

"Kai, I miss you already," you pout, looking at your boyfriend through the screen of your laptop. He chuckled heartily, hugging the plushie in his arms tight.

"I miss you more, little penguin," he smiled. "I'm sorry I'm not there, we haven't finished our tour yet," he added with a sigh, placing his chin on the plushie he was hugging.

"I understand, please take care of yourself, okay? I don't want you to lose weight," you smiled.

"Yes ma'am!" Your laugh resonates within the four walls of your room when he salutes. He looks so silly. He's cute and adorable.

"I'll get going, don't forget to eat your dinner, okay?" You hummed as an answer, waving and waiting for Kai to drop the call.

You sighed, closing your laptop with a heavy heart. It feels like it's been ages since you last hung out with your boyfriend. He's too busy with their world tour. Traveling from one place to another and moving again the next couple of days.

You can't protest though, knowing that your boyfriend loves his job and he's enjoying every moment of it. So you have nothing else to do but wait for him. Besides, he always keeps his promises, no matter what.

So when you saw the news on the TV that they already landed, you quickly sent him a message to just rest for now and just drop by the next few days.

You were getting a bit worried because it's been 4 hours, yet he hasn't replied to your message. It's already 10 o'clock in the evening, and he would normally text you back whenever you sent him one.

While you were pacing back and forth in front of your couch, your phone rang. You quickly answered the call, thinking that something happened to Kai.

"Y/n-"

"Kai! Kai, oh my god!"

"Hey, are you okay?" he answered, his voice hinting with worry. Your knees felt wobbly and weak, so you plopped down on your couch to at least relax a bit.

"I was so worried, I thought something happened to you!" you exclaimed, tears threatening to fall from your eyes. 

"Hey, I'm sorry for not texting you back. I won't do it again, I just thought you wouldn't be this worried about me," he tried to explain.

"How can I not be worried? God knows how worried I was!"

"I'm sorry, can I come over? I'll make it up to you," he said, attempting to coax you.

You sighed, worried that he might still be jet lagged. "Rest for now, Kai. You can drop by tomorrow, okay?"

You heard a heavy sigh from the other line, and you could even picture his pouty face. "Come on now, there's still tomorrow," you cheered him up.

"Fine, fine. Don't let just anyone in, okay?"

You nodded and hummed as an answer, as if he could see you. With another big sigh, you felt relieved. At least you knew he was okay.

Just when you were about to sleep, someone rings your doorbell. "Who in the world!" you exclaimed, throwing your blanket off of you. Because who could be ringing your doorbell in the middle of the night?!

"I swear if this is some type of prank—Kai?" Your boiling blood quickly calmed down after seeing your boyfriend in front of your apartment.

"Hi," Kai said with a little wave of his hand, smiling from ear to ear.

"What are you doing here? I thought I already told you to rest." You sighed, your eyes teary from how overwhelmed you are as you pulled him closer, hugging him tight and sobbing into his chest.

"Hush now, stop crying. Let's go inside, shall we?" he said while gently caressing your back.

You couldn't help but cling to him, as the both of you eventually made your way to the living room. He himself couldn't stop telling you how he missed you. With you leaning your head on his chest while sitting on his lap, he started telling you how the tour went. From how his two hyungs forced him along with Taehyun and Beomgyu to dance their unit song 'The Killa', to him deciding to play a little on their 'Growing Pain' song out of boredom.

You could also feel how your lips were about to be torn because of how you laughed non-stop from his funny stories from their tour. 

Little did you know, how he loves it when you laugh and smile genuinely. He loves the fluttering feeling in his heart. 

"Oh! I remembered something! Me and Soobin hyung played during our break from tours. Do you wanna try? I brought the controllers," he suggested.

Your curious little mind can't help but want to try what he was suggesting. So you nodded and planted a kiss on the tip of his beautiful nose.

"Of course! How dare I say no to your request?" you giggled.

You grabbed his hand and made your way to your bedroom. Settling deep into your bed, Kai booted up the game, story telling continued—he's still not done with it.

While the two of you enjoyed playing in the dead of night, Kai couldn't help but notice your hair tied up into a ponytail, exposing your beautiful neck. He tried gulping down the feeling, but he just couldn't push it back—your neck totally enticed him. 

The occasional bite of his lip and the way he looks at you didn't escape your line of sight. Until the electricity in the room shifted, an undercurrent of something deeper simmered between the two of you. As your characters danced across the screen, your real-life selves drew closer.

In a moment of spontaneity, you leaned in, brushing your lips gently against Kai’s. The kiss was soft at first, almost hesitant, but it ignited a warmth that spread through the both of you—controllers tossed and the video game characters now stuck.

The atmosphere quickly transformed. Walls that separated two worlds crumbled as you explored each other with the same curiosity and excitement the way you navigated through video game quests. The kiss deepened, fingers intertwining and bodies instinctively moving closer, wrapped in an embrace that felt warm and fluffy, like the softest blankets.

In that moment, the boundaries became blurred as Kai put his hands against your skin, and every whispered thought led to more tenderness. The laughter you shared now mixed with soft gasps, and the room filled with an energy only the two of you could understand.

"Sorry, I just... Fuck, I just missed you," Ka murmured with a smile. His thumb drawing small circles on your waist. You cradled his face, not bothering to answer him as you planted a wet kiss to his lips. Kai slightly opened his mouth, letting his tongue swirl around yours.

"Kai, please," you mumbled.

Kai turned you around, pulling you closer to his chest just between his legs as he locks his arm around your waist, his other hand gently rubbing the skin of your thighs. 

"You still smell so sweet," he muttered, planting a kiss on your neck that has been attracting him ever since you two started playing.

"I hope I can bring you on tours, I need you to take care of me," he pouts, his mouth still working wonders on your exposed neck, blossoming marks littered around. His fingers slowly dipped closer to your inner thighs, pushing your soft sleep shorts to the side. Kai ran his middle finger on your clothed pussy, feeling the wet cloth clinging onto your folds. 

With a single buck of your hips, he slips his hand inside your underwear, slowly pushing his ring finger in. Your gasp made him chuckle, twisting his finger inside you.

"K-kai... N-need more..." you pleaded, looking up at him, the rising and falling of his broad chest making you feel more aroused.You whined when he withdrew his finger, placing it on your lips as he whispered, "Sshhh." 

You shook your head as you plead again, wanting to feel more, desperate to cum. "Kai, need you," you slurred.

"Give me a minute." A wide grin grew on his lips as he grabbed his phone, a bright idea popping into his mind. He opened his music app, clicking on one of their most recent songs. He turned the volume down, enough for just the two of you to hear. His fingers returning to your wet folds as the rhythm of the song rings in your ear—it was The Killa.

Your sobs became louder as he pushed his middle finger inside again, twisting and curling to tease you. "K-kai!" You couldn't help but yelp when he slips his middle finger in, carefully fucking you with his digits, their song still softly playing in the background—the clips you saw about Kai dancing to it flashed on your mind.

As your abdomen tightened, his mouth played with your earlobe, occasionally licking, biting, and sucking it."G-gonna cum, please..." You hold his hand, guiding him to move faster and let yourself cum on his fingers. Your back arched against his chest, hands clutching on the sheets as your orgasm washed over you.

Your ragged breathing made Kai smile. "Are you okay?" he asked, kissing your temple while his fingers still move slowly inside you to let you ride out your high.You looked up to him, tilting your head, trying to reach for his lip. Which he responded by lowering his head down to give you a kiss. 

"Need to feel you, Kai. I missed this," you muttered, your breathing uneven.

"You don't need to ask, I missed this just as much as you do."

You quickly got out of bed to take a quick run to the bathroom, scavenging your small cabinet to find the half-used box of condoms you kept around for him to use whenever the two of you wanted to have your alone time.

Kai was already removing his jacket when you returned to your bedroom, showing his now buff build. 

"You've been working out, right?" You smiled, tossing the box on the bed as your hand found its way to Kai's chest.

"Mhm. I want my girl to have something to brag about his boyfriend, at least," he chuckled as he pulled your face to kiss your cheek. You couldn't help but giggle at his actions. He was really sweet and nice towards you. You couldn't ask for more.

Kai tapped the space beside him as he lay down, getting the two of you in the spooning position, one of his arms resting under your head. He pulled his sweats down, just enough for him to free his throbbing cock, giving you a single condom packet, quietly asking you to open it for him. He pumped his cock a few times before he heard a ripping sound coming from the foil material as you passed him the thin piece of rubber.

His hand pulled your sleep shorts down as his hand that was resting under your head wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you flush to his chest. 

"I love you, y/n," he whispered, kissing your ear.

"I love you too, Kai." Your giggle didn't last long and eventually turned into a soft moan when he slowly pushed inside you as he held your waist.

"This is the only reason I love when I am away from you for a couple of months. You get so tight," he moaned just right behind your ear. His words spurred you more.

His hand slowly unbuttoned your sleepwear, exposing your tits. Your breast perfectly fits his hand as he gently massages it while he starts thrusting inside.

"So tight, love, so tight. Fuck, I could barely move," he groans. You tried to answer, but moans and whimpers are the only thing that came out of your pretty mouth.

"Mmphh!" You whined when Kai pushed a little deeper inside you. You could feel how thick his cock was, how veiny and hard it was. "I need you like this on tour. Whenever I feel too tired, I just need you," he whispered, eyes tightly shut as he kept on thrusting inside you.

Your hand reaches back, tangling your fingers on his hair, spurring him further. His name is coming out of your mouth like a chant. Kai was sure he wouldn't last long when he buried his face on your nape, trying to hold back his moan.

He wasn't expecting you to press your hips towards him, and it only made him reach his orgasm faster. His hips stutter as he stilled inside you, strings of loud moans and whimpers came out of his throat. Kai was reeling when you clenched around him cumming on his cock, and he silently wished that you let him hit you raw instead.

Kai pulls away, his body sweaty and sticky, as he discards the condom in the bin next to your bed. He scoots closer to you as he turns you around and lets you lay your head on his chest.

"That was hot. Vanilla but hot," he chuckled, his chest harshly rising and falling.

"Thank you for dropping by," you giggled as you hugged his waist.

His fingers combed through your hair as the two of you slowly drifted to sleep—their song still on repeat, softly playing in the background, mixing with the soft snores coming from the two of you.

@binniesbooks 2024

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 58

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

The Value of a Moment by @a-fools-errand

When Lance’s previously obsolete skills in language suddenly become very useful, he finds himself wondering why aliens can’t account for the fact that humans, particularly him, need sleep and would prefer linear timelines. (Or: an Arrival AU because I love that movie)

yall OBSESSED does not begin to cover it. i have never read a fic where lance was so goddamn cool. and in like. the insanest of ways?? like of course lance is a polyglot but THIS....this is a whole new level. i havent even finished it fully yet but like god this thing is so fucking cool. if ur looking for a longfic stop looking

2. Rest Stop by @flaming-potato-arsonarson

Lance wasn't like the rest of the world. And he had never had a loving mother tell him it made him stronger for it. So he told himself, gathering up his courage and grit to face a world of winged humanity, when he, in fact, has no wings and turns into a mermaid instead. A world that wants him to die. So he'd keep this secret like a knife in his boot, a sharp weapon until he died on his own terms. Not because of who he was. Except, Team Voltron isn't so sure why Lance is all rough edges and sharp points about showing off his wings. Or acting like a member of the Flock in general. It's clear he cares for them, but he's never shown an intimate part of him. Until he has to.

oh god this has gotta be one of my CLASSIC fics. read it a few dozen times. i read it right when it came out, six ish years ago (goddamn), i can remember curling up in my old bunk bad and eating this up as the hours ticked by. i was HOOKED. my jaw was dropped my eyes were glued. could not get enough. if youre looking for mermaid lance with a twist....brother this is it

3. Looking for Rain by @thewriter2

Like most things, it starts with the little things: his smile, his confidence, his talent. Eventually, all these little things add up to one big thing that threatens to crash over them like a heavy rain. But, maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing. Maybe something beautiful would come from it. A 5+1 (really a 10+1) of Lance and Keith falling in love.

oh god guys..... @thewriter2 knows how to fucking haunt you. if a 10+1 (!!) isnt enough for you, i want you to know this line has been echoing in my head since i first read: "He looks at you like you’re a storm and he’s a desert desperate to drown." UM??? EXCUSE ME???? SIMILE OF ALL TIME ACTUALLY???? keith being so so visibly obviously in love with lance is my actual roman empire shit never leaves my mind

4. Astronauts by @thewriter2

When they entered the Blue Lion, Keith was Lance’s rival--the person Lance was working so hard to surpass. But slowly, Lance found himself thinking of Keith less as a rival and more as something close to a friend. So of course, Lance’s traitor of a heart decided that it would be Lance’s kind of friend that it would fall in love with.

tags to sell you: "keith is a dork but lance loves him anyway" (dorky keith my beloved), "hunk is an a+ friend" (yes he is), "lance is a lovesick fool" (yeah), and "allura is older sister goals" yes yes YES you get it. and like....while keith pov is my favourite to write by far, lances pov as he realises he is in love....that will always hold such a special special place in my heart

5. his own worth by frogsterz

In the middle of the conversation, Lance stops talking and no one notices. It’s not like he had been leading the conversation, for he hadn’t been, but somehow the fact that his lack of input or opinion isn’t noticed tightens the grip loneliness has on his heart. He looks down at his food, his face burning, his throat tightening up.

now usually anything but team as family isnt my deal. im not big on classic langst. but keith as a knight in shining armour.....what can i say i am weak willed. deeply. also " It’s what made it worse. I miss home and I miss being held and the rain, and I loved you. I thought you hated me." got me so bad got me WEAK like i have never recovered from that line and i doubt i ever will

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

[festivalsofmargot]

Gall of a Gryffindor {Sebastian Sallow x GN!Gryffindor!Reader}

Introduction: This one was actually a request!

“Can you write something with a Gryffindor reader? I always see for the other houses but havent seen anything specifically with gryffindor. Something among the lines of a gryffindor he can finally tolerate witty banter like that” - from cloudroomblog

Heads up, I went a bit off script from the game so some dialogue might be different and things may seem a little out of order. So sit back, relax, and have fun with it. 😉

Word Count: ~ 2,900

Warnings: Kissing

Author’s Note: I’m definitely open to requests if anyone wants to throw them my way but no pressure haha. They just might take a while since I only like to work on one story at a time and really let myself head cannon, blasting music to throw myself into it.

Songs (if interested):

So Hot You’re Hurting My Feelings - Squirrel Flower Cover

Dark Red - Steve Lacy

When I’m Small - Phantogram

Black Out Days - Phantogram

The castle was endless. You knew you were in for a challenge finding your classes with how large it was, but at that point it was ridiculous. You were convinced new rooms were being added every day to throw you off, which probably was happening if you thought about it.

As you were walking one way, you thought back on the directions you were given, and promptly turned on your heel to go the other way. But then you thought back again and realized you probably weren’t in the right area to begin with. You summoned your field guide and scrambled to look at your map, finger tracing the page to find some sort of route. The look on your face clearly gave away you had no idea where you were going and Sebastian Sallow rolled his eyes at you from afar.

“It would be a Gryffindor who was the late bloomer.” Sebastian cracked and laughed along with some fellow Slytherin students, not caring if you heard, maybe even hoping you heard. He glanced back at you and saw you were no longer fumbling with your field guide, but instead you were looking right at him. You didn’t seem bothered, quite the opposite actually. You were smirking at him like you were amused by the joke too. 

You looked him up and down through your lashes, gave a little hum, and went back on your way. He stopped laughing and swallowed thickly in his throat. He snapped his attention back to his friends and tried join back in on the laughter, but all that came out was a nervous chuckle. He glanced back over his shoulder and watched your form walk away. What was that?

-

He found the two of you had charms class together, and couldn’t help but stare as you walked in. Your hustling around the castle had made your cheeks flushed and given your uniform a disheveled look, robes falling off one shoulder slightly. Observing your state and thinking back on how you looked at him earlier made him shift uneasily in his seat.

Natty had called you over and you went to sit by her side. When you sat down, you gave her a thankful smile and then your eyes roamed to take in the classroom. Your gaze landed on Sebastian and his eyes darted away in hopes you didn’t catch him staring.

I’m just a little curious about you is all, nothing to get your hopes up over. He imagined himself telling you if you had caught him staring. 

Professor Ronen had the class go outside for that day’s accio lesson, putting you on the spot. In your first introduction to the Summoner’s Court board, you furrowed your brows together, fully focused on getting the spell right. Sebastian felt a little flame catch fire in his stomach. You make a cute face when you focus, big deal. He cleared his throat, having felt it suddenly go dry, and kicked at the grass at his feet.

Then Professor Ronen called up Natty to play you in an official game of Summoner’s Court. The way you laughed with her and seemed to have so much fun effortlessly had him rubbing the back of his neck. As the class went on and you were getting invested in the game, you loosened your tie and unbuttoned the top of your shirt a little, revealing a bit of your collar bone. Sebastian’s eyes glazed over, his thoughts taking him somewhere he shouldn’t be going in the middle of class. Oh no. He made himself think of Madam Scribner and that seemed to bring him back. Alright, that’s it. He needed to avoid you at all costs.

-

“Hello Sebastian.” 

Sebastian glanced up from his book to see you smiling at him sweetly, maybe even a little mischievously.

“Hello.” He eyed you with suspicion and tossed his book to the side, the two of you had never spoken outside of class before. Why were you coming up to him then?

“I heard a rumor that you like to go to the restricted section of the library.” You lifted a questioning brow, taking a step closer to him.

He shifted his gaze away from you. “That so?” What was going on with him? A Gryffindor was not making him nervous like this.

“Oh yes. And I was hoping, if it was true, you could take me next time you went.” You took another step towards him, causing him to take a step back and hit his back against the wall. He was trapped. He tried to play off the awkward position as if he had wanted to lean against the wall, folding his arms and looking down to the floor.

“Say it was true... You’d really be okay with breaking the rules? Being a Gryffindor and all.”

“Well, this could be life or death. So, maybe I can break the rules just a little.” And people called him a flirt.

A thrill shot through Sebastian and he finally met your gaze again. You were giving him a look of you in or out? It made him panic slightly, this aura you carried of showing interest yet still having one foot out the door.

“Meet me outside the library tonight. And tell no one.”

You raised your eyebrows slightly at him, then gave a small nod of your head and left without saying anything more. Sebastian released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He hated that he felt a bit exhilarated at the thought of impressing you.

-

Teaching you the disillusionment spell and getting the key to the restricted section went a lot smoother than he thought. It was as if you didn’t need him there at all. He could have told you everything you needed to know and you would have handled it yourself. But in the end, it was best he came along so he could browse the restricted section some more himself.

“What kind of book are you looking for any way?” He asked as the two of you walked along the shelves. Free to talk without having to whisper now that you were passed the prefects, Madam Scribner, and some monitoring ghosts.

“I’ll know it when I see it.” Was all you said, brows furrowed as you carefully looked at each book you passed.

He rolled his eyes at your cryptic answer and went back to inspecting the books himself. Though, the act was actually making him more agitated. He hadn’t realized how often he had been down there until he found he wasn’t stumbling across anything new.

Sighing and looking away from the books, he glanced over to you. There you went, making that face you always did when you were focusing. He thought back to the day he first saw it. Then he started to think about how you loosened your tie and unbuttoned your shirt. His eyes dipped subtly to your chest then, noticing you did the same to your uniform that night too.

“I’m not having any luck here, Sebastian. Is there any more to the restricted section?”

Sebastian darted his eyes away and made it seem like he was thinking intently about your question. Just as he had composed himself and was about to answer, the giant set of armor near the two of you fell apart and crashed to the floor. And out came Peeves.

“Who have we here? Sebastian Sallow and his new little friend, out exploring where they shouldn’t be. Naughty Naughty, you’ll get caughty.” He taunted.

“Peeves, don’t you -” Sebastian warned, but Peeves flew off in the direction of Madam Scribner anyway.

“I’m going to tell! I’m going to tell!” The poltergeist sang.

Sebastian growled. “Blasted Peeves! I got to go stop him or at least get to the librarian with a good excuse for all of this.”

You grabbed his wrist before he could leave. “How do I know you won’t go to the librarian and blame it all on me?”

The feel of your hand was hot on his wrist. “Why would I do that?”

You let go of him and crossed your arms. “Are you telling me you’d take the fall? How very, dare I say, Gryffindor of you that would be.”

“Oh don’t flatter yourself. I like having friends who are in my debt. Now go, good luck in your search.” Casting the disillusionment spell on himself, he was off, the feel of your hand still lingering on his wrist.

-

With one more detention added to his record and a brand new fifth-year now in his debt, Sebastian laid sleepless in his bed that night, his thoughts swirling with you. There was something about you that, though he couldn’t put his finger on it, drew him in like no other. 

Merlin’s sake, you were a Gryffindor. That was usually enough to make him annoyed with someone already. But now? Not only was he tolerating a Gryffindor, he was aching to be with said Gryffindor at all times it seemed. He found himself eager to impress you, standing up a bit straighter whenever you entered the room, and disappointed whenever you weren’t around.

Alright, he’d admit it to himself at least. He seemed to have developed a crush on you. But he didn’t let himself freak out about it too much. Crushes were flimsy, maybe all he needed to do was get you out of his system. After all, the two of you had barely interacted with each other. He might have just put you on a pedestal in his head and needed to bring you back down. But how would he do that? Maybe he could take you on a date without letting you know it was a date? He’d have to disguise your outing as something unromantic. 

Crossed Wands popped into his head. That would be perfect! You had held your own in Defense Against the Dark Arts so it wouldn’t be a shock to invite you. Though he was taking it easy on you, he felt you knew what you were doing with a wand. He could partner up with you for a few rounds, and then who knows? Maybe you’d stumble a bit and embarrass yourself so badly he’d have no choice but to lose his crush on you. He at least hoped you’d knock yourself down a peg or two in his mind.

It was settled then. He’d invite you after class the next day. It was a great plan.

-

Bringing you to Crossed Wands was a horrible plan, and had backfired on him spectacularly. You were a natural duelist, and on top of that the two of you were a dueling dream team. The way you seemed to make it look like a dance made his neck and ears burn with blushes. At one point you had asked if you could compete in a few rounds by yourself, taking on all your opponents with ease. And down he went, falling even more under that spell you seemed to cast on him so effortlessly.

At end of that day’s Crossed Wands session, you ran up to Sebastian and thanked him profusely for inviting you. Your cheeks were flushed and you were glistening in sweat. He felt like he was being tortured.

“Don’t mention it.” His voice was strained. “You’re a natural, it seems.”

It was as if you were on some sort of dueling high. “I’m so eager to learn more spells for this. Do you think you could teach me anything? The faculty is taking their time with me, and I don’t think I can bare to wait.”

He had never seen you so excitable and passionate. He always thought you were coolheaded about things from what he’d seen. Yet, it was only making you more endearing to him.

“I might be able to show you a thing or two.” He tried to avoid eye contact and began thinking about his quick escape out of there. He needed to get away from you fast.

“Sebastian, this was amazing. Glad you weren’t too ashamed to fight alongside a Gryffindor.” You jested. “I think I made you look rather good today, no?”

“Right... Sorry I tease you so much about being a Gryffindor.”

“It’s alright. Maybe I like getting teased by good looking Slytherin boys.” You gave him a quick wink.

Sebastian almost choked. Did he hear you correctly? He tugged at the collar of his shirt, feeling hot all of a sudden. “Pardon?”

“Oh relax, I’m just messing with you.” You laughed and playfully pushed him. As you began to walk away, you called back to him, “And don’t forget, I still owe you for the library.”

“How could I forget?” He replied just loud enough for himself to hear. He rubbed at his forehead, annoyed at how the day ended up for him.

-

What in Merlin’s name was he doing? He had become so eager to be alone with you under the guise of “showing you new spells”, that he invited you to the undercroft. Ominis would kill him if he found out. But he couldn’t think of a better place. And watching you make that face when you focused helped put the thought of an angry Ominis to the back of his mind.

“You’re getting it. Seems you got the wand movement down. And don’t forget, the incantation is ‘Confringo’.”

“Confringo!” You recited, and a blast of fire left your wand, setting the nearest candle fixture ablaze. “Ah! Look at that!”

Seeing you master confringo so easily and your excitement over it flustered Sebastian. Then to make things worse, you ran up and threw your arms around him. “Oh, thank you thank you thank you, Sebastian!” Pulling away slightly, you beamed up at him, “This is exactly the kind of spell I want to learn.”

He could only stare back at you. The air felt so thick, he couldn’t speak. Without thinking, he pressed his lips to yours. You were initially taken by surprise. But it didn’t take long for you to register what was happening and start kissing him back.

His arms wrapped around you tighter, hands slowly moving up your back. You opened your mouth slightly, wanting more of him, and he took that opportunity to bite at your bottom lip. The act made you feel light headed in the best way, and you were relieved Sebastian had such a strong and sturdy hold on you.

He walked the two of you back until you were up against one of the pillars in the undercroft, pressing his body more against yours. You could only continue holding him with your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he held you securely in place. He turned his attention to your neck and you couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped your lips.

“What's gotten into you?” You asked breathlessly, yet a pleased smile graced your lips.

He pulled away, breathless himself, and couldn’t pull his gaze away from your mouth. “I-I wanted to kiss you is all.” Still holding you in his arms, he leaned in for more and you met him eagerly. His hands moved to your hips where his thumbs began rubbing in small circles. Being with someone like this was uncharted territory for the both of you, but it was thrilling all the same.

One of your hands moved down to grab his tie and pull him closer, the feel of it excited him. His eyes shot wide open realizing where this could lead and he had to pull away. “We have to stop.” He placed his forehead against yours, squeezing his eyes shut.

“What? Why?” You asked as you went after his lips with yours.

He kissed you back briefly, allowing himself to enjoy how soft your lips were just a little longer. But the feeling of his insides constricting reminded him why he needed to pull away again. Be a gentleman, Sallow. It was inappropriate, too soon, and in the undercroft of all places? This couldn’t happen.

He let you go completely and walked a few feet away, rubbing his hand down his face. He glanced back at you as you were straightening out your uniform and he had to look away again. He couldn’t help but relish in the fact that he was the one that caused you to become so disheveled.

“Well, now what do we do?” You asked.

Still unable to look your way, he gave a breathy laugh. “Would you like to go to The Three Broomsticks for a butter beer with me this weekend?”

“You mean on a date?” This was the most unconfident he had ever heard your voice.

“Yes.” He answered, finally able to look at you again. “A date.”

“I would love to.” The two of you stared at each other, smiling sheepishly as if he wasn’t just kissing you senseless against the pillar. Grinning and looking down at your shoes, it hit you. “Oh no, I have to go.” You began speed walking to leave the undercroft. “I promised Poppy I would help her with something.” 

Sebastian wanted to reach out and stop you but he made himself let you go. Before you were out of sight you looked back at him with a soft smile. “Three Broomsticks, don’t forget.” And then you were gone.

He let out a chuckle. “How could I forget?”

[v1nsmoke]

𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑫 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯 // 𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑺𝑴𝑶𝑲𝑬 𝑺𝑨𝑵𝑱𝑰 𝑿 𝑽𝑨𝑴𝑷!𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹

spooktober week 2 - resident evil 8 x one piece, featuring sanji and vampire reader

tw: bl00d, mentions of torture, spoilers for sanjis wci backstory, can the end be taken as slight angst?

summary: after getting teleported to an unknown village, sanji must find a place to stay - and unfortunately for him, the old castle he found is already taken

a/n: no use of y/n. re8 is my comfort game ever since i first played it. the characters are all interesting and i wish the game was longer with us getting to know more abt them. i thought why not write a story where reader is a dimitrescu. if you havent played re8, i highly recommend! even if its titled as a horror game, its not that creepy :)

tags: @cheesesoda cause i know you like both one piece and re ♡ (sorry if u didnt want to be tagged!)

wc: 2.4k

He didn't know where he was. It all happened so fast. In one moment he was up against a weird devil fruit user, and in the other, he was laying in the cold, white snow. Sanji gets up into a sitting position, supporting himself up with his hands. He looks around, observing the terrain around him. It seemed like a village, surrounded by snow-covered mountains. The wooden houses gave him the feeling that this wasn't the most modern place he's ever been to, but it was beautiful. One thing bothered him though: there was nobody.

He found it weird that noone was here, he couldn't hear any noise from the houses either. No happy kids playing in the snow, no old people chatting away on the benches, nothing. Sanji gets up, curious where everyone went. Does anybody even live here anymore? Or is this just a long forgotten inhabited village, and that's why it all seems like he was thrown back in time?

Not knowing where to go, Sanji mindlessly roams the area in hopes of finding someone or something that could help him out. He trusted his crew and that they will get him back somehow, he wasn't worried about that. He knew that there was nothing he could do about the situation, given he didn't even know where he was. But he needed food and shelter until the others find a way to reunite, and in a village he is likely to find these.

Sanji knew that there was something wrong with the village. He would ocassionally see remains of blood splatters on the walls, or broken windows and doors. Maybe he was right, this is an abandoned village. But the blood seemed like it's been there for only a day, meaning that there might be survivors of whatever is going on here.

One thing catches his eye: a giant castle on the side of the village. He could see some faint light from the windows, even if the castle was far from him, meaning that somebody is likely living there. Should he go there armed? No, he got his legs and wits, and he couldn't find a weapon anyway. He stands in front of the grand, stone gate in front of him, the castle on the other side of it. Sanji takes a deep breath, and pushes it open.

He steps trough it, findig a snow-covered trail surrounded by leafless trees, a carriage a few metres away from him parked on the side.

"I've been waiting for you, Mister Vinsmoke." A man speaks, sitting in the carriage, dressed in Victorian-era clothing.

"How do you know my name?" Sanji stops in front of him, curious how a strange man he never met knows his name.

"Blackleg Sanji, the Wing of Strawhat Luffy. I tend to know lots of things, Mister Vinsmoke. The word from the village is proven to be the truth, then. Though I must say, that castle arouses suspicion."

"Yeah, and so do you."

Sanji didn't like how this seemingly merchant knew things about him and called him by his father's name. He preferred to go by Blackleg, the name coming from his real father's, Red Leg Zeff.

"And who do you might be?" He inquires.

"I am but a humble merchant." The man chuckles.

"Here?"

"Forgive my manners. Call me the Duke." He finally introduces himself. Sanji didn't fully trust this man.

"Earlier you said that the castle arouses suspicion. What did you mean by that?"

"That place is full of nothing but blood and death. Nobody ever comes back from there. It's under the management of Lady Dimitrescu." The Duke explains.

"Lady Dimitrescu?" Sanji murmurs to himself. A castle under a woman's rule? Maybe this place isn't so bad after all... "Thank you for your help."

Sanji walks away after this, heading towards the castle. Now he was even more curious about it. Does the castle look more modern on the inside? Who is Lady Dimitrescu? Could he live here until the crew defeats the devil fruit user and he can get back to them? He was hoping that this woman will be kind enough to give him some ingredients to cook and a room where he can sleep. The castle was big anyway, she probably wouldn't mind if he stayed there for a bit.

Here he was, at the castle's entrance. Sanji gupled as he opened the door, trying to be as quiet as possible. He closes them behind himself as quietly as he opened them, and makes its way further into the castle. He was amazed by the interior. The floor was clean, the shiny wooden planks and the sole of his dress shoes creating a clicking noise as he explores the hallways. The walls were a dark shade of green, with some brownish-crimson wood elements, it all looked straight out of a tale.

He stumbles upon the main hall. His eyes widen at the sight. The room is illuminated by the light of the candles placed on the huge chandelier, a large, intricated staircase leading to the second floor while the white tiles shine on the floor. Sanji is mesmerized, findig the whole setting elegant. He was suddenly snapped out of his trance by a voice behind him.

"Who are you?! And what are you doing here?!" Sanji turns around to find a fuming girl standing there, dressed in an all black dress, the hood of it on her head, her eye makeup matching the colour of her outfit.

Sanji froze. He didn't expect this.

"A-are you Lady Dimitrescu?" He shakily asks.

"No, but if she finds out you're here, you'll end up just like all the other men. Same if my sisters find you. They have a lot less self control than I do..." the girl approaches Sanji.

~○~

You stare at the man in front of you, his slightly dissheveled blonde hair covering one of his eyes, the black suit he was wearing perfectly fitting him.

"What do you mean by that, ma cherie?" He asks.

"Mother hates men. And just intruders in general." You tell him, remembering what happened to the last person who entered the castle. Your mom did seem to like the wine made from his blood.

"I-I mean no harm, I promise! I just need cooking materials, and I was wondering if I could sleep here? Please, I'll make food for you, just let me stay for a bit. Just until I can get back to my crew!" He begs, holding your hands together.

You wanted to decline, to send him away before your mother or one of your sisters find him, or before you end up killing him yourself. But he looked at you with such kind eyes, and it seemed like he wasn't scared of you at all. Did he not know anything? About who or what you were? That you could tear his throat out any second? He was holding your hands so gently, like you could break at any moment, staring at you with his cerulean eyes.

"I can't. You came to the worst place possible, run while you can." You break free from his touch, turn around and head back to the direction where you came from. It was for the best. If he stays, he'll just get tortured and killed.

"No, please, I-" he starts, but can't find the right words to finish. So, he just stood there, not moving a muscle, waiting for you to change your mind.

"Who is this manthing?" You hear an all too familiar voice behind you. You turn around, only to see the man with wide eyes, your mother looming over him. Of course she did, she was eight foot tall. This was the end for the man, you knew it. But he did nothing wrong, and he just felt different, you can't just hand him over to your mother.

"What have I told you about men?" Her voice was menacing, and if looks could kill, you would be dead right now.

"I know mother, and I apologise. I stumbled upon him by accident." You explain.

~○~

Sanji didn't flinch. He didn't move, he froze. He didn't turn around to see who or what was behind him, he could feel the presence and see the huge shadow created by the person. His mind was going a million ways, not even being able to focus on the conversation you were having with who he assumed was your mother. One thing he did notice was how your expression changed when you saw her, how you looked so... afraid. Did this woman behind him do something wrong to you? Your complete aura changed, it was noticable. He knew that there's no way he'll fight a woman, and he also knew that the crew won't be here to save him this time. This might be the end for him. He feels as the woman behind him breathes down his neck, then suddenly bites into it.

Sanji grunts, the teeth of the woman deep in his throat. He didn't know what was going on. Is this how he's going to die? No, because the woman pulled back, and he was still alive, standing, breathing, and he could still feel as his heart was beating in his chest. He could hear the two women talking, but his mind was too out of its place to understand what the conversation was about. And that was the last thing he knew before fainting.

~○~

He woke up, chained to the wall in some unkown room. The quiet cracklig of the fireplace gave him a slight comfort, but the pain wouldn't go away. He had to figure out an escape plan, quick. He tried to wiggle himself out the handcuffs, but to no avail.

Just then, a bunch of flies flooded the room, all in the same spot until the seemed to merge together, forming a human-like figure.

"Didn't know you could do that..." he quietly says.

"There are so many things you don't know about me, Vinsmoke Sanji." The girl from earlier says.

"How do you know my name? My manners seemed to dissapear when we first met, i apologise."

"The Duke. He sometimes pays us a visit. He was here this morning while you were here, passed out."

"Well, I didn't even ask you your name, ma cherie. I'm Sanji, I'll get you out of here in no time." Sanji smiles down at her.

"Hm, to me it looks like you're the one who needs to be saved." She looks up at Sanji, who was still chained to the wall. She was right.

"I guess you're not here to save me. Going to bite?" He asks.

"I could. I warned you about my mother and sisters, you didn't listen. Look where it got you."

"What will they do with me? A bunch of pretty ladies sucking all my blood out? It's a better way to go than some I can imagine."

"Don't worry, it's gonna be quicker than that. And a lot more painful. Mother said you'd make some pretty good wine."

"I can in fact make wines, if that's what you wish for."

"Not like that."

"Oh."

The awkward silence set in before being broken by the girl's sigh as she took steps towards Sanji.

"What are you doing, cherie?"

"You want to die here? You mentioned that you got a crew somewhere. Think about them at least." She says, her hands on Sanji's handcuff holding him to the wall. He feels as the first handcuff loosens, and he pulls out his hand from it, looking at the girl in disbelief.

Both handcuffs fell off Sanji's hand, freeing him. He was speechless. This girl that he met yesterday, the one whose mother possesed major hatred towards men and the person who tied him up like this, who could end his life right in this moment just saved his life.

"I don't want to leave you here. Please, come with me. I can see you're not happy here with her." He holds his hand out for the girl to grab, but she doesn't do it. Instead, she looks down, and Sanji knows he was right. She really didn't like it here.

"I... I can't." She holds back her tears, her nails digging into her palm. "A few seconds in the cold air, and I freeze to death. And I mean I turn into a literal ice sculpture and die. I'm not a human like you. I might even end up causing you harm. You felt what my mother did to you. She's a vampire, and so am I."

Sanji is quiet for a few seconds. He doesn't know how to reply. He didn't want to leave her here to suffer under her mother, especially knowing that he could've done something about it.

"That's not a problem. I'll keep you warm if that's what is holding you back. I trust you that you won't bite me. You could've done it the moment we met, but you didn't. I don't care if you are a vampire, we have stranger people on the crew than that. Maybe our talking reindeer could even help you so that you won't freeze to death when it's cold."

She was stunned. This man she met yesterday spoke so kindly to her like nobody ever did before. Not her mother, not her sisters, nobody. She wanted to go, to join the crew, to be free, to know Sanji better, maybe the other crew members too. Talking reindeer? She was interested. She only knew the definition of "friends" from books she was forbidden to read, but now she could have the chance to experience what it's like.

"I... I'm just an experiment, I..." she tries to protest, holding back tears. She wanted to leave, really, but her mother wouldn't approve this. She never got to experience life outside the castle, or see what was outside the walls.

"Looks like we have something in common, then." Sanji warmly smiles. He knew what it felt like. "But now I have a loving crew, and most of the times I forget this part of my past. You can do it, too." He gives reassuring smile. He can't leave her here.

He was right. She lived here so long, the village reminding her every day of the reason of her existence, that she's just the product of some crazy scientist woman's experiments. But now she can leave this behind. Just like Sanji did.

She looks down at Sanji's hand, still held out for her. This time, she places hers into the blonde's, ready to leave.

vinsmoke sanji belongs to eiichiro oda and resident evil 8 belongs to capcom, i do not own any of these.

© v1nsmokes 2023. Do not modify, translate or rewrite.

[deepseacityunderground]

anyway... i was actually thinking recently about why i prefer "subtextual" or "accidental" lgbt stories compared to explicitly "queer rep" stories when it comes to relationship and character writing... i said i was reading a lot of midcentury (20th) and earlier literature where, if lgbt identity is even brought up at all, its either maligned by the narrative or at least not central. and yet... i personally found the quality and depth of the same-sex relationships (implied/subtextual even tho) much more engaging than the modern queer lit (genre) books i was also reading alongside, which i found kinda unsatisfying and also sometimes really fucking annoying...and then i also think about how i was having a discussion w/ someone earlier re. the lady oscar readaption where many ppl were confused why the series is considered yuri when the lesbian relationship is at beast subcontextual, and then comparing it to modern yuri which is wholly engaged with lesbianism in a way which would not actually have been possible when lady oscar was first released. its like when a thing gets popular for being countercultural and spawns so much trope that it becomes the new culture so when people return to it later they cant see it for what it is.

now im not trying to say that i think these older stories are better "queer rep" than explicitly lgbt narratives, or even defending queerbaiting, this is simply a look at my own tastes... like i think a good example of this (even if not quite relating to what i was talking about earlier) is i was reading this contemporary novel about lesbians doing lesbian things and theyre explicitly lesbians and altho its not a romantic novel theres lesbian sex and lesbian relationships. but... i found the characters so distant and one-dimensional, i had difficulty actually imagining them interacting in a romantic way, or having a community. meanwhile, touhou project is not a lesbian story. nobody in touhou is a lesbian, except maybe on a subtextual level if you squint. yet... i havent been able to stop thinking about the homoerotic components of byakuren and miko's rivalry since i first played the games. i think part of it is the subtlety of it, youre given the freedom to construct a relationship from these little hints and leftover bits that you find as you learn the story. i also think that one of the issues with "queer lit" (genre) which is becoming better thankfully, is the fact that lgbt authors may feel very self-conscious that theyre writing for both younger lgbt people like themselves but also cishets and so they feel like they cant push the complexity of their characters too far incase they become "bad rep" by being too much of a real person. this is especially an issue with books with wlw or transfem narratives because of the "predatory" stereotypes associated with these demographics from bigots so characters from those communities are either portrayed as uwu soft meme entities that do nothing because giving them agency would make them too scary or (even worse) an "edgy" countercultural reaction to prev that never quite commits because once again too scared to write real people incase theyre "bad rep".

[kageygreye-skies]

didn’t think chappell roan would impact me SO much after finding her and her artistry but she kind of literally made me fully accept that i was a lesbian and showed me there’s space for me in the community LMFAO.

allow me to take you on a fuckin journey lmfao. heres a lil story about a recent revelation about my identity that dominoed from listening to the rise and fall of a midwest princess. lol

i found chappell technically whenever she released pink pony club lol i just had never processed it was her. (i listened to midwest princess for the first time a long while who and when it got to ppc, i paused my phone, and yelled, “THAT WAS HER? THE WHOLE TIME??”), her pop sound and drag visuals were something i found refreshing and exciting. discography went triple platinum in my household fr.

watching a lesbian drag queen rise in the public has been so lovely to see, as a queer singer myself. watching that same woman be so open about her experience as a lesbian, pay homage to other gay individuals and icons, turn down the white house for a pride performance, perform at prides in states where lgbt rights are consistently under threat,,, its beyond inspiring to me! and reminds me to remember what i really want to do with my career as a performer and the people i want to lift up and pay my respects to.

this ultimately caused me to want to brush up on the queer history i knew and start learning about the history i didnt. at that time my focus veered to history about lesbians.. because i wanted to search for lesbians that shared my experience.. if there were any that did.

i have had a strange relationship with my gender and sexuality since i was 13, coming out first as bi at 15, and nonbinary at 17 (although i experienced gender dysphoria long before then). i have used the nonbinary label since, but my sexuality was something i was never sure i could settle on. i flipped between id’ing as bi and lesbian for months until i just stopped using labels so i didnt have to think abt that shit anymore😭

the term lesbian was what felt the most right to me, after years of periods of trying to convince myself that if i jump through strange loopholes and squint a little, that i could potentially like a man. i would worry and think things like, “what if im wrong and i just havent found one that i can maybe like? what if there actually is a boy who is exactly like the idealized anime-ass version of boys in my head who is also soft and girlie and would wear matching dresses with me?” i would have to use plenty of implausible what ifs just to entertain the idea. i did this even despite the fact that i cannot and do not picture a future with a man, i have only questioned my physical attraction to men when they “look like girls,” i am almost always slightly grossed out when men express sexual attraction to me, and have not had any kind of intimacy with guys where i didnt feel almost completely disconnected. i didnt find men fulfilling. it took me very long to realize that if i have to literally FORCE myself into liking them…i dont like them lol.

i have never had to question my attraction to women, butches + femmes,, ever. i could spend hours writing both prose, poetry, music, screenplays,, just fuckin dissertation after dissertation about women.. and sometimes it has taken me hours to list at least 5 reasons of “why i like this guy” that didnt involve him reminding me of a woman. guys, the comphet.. was rough. very grateful i have a therapist lol

once i accepted again that i was definitely solely sapphic, i still felt my more-than-partial disconnect from womanhood excluded me from being able to claim the lesbian label, despite how right it began to feel. i was also worried that the people around me would think i was completely detransitioning to cis,, which definitely was not the case. although i am fine with feminine gendered terms and pronouns, and while my expression and interests lean slightly more feminine, my relationship with “womanhood” has always been messy and complicated. i remember first-ish experiencing dysphoria around when i was 11, although i didnt know what that meant at the time. for as long as i can remember, the concept of “being a woman” was not something i felt was entirely me.

i knew there were lesbians that were gender non conforming, but i was not at all aware of the intertwining of lesbianism and gender identity until i began reading more about lesbian history. realizing there have always been lesbians outside of the binary (the popular sunset lesbian flag was designed by emily gwen, a nonbinary lesbian), people who used lesbian/butch as their gender identity, cis lesbians who use pronouns other than she/her, lesbians who use/have used hrt (like me i used hrt for 2 years👋🏾😀) lesbians who bind or pursue top surgery… they were always there. i am halfway through the stone butch blues now and it has actually changed my life. not only did it increase my already overflowing gratitude for my lesbian and queer elders and their experiences… but it made me really realize there has always been a space for me. when that sank in.. i felt immense relief. and then i cried for a fuckin LONG ass time lmao

since all of this i have felt a lot more sure of myself, and have embraced myself in a way i think i have always struggled to before.

so to recap… i am a lesbian. and its pretty rad. and i also love chappell roan. she reminds me of all the reasons why i love being queer and is someone i want to look up to as i continue in my finally-starting-to-go-somewhere career as a performer. one day we will collab and ill tell her all of this in person (watch out yall! it will happen i can sense it😤)

[golden28s]

Totally optional, fun Gallavich questions ☀️🌙

thanks for tagging me to the coolest person @callivich 💖

What’s a fic you’ve read more than once? i havent read that many gallavich fanfics since i watched the show in like april BUT im loving Africa and ill probably read it once it's finished

What’s a gifset you always have to reblog? s7 gifsets are really person to me but also maybe s10 and s11 because they reached the peak of softness

What’s a headcanon you can’t stop thinking about? maybe that ian would tell mickey "i told you so" when they become parents and mickey turns out to be an absolute incredible dad that will play, sing, dance anything with his children.

What’s a fanart you love looking at? maybe @gallavichonly @heymrspatel and i accept recommendations btw id love to see more fanart

What’s an idea you’d love to create if you had the time/inspiration? id probably write like a series of one shots based on taylor swift songs

What’s something you’ve discovered since entering this fandom? A new trope you love? A different analysis of the show? Something else? i think that not judging characters, like always be aware of their circumstances and what made them do or say that and that might not justify them but it explains their thought process, it explains why and gives them some sort of humanity to their mistakes idk if this makes sense but yeah that, don't judge a character too soon, try to understand them.

What’s an underrated trope or concept you’d like to see more of? the secret dating, we know they secretly dated and stuff but i feel like it's actually a really fun concept to play with despite their circumstances in the show, it gives you so many possibilities.

What’s your favourite season? And has this changed after multiple rewatches of the show? the early seasons have special place in my heart, so s4-5 and i think gallavich totally saved s7, i love that part of the season

What’s a plot hole you wish had been answered or resolved? i would've loved to see ian healing from the grooming and realizing it was grooming, it would've been nice for the character to heal old wounds and start fresh a new life with mickey in a new neighborhood ready to create new memories

What scene or moment do you feel isn’t discussed enough? the just wondering if we're a couple or not scene, we definitely should discuss more the fact that mickey answered too quickly, he absolutely had been calling ian boyfriend in his head

What line/dialogue/description from something else (a poem, a book, a tv show, a movie, or something else) do you feel describes Ian and Mickey’s relationship? im gonna quote noel fisher and as he said: "Ian's been that kind of guiding angel for Mickey so he's going to have to turn into a pretty much kind of a protective angel for Ian"

What do you think is next for Ian and Mickey post-finale? i think they're gonna learn to communicate even more, they were in really good path already. i think the writers didn't have much faith in them in that aspect but the conversation they have in s11 about going back or not to the new neighborhood made evident that they can communicate, they listen to each other and understand the reasons, each other's feelings. so yeah, i think they're gonna get even better at that and also they're not gonna wait that much to become parents. i think they eventually will find new jobs, ian will have his tomatoes and mickey will adore looking at him doing his thing every sunday morning. i really really think they finally found their peace, their home and are gonna be very very happy and disgustingly in love forever because they're also hopeless romantic and want that so bad.

im gonna tag a few people and as always feel free to do it or not <3 @lupeloto @mikhailoisbaby @mickeysgaymom @redwiccanrobin @lyricailove @energievie @depressedstressedlemonzest @juliakayyy

[lunatic-fandom-space]

The King Steps Out (1936)

Ahhhhhhhh, this one was absolutely delightful (๑>◡<๑)

But before I properly talk about the film, I need to talk a bit about Sissy (1932) which is what its an adaptation of. Sissy was originally an austrian operetta (which was itself based on a preexisting comedy called Sissys Brautfahrt) and was a pretty big hit, but because the composer was a jewish man in 1930s austria, they had to stop putting it on at some point and so they decided to sell the rights to it to Universal Studios, who then produced The King Steps Out. I was aware of the operetta the whole time and I doubted that I would be able to find a full recording of it but I atleast wanted to listen to the songs and review those, but I couldnt find them either so I just made my peace with the fact that I would have to leave it out of my list, but then I decided to look for it one last time after I had finished watching the movie and before I started writing this, and guess what. yeah, I found all the songs after all. So my next post post will be about Sissy, but as of writing this one, I havent listened to it yet, so I'm not gonna be bringing it up again.

Anyway, let's finally get into The King Steps Out

This film starts off with Helene (whos called Helena here) being called over to Franz Joseph's (whos called Francis here) birthday, which is being celebrated in an estate near some small town in the middle of nowhere, to be engaged with him at the behest of their mothers even though she's already in love with one of Franz Joseph's servants. Elisabeth refuses to let her sister get married to a man she doesn't love, so when Helene and their mother travel to austria, she concocts a plan to follow them and prevent the engagement, and she also enlists their father to help since he does not like the idea of one of his faughters marrying into the imperial family. Once there, Elisabeth manages to get into the estate by pretending to deliver a dress for Helene and ends up catching Franz Joseph's eye. From then on the film is mostly those two being cute together, a good chunk of the middle portion is just them hanging out at a carneval-type thing that the nearby town is putting on for the emperor's birthday while no one recognizes him. Them being cute together is occasionally interrupted by Sophie planning the engagement and stuff but it doesnt really amount to anything; the movie ends with Franz Joseph introducing Elisabeth as his fiancee and future empress and everyone is extremely happy about it, even Max, and Sophie and Helene are not even mentioned.

So, the story is kinda weak and honestly, most of the characters arent great, but Im wasnt bothered by it because this was really a romcom that was mostly carried by Elisabeth and Franz Joseph having great chemistry together. Grace Moore as Elisabeth is absolutely delightful, she's so mischievious and silly but also has this sense of sophistication and grace about her. Very wonderful, I could not stop smiling whenever she was on screen. Franchot Tone as Franz Joseph though was... weird. Again, he had good chemistry with Elisabeth and I even think he's fairly charismatic, but idk. there was something kinda off about him. He had a few of these really bad, really sleezy moments and one of them was his first interaction with Elisabeth, which happens quite early in the film and its just a very bad first impression. Basically, after she's managed to get into the estate, Elisabeth goes into the garden to pick some roses for Helene before she speaks to her, even though theres a sign next to them saying its forbidden to pick them, and Franz Joseph and a servant of his see her from a window and he tells his servant that he should go and arrest her and bring her up to his study because he wants an excuse to talk to her. Idk, I just thought that was weird and kinda gross.

I will say, I do really like what happens once Elisabeth is in the study. While she's being brought up there by the servant, she's complaining about getting arrested and hyperbolically asking what kind of punishment the emperor has in store for her for daring to pick his roses, then the servant leaves her alone with Franz Joseph and she, thinking that he's just another servant, starts complaining about the emperor. Eventually she's like "I'm getting impatient, can you tell that emperor to get here quickly so I can find out what's gonna happen to me already" and Franz Joseph is like "yeah sure" and he steps out of the room, then comes back to formally announce the emperor, steps out again before coming back in like "so, I heard you wanted to speak to me, huh?" That was very silly, I really liked that

Overall though, their relationship is pretty fun and those few weird moments dont ruin it for me. Its very much based on teasing each other and witty banter, which I found really enjoyable to watch

That being said, I thought the ending of the movie was pretty bad. I kinda forgot what exactly the circumstances were that lead up to this, but Franz Joseph ends up more or less bullying Elisabeth into having a birthday dinner with him at the inn she's staying at, and when he insists that she drink to the emperor's health she's like "you already insisted that I eat with you, now you're insisting I drink with you, what are going to insist on next?" but then he does get her to atleast toast, and thenhe says he wants to kiss her and she has to be like "no, I said i wouldnt kiss you!" And this isnt banter or teasing or anything, its so oddly unpleasant for the ending of a romcom, I hate it. Especially when you consider that they get engaged basically right after that and then the movie ends. Still, I didnt mind it too much immediately after I was done watching, I wouldve probably forgotten it already if I didnt have to write this review, so I'll probably be able to rewatch this film without too many issues, just not very soon. I'll give it a few years until I'm back in the mood for this one.

Before I forget, this film was adapted from an operetta, so there were songs as well. Honestly, I dont have too much to say about them, I think there were like six or seven that were all pretty alright, and I think my favorite one was called "Call to Arms". Elisabeth sings it with a bunch of soldiers during her and Franz Joseph's carneval date after he basically challenged her to show him her charms and seduction skills, its was a pretty fun song.

One last thing that I want to mention before I wrap this up is, this movie is only an hour and 25 minutes long but it felt like it was longer than that when I watched it, but I dont mean that in a bad way at all because I loved just getting wrapped up in this fluffy little story for an extended period of time. It only started dragging a little during the ending, but that's probably because of how unpleasant I found it.

That's pretty much it, now onto the three small things I couldnt fit into the main post:

Max played a pretty big role here and I did quite like him too, even though most of his screentime were just beer jokes. At the start of the film, before they go off to austria together, Elisabeth makes him promise not to drink beer during their journey but then he just keeps drinking it haha. I usually don't find jokes like that funny at all, and I didnt find them funny this time either, but idk, I did find them kinda charming

I didnt really like the costuming, Elisabeth is the only one who gets consistantly good outfits, except for the Silver Dress which I find very insulting because theyve been hyping it up the whole time and then she finally wears it at the end and it looks bad. I was expecting it to be the iconic dress (even though I would not describe it as silver) because this movie just seems like it would have that dress in it, but then it was just this pretty unremarkable dress made out of some really cheap-looking, shimmering fabric. Very disappointing.

Franz Joseph calls a Romani woman the g-slur. He gets his palm read tat the carneval and then when she goes to read Elisabeth's palm as well, she refuses so she leaves but Franz Joseph insists that she do it and he uses that word to call the woman over. I just wanted to mention that so that the people who go to watch it after reading my post don't get jumpscared by a slur in the middle of watching this cute old romcom. I dont remember anything else that was overtly offensive like that though

[laaawliet]

i am actually in fact extremely depressed LOL several people have asked me what my plans for 2024 are and i have no idea. idk how to plan, i dont feel comfortable thinking about the future. 10 years ago i was sure i was going to die and im still here and it doesn't feel like a good thing skjnjks i keep looking for people's approval and i'm still lonely as fuck and idk what to do, i really don't know if it would be better to literally die or if im overreacting skdjkjs idk if i should delete everything and throw my phone away and stop doing things so that i dont have to go through this fucking ordeal every few weeks. i havent had time to actually process things and im so tired of not being wanted and comparing myself and just being sad all the time lol and i HAVE to say lol because i have to lessen the thing obv .... ugh

it's been a while since i do my moping in here because it's gotten to the point where i know that 1. no one reads this (which is, again, something that makes me go "why do i want someone to read this?" etc) and 2. if someone reads it, they don't care? like objectively, what can anyone do for me anyway? lol i remember when i started this blog it used to crush me that everyone got asks and i never did (have grown to accept this as a reality, that's not even what this post is about). it made me so upset not figuring out what i needed to have to have people seek me out and want to interact with me. im the person that always searches others and i know i make people get used to that by being like that but at the same time i AM tired. and sad. it used to make me so upset that i ~tried so hard to be likeable and it obviously backfired. i've taken to reading stuff i used to write back then and i ache for the person i was and how i didn't see how normal and nice and even funny i was lol but i never made anything anyone found "worth" it and that was enough to make me feel like crap. i even gave up writing for 5 years because i was never going to be a person people enjoyed reading lol or paid attention to or whatever. i do care about the stupid numbers and i hate being like this but i seriously don't know HOW to stop caring about it. someone told me once maybe i should just stop writing if it makes me so miserable but i was more miserable when i didnt write. idk what the point of being alive rn is. my career needs me to be something im not or have money that i dont have. the world is full of shit. people keep dying all the time and i dont know, my thoughts are not in order im not doing good

[garfisded]

There is no such thing as life but constant illusions to what it means to live. do we even live ? what even is this life that we so crave. do we aspire to be things or are we made too. the more you take life in the abstract the worse it gets. we were animals werent we. what is life. see it for what it is. it is nothing. no meaning to add and none to be take away. it is just barren. what is human about this kinda living at all. you wake up. you go to a place where you are told about things that are a fraction of the actual knowledge of the world. you consume and never question. what is the knowledge even about. if it has anything to do with upholding the current world than you are living a a farce. so am i. but its involuntary. but knowing whats important and whats not important are two different things. who tf am i. who tf are you. what is it that the world revolves around. me? you? nothing? why does it do anything. idk idc anymore. why even think about liberation when your own kinda are fine with it. we are just house slaves. the field slaves slumber.

Why do i care about any of this. why do i care at all. whats wrong with me. nothing. everything. both? maybe but i am too weird. everyday i make up my mind. ill stay alone and not follow anyone. yet i fall for that shit. why? why do i keep myself in such a humiliating position. do i even think. i feel so lonely all day. everyone even close to me dont like me. the best i can do is be there yet that wont do shit. who even cares. who doesnt. whose faking it. am i faking it myself. what are my allegiances. do i care for anyone. how can anyone not know about themselves. i cant. i am hollow. nothing in or out. it is but a nothing burger. i do have a brain sometimes. does it think. no it plays. it does shit on itself. control is one thing i struggle with. do i suck as a person. cause i feel like it. i ignore people. do i. who is it. why is it. reminds me. lonely i am and i wander for comfort. i leach for comfort. i leach for hugs. i leach for people that are okay with me being too much around them. i feel like they hate me. everyone does. maybe some dont. maybe some cant stand me. maybe some hate me for what i say. maybe some think i am too much of a people pleaser. who do i care for. idk. love is something i crave. people make me feel like i am hunting for some weird creature that will take me in. ofcourse shit doesnt work like that does it. since i was 13 this shit has been normal. i feel like a dick to every person i think about. i feel like i am using them for myself. probably am. do i stay in my seat all day and just sit. maybe.

i can breathe sometimes but sometimes i cant. i feel like self harm is a knife away. just need to find one that people wont care for being missing. why do i do it. do i do it to get attention. i feel nothing when i do that but do i want too. i really wanna stop writing and just pick a knife up and start. the last ones still havent gone away. the people that found out sometimes didnt care. who cares. does anyone. my parents have seen them. i have seen them. i dont mind seeing them. idk what to feel about them. i crave love. i feel high with one wiff. i want to get high maybe. idk what i want to do but something of worth maybe. what if i end up dead soon willl anyone mind or does anyone need to mind. i dont think so. i want so much noise in me that it takes me out. what is even the point of living when everything you hate is you. you are part of it. i am part of it, we all are part of it.

wiff once took down a dragon. happy they took on their horse wanting to parade the dead carcass. the whole of humanity was to sing their praises for as long as time permitted. it was something that everyone wished they did and wiff did it and they wanted to be known as the one person that actually slayed a dragon. The horse now carrying the weigh of a whole dragon was unable to take the dragon any further than a whole centimeter. Wiff was mad. the looked all around to find something to make the dragon move but they failed bad at every try. They starved themselves. they did everything they could and stayed near the dragon moving inch by inch towards an empty town.

Wayberg was not ever a lively place but since their hero Wiff had embarked on a journey to kill the biggest enemy of the human race they waited in concern and excitement. The town was frozen in a thin tension. the air horns rang, the panic grew. did Wiff return or was it something else. the town stood still then suddenly loose canon fire and the sound of war horns invaded the peace of the town. the town was not pillaged but raped. every nook and cranny raped for every cent of satisfaction to be taken from the town. the children were eaten or killed or raped. Wiff returned. they found no glory but death and ash. they decided it was time. almost dead and with a dragon dead body mounted to their horse Wiff started cutting at the eye of the dragon. spraying blood everywhere and at everything. Wiff were covered in everything that could found in the blood of a dragon. They took to their hunting routine. going from one set of footsteps to another. they found the camp and led the bloody charge alone and at the front. they were instantly killed. no man ever knew of their feat but they knew of the person that charged the hideout of an army captain that was goin to be known as Emon.

Emon had been been evonme before the recent pillage. he had been but a lowly army cheif with less than 15 soldiers but asked to mount an attack with around 50. he was to kill loot and destroy all in sight. evonme was to be the sacrifice to be killed and parted but evonme survived. according to his birth prophecy evonme was to die and be reborn and hence he was. death was the name of a little girl. evonme knew not to be scared of her bur knew of how to approach it. he did and when it ended evonme was ressurected as emon.

Death was little girl waiting to die. her family just killed infront of her made her numb to everything. her ears ringed of death. the word. the diety. the self. death her name she took to her holy duty. she rode in with fury with everything she had and was reunited to herself at the end.

Evonme took a girl by her head and raped her in front of her dead family. he mocked her. he shoved her face into her father, her mother. evonme took her life as he had many other. but before he did it was her who kept herself onto him. her name was death. he could hear her ears. he could hear everything and in his crazed state he killed her and drank her blood. proclaiming Evonme dead. Emon's birth in the battelfield tool a life more precious than death.

No thing such as life existed in the world. emon's return scarred him. his eyes, his mind, his self could not forget death. he had become one but also another. he had killed one but the other was living.

Emon died. he killed himself with his own sword. his member was also cut and put up his behind. his sword specially crafted on the command of his mother. the beautiful engraving read ' may you live forever long'. mother died. she died for her son had but she was the one who killed him. she did it for lusts sake but it was her sons wishes. this was the life of some weird freaks

[babygirlthor]

if you had to sum up all your fics with (1) ao3 tag what would it be?

[its-monster-mash]

i know you havent written for doomhead in a while but i found one of your older imagines posts and i was wondering if you could perhaps write something for doomhead with a blasphemy kink? him as a priest or anything like that. thank you and have a nice day <3

ABSOLUTELY!!! I LOVE this request; Blasphemy is kind of ✨My Thing✨ so I was really excited to write this!! It’s been a while since I’ve written in Imagine Format, so I apologize if the pacing is a bit awkward. It does start a little slow, building up to WHY Doomhead is a Priest now, and why The Reader crossed paths with him.

Summary: Doomhead has to relocate following a loss at 31, ends up masquerading as a Priest in a small town. Reader is the Survivor of 31, who skipped town because she thinks that if she told the truth, no one would believe her and she’d be arrested for the murders of her band mates. Reader of course ends up at the same town as Doomhead.

Content Warnings: Mentions of canon-typical violence, Blasphemy Fetish(of course), Implied sex

Fake Priest!Doomhead X Survivor!Reader Imagines

Blasphemy Kink

• This was the kind of conclusion to The Yearly Festivities he hated most; wholly unsatisfying without so much as a glimpse of the last target’s face. No fun when they’re too good at hiding.

• To top it all off, this of course meant he had to go on the move again; after all, he hadn’t seen them, but he’d bet the sneaky little rat wouldn’t forget the sight of him. Probably went straight to a Police Sketch Artist...he had to reinvent himself if he wanted to keep doing what he does best...go someplace no one would ever expect.

• He was wrong though. You, the Sole Survivor of that year’s game of “31”, didn’t go to the Police...you didn’t go to anyone. Who would believe you? At best you’d be institutionalized for your “Delusions”, at worst...well, you’d be damned if you were going to give that pompous shitdick judge the opportunity to look you in the eye and charge you with the murder of your band mates.

• It wouldn’t be too big a leap; it was no secret that you’d been at each others’ throats for months now. No one would care enough about a group of small-time musicians to actually care about the truth.

• No, it was best that you “died” with them. Getting a fake ID was easy enough, now you just had to find a new place to start over...

• When you finally felt like you were far enough from home that no one would recognize you, you stopped at a town off the highway...way way out in the middle of nowhere.

• The people seemed friendly, but not friendly enough to bother asking questions, and that suited you fine. It wasn’t exactly what you were used to, but that’s kind of the point isn’t it? This little haystack hick town would be the absolute last place anyone would expect to find you...if anyone bothered to look in the first place.

• You weren’t exactly the most religious, but in small towns like these churches tend to have their grubby little hands on just about every aspect of life; you figured they’d be your best shot at finding someone to point you in the right direction as far as a job goes-shit, maybe they could help you into some cheap housing. You really weren’t picky at this point; hard to feel safe sleeping in your van after Satan’s little Halloween Party.

• Besides, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d eaten; and Sunday Morning Services tend to conclude with coffee and doughnuts, so it was unlikely to be a total bust.

• It was unseasonably warm, so you were able to slip near silently into the building through the propped-open door; settling neatly into a pew in the back row where it would be easy enough to wait out the God Talk.

• You had intended on ignoring the sermon, maybe even sneaking a little nap, but the Priest’s voice carried through the echoing halls with a flourish reserved for men who love to hear themselves talk.

• He was more performing than preaching, the rhythm of his voice doing absolutely nothing to lessen the lewd undertones of Solomon’s “Song of Songs”. You had heard it plenty of times when you were made to attend church as a child, and if it was genuinely written about Capital-G God like the Priests say, then God had a seriously nice set of tits.

• You took notice of the old ladies in the front row nodding along; no doubt this was the highlight of their day...not that anyone wants to admit to being hot for the Preacher.

• When it came time to take communion, you fell in line with the rest of the community, receiving a few sideways glances. Not that you really faulted them for it, you were after all, a bedraggled stranger.

• When you get close enough to the alter to really see the Priest your heartbeat quickens; something deep and primal within you begs you to tuck tail and run, but by the time you will your legs to function it’s your turn.

• The Priest smiles at you, almost smugly, and bids you kneel at the velvet alter; you think you must be imagining the sadistic gleam in his eyes.

• You do as he asks, too deep now to decline without looking odd to the townspeople.

• You look up at him helplessly as his hand cups your face a bit too tenderly, a shameful heat pooling between your thighs when his thumb coaxes your mouth open. He tips the silver chalice to your lips just long enough to give you a taste of horribly dry wine.

• Your instinct is to recoil with a gag, remembering the awful church wine of your youth, but he doesn’t let you go, gazing down at you expectantly with the communion wafer pinched between his long fingers.

• It feels indecent the way he’s looking at you, and you can’t help but feel as though he gets off on this, the Power Imbalance of his position. You can’t help feeling like Prey under his predatory eyes, but you were never one for reverence.

• You let your tongue slip out, just a bit more than necessary; teasing if he’s hot for this, hardly noticeable if you’re wrong. You shudder as he presses the wafer to your tongue, holding it there a bit longer than he has to while his eyes threaten to drown your own in their intensity.

• “Partake of the Body of Christ, and May his Peace fill you with Salvation,” he says as his fingers slip from your mouth.

• “Amen,” you say, according to custom, face flushed from the sultry tone of his voice.

• You gather yourself, mentally dressing yourself now that his gaze has left your form as you hurry back to the pew; your fellow churchgoers none the wiser in regards to the indecency of your exchange; perhaps you’re the one imagining things.

• Once the service is over, and your teeth are cracking the glaze on a delicious locally supplied doughnut, you feel a firm hand cup your shoulder.

• “Coming home, or passing through?”

• The Priest’s voice catches you off guard, the warm twang piercing through you and making you shiver.

• He explained that he himself was a recent arrival, and that it is a pleasure to meet someone else who plans on making this...quaint little town home.

• You can’t help but feel like he’s studying you, appraising, looking for something he won’t say out loud. “You seem awfully nervous in a House of God.”

• You admit to him that you haven’t been to church in quite some time; you only came because you need help, and you’re not sure where else to go.

• You meant material assistance; shelter, a job, but his gaze pierces you where you stand. “Yes, of course. The Church, such that it is, can aid you with those things...However, Confessional is always open for matters of the Soul.”

• You sleep in the Church that night, a cot made up for you in the room where the extra books are kept; you feel safer than you have since you escaped that Hell Hole...and yet you can’t fall asleep.

• The Priest’s words and strange nature claw at you, and you begin to wonder if maybe you should Confess; Priests are forbidden to speak of what they hear in confessional, right? You never were one for Religion; your family spoiled that for you, but you did make it out of that twisted game alive, and only a little wounded...relatively speaking...maybe there was a higher power looking after you.

• Maybe you were just lucky.

• Your chest tightens as you reach for the handle on the small wooden door; you were never claustrophobic, but after squeezing into such a tight space and waiting out the Killer Clowns for a painful three hours, you’re a bit on edge entering the tiny candle lit room.

• You apologize, unsure of what you’re even supposed to say. You know there’s specific rules to them; but like much of your childhood, those memories have been blocked out for a long time.

• “Bless Me Father, for I have Sinned.”

• His voice startles you, making your heart pound. You hadn’t honestly expected anyone to actually be sitting in the booth this late, and the whisky smoothness of his voice reminds you of your sinful thoughts during communion. You’re glad he can’t see the flush to your cheeks.

• “Bless me Father, for I have Sinned,” you repeat, trying to still your racing heart. “You...you can’t share this information with anyone, right? Whatever I say is between us?”

• “Between us and God,” he replies, almost cheekily.

• “Right,” you sigh, satisfied that this won’t come back to bite you in the ass.

• In truth, he believes you’re about to confess your lust for him, and he’s already thinking up all the ways he wants to disgrace your body in the eyes of a fairy tail god. He plans on sweet talking you, assuring you that your desires are a gift from ‘The Lord’. He wants to make you his private whore, a secret ‘between us and God’...Your actual confession hits him like a club to the chest.

• You tell him all about 31, the grizzly deaths you witnessed, how you mercy killed your band’s keyboardist after finishing off the fucker who put a chainsaw through her gut; how you skipped town, and how you’re absolutely terrified the cops wouldn’t believe you if you tried to fess up. All is silent, and for a moment you’re terrified you’ve grossly misjudged the sanctity of Confessional, and soon you’ll be locked up at the police station...

• You reach for the door handle, attempting to make your escape, skip town like you did your home, but to your surprise the door is ripped open, and the Priest forces his way inside, clicking the lock shut behind him.

• He’s too tall to stand fully in the little room, and your body is crushed against the wall, knee bent awkwardly against the wooden bench seat.

• His hand’s around your throat, his breath hot against your ear. “Well well, Sweet Eurydice, you escaped The Underworld, but it seems as though Orpheus looked back. Do you remember me?”

• Your chest aches from the torturous pounding of your heart, sheer terror enveloping your senses. You hadn’t seen much from your hiding place in 31; your glasses broken and blood dripping into your eyes, but in this moment, trapped in Confessional with the man, there’s no question as to who he is.

• You remember hearing those horrible people announce him from your hiding spot. “Doomhead,” you whisper, because that’s what they called him. You remember watching him gut your Bassist, taking his sweet time setting up a gruesome sculpture for the others to find. You also remember him going absolutely mad trying to find you after he had killed the others; and the way he threw a fit after ‘Game Over’ was called.

• “You cost me a pretty penny...see, I don’t win, I don’t get paid. The folks up top pay me a lot of scratch to do what I do best...but only if I get the job done.”

• You shudder, struggling against him to no avail. You are going to die here.

• He squeezes your neck a couple of times to get your attention, as though he had ever lost it. “Easy girl; it’s too late now, game’s over. I kill you now and all I get is a mess to deal with. I don’t need to kill you, you said it yourself you can’t go to the cops.”

• “Then what the fuck do you want from me?” You choke out.

• He catches your ear between his teeth, just a bit too roughly, and you gasp. “You were pretty bold on the Alter today,” he muses, his free hand fiddling with the button on your jeans. “I want to make you see Jesus.”

• You’re not sure whether to be disgusted with yourself or relieved that the terror you feel is giving way to your earlier lust, but you make a decision.

• Fuck it.

• Before he has a chance to react, you grab the back of his hair and yank, forcing him to look you in the eyes.

• “Bless Me Father for I am About to Sin.”

• A maniacal grin splits across his face, his fingers finding their way into your pants. “A-fucking-Men.”

I’m thinking about actually writing this out into at least a One Shot fic (full smut; not ending where the Imagine ended); let me know if you(or anyone) are interested in a full fic!

[quirklessidiot]

Title: pretty eyes [short story] Pairing: Gojo Satoru x gn!reader [soulmate au; takes place eight years before the yuuji and sukuna fusion] Genre: josei, romance, fluff, comedy, and your normal tragic angst!

Summary: in which the right eye is mine and the left eye is yours and when we meet for the first time, you see your own eyes staring back at you. Warnings: language, blood, minor manga spoilers, mild ooc gojo and death

Notes:  can we all just sit down admire satoru? Like the eyes man, the attitude omg... Ah im so sorry in advance  if hes ooc here sksksk it is my first time to write about any jjk characters and I havent fully grasped them yet despite reading the manga anyways i wont be online next week and tomorrow so i decided to publish this ahead of time. ily all and again thank you for the love and support, it does mean a lot *bows down* see you all again when i’ve got time? jskskss i fucking hate college and online classes, satoru save me please soulmate au’s [not read in any particular order nor are they connected, they just share the same trope]  Pretty eyes [gojo vers.] ||  lasting blues [toji vers]

tragic soulmate au series || taglist 

“Pretty.” were the very first words you uttered in complete awe as you saw yourself in the mirror and no, this wasn’t directed to your physical appearance. It was directed to your left eye, the eye of your soulmate.

Contrasting to your normal boring color on the right, your soulmate’s eyes were ethereal and unreal. How could someone have such pretty eyes? It was completely surreal at that point that you refused to believe that someone with these eyes were actually human.

You placed one hand and gently caressed the left side of your face where the pretty eye rested, “You must be an angel.” you muttered, “Only angels have pretty eyes.”

Thus      like every child     you gave your soulmate a nickname, ‘pretty angel’  and every night before you slept, you’d wonder out loud how your pretty angel was doing, if they were nearby, or anything like that. You wonder what type of food they like, do they like to leave the window open for a cool wind or do they like their chocolate hot or iced.

Yet as you grew older, the pretty angel faded out into your thoughts. The pretty idea of soulmates and love disappeared like the story books you read as a child. The pretty blue eyes on your left is forgotten as life takes a toll on you.

They say death was inevitable, when your mother died in middle school, you watch as your father’s left eye turn to your mother’s color. You watched as he clenched her hand, like it was some last resort of plea. You watched him cry as he passed by the mirrors and you wondered, would it hurt like that too?

It baffles you how beautiful and cruel the soulmate system was.

How every time your father would stare at his own reflection, his left eye would be nothing but a reminder of your dead mother.

You let out a second meek cough in the quiet bookstore that night, the sounds of the car passing by were nothing but quiet noise to you as you immerse yourself in the literature book you were reading, your students would surely love this one.You let out another cough as you turn around to find a small space to read since standing for too long made you tired too quickly. 

You’re too enchanted by the words of the author that you don’t even notice the rather tall man in front of you.

You look up, ready to give a quiet apology but stop short when you notice how ethereal the stranger looked. Albeit he wore a pair of weird Lennon shades at this time of night, he reminded you very much of an angel with his snow white hair.

You don’t even notice how your left eye is returning back to it’s normal color, the stranger does though and it surely was odd to see his eyes on a stranger.

“Well,” the stranger has a shit-eating grin decorating his handsome features, he definitely looked like trouble for sure, “This is unexpected.”

He lowers his shades and your eyes immediately widen as you suddenly cup the left side of your face, you’d recognize those unique eyes anywhere, after all, you had those on your left eye since you were born, “Y-You.” you muttered, the shock momentarily eating you up.

“Yeah, me.” He grins, loving the sudden attention, “Wow, I was expecting something like fireworks or flowers to appear.” He suddenly teased, bending down to your level.

Now that you notice it, he was very, very tall.

“I…” You blink, trying to gain your composure, “Wow…”

“Did I pass your expectations?” it’s been a few minutes since you started talking and all he has been doing is teasing you. 

“You do look like an angel.” You complimented and his eyes widened at the rather out-of-place compliment, “Your eyes are very pretty, thanks for letting me borrow them for twenty-two years.”

Gojo Satoru thought he had the upper-hand, after all, you looked quite meek but when you said those compliments, he was sure that you were going to be the teasing one in this whole-soulmate thing.

So he tries to one up you.

“I’m Satoru Gojo but you can call me tonight.” He grinned, trying to tease you once again, the corny pick up line sounds suave but your blank expression says otherwise.

“I’m Y/N L/N and  think I should call you in the morning, it is quite late right now and I still have classes at eight am.” You mumbled, looking down at your watch, “How about you just walk me home, then?”

“Okay.” Satoru immediately raises his hands, signaling that he was giving up, “First off, you should be more hyper aware that I may be a serial killer.”

“Are you?”

“What?”

“Are you a serial killer?” you repeat, “That would be awfully disappointing if my soulmate was one since I’d immediately give you up on the police. I’m not interested in being in a Bonnie and Clyde type of thing and I think it’s too early for me to die.”

“You’re very upfront about these sorts of things.”

“Well, you’re very teasing for someone who just met their soulmate a few minutes ago.” you shrug, “So, are you going to walk me home or not?”

“Ah, bossy too. I love the attitude already.”

“We’re spending our whole lives together. You might as well get used to it.”

You’d think the idea of soulmates would scare you after the firsthand experience with your parents but curiosity always got the best of you and the white-haired man proved that maybe it would be different this time.

Throughout the few months you’ve spent with him, You’ve noticed that Gojo Satoru and you may be alike in some ways but in most ways, he was different. 

First, he was enigmatic. You’ve known the man for a couple of months now and you’ve been going out on dates but you don’t know much about him except that like you, he’s a teacher at a good school and he tends to be conceited when he talks about his personal skills as a teacher.

“...What are you doing?” Satoru asked, peeking from behind your shoulder as you type in the grades of your student for your class.

“I’m grading my students.” You muttered, it was after dinner at your place and he was lazing around your place, the sound of faint jazz music could be heard throughout your small space and the wafting smell of freshly baked brownies filled the room, “Aren’t you supposed to be doing something since you're a teacher?”

Satoru quirks a brow as if you had said something odd then it seemed like realization had dawn upon him at that moment.

“Ah, I’m not doing much since my students are on break.”

“Didn’t you say that last time?”

Silence filled the room and Satoru breaks it off with his very famous ‘heh’ that made you inwardly roll your eyes and chunk the pillow that you’ve been hugging towards his direction, “Stop slacking off, you’re a teacher.” You scold him mildly, followed by a small cough.

“Ah, Y/N-chan. You’re so mean to me,” He frowned, handing you the mug filled with water, “...No fair.”

“You're a teacher and you’re slacking off.” You deadpanned, ignoring his sly ways of trying to get you in his arms, “How is that even fair?”

“My students can handle themselves so well that I don’t need to babysit them.” He hmphed,  arms crossed and head held up high in a rather arrogant manner. You could only only scoff back a reply at his rather haughty attitude but you’ve gotten used to it to the point where you just roll your eyes.

“You’re a very bad teacher, Satoru.” 

“Hey, I am considered one of the best and it’s an honor-”

You clicked your tongue and just pinched his cheek in reply to get him to stop drawling on about his achievements. You wondered if you dated a man child or something.

Second, despite his teasing nature and good looks, he’s a rather shy bean and has some insecurities about it too, maybe it was because there were moments where you couldn’t really understand your soulmate and his puzzling life. He didn’t tell and you didn’t want to pry because you technically both had your whole life to get around that subject.

Luckily, you seem to have found a remedy for moments like that.

“Satoru…” You called out to your soulmate who was staring at the nutrition content of the wafers on his hand, “Satoru!” 

“Oh, sorry. What were you talking about?” he finally snapped out of his daze and turned to you who was standing there, hand on your hip. The crispy wafers on his hand are long forgotten. 

Your soulmate is good looking, alright. If anyone were to pass by him they wouldn’t see the minor zilch of worry in his eyes.

“Are you alright?” You ask, walking closer to him, completely serious.

“...You aren’t going to leave me, right?” 

You raise a brow at the sudden question, wasn’t he too young to have some mid-life crisis? Was this because of the soulmate movie you watched late last night about the soulmate leaving their other half to rebel against the system and because of his partner’s family?

“Why would I leave you?”

He blinks once, then twice, the only sound that could be heard was the familiar music playing throughout the grocery store, it was as if no one was there during the mid-day. Satoru proceeds to look away, “I don’t know. What if you realize that you don’t like me as your soulmate and you followed what the dude did in the movie?” he started to mumble, mouth pressed on a straight line.

“Ah, the whole rich in-laws.” you blinked, “Don’t tell me you’re a son of some huge clan in japan that’s loaded and I’m going to be a disgrace to your family name or something?”

It came out as a joke at first, it really did and you were going to laugh but when you notice the straight face he has on, you realize it was anything but a joke.

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, Oh.” 

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one asking that question then?”

“What?” He almost half-yelled, eyes wide behind his usual shades that he seemed to wear a lot, “That doesn’t make sense!”

“Neither does your question, Satoru.” You frowned, massaging your temples, “I should be the one asking you that, are you going to leave me?”

“Of course not.” He sputters out.

“Then there goes my answer too.” You replied, huffing out as you grab the sweet wafers on his hand to put into the cart, “You’re very weird.”

“You’re weird.”

“No, you are.”

“You seriously asked me if I’d leave you because of your rich family in the middle of the day.” You deadpanned, inching closer to him to the point where your lips are brushing against his.

“This is unfair.” He huffed, suddenly turning red, “You’re attacking me in broad daylight.”

“Oh dear.” Your beguiling eyes, enjoying his rather embarrassed state, “This isn’t attacking, Satoru.”

Then you closed the distance between you two, his eyes seemed to widen behind his shades at your forward approach, clearly you guys never did PDA. You took this as an opportunity to lick his lower lip so you could slip your tongue in and as he starts getting into it and placing his hand to cup your ass, you pull away with a big smile on your lips, “That’s attacking.” you grinned.

Satoru seemed to have regained his senses quickly after that rather heated public make-out session, he placed his hand on top of his mouth and feigned embarrassment, “My, My, I didn’t think you’d enjoy those types of things in public.” he was back to his normal teasing self.

Well, that seemed to have worked very well.

“Mhm,” 

Yet unknown to you those thoughts still lingered in his head, it wasn’t just his family that he was worried about, it was also regarding his job as a jujutsu sorcerer       something he has yet to mention, he’s not even sure if you’d believe him       it’s a normal occurrence for people like him to die in this occupation and he’s scared that one day, you’ll see your left eye turning back to his eye color with no valid explanation.

Not only that but the amount of people who’d go after you to get to him, he clenched on the shopping cart tightly

“I’m tired.” You cut his thoughts short and Satoru turns to you, unlike him, you weren’t physically active so you tire easily, even joking around that you were a granny in a child’s body, “Can we sit down after this and get some gyudon?”

“Sure Y/N.” he grins, giving you a one-arm hug and kissing your temple.

Third, he’s terrible with kids, period, no questions asked. 

Your eyes narrowed to slits as he brought in one of his students named Megumi, the boy is quiet and compared to your giant and teasing soulmate, he’s serious. In fact he was more serious than the tiny pinky of the white-haired man.

“...Are you kidnapping a third grader?”

“He’s one of my students.”

“You don’t even know the first thing of looking after kids.” You pointed out, “And didn’t you mention that you teach high school students?”

“Well,” he drawled on, “It’s kind of a long story but he’s technically a genius.”

You let out a stifling sigh, “You’re impossible.” you mutter, bending down to the small boy’s level, “Would you like something to eat in compensation for him annoying you?”

The boy nods mutely.

“I wasn’t annoying him!” He corrects.

“He looks very annoyed standing next to you.”

“That’s literally what he looks like!”

You roll your eyes in reply and turn to the young boy, handing him a pastry that you had brought earlier. You  watched Megumi eat his pastry in front of the television that played some child-friendly show as you let out a soft cough and pour yourself some water

“Are you alright?” Satoru asks, resting his head on your shoulders.

“Yeah,” You replied, “Why’d you ask?”

“You’re looking quite pale these days.”

“Maybe it’s the allergy season, already.”  you nonchalantly replied, taking another gulp of water, “You’re terrible with kids, by the way.”

“That’s why I’m a high school teacher, Y/N.”

This connects you to your fourth observation, he’s nonchalant and easy going but he harbors a rather deep worry for you to the point where you wonder if he was really your soulmate or your mother incarnate. Three years into the whole soulmate thing with him, you still couldn’t help but think that he’s doting nature was quite adorable.

You feel like you’re coming down with a cold these days, your head has been throbbing and your cough is worsening. Satoru’s eyes are filled with nothing but worry as he handed you some medication. Your soulmate was now a mother hen and if it were different circumstances, you’d laugh it off.

“We should go to the doctor.” He nagged you once again.

“I’m literally going to sleep it off.” You hoarsely replied, “I’ll be fine, Satoru.”

“You literally sound like you smoked a pack with your voice, are you sure?”

“I am.” You glared, “Don’t sleep-”

Before you could even finish what you were saying, he flops right next to you in the bed, “-I literally told you to not sleep next to me.” you scolded him.

“A mere cold won’t phase me.”

“I swear to god, Gojo Satoru. I’ll kick you out.” He ignores your ministrations and snuggles his head on your neck, his warm breath tickling it, “You’re impossible.”

“You love me.”

“Sadly.”

“Hey.”

“I’m kidding.” you let out a quiet chuckle, looking down at your soulmate and running your hands through his white hair, “I love you very much, you idiot.”

“Hard same.”

“Never mind, I take it back.” you giggle.

And after a rather short playful banter between you two, you find yourself sleeping and snuggling on his long limbs. You think all is well, you really do. That was until you wake up later at three am in the morning with a loud coughing fit. Satoru immediately sits upright and opens your nightlight but what he sees next, scares him more than the curses he has ever encountered.

Your sheets are now stained in blood from the coughing fit that had just happened and you're completely taken aback too, completely breathless.

“Y-Y/N…” He gulps down, quickly taking the sheets away from you, “Let’s go to the hospital now, please?”

“...L/N-san, have you been getting coughing fits before this?” the doctor asks, looking up from your chart. Satoru watches you shake your head as you clench the paws of his jacket, the doctor takes off his glasses, “How about coughs that don’t seem to go away? Getting tired too easily?”

Satoru doesn’t like where this was going, he doesn’t like where this was going at all.

“Um, just some dry coughs and I’ve always been an inactive person.” You quietly replied, contrasting to your usual bright and teasing demeanor, you looked too tired this morning and Satoru just hopes it’s because he dragged you out of bed at four am to get yourself checked asap.

“Y/N-san, has any of your family members been diagnosed with lung cancer?”

The whole room is silent and you could almost hear a pin drop, Satoru feels his knuckles suddenly turn white, “I recalled my okaasan died because of that.” You replied silently and the doctor nods feverishly.

“...Y/N-san...It pains me to say this but the reason you’ve been experiencing this is because of the tumors located in your lungs.” Satoru feels his heart drop when he hears those words, “We have to do further tests to confirm-”

“Do it.” Satoru cuts the old doctor off, his hands are visibly shaking already, he hopes that this was just a misdiagnosis, that this doctor was just a bad one or better yet whatever excuse his mind could make up at that moment, “Do all the tests needed for Y/N, please.”

Fifth, he’s very supportive towards you and your impulsive decisions. If he could join you in it, he would but you usually decide against it.

It’s another quiet night for you as you sit across from your soulmate at the dinner table. You’ve grown awfully thin and your hair was starting to fall off due to the chemoradiation, this day marked the third month since you found out that you have lung cancer just like your mother. Surgery was apparently too risky so the safest option right now was this treatment. 

You don’t deny the anxiety eating you up every day, specifically the fear of death, you’re even more worried for Satoru since not only had he been paying for your treatment but he had opt to take care of you, saying that his job would be fine without him since you were going to get better soon anyways.

“Would you still love me if I shaved my hair?” You asked, your voice still quite hoarse.

“You kidding me? I’d still love you even if you turned into a roach.”

You immediately crinkle your nose in disgust, “That’s disgusting.”

“Honest reply.”

Truthfully, the man had been your rock these past three months. You knew how hard it was for him to be happy around you, how he had put on a brave front and remained positive saying that this was just going to be a rough couple of months and you’d be back in no time despite the bleak outlook.

It kept you sane amongst the tragedy.

“I wanna shave my hair.”

“Like right now?”

You nod, “Can we use your electric razor?”

“You want me.” he points to himself, “To cut your hair?”

“I wouldn’t want anyone else to do it.” You grinned.

And that’s how you ended up in your bathroom after dinner, Satoru’s shades on the side and his concentration directly on your scalp. You had literally told him that he just needed to do it the same way as he shaved his beard but he was still scared. Apparently, he had never shaved anyone’s hair before.

“...Okay, Y/N. Here goes…” He proclaimed, switching the razor on. As bits and pieces of your hair fall to the ground, you feel your cheeks getting wet and your shoulders tense, Satoru is quick to notice the switch of emotion and immediately turns the razor off before bending down in front of you, “Woah, woah… Y/N….”

“I-I…” Your lips are quivering as the tears fall faster when you see his pretty eyes staring back at yours, you try to let out a laugh but instead it comes out as a choke sob, “Sorry, this is stupid. I’m literally crying over fucking hair.”

“No, of course not…” He replies, enveloping you in a hug, “Of course not.”

Satoru feels you start to shake in his arms and he knows he should keep his emotions in check, he’s a sorcerer for crying out loud but seeing you break down for the first time in three months had him shaking too, you didn’t deserve all this, fuck, you didn’t deserve any of this at all!

“Would you like me to shave my hair so you’d feel a bit better?” he asks. After recovering from your breakdown, you had asked him to continue shaving your hair because you might as well be done with it.

“Please don’t.” You reply, wiping your tears away, “We’d look like eggs.”

“Cute eggs, you mean.” He corrects, teasing you and trying to cheer you up, this was all he could do and he hates it. 

He really hates it.

What good was the title of being the strongest when he couldn’t save you from all of this?

Lastly, if you hadn’t highlighted it enough. He has pretty eyes, contrasting to your dull and boring ones, you always loved how different his eyes are. Sometimes you wondered why he dared to hide them behind his crappy and overused Lennon shades.

“Can I see them?” 

Your room is dimly lit as Satoru sleeps next to you on the hospital bed, you were growing weaker and frailer by the day and you could see the toll it took on your soulmate. You were heavily reminded of your father who was sitting right next to your mother on her deathbed.

“See what?” He yawned.

“Your eyes.”

“You’re awfully in love with them, huh?” 

“I’ve always been in love with them from the moment I saw it in the mirror.”

Silence envelopes the room with your statement and as requested, he takes the shades off and now you’re greeted by the most beautiful blue eyes that you love to look at in the reflection since you were a child, “Pretty.” You muttered, raising your frail hands slowly to cup his face, “Pretty eyes.”

Satoru takes in a deep breath as he places his hand on top of yours, the silence is heavy. You both know what’s about to come in the next few days, you’re lucky if you even last a night. Yet he doesn’t want to talk about it, he shuts the topic off quickly when you try to even raise it.

“Yeah.” he mumbles, staring at you, “Pretty.”

You let out a quiet laugh, “I doubt it, I’m anything but pretty now.” your voice hoarse, making him lightly squeeze your hands, “Will you be bringing Megumi tomorrow?”

“Yeah, the brat said he saved enough money to get you your favorite pastry.”

“That’s good.” you blinked, “I’m tired.”

Satoru feels his shoulder tense at your words, they were so plain yet at the same time so heavy, “Should I call the doctor?” he asks. You shake your head and just snuggle on his chest.

“No,” You mumbled, inhaling his scent and basking on his presence, “I want your warmth next to me.”

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“You know, you’ve always had prettier eyes.”

Yet you don’t reply and he feels your grip on his sweater lessen, he doesn’t even need to see his reflection to know that his left eye has returned back to your (e/c) ones.

taglist [if crossed out, it means you aren’t available for tags!]

@airybnb​ ;  @hcn421​ ;  @shinhiromi​

[technowoah]

thinking about angst prompt 'you're right. you're useless' with c!jschlatt where all reader does is try to help him and they eventually get to a breaking point because all they do it give and give and give and get nothing in return so schlatt just turns around and scares the fuck out of them :D

Have a Heart

You end up helping Schlatt after hating his guts. And even though you give every thing to your new president he dosent seem to fucking care

- c!schlatt x reader

- gender neutral reader!

- prompt: 25) "You're right. You are useless" (angst list)

⚠︎: swearing, drinking, smoking, angst, mentions of vomit, c!dream makes an appearance 🤭 not proofread

An// I LOVE THIS SCENARIO UGHH! THANKS FOR REQUESTING AS WELL BUB! I HOPE YOU ENJOY!

"Where's my fucking decree at?!"

"It's in my room Schlatt, please stop yelling." You tried to calm the ram-man down by talking calmer than him, but it only seemed to rile him up more.

"In your room?! Sounds like another fucking excuse that you didn't even finish them." Schlatt waved around his hands which one of them contained a lit cigarette in them. "Look at Tubbo he re-wrote one of my decrees before the festival, which is tomorrow may I add, and gave it to me. You havent even done anything I asked you." He scoffed.

You closed your eyes and held back a huge eye roll. You had done everything that Schlatt asked you to do, the decree was actually sitting on your desk in your room. This has been happening ever since Schlatt became president. He was more nicer, well as nice as Schlatt can get, but now he's been drinking like a moster and it never fails that he shows up to an important meeting drunk and makes you and Tubbo do all the work while Quackity and George are running free doing God knows what.

You had been loyal to Schlatt even when you didn't want to be, you had swallowed your pride along time ago. Every. Single. Task you do. And Every. Single. Time you get more put down that you already do.

Your head was hung low while he still spoke. "Hey! Were you listening to me shithead?! I need those papers by tonight!" Schlatt dug his finger into your chest pushing you back a little.

"Also get me my beer and bring it to the meeting room because apparently that's all you're good for." He finally left the long hallway, stumbling a bit as he walked.

You let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding until you saw him walk away. You walked away to find Schlatg that beer and try to put on a smile for the meeting you are currently dreading. Quickly you stopped by your room to grab the stack of paper Schlatt was yelling about earlier and grabbed a beer from a random room. Schlatt always has alcohol and cigarettes in every room just in case he needs one.

Dragging your feet along the marble floored hallways you mad your way to the meeting room. You didn't want to get there first or even last so your mind switched up from speed walking to continuing your slow pace. You started to walk faster when you heard footsteps behind you.

"Hey!"

You turned around to see Tubbo waving behind you. You stopped in your pursuit to greet your friend.

"Hey Tubbo!"

"Going to the meeting I see." He smiled.

"Sadly yes." You sighed. "I already got yelled at twice today so-"

"Hey! It's better than three!"

"Tubbo!"

"Im sorry! But am I wrong?" Tubbo laughed a little.

"Well I wish it was zero. I give everything to that bastard and I get nothing." You breathed out.

"Really?! I get a lot of-" Tubbo stopped talking after the shock on your face was prominent. "You know what nevermind!" He waved off.

"Of course he would favor you." You walked off keeping a brisk pace with Tubbo apologizing for Schlatt's favoritism right behind you.

Once you reached the door to the meeting room you slowly opened the door to be greeted with, once again, a drunken president and his right hand man looking smug as ever when he had no right to be.

Schlatt's cabinet was a mess. Quackity was only the vice president because he partnered with Schlatt and George became, well, the vice president to the vice president. George was barely around anyways. Then Tubbo and you came from L'Manburg, hating Schlatt's guts at firsy you two learned to be okay with the treatment. And while apparently, Tubbo had better treatment than you, you still gave that president everything you had.

Everything you worked for was for that drunken man sitting at the head of the table. You basically devoted your life to him, writing decrees that represents Schlatts policies because "you dare not write something Wilbur would". You had pulled him from sleeping at his desk at nights, cleaned up his spilled wine and beer, picked up cigarettes from the clean marble floors. He pushed you around and you let it happen too, some people woukd say you've become weak and they were sadly right.

"Aye! Look who it is!" Schlatt slurred his words together. "There's my beer!"

"And your decrees!" You plopped the papers down on the desk as he snatched the beer bottle out of your hand.

"You have an attitude with me?" Schlatt asked quickly.

"No! No why?"

"'Cause you just threw my decrees on the table like they are some sort of scrap." Schlatt tried to find the right words. "Some sort of shit like its not important! Fuckin' have some nerve huh?"

You didn't respond and went to go sit by Tubbo across from Quackity. Schlatt apparently noticed and took it upon himself to say something.

"Asshole! You gonna respond to me?! I am your president!"

You fought the urge to snap back at him so you bit your lip as he continues to yell and make everyone in the room uncomfortable, even Quackity.

"Dammit!" Schlatt slammed the table. "Fuck you! I could kill you! I have so much power over you! I can control everyone in this damned kingdom that I'm second best to! This kingdom was owned by a tyrant! I saved all of you! And all you have to do is respond!"

He stood up during half of his breakdown, but you didn't know when. You could hear every single word he said, but your eyes were threatening to spill tears and you could feel Tubbo's hand grab yours underneath the table.

Schlatt huffed smoothed put his suit and sat back down in his chair.

"So! We're here for the festival."

------------------------

You softly closed your bedroom door not wanting to make more drama by slamming it. This whole week you held in your emotions and tears, but today was the breaking point for you. Your back slid down the door and you started crying, and crying. There was no need to try and deafen your sobs, because you couldn't even if you tried.

Your mind kept reminding you of every single event if today.

First. Tubbo didnt tell you he was still in contact with the former citizens of L'Manburg, and the only way you found out was that today at the festival you saw them and you asked Tubbo. He finally told you with his head hung low as you two stood on the podium. You felt betrayed.

Second. Schlatt gave you an extremely hard time making sure everything was intact for today's festivities. You were stressed out of your mind.

Third. The festival went down hill hard and fast. So fast everything seemed like a blur. Tubbo gave his speech, really fidgety may you add, and then Schlatt and Quackity began trapping him in cement, you tried stopping him, but you were pushed away multiple times. You knew who Technoblade was, so when you heard Schlatt call him up to the podium you started to freak out. Your heart started to pound out of your chest when he brought out an explosive crossbow and pointed it right at Tubbo's chest.

The next thing you know a huge, bright, colorful explosion went off and with you on the podium with Tubbo's murderer sparks flew and hit you, Schlatt and Quackity making all of you have some sort of burn marks. Tubbo was gone, soon to be revived again for his last life on this earth, but seeing him die like that was the breaking point for you.

You stayed on the ground with your knees to your chest sobbing loudly. It was too much for you. Your lungs felt like they had no air inside of them, and your heart felt like a million weights were hung on it. You kept crying until you heard a harsh knock on the door, that felt like they were trying to break down the door than get someone's attention.

"Stop sobbing so damn loud!" Of course it was Schlatt you rolled your eyes and stayed on the floor.

"Leave me alone!" You cried out.

"Damn you sound like you're in pain huh?" You heard him from the other side of the door.

It was silent until the door was forced open and you were pushed with the door on your side. You sat up again to see Schlatt, who was out of breath, above you and had another beer bottle in hand.

"Why did you open ny door?" You asked softly.

"Why didn't you let me in?"

"Cause you didnt ask."

"Excuse me!?" Schlatt grew angry.

"You heard me." You stood up facing the taller man with horns. He was scary, but somehow you got the confidence today.

"I dont think you know who you're talking to shithead!" Schlatt got closer, but this time you stood your ground.

"Im talking to a drunken, egotistical, ram-man who let someone kill the only person I had left!" You yelled in his face while tears fell on your cheeks.

"You do got some nerve! I saved you!" He turned around, his back facing you.

"You made my life hell!" You yelled at him. "You- you made my life worse! You made me feel like I have no purpose, but to serve you and your ragtag cabinet! You made me feel like a useless sack of shit, you-!"

"YOU'RE RIGHT! YOU ARE USELESS!" Schlatt quickly turned around his faced filled with pure anger and his eyes bloodshot. He was breathing heavily and all the confidence left your body as soon as he stumbled towards you.

"You're fucking useless! You're even worse than Tubbo and he was working against me!" Schlatt then let out a strained stream and smashed his bottle on the floor letting the left over alcohol spill onto the floor.

"Do me a favor and leave, go. I dont need you! I dont need this damned place given to me by chance! By a fucking vice president that dosent even do his damn job! I dont need you! You! You and those bastards ruined everything!" Schlatt yelled and then rushed out of the room while holding his mouth.

You followed him quickly into the hallway and watched as he stumbled into the nearest bathroom to throw up the alcohol consumption of today. The tears kept coming as you ran down the hallway hoping that you can get as far away from these ivory buildings as your feet can take you.

----------------------

Your feet hung off the edge of the prime path and underneath there was a small river. You had stared at the water running for about ten minutes since you got there. You noticed immediately when you set foot on the prime path that you had no where else to go except for pogtopia you learned about.

You sighed tilting your head up towards the night sky.

"Lonely?" A voice asked next to you.

You turned your head and saw the well known man dressed in green. Dream had his mask on, as usual, but hood was down letting his blonde hair show.

"Yeah actually." You responded not looking at him.

"I know what happened at the festival."

"Everyone does." You scoffed.

"What happened with Schlatt?" He asked and you turned your head with a confused look on your face. "Dont think I don't know anything that goes on around here."

"I don't know how you found out, but long story short I'm not allowed back there. I dont wanna go back there." You said while standing up facing the man.

"I have someone that can give you a place to stay. If you want to take the offer. Also I wanted to check up on you. You were so close to Tubbo and its hard to lose a friend." Dream spoke softly, but you could still hear him loud and clear even through the mask.

"Thank you. I would want to take the offer for a place to stay." You airly laughed. "I dont want to see Schlatt or Quackity again."

Dream chuckled while giving you a paper with an adress on it before getting ready to leave.

"Don't worry. He'll be dead soon." Dream said before turning around and walking down the prime path.

You should've stayed.

Taglist(s)

MCYT Imagines: @annshit @bobaducky @malfoysslutt @egorldevi