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livelaughlovesubs · 13 hours

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Just some brainrot scraps for Fyodor ღゝ◡╹ )ノ♡ (idk if this is cnc or not so I’ll just say it here just in case)

Imagine corrupting angelic Fyodor. Even though he’s an angel, your guardian angel at that, he’s quite stuck up since he thinks that he’s better than a human sinner like you . From the parties to the one night stands you have he swears that you’re driving him insane! One day he had enough of your antics and decided to disguise himself as a normal human and attended another one of the parties you were invited (this was the eighth party this month alone for fuck’s sake!) He swears that he’ll make you see the light of god and make you change your ways tonight, that’s until he finds himself in bed with you as you plow yourself deep into his ass. He tries whining out how this was dirty and how you shouldn’t have sex before marriage but the feeling of being manhandled in such a way made all his words that came out of his mouth unintelligible. His mind attempts to fight back and keeping himself pure but the pleasure was too overwhelming. By the time he had his third orgasm of the night, he mind was so clouded by lust that he completely forgot about his duties as an angel, his wings turning a dark grey as he falls further from god. In the morning you find yourself trapped in bed with a sweaty, clingy and needy fallen angel, his wings completely tainted black as he wraps himself tighter around you. Maybe it was worth it for some of your dick <33

(I feel a bit rusty when it come to writing so hopefully it isn’t too bad kuhuhuhu (┳Д┳))

- 🍮

Nuuu it’s alright haha. I just love your ideas 🍮 anon, and I love angels. Honestly, when you first proposed incubus fyodor I thought: why not angel? Cuz it kinda fit better BUT FYODOR AS A TOTALL SLUT IS ALSO GREAT KEKEKE

Dom!reader x sub!Angel!Fyodor

Warning: heavy on hierophilia, pegging (can be read as a dick), virgin fyodor, hair pulling, overstimulation, sub-space, dubcon, corruption kink, manhandling, no prep, save word (not used), dacryphilia, objectification, degrading, forced orgasm

Edit: I got carried away

He really wanted to do his job well, seriously. Being a good angel who carry out his lords orders with diligence, never lazing around and protecting you with all his might. But it’s so difficult to like you, to like someone who’s depraved of god’s blessing like this. It must be god’s trial for him, otherwise he can’t explain why someone as great as him got paired up with you. You are basically the incarnation of sin itself! It’s one thing not to stay pure, but to indulge in pleasure every week, multiple times? That’s beyond acceptable!

How despicable your actions were, they were totally against the will of the lord. Were it even possible for someone to be lead astray from the right path so much? Partying so much, drinking, playing and doing satans work… There is no way the pleasure of the flesh would be worth that. Fyodor really couldn’t understand your ways, not like he ever tried to anyway. Instead, since this was a trial given by him by god himself, he planned on giving it his all. To get you to change your vulgar behaviour, he’ll need you to find it repulsive too. Maybe if he criticised and embarrassed you during one of your outings, you’ll be too scared to attend another one? That would be worth a try, no?

With that being said, the angel hid his beautiful pure white wings and descended upon the human realm just for you, to help you see the light and powers of god. Of course he wore clothes that didn’t show any skin, as well as hanging a cross around his neck to display his faith. Today you were going to a bar once again, who would have guessed. Fyodor was at the bar counter, looking for you all over this dirty establishment. At the same time he observed the other humans who were present. Dancing, alcohol, drugs and lust. This place was beyond saving, the people as well. He hoped he wouldn’t need to enter this place ever again.

Finally, after a long wait, he found you. Dressed in revealing clothes, smirking from ear to ear. Even if you were under the spell of the devil, fyodor had to admit that you were pretty good looking. He immediately made his way over to you, smiling, to appear friendly. It surprised you a little, that someone was heading your way without beating around the bush. The angel who was now in front of you said, “I have something to say to you, can we go to somewhere more private?” Stunned but intrigued, you agreed to his request. He looked cute after all, you wondered what he was hiding under these layers of clothing, perhaps some dirty secrets?

He really didn’t plan for this to happen, seriously. All he wanted was to talk to you, and maybe pressure or manipulate you a little. Though you seemed amused by the whole situation? Why even? Then you proposed for the two of you to go to a hotel to have an even more private talk. At first he was sceptical, but then he thought it might be your way to initiate your wish for a better environment, because you noticed how the club is a filthy place. Of course the boy obliged, yet as soon as he stepped into the room, you pushed him and pinned him to the bed.

“Wa-what..!?” He sounded shocked, absolutely confused even. His face was pressed into the pillow by your hand which was on the back of his head, your other hand appears to be on his waist. “Oh cutie, no need to play naive now, there is a reason why you came up to me no?” You’d tease while getting rid of his pants, admiring his awfully slim waist. My my, he was hiding some treasures underneath his sweater after all.

Yes, he came up to you for a reason, but not for this reason!

“No! This is dirty- you.. we shouldn’t… just let me go- ahhhH?!” Fyodor tried to reason with you, until he noticed how his shirt got yanked off. In less than a minute he was butt naked already, how shameful this was. His body wasn’t something for your eyes to see, heck, no one but god should be allowed to see him like this! Unless you two were married, that is, but it was clearly not the case here. Tears were collecting in the corners of his eyes as he gazed back at you, seeing you all prepared and ready for the deed. Your dick was already covered in lube as you lined it up against his sweet little hole, rubbing it between his asscheeks to let him have a pretty good guess on how big the thing was. Oh and how he shivered, shaking as fear and.. something hot filled his senses.

Before he got to say no a second time, you already shoved the tip in, causing him to throw his head back and grip the sheets like his life depended on it. “AaAAAhHHh..!! It hu-hurts..!” He could have spread his wings and shoved you away, though due to some unknown reasons, he didn’t. Staying put like a good and obedient birdy, hiding his face in the pillow as you slowly bottomed out inside him. “MhmMN..! Ooh! To-too deep..<3!” Fyodor would whine and complain about your size, this was his first time after all! You didn’t even prepare him… did you think he was some common, cheap and loose prostitute?

“Fuck, you are damn tight huh, you doing alright over there?” You leaned down and yanked on his hair, causing him to arch his back further. Then you groaned that into his ear, watching him quiver in response. “Uhm-aaHHhnnGhm! I- mHMm!” Poor boy can’t even form a single cohered sentence at this point, too preoccupied with the feeling of your cock inside him. How it stretched him apart, as well as how his walls pulsed and clenched around it. Oh lord.. this was too much for his innocent body to comprehend. “Haaah.. say red if it gets too much, alright? Otherwise I’ll start moving.” You warned him after he didn’t give you an answer. “Ah-no- wait, unngHh!” The moment you started moving, he started sobbing uncontrollably and praying to god. Was this really going to be how his chastity gets ruined? How he loses his innocence? By someone like you?

Dear lord, our father, please pardon him, for his pathetic, unholy and defiled form. He must look so perverted right now. Dick leaking precum everywhere as his bottom got pounded by you mercilessly. You whispered some impure words into his mouth as you did that, asking him if he’s enjoying it or demanding him to degrade himself. Each time he’d refuse and call this sinful, ungodly, and wrong as well as crying even louder. At one point the poor baby was holding onto the cross hanging around his neck with both hands, trying his best to clench onto the last bits of dignity he had as an angel.

It got increasingly harder with every trust, it made him see stars and caused his entire body to twitch like a sinner. Slowly, he could feel himself crumbling and succumb to the devil’s temptation. More pleads escaped his throat, though not even he knew for whom it was or what purpose it served. All he could think about was how sorry he was for failing his duties, and for loving every second he spend with you <3

After his third forced orgasm, the angel- if you can still call him that considering how fallen he was, got so overstimulated and fucked out of it that he completely lost himself to the bliss and ecstasy. Lust clouded and pestered his mind like some spell, it wouldn’t leave him alone. You just felt so damn good, and he adored how your length spread his insides every time you shoved it deep inside him. His own shameful body fluids were spread around the bed, dripping down his thighs, causing the entire scene to look even more erotic. Not to mention the sounds he made….

Since you’ve been fucking him for so long, even you were out of breath. But him? Oh no, he couldn’t stop. He was addicted, hypnotised, whatever you’d like to call it. This is his first time experiencing such sensations in eons, he wasn’t going to be satisfied with only three orgasms. His very first three ejaculations to be exact. You want to stop? Heck no, he’s was going to keep doing this until he exhales his last breath! He was ready to become a whore for you, your very own slut that got banned from heaven.

So the black haired boy was riding you now, bouncing up and down your dick desperately as the cross flew around with how fast he was going at it. He was drooling and melting the entire time, not a single logical thing coming out of his mouth as he blabbered something about it being too good. About how he’s sorry for getting corrupted. The little angel didn’t know, but the more he indulged in these impure pleasures, the more he fell from grace, and the more his wings darkened. The only hint he got from his deity was when the chain of his necklace broke, and his cross hit the floor. It broke into six pieces, yet he didn’t even notice. Oh what a degenerate being he has become. He was sullying gods name with his deeds..!!

At the end of it, not only him but you too were totally exhausted, so much that you both fell asleep after washing up. On the next day, you noticed something soft yet foreign hit your face. It couldn’t have been his hair, since it felt differently. When you opened your eyes, you almost jumped due to the surprise. These were wings, and gigantic ones at that. Huge, raven black wings covered the entire mattress, and it came from the back of your planned one night stand partner. Was this some cosplay? He didn’t wear this yesterday, or did he but you were drunk and didn’t notice? Nonetheless, he didn’t let you leave the bed, instead he held onto you as if his life depended on it.

When he woke up, he had heart-shaped pupils as he stared at you with such a strong want and need in his eyes. Cheeks already flushed pink even though you haven’t done anything yet. He wanted to keep going were you two left off yesterday, despite his body protesting because he was so sore. His insides have been rearranged by you after all, and if he weren’t a holy being before, he was sure his pelvis would be broken by now. You took a while to believe him, as well as understand the situation. Afterwards, you took him in, since it was your responsibility. Besides, now your guardian angel was a horny little bitch bird who is in heat 24/7, waiting to get taken by you. Maybe it will be quite fun?

Now, you made him like this. You made him dependent on the feeling of being filled to be brim and stuffed like an object. Well, at last, his actions were not in vain. You stopped going to parties and random hook ups, since you got a personal fuck toy right in the comfort of your home now <3

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wisheslost · 2 days

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The white-eye warbles, the camellia blooms.

As a writer of Yae Publishing House, you have to visit the shrine for work purposes quite often— and it is on these shrine visits that you came to be even more acquainted with the yashiro commissioner, of whom you were previously known to only as that writer he had bumped into at the Irodori festival, in his sister's words; the most cliché way possible.

cw : mutual pining, friends/strangers to lovers, fluff, reader gets screamed at but its fine its not by ayato, no use of y/n, reader is technically an oc but is never referred to with a name. pls lmk if I should add more!

a/n : ive been meaning to post this but i kept stalling😭 sorry

wc : 5.4k

Kamisato Ayato is a smart man. The revered head of the Kamisato clan knows all there is to know about what's going on amidst the different commissions in Inazuma, but not a single clue does he have about the feelings you harbour for him, and who knows when he will?

You seldom had the opportunity to go to the shrine, and so, everytime you came down from the shrine, everytime you hurriedly made your way through Chinju forest, you did with the same intention in mind— to see Ayato. It didn't matter if he didn't notice you, just a glimpse of his face made your day better.

One of these very days, Ayato saw you pass, and much to your surprise, invited you in to have tea. In an attempt to be polite, and since you were done with work at the time, you accepted his sweet offer.

And so it continued — each time someone of the estate saw you passing by, they'd invite you in and offer you tea, while you tried your best to decline most of the time, sometimes it was just… not doable. Convincing Thoma was a hard job, but to persuade Miss Furuta to let you go was even more difficult.

Now, Ayato wasn't always there, sometimes he was out for a meeting or was doing work in his chamber ( the same chamber you found yourself too unimportant to enter, the chamber that felt almost suffocating to you the one time you went in there. ) but even when he was, if he heard of you having came, he'd offer you to tea with the condition that you had to wait till his work was done. You loved his company, so who were you to deny it?

And perhaps that love you had for the time you spent with him turned into the love you had for him.

You two weren't strangers. No, not at all. You bumped into each other during last year's Irodori festival, and in the most clichesque way ever, all your documents had fallen down, and being the gentleman he was, Ayato helped you pick them up ( obviously !).

Ayato found himself writing you a letter ever so often, and your reply to it that laid there among his official documents was the last to be opened of the day—but not the least, no, it was a way for him to conclude his day positively, or so he had told you. And as you two grew closer, you only found it easier to share your work with him, snippets of something you wrote that you were somewhat proud of , but that didn't make it into the published version of the story, a verse from a poem you gave up on writing, anything you thought he would like— you sent him, and eagerly waited for his reply.

You'd read him some of your poetry time to time— each time you came by his castle of a house, and each time he simply stared at you until you finished, and would then ask you why you used a certain metaphor to describe a certain thing, to which you'd happily answer, or commend you for having thought of something in such a different way, and at the end, he'd pass a rather funny comment, even if unintentionally, such as one like "I want this framed on my wall." to which you could do nothing but laugh, while he simply gazed at the beauty the sky harboured, seemingly deep in thought. Why he always did that, you did not know, and you could only wonder, what exactly did he think of each time?

Is showing your unpublished work to someone outside the Yae Publishing House breach of contract? No... Well, not exactly. You had agreed to abstaining from showing anyone anything that has to do with your unpublished literary pieces, but you knew the publishing house wasn't ever going to publish the poems you wrote on your own. They would say things like the topic's too vague, the metaphors don't make sense, and that the writing didn't flow, whatever that meant. So, what you wrote for the publishing house was what they demanded from you— quite different than what you actually wrote. Alas, they don’t understand your words when they're not catered to them. But it's fine, Ayato did, and what more could you ask for?

Actually, if given the chance, you would definitely ask for something more.

Kamisato Ayato understood social cues quite well, or atleast one would think he would, as that was a big part of his duty. So why he couldn't comprehend your feelings for him, was a mystery to you. But I guess understanding if someone likes you or not isn't really something listed in the skillset a Yashiro commissioner requires.

Now, what he could and couldn't understand was not your problem, and would no longer be, not after you confess your feelings to him. You figured it would be easier to do if you just played it out like one of your usual interactions, and so you wrote a poem. A poem you'd innocently read out to him one of those days you happen to stumble upon his house, and with it, he'd finally understand. Finally understand you liked him.

Something else popped up. A question much unappreciated. The worst outcome possible. “But what if he didn't like you back?” Well the poem isn't even for him then! It's from the point of view of one of my original characters— yes, that excuse is good enough.

But then the day finally arrived, you were finally there, sitting in Kamisato Estate's courtyard eagerly waiting for Ayato to be done with his meeting that had started just as you came, it was not often Ayato had meetings in his chamber, so it seems you just happened to have bad luck today. Sitting on the cushion, waiting for Ayato to be done, you found yourself making multiple revisions to that poem of yours, and in the middle of that, you were suddenly reminded of the meeting at Yae Publishing House you had this evening, but the thought soon slipped your mind as you thought of another line for the poem.

He had promised it would not take too long, but one hour had gone by just like that, and before you knew it, you were barely keeping awake, you couldn't help it, running on 2 hours of sleep from having worked all night, your mind was starting to shut down. Resting your head on the table was probably the first mistake you made that day— but one could argue there were plenty other mistakes made before that, such as not having slept in the first place.

You usually came to meet Ayato around the evening, not only because his workload was lighter that time of the day but also because the publishing house's important meetings and discussions of the sort were held most often, if not all the time, early in the day. And that was precisely why you had forgotten about that meeting you had this evening. Was it the two hours of sleep or the anxiety from the whole confession thing? whatever it was, it was just making your day harder and harder.

It had been an hour and a half since you arrived at Kamisato Estate, the hour spent waiting and scribbling, and the half spent peacefully sleeping as no one bothered to wake you up. It wasn't that the staff of the estate couldn't care less about you, in fact, everyone around noticed you having succumbed to slumber. But who dare to awaken you, Clan Head's possible significant other?

It's true that Ayato was unbeknownst to your feelings towards him, but those at Kamisato Estate weren't. It was easy to tell you had a thing for him, much too obvious that every time you saw him in the eye your heart skipped a beat, and practically every one of the estate's staff thought you two were together, and just trying to hide it. To them, the way you looked at Ayato, was the way he looked at you. His, a loving gaze that never lets go of your frame, and a soul that so desperately wants to tell the whole world how much he loves you(— but hell, he couldn't even fathom telling you) and Yours, a stare that quickly tries to focus on something else when noticed by him, a heart too heavy with emotions— emotions that cannot find their way through speech, and are expressed only through words.

And that serene and loving gaze was the first thing you saw being woken up, because in that whole house, no one except Clan Head himself would have the courage to wake you up.

It's not until Ayato's voice echoes in your ears accompanied by the faint pitter-patter of the rain that you realise your noses are barely inches away from touching as he knelt down to your level.

“Oh, my writer, it seems you've slept most wonderfully in my absence, and on Thoma's jacket, huh?” his tone had a bit of sneer in it, as if he was jealous of the fact you had used Thoma's jacket as a pillow. And there was that— “my writer”, it stemmed from an inside joke, wherein once when he was transcribing a poem you wrote, you called him ‘my personal calligrapher’ which warranted the “That would make you my writer, hm?” and you knew it was a joke but goodness, he called you that only when people weren't around, and the way he said it everytime, Oh Archons!

But wait— You weren't supposed to be swooning over Ayato right now! You should be at the publishing house, attending that meeting— and so you rose up frantically to leave, apologies leaving your mouth rapidly,

“Lord Commissioner, I'm so sorry but I must go, I had an important work thing and I- I'm sorry! I should hav-'' and that is when you get cut off by Ayato's forefinger upon your lips, if that was an attempt to shush you- it worked. “Just go. I understand.” he said, and the reassurance in his voice and the slight smile on his face brought you right back to your senses.

And so you hurriedly put on your shoes to make a run for it, uttering one final ‘sorry’ to him, much to his dismay. And as you made it out the door of the estate, you heard Ayato's voice calling to you- “Take an umbrella!” to which you could only respond— “I'll be fine! The rain's not that bad!” because right now, saving face at the publishing house was far more important than a few drops on your clothes.

Except it wasn't a few drops, you had greatly underestimated the power of the Hydro Archon, because by the time you reached the doors of the publishing house, you were completely wet from head to toe— and saving face was no longer present in your dictionary. In fact, you never even wanted to show your face again- and god, how many and who even were the people attending that meeting? because you were going to embarrass yourself in front of all of them right now.

The second you entered that room where the meeting was going on, as if your bad luck wasn't bad enough, you saw a figure too striking, bright pink hair.. fox ears.. and those eyes, those eyes that didn't take even a full two seconds to notice your presence and announce it to the whole room.

“Oh, look who's here! did the Yashiro Commission- er, reject you, my dear? or did you finally realise where your priorities should lie?” and right after she had said that, you could feel that theories about you and the commissioner had already began floating in the air of that room— whispers of a mixture of words like yashiro commissioner, head of the kamisato clan could be heard, and among them was that name a bit too familiar- Kamisato Ayato. How she knew about your yashiro commission shenanigans, you had no idea, but you weren't about to question her— Guuji Yae was no god, but people were convinced she definitely was omniscient, the way she never lacked information about the people she worked with.

You could swear on your life that the stutter after the words ‘yashiro commission’ was done on purpose, and you'd live. What she was trying to imply wasn't too obvious, in fact, the way she said it, it could easily be interpreted as something entirely different— but what was also true, only it wasn't something you were comfortable with everyone in that room knowing. You couldn't manage to respond to that, ‘tleast not in a way that would allow you to keep your job. And so Guuji Yae's lips spoke again, this time out of pity for you.

“But hey, better late than never.” she said, gesturing for you to come sit next to her.

And so the meeting went on like normal. You were trembling terribly from the cold, dripping wet still but there wasn't anything you could do about it, and as the guy sitting next to you took notice of that and offered you his jacket, you could feel watchful eyes throughout the room landing upon you two, waiting for your response. With the amount of writers present in this room, you knew this interaction was making its way into a light novel soon. Thinking of a response was hard, accepting it would give birth to more conspiracies, but not accepting it would blatantly prove Guuji Yae's previous comment about the yashiro commissioner right. And before you could think of a response to that awfully nice gesture, you were snapped out of your thoughts by your editor, who was currently explaining something on a whiteboard, something you failed to understand because of the preoccupations your mind currently had. “(Name), are you even paying attention !?” were his words, and as if enough people weren't already staring at you, now the whole room was. A nervously spoken ‘sorry’ was all you could let out, and it wasn't even a proper answer to his question.

The meeting dragged on for another 15 minutes— 15 dreadful, cold minutes. And when it was finally over and people were getting out of their seats and as if your luck wasn't already the worst, it only got worse-r as your editor called out to you right as you got up, “Not you. I still have to talk to you.” Did he not see you shivering? Looking like a sopping wet cat? Did he not have an ounce of sympathy?

As everyone else exited the room, you were forced to sit until who knows when. Guuji Yae was the last to leave, and before she stepped out the room, she called the editor over to speak to him, uttering something along the lines of what you thought was “Go easy on the poor thing, ok?” and was that poor thing in question you? most likely, yes. And good for that— he shouldn't think to disobey the owner of this whole establishment right?

But he did. Or atleast, the words that followed after she left did not seem like him ‘going easy on you’ at all.

The way he had his arms on the desk, the way his figure loomed over yours, that expression on his face… oh, you were about to be scolded big time.

“You, tell me. What exactly is your problem?”

“I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again, I apologise.” You couldn't even make eye contact with him as you spoke, and while your attempt at an apology was well delivered, it was terribly timed.

“If you were so fucking sorry as you claim to be, tell me, what the hell has been bothering you so damn much to arrive late to an important meeting when i had reminded you so many times the previous day!?”

Oh. That was a first— never before had you heard him swear like this, and you're pretty sure it probably falls under top 10 things you shouldn't do if you don't want to lose your job, but who were you to say? your job was being held together by a single thread made of miracles.

“I'm really sorry sir, it was just something personal- I can guarantee you, it won't ever happen again.” Ah yes, the infamous personal issue: the inability to manage a schedule.

“Did someone pass away?”

“..No.”

“Someone fall gravely ill?”

“..No”

“Family issues?”

“No-”

“Then WHAT the hell’s been bothering so much you show up late to a meeting with GUUJI YAE? Do you seriously not understand how fucking embarrassing it is? For the writer I had to practically beg for the higher-ups to not fire even though you kept being late and crossing deadlines, to show up late again?” He had yanked you out of your seat with his right hand midway through his speech out of the anger he possessed as of current, becoming physical when angry wasn't uncommon, but for someone who you always saw as calm and cool, for someone who always put up with you no matter what, the breaking point had arrived, and it was wholly your fault.

But you understood. Understood the reasons behind his furious reaction, for he was right, it was truly embarrassing, because that thread made out of miracles that was holding your job in place wasn't made out of miracles at all— it was made out of your editor's continued efforts to keep you in this organisation.

When you didn't, well, more like couldn't respond to him, and he realised the outburst he had just made, he let go of your upper arm, and his hand went back to the desk with his other arm, and as he regained his senses, looking down at the desk realising what he just did, he tried to apologise-

“I didn't mean to-”

“I-it's fine. You don't have to say anything.” Cutting him off was usually not something you would do, but at this moment, it felt right.

“I'm sorry, Please leave. And please, please don't tell anyone about this.” You could see the regret in his face as he sat down on his chair, head in hands refusing to make eye contact with you and instead choosing to stare at the hardwood floor instead, and you knew if anyone found out about this you both would be kicked out the publishing house together.

“I won't. Good night, sir.” and as you exited that room, you could hear a faint “good night” from your editor, who was too ashamed to even speak any louder.

And as you left, you failed to notice the bright pink figure of the Guuji beside the entrance of the conference room, who had eavesdropped on that entire conversation.

________

It had been 11 days since then. 11 days of Ayato wondering whatever it was that you wanted to tell him that day, hoping you would at least write him a letter. But no letter came, and neither did you.

While the Kamisato's days went by quite peacefully and ordinarily, yours were much, much different.

Back at Yae Publishing House that day, the Guuji held your editor back to tell him to get you to write some sort of romance novel around this plot– A careless writer who has amazing skill in writing, but barely manages to keep her job due to the troubles caused by her family, and her editor who has to beg the higher-ups to let her keep her job, who's also hopelessly in love with her.

While the plot is good, you weren't too happy having it recommended to you in that way. Does the Guuji think you have romantic feelings for your editor? or is it vice versa ?

Whatever it is that the Guuji thought, it didn't matter right now, because she demanded the first volume of the comic book that was about to be serialised be done in 15 days. With 11 days already gone by, and everything done on your part, you finally had some leisure time to enjoy, leisure time you were spending laying on the floor in front of the fan sipping cold lavender melon juice peacefully, almost on your way to dreamland.

That is, until you heard a knock on your door. When you went to open it, no one was there, or so you had thought, not having noticed the little kid dressed like a mujina at your doorstep at first, looking sleepy as ever.

“Oh, hello! What is it that brings you here to my doorstep, little one ?” as you bent down to greet the sleepy child, you felt a muscle in your back ache. Ah, the consequences of having the worst sleeping posture known to man.

“I'm not ‘little one’. My name is Sayu. I'm from the shuumatsuban, and Mr. Yashiro Commissioner sent me to relay an important message to you.” as she finishes her sentence, she hands you a little paper from her back pocket that says “I have something important to speak to you about. Come meet me. -your personal calligrapher”

Oh. You're done.

What could it possibly be about !? What could Kamisato Ayato, Clan head of the Kamisato Clan and the Yashiro Commissioner have to talk about that would be important to you !? Whatever it was, it was scaring you.

“Do I have to go right now?” as nervous as you were, you were also curious, what the hell was this man upto? and actually, was he even upto something, or was this just something to get you to come to the estate as quickly as possible?

“Yes, that's what he said anyway.” as she said this, Sayu sounded so, so done with you and Ayato that you couldn't really do anything. It seemed like if you didn't go right now, as soon as possible, Sayu would fall asleep right on your doorstep.

“Alright, then, let us leave. But wait- just one thing-” and so, you went to your bedside table to pick up that diary you always took to Kamisato Estate, the one you wrote that damnee confession in- but, it wasn't there? surely you placed it somewhere else when under the influence of fatigue and forgot.. Well, with Sayu's patience running thinner- you should probably just leave finding that diary to your future self.

Sayu was not at all interested in whatever it was that went on between you and Ayato, she kept quiet the whole way from your house to the Kamisato Estate, except for a yawn or two in the middle.

Your attempt at distracting yourself from whatever it was that Ayato wanted to talk to you about by looking at the flowers and the trees as you made your way to the estate was not quite successful.. for as the dew drops fell off from the roses, you could feel yourself perspire as well.

When you finally stepped foot in Kamisato Estate, you saw him, Kamisato Ayato, simply leaning on his balcony ledge gazing at the horizon, unaware of your resence and all he made you feel. You were quite sure this amount of sweating could submerge Jinren Island.

Jinren Island being submerged aside, no one was there at the estate except Ayato. Miss Furuta wasn't standing at her usual place, Koharu wasn't busy cleaning something that doesn't even look like it needs cleaning, and even Mr. Madarame was nowhere to be seen.

As you were busy analyzing the current state of the ground you were standing on, Sayu's voice spoke—

“Mr. Yashiro Commissioner, I brought them.”

Ayato turned around, his eyes finally meeting yours after what seemed to be an eternity to him.

“Oh, thank you Sayu. You may go now.”

As the man came to sit down, he signaled you to sit near him as well, contrary to how you would usually sit, on the opposite side of the table. “Sit here, you sure look like you need to.” his voice beamed, and you could feel your heart burst into eight thousand pieces upon hearing him talk to you again.

While you were most delighted to finally talk to him again, you couldn't help but wonder where the staff went, therefore naturally, you asked him as he poured his tea from the kettle into his little cup,

“So… where's all the staff gone?”

“Disappointed no one's here to give you free snacks, huh? Don't worry, I'm quite generous when it comes to my food, Here, want a sip?” and as his sentence came to an end, he offered you a cup of tea by raising it to your lips, which you pushed away as politely as you could. “You know I don’t drink tea, right? You asking me multiple times isn't going to change that..”

“Well, it was worth a try.”

“But seriously, where are all the staff? in all my days spent procrastinating here, I've never seen it so empty..”

“I told them to take a break as I was going to have an important person over to discuss some very important, urgent matters, and for that discussion, I need some privacy.”

“But then why not have the meeting in your chamber? Enough privacy there, no?”

“Of course, of course, but you see, this client of mine, they think my chamber is really stuffy and feels suffocating. So naturally, I decided to have said meeting here.”

“Oh, so uhm, when is this meeting of yours? considering the staff are already gone..It must be soon, yes?”

“Oh yes, yes.. Infact, for the staff, the meeting has already started.”

“Wait.. Am I..?”

“Go on, you're almost there.”

“Jackass, I'm the ‘super important’ person you were meeting, huh?”

“See, this is exactly why this meeting is being held. The way you address me, the way you talk to me.. it's not exactly the usual way I'm addressed.. Not even my friends behave this way with me.”

“You have friends?”

“Of course I- See ! that's my point, you talk so nonchalantly to me, what do you think people would think of you as when they see you acting like this in public ?”

“Disrespectful? Discourteous? Rude? Impolite? Ill-mannered?”

“My beautiful Oxford dictionary, that's not what I meant. Don't you think people would look at us joking around and think of us as lovers ?”

As soon as you heard that “beautiful”, oh goodness, you were done for. you had fallen so deep in love with this man it was beyond any find and rescue team to help you. you couldn't make an answer to that statement, no, you were busy in dreamland wondering if all these people at the estate saw you and Ayato talk to each other and thought, “oh, these two definitely have something going on.”

Snap. one snap of his fingers in front of your face, and you were thrown right back into reality.

“So?”

“Uhm, we don't go out much, actually, we've never gone out together, so that's not a problem as far as I'm concerned.”

“The way you say it.. it's almost like you're mad we never go out.”

“Well, we don't. I've never even stepped foot on the east side of the estate.. let alone go anywhere with you.”

“Hm? Let's go there then.” near the end of his sentence, he placed his teacup down and got up, walking to the same place he was standing before you came here, and so you followed.

As he leaned on the ledge of the balcony, his body facing the horizon, he looked at you, hands crossed, yours facing him.

“So? What do you think, are we qualified to go out now?” he spoke, turning towards you, and as he turned, he looked up at something and then smirked, his eyes returning to you. Goodness, he looked so hot— but wait, what was he staring at? before you could fully turn your head to face behind you, his left arm quickly got hold of the side of your neck that you were about to turn, “Why are you-”

“Answer my question first.” throughout this exchange, his hand was still there on your neck holding it from turning around.

“Yes, we can go out together, but what the hell is behind me that you don't want me to see?”

Leaning in towards your ear, he spoke. And to say his lips were one breath away from touching your temple is an understatement. “You remember the thing i told you about the staff, right? Well, they've all gathered near the first window of the second floor, and are currently looking at us, waiting for something to happen.” while he said all this, he was staring daggers into Thoma's soul, who, being the one who accidentally spread the rumour that Ayato was going to confess his feelings for you today, was awkwardly smiling at the slightly pissed off clan head, whose confession of love was about to turn into a source of entertainment for his staff, and of course, something to tease him about later for his sister, also present with the staff. Finishing his sentence, he finally pulled away from you.

“But.. waiting for what to happen..?” trying to get the butterflies in your stomach to calm down from what just happened, you focused back on the conversation.

“Waiting for me to confess.”

Stop the clock. He didn't mean confess his love, did he? Surely there's no way.

“C-confess what!?”

“That- ah, I can't believe I'm saying this in such an ordinary way, but listen, I'm not a man of poetry, or atleast, writing it. I tried to, believe me, but it just looked so awkward to me, nothing compared to what you wrote for me in your diary-”

“YOU READ THAT POEM?”

Ayato put his hands on your shoulders, and in an attempt to calm you down, spoke forth.

“Hey now! Let's calm down, alright? I didn't read anything beyond the 9th line because Ayaka snatched it away from me, so please, don’t be mad. I should have realised I was in no place to open someone else's very personal diary, and I don't even know if that poem was meant for me, but I just-”

“No.. Ayato, you're.. You're too sweet. I'm sure you had no ill intentions, I only freaked out because it was so surprising, and since it was indeed meant for you. And you can read the whole poem afterwards, but for now, please, please go on about what you were telling me.”

“I can't just go on like this, not after you've told me you wrote about me- Me, of all people! Me, after you've written about the sun, the seas, the sky, the surreal- after all that, you wrote about me. And so beautifully, too, I can't go on, not with my life, not with whatever it was I originally wanted to say.” his expression was one you had never seen before, so full of innocence, he looked like a wet puppy in the rain, like he'd die of a cold if you didn't shelter him right away, and you could swear you saw tears welling up in his eyes, and all this because you wrote about him, all this because his feelings were returned, all this because he finally felt loved.

You couldn't even respond, hell, you couldn't even choke back tears, and so as you were processing his words, you wrapped your arms around his torso and went in to hug him, sobbing into his chest. He returned the hug, one arm around your shoulders, and one running over your head, a tear dropping on your head as he did.

When you both pulled away from the hug, it was just laughter and wiping away each others’ tears, until you both were staring at each other fondly. And then Ayaka's voice could be heard from the back— “I told you they wouldn't kiss!” followed by a subdued Thoma, “my mora..”

“You know we can hear, right? And betting on my love life? Seriously?” As Ayato turned to reply to his sister, the staff scurried away, not wanting to be noticed by him, and as amused as you were, you didn't join in on the conversation, instead choosing to pull Ayato's collar towards yourself and pulling his lips onto yours. Before Ayaka could respond, Ayato leaned in to the kiss, cupping your face with his hands, and you could feel him smirk a bit.

He chuckled while pulling away from you, turning to a very surprised Ayaka and Thoma, mouths open in bewilderment,

“So... I guess Thoma wins?”

#[ mine 🐳 ]#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact ayato #kamisato ayato #ayato kamisato #ayato x reader #ayato x gn!reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fanfic #Kamisato ayato x reader #gi ayato #ayato x you

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chucky-vs-the-giant-tortoise · 8 hours

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tangled

JJ Maybank x toddler!sister!reader

(REQUEST): thinking of baby sister maybank maybe being 1-2 and jj is really struggling with her hair, and he wants her hair out of her face but doesn’t know what to do. so sarah and kie step in

warning(s): N/A

a/n: thank you for the request, m'love. if i'm being honest i may rewrite this in the future because i have unfortunately had very little motivation to write this week. :( but even still i hope that you enjoy.

also, to everyone who has written me a request, i promise i'm working on them! they should all hopefully be finished by this week or the next.

“Ow!” Y/N squeaked, her plump digits failing to swat away JJ’s hands.

Her elder brother huffed, struggling to tame the toddler’s head of unruly curls. It was hard enough to pull all of the odds and ends of her hair into a ponytail far too small for his large fingers–let alone when she was intervening in the already troublesome process.

“I know, I know,” JJ said, instinctively jutting out one of his hands to keep a wriggling Y/N from jumping out of his lap. He just barely managed to foil yet another one of her escape attempts. “You’ve just gotta sit still for a minute, peanut. Almost done.”

Y/N continued to whine, squinting against the harsh sun whilst JJ fiddled around with an elastic band in several failed attempts to create a functioning ponytail. The task only got harder as time trekked on—Y/N was antsy to join Kie and Sarah up at the bow of the HMS Pogue, and the more she tried to squirm her way to freedom, the worse JJ’s makeshift ponytails became.

“Jesus, dude. What the Hell are you doin’ to our mini Pogue, huh?” John B teased from the helm after several minutes of Y/N’s aggravated complaints, tonguing his cheek in amusement.

JJ had managed to get a good chunk of Y/N’s hair held sturdily away from her face, but several of her thick curls still fell like a veil over her large blue eyes.

“Don’t listen to him, Jay. You’re a pro,” Pope laughed from behind him. JJ glared from behind the lenses of his shades.

“Ha-ha-fucking-ha. You ever tried to do this shit, man? It’s harder than it looks.”

The girls laughed as they caught a glimpse of JJ’s masterpiece. Y/N pouted, blonde curls spilling over her chubby face. “Need some help over there, Jay?” Kiara finally asked, taking pity on JJ who now wore a nearly identical pout to his baby sister.

The boy sighed, running a hand through his own hair. “Please.” He scooped up his sister and carefully set her down on her unstable feet. “She’s all yours.”

Y/N, content with her newfound freedom, barrelled over to where her favourite Pogues had been sitting all afternoon: lounging around as they tanned and took swigs from their respective beers. Sarah laughed as the young girl fell onto her legs, wasting no time in sitting the little firecracker between herself and Kie.

“Wow,” Sarah said, observing the elder Maybank’s work up close. It was worse than she thought. “JJ really did a number on you, huh?”

“Jay bad at hair!” Y/N accused, brows furrowed in annoyance as she pointed a crude finger at her big brother. JJ rolled his eyes.

“Did better than you could've, peanut.” Y/N stuck out her tongue in response, and the girls chuckled as JJ reciprocated her gesture.

“Don’t worry, Y/N/N. We’ll take care of it,” Kie said, carefully undoing JJ’s handiwork without so much of a wince from the toddler. Sarah dipped into her bag to find a hairbrush and the few extra elastics she always kept on hand. “Gonna make you look so pretty, bub.”

“Promise?” The little girl beamed up at her, and Kie lightly pinched at her cheek.

“Promise.”

It took an embarrassingly short period of time for Kie and Sarah to get Y/N’s hair in order, brushing it into two braided pigtails on either side of her small head. The smile never left Y/N’s face as they worked, efficient and gentle in their process—the complete opposite to JJ’s hectic routine.

“Alrighty,” Sarah declared as she manoeuvred the final hairband, twisting the elastic a few extra times around the toddler’s braid to keep it in place. “You’re all done, Y/N!”

“I look pretty?” Y/N asked, eyes shining with anticipation. Kiara tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

“The prettiest.”

Y/N wasted no time in toddling back over to where JJ was now busy talking to the other two boys, her cheeks dimpled with pride. “Jay!” She cheered, bouncing with excitement. The blond looked down at her, a grin breaking out over his face as he caught sight of his baby sister’s new hairdo. “Pretty?”

JJ chuckled, lifting her back into his lap and pressing a sloppy kiss to her nose.

“Beautiful as ever, munchkin.” Y/N wrapped her small arms around his bronzed shoulders, and JJ gave another quick kiss to her temple. “What’d’ya say we get Kie and Sarah to do your hair all the time now, huh?”

He barely had enough time to complete his sentence as an empty beer can came flying at his shoulder, thrown by a now smirking Kiara.

“Oh you wish , Maybank!”

#obx #outer banks #the outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x sister reader #jj maybank x sister!reader #jj obx #jj outer banks #toddler!reader #sister!reader #jj maybank dialogue #outerbanks dialogue

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trimalchiooframshackle · 8 hours

Text

Ever wonder how in the hell Jay's death goes? well do I HAVE A STORY FOR YOOUUUU!!! INTRODUCING HIS NEW CAUSE OF DEATH WOAH!!!! !

TW: Alcohol abuse, Drug abuse, suicide/suicidal tendencies, self harm, overdose mention, gore, ???

Quick note?? All of this is canon, yes he dies like this ;P LOLZIES!!!!! ALso if its all over the place i apologize i am fighting a moth while writing this /srs kinda curious to know how anyone reacts to it, so... if you wanna put that down or make a post go for it, honestly im kinda considering having this be my closing post but idk yet lol </3

The sound of a gunshot can never be heard over crowds laughing and music blasting. Fireworks in the air, water from the pool splashing... The loud BANG deaf to everyone's ears. How could we know that? The only way it was learned was finding the body of Mr. Jay Gatz. In the highest point of his manor, overlooking the crowd below...

Let's start from square one.

Jay felt... Unwanted. Alone, if you will. As a man who's built himself and his business up only for the sake of overthrowing others, he wasn't the most enjoyed man around. Normally he would've handled this by now. The dread, the self pity, everything he had thought about himself was always kept inside. Why not now? Standing alone, pathetic... In the office he had to himself. Bookcases covering the walls of obscure novels that he hasn't even read, a desk holding messy stacks of various papers, making him feel even worse about himself. A never ending ringing phone before he cut it, the gusts of wind blowing from the outside rustling against the curtains behind him. What a pitiful life.

An outsider. That's all he was, wasn't he? Standing up on that balcony of his, absent to anyones attention besides the solemn glow of the moon above him, and even that was leaving him soon. The fireworks lit up the mansion, the people below, the water, and the champagne bottles crashing and being tossed around to be used. He lit a cigarette, holding it for just a moment then he took a drag.

...After another drag, and another, and another... He put out the cigarette... On his own arm. He winced at the burning feeling against his skin, but another scar wouldn't hurt... Right? Scars were littered all over his body anyway, just another part of him to be ruined. He lit another cigarette then walked inside to grab a bottle of vodka from his own personal storage of alcohol. Never touched unless he was feeling more pathetic than other nights.

Ha, maybe this time he can drink himself to death. Or maybe Perkins will call the ambulance again. Jay hoped to whatever god there was above he wouldn't survive this time. His shaky hands moved to the bottle, bringing it up to his lips before pausing. A week of sobriety.

...He can restart another day. Or in another life, perhaps.

He took a drink. The burn of the alcohol going down his throat being a feeling of discomfort but satisfaction was one that he had somehow managed to miss. Gatz went back out to the balcony, drinking away his sorrows before he couldn't even find himself having any emotion anymore. The rich man could barely hear the knocks at the door, let alone the sound of a man calling for his name.

Soon enough, the door opened unbeknownst to Jay. The only thing that managed to get his attention was a quiet voice coming from the darkened room, lit by only one light. But now... There was another. Then another light on as the person flicked on the light switches. ...Perkins.

➳ ❜ Ah, Jay! I was worried about you, sir! Are you doing alright up here? It's quite... Quiet up here. ❛

No response. Jay turned back to stare into nothing.

➳ ❜ Oh, I see... Maybe you should sit down, I can grab you some tea and- ...Well, maybe not any medicine, I don't want to... Let that happen again. ❛

It wasn't needed to be discussed anymore, it was obvious Perkins was referring to the prior... Attempts Jay had made. In an attempt, Perkins had tried his best to hide anything that Jay could use to end things. As of now, it was working. With a slow approach, Perkins had walked over to Jay. Placing down the lantern he held with a small blow to put it out, he found himself standing next to his boss. Or, rather, his semi-adopted son.

The silence felt like a million years. Perkins, thinking of how to approach this properly, feeling the fatherly need to sit there and just be someone for Jay to lean on, but he knew it wasn't a night for that. All he knew is that he could NEVER leave Jay alone in a state like this. He heard a small mutter of a sob coming from next to him.

╰┈➤ ❜ ...Perkins... Can we go inside? ❛

➳ ❜ Of course my boy. ❛

Jay tiredly swung his arm around Perkins shoulders as he got guided back into the office, letting the shorter man take the vodka from his bruised and shaky hand. Within the next minute or so, he found himself sitting in the rather comfortable office chair he had right infront of his desk. Almost immediately he put his arms down on the desk and put his head down on them, shielding his face in some form of fear of what'll happen next.

➳ ❜ Jay- ❛

╰┈➤ ❜ You can leave now Perkins. ...I'm fine on my own. ❛

➳ ❜ I'm worried, my boy. I can't just leave you like this. Not because it's my job but it's because I care- ❛

Jay's body tensed. Perkins froze as he could practically feel the cold emotion that came from the man right next to him.

╰┈➤ ❜ You don't have to lie to me, Perkins. ❛

Silence. Jay thought he had left, but he hadn't. When Jay lifted up his head he saw Perkins sitting quietly next to him. ...Looks like he's here for a while.

╰┈➤ ❜ ...Am I gonna be left alone forever, Perkins? ❛

➳ ❜ Oh- of course not! You have plenty of people who would love to be around you - ❛

╰┈➤ ❜ ...Then why has everyone left me? ...Everyone except you. I can't keep being alone like this. ❛

➳ ❜ I know, I know... And I'm not getting any younger... But trust me, I won't leave you all alone. You don't deserve that. ❛

╰┈➤ ❜ ... ❛

Jay stood up, then went to grab another bottle of vodka. Perkins got up to take the bottle, only for Jay to look down with a look he has only seen a few times. He was desperate for some form of numbing. ...Perkins sighed. He held up a single finger to signal he can only have one glass.

Jay agreed.

He got the glass and drank it quickly as if it were medicine. And it has been his medicine. Ever since he was younger, more vulnerable. Manipulated, oblivious, it's always been his escape.

╰┈➤ ❜ ...If I were to give you the rest of my wealth, would you let me die? ❛

Silence. Shock. A beat went by.

➳ ❜ Of course not. I wouldn't let you die at all. ❛

╰┈➤ ❜ Oh. ❛

Jay was quiet again. He exhaled and took a drag of the cigarette he had lit earlier. Blowing it out, he looked to the floor with some thought. Jay then opened a drawer in the desk, rummaging around then he let a metal item clatter into the desk.

A gun.

Perkins froze. He took a step forward and Jay put his hand on the gun. Not as a warning to Perkins, but to himself. The blond male slowly picked it up and showed that it was loaded.

╰┈➤ ❜ I was told I needed therapy. You know, I think I’m too far gone. What’s the point of it if im just a lost cause? I’ve been crying and telling too many people my sob story. At this point this… This is better. ❛

➳ ❜ No you’re not too far gone, Jay. …Put down the gun, okay? We can talk about this- ❛

The now slowly breaking millionaire then stood up sharply, stepping back. He took the gun along with him. Then… He snapped. Immediately bursting into tears, he found himself breaking every pushing second. His hands shaking more, he held the gun up to his own head.

╰┈➤ ❜ Talk about what, Perkins? How long have you tried to help me? I’ve been nothing but a waste of time, and god… God I BET if I just- if I just SHOT myself RIGHT NOW, NOBODY OUT THERE WILL HEAR OR CARE, RIGHT?! Who’d go to my funeral? You? Who else? Huh? ❛

Silence. Perkins simply walked over and hugged Jay, catching him off guard. Jays body tensed up again, trying to find a way to keep his composure but failing miserably. The gun slightly moved away from his head, then it sharply went back.

One last exhale, and one last sentence.

╰┈➤ ❜ If you want me to live another day, I need you to start running. Get to the nearest phone. ❛

God, why was he doing this? Why was he trying to help himself? He knew he’d die by then. Somehow, Perkins listened and immediately rushed to the nearest phone only to see Jay had cut the line, then opened the door to go outside. Jay stared.

The door closed, leaving Jay alone.

…Then the gun went off.

Silence. Darkness. Not a feeling. Just… emptiness.

When the paramedics got there Jay was already as dead as can be as he laid in Perkins arms. He had staged it as a murder, writing to Perkins in a final note to never specify it was suicide, but say it was homicide. The people wouldn’t care how he died.

The sight was grim. His only butler making an effort to help, holding him up as if he were still going to live. It was a desperate attempt, really, like a father begging to bring his son back from the dead. The once lively millionaire deceased, his body tense and the blood and brain matter pooling from his head onto the fur rug he had died on. His eyes were still open, only this time they were a monotone and distant blue with less saturation than ever. His skin was pale, suit tattered most likely from the fall. The cigarette lay on his hand, slowly burning at the skin. As he lay there, people were crowded around. Some were investigators, others were people who simply wanted to see. Others taking photos to post on the papers as soon as possible.

…And now Perkins was left to handle the rest of the work Jay had set up.

#|🥂| ~ 𝑮𝑨𝑻𝒁 𝑳𝑶𝑹𝑬!#ramshackle jay #ramshackle oc blog #tw gore #tw suicide #tw blood #tw uhhh sad #oh my fuckin god he fuckin dead!!!!#tw pill mention #tw od mention

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grimesrhees · 3 days

Text

Good Luck, Babe.

pairing: maggie greene/rhee x fem!reader

genre: angst, mostly.

warnings: mentions of intimacy & alcohol

notes: I rarely write so please enjoy my own self indulgent attempt at it solely for my queen Maggie<3 (this also took me forever, thanks adhd😅)

summary: based on Chappell Roan's song Good Luck, Babe! Set (mostly) before the zombie apocalypse, Maggie struggles with her feelings towards other women. reader gets caught in between, falling for her knowing Maggie isn't ready to accept herself yet.

-Pre-Zombie Apocalypse-

“How the hell did I get here again?”

You thought to yourself as you lay sweaty and tingly all over, staring into the void of the dark ceiling above. You knew exactly how you got here, in bed with Maggie Greene, yet again. All she had to do was bat those eyelashes your way and use that sweet southern drawl and you were a goner. Ever since you started getting to know each other at the beginning of the semester 6 months ago, you wanted to show her all the ways you could make her feel good. But from the start you were aware that this was experimentation for Maggie, being with another woman. She didn’t want to admit to herself that she was attracted to women along with men. There were many occasions she’d drunkenly called or text you to come pick her up after one too many shots at the bar, only for you to walk in and find her making out with yet another man. But you always came anyway. Because even through the heart ache of this situationship, you couldn’t help but to start falling for Maggie. She was so smart and kind, gentle but fierce all the same, when she wasn’t being a stubborn bull in denial over the two of you.

Letting out a heavy sigh, you turned to face the soft, bare back of Maggie’s. All those days in the hot Georgia sun on her daddy’s farm had her shoulders and back peppered with freckles. You tried to take in every inch of her while you slowly drew your fingertips up and down along her spine. Maggie hummed sleepily at your touch, and you could feel you heart swell and break into pieces at the same time. You didn’t think you could take this, whatever this was between you and her, much longer.

You woke up early the next morning, way before Maggie, and decided to take a quick shower and brew some coffee. You poured two cups, set them both down on the small table and sat. After wrestling back and forth with your thoughts last night, before you mercifully fell asleep, you decided that it was best to talk to Maggie about what was going on between you two. You sipped the hot coffee slowly and stared into the black liquid abyss in front of you until you heard the small creaks of the floorboard.

Maggie’s figure appeared, wearing nothing but an oversized flannel shirt and a pair of lacey underwear. Her hair, completely disheveled from the passion of the night before. You couldn’t help your heart from fluttering at the sight. She leaned against the door frame and flashed you that winning, toothy smile of hers, signature lip bite and all. It quickly fell when she noticed the sad look on your face as you looked up from your coffee.

“Darlin’ why the sad face, what’s got you down this mornin’?” Maggie cooed in that sweet southern drawl of hers.

“After last night I cain’t have nothin’ but a smile on my face.”

You took a deep breath and looked up into Maggie’s big green eyes.

“Mags, what are we doing? Why do we keep doing this to ourselves? What are we?”

You prepped for the inevitable response you were going to get.

Maggie let out a huff and folded her arms across her chest.

“Whatta ya mean ‘what are we doin’ and ‘what are we’? We’re havin’ fun, it’s just casual sex y/n. We’re not anything but that…” she trailed off, almost as if she was convincing herself at the same time as the words were coming out of her mouth.

God she was so fucking stubborn.

You looked away from her and felt your eyes stinging with inescapable tears. Keeping those tears from falling would take everything in you, so you set your coffee down and started to get up from the table.

“Wait, y/n I didn’t mean it quite like that, you know how much I care about you," she shifted her body up straight,

"But this is just the way it is I can’t-"

You stopped her before she could finish.

“I know that this,” you motioned your pointer finger back and forth between the two of you, “is more than “nothing”, more than just “casual” sex. You know that I love you, Maggie.”

Maggie’s mouth went agape for a brief moment before it snapped shut, her jaw tightening and brows furrowing. A mix of emotions flashed across her face, fear, frustration and sadness. She couldn’t will herself to say anything back to you, so you continued on.

“Y'know what, it’s fine. It's cool. You can kiss a hundred guys in bars, shoot shot after shot just to try and stop you from feeling what you know is true about yourself. Make all the excuses , give me all the stupid reasons, but I won’t be here for them. I can’t do this anymore.”

You stood quickly and snatched your bag off the back of your chair, walking over to Maggie and getting only inches away from her face. Even having just woken up she was exceptionally beautiful, and her scent was something you could get drunk off of. You had ripped the band aid almost all off, you had to control yourself, had to end this now, even though almost every ounce of your body was tempted to push her up against the wall and kiss her until you were both breathless and gasping for air.

“This isn’t something you can just hide from forever, Maggie Greene. And you will think about this, years from now, until maybe you finally fucking realize that. Face to face with my ‘I told you so,’ and a longing for what could have been.”

Maggie continued to just stare at you but with tears now brimming in her eyes, still too stubborn to respond to any of your words. Her eyes fell to your feet until you brushed past her and towards the front door. While reaching for the doorknob you turned and looked back at Maggie, tears already steadily rolling down your cheeks.

“Good luck, babe,” you managed to choke out before swiftly opening the door and closing it behind you with a thud.

-Some months into the Zombie Apocalypse-

Flashes of different images and sensations danced across her mind.

The wind whooshing through her hair as her arms stretched out through the car sun roof.

An arching back and the feeling of sweat rolling down her chest, in a state of complete pleasure. Soft moans and wet kisses.

Giggles rang in and out but soon faded into silence.

Your tear-stained face looking back at her, "I told you so," echoing loudly, and the slamming of a door. Suddenly a mirror appeared and only her heartbroken face was staring back at her.

Maggie awoke with a small gasp and sat straight up in her bed. She took a minute to steady her breathing while trying to recollect the dream she just had. Next to her she heard Glenn let out a sleepy sigh and shift in his sleep. Maggie squeezed her eyes shut and put her head in her hands. The world ended and you were right, she couldn't hide the truth from herself forever. She had loved you, completely. Always did. Maggie laid her head back on her pillow, breathing a sigh of relief, finally allowing herself some acceptance.

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mrfippstuff · 2 days

Text

CSM 167: Yo, What the Fuck?

So, that chapter, huh?

To just get it out of the way, Yoru gave Denji a handjob and he came on her hand, and despite how crude that sounds I find this whole chapter fascinating. Normally I like to think these kinds of posts out but right now my mind is racing trying to organize everything, so I'm going write whatever pops into my mind.

So first thing, there's the issue of consent, and I'll start with Asa, because she didn't show up until the very end, but we have to remember that Asa has shown the ability to push Yoru out of the driver's seat in moments where she is particularly having strong emotions, and someone using your hand to jack someone off would get some kind of strong emotion out of her. Yoru seems to act as Asa's unfiltered, unrestrained thoughts and desires, the version of Asa that acts without the worry of what other people think or say about her, so that means if Yoru was allowed to do this, then that means on some subconscious level that Asa was okay with this happening. I'm certain she'll scream and yell about it later, but that won't change the fact she let this happen. Then there's Denji, who at this point I think we'll just have to accept that even if all parties involved give consent I doubt he'll ever have a really "normal" sexual experience, and the fact that Yoru seemed to be getting into this along with him, instead of her just using it to manipulate him like literally every other girl he's been with unironically maybe puts it at the top of the list for him.

Which brings me to Yoru! back when the had the apartment date, she kissed Denji and when she pulled away she was blushing, she felt something for him at that moment, and as we saw here the returning memory of that date had her act on that feeling again. We know that Asa's emotions leak into Yoru, and considering Asa's own feelings on Denji that means that to some extent Yoru feels them too, but unlike Asa, Yoru has no inhibitions to stop her from acting on her desires.

Overall, this chapter left me with two major thoughts on what I think/want to happen.

The first being is that this is what causes Denji to snap, that he'll have some post-nut clarity and call Asa out on how she's been acting, because from his point of view she's been an unstable, schizophrenic psychopath this whole day. Denji asks her about her arm, she kicks him in the balls, she says she wants to help him, but she threatens to fight him, she tries to castrate him, and she gives him a hand job and makes out with him! What is he supposed to reasonably think about her in this situation when she's just been nothing but an inconsistent mess? I want them to start getting mad and start yelling, with Asa arguing with both him and Yoru which only makes her look more insane to him. I really feel like if they get angry, then Denji can actually start beginning to take some control of his life back instead of letting everyone push him around, and Asa will be forced to confront her flaws and mistakes, that she can only be in denial for so long while Denji is screaming in her face about it. It would be ugly and messy, but I think it might actually be good for them in the end.

Also, I'm not entirely joking when I say if those two(three?) end up having intense hate sex in that alleyway in the rain, then I think it would be insane in the best kind of ways.

And second, I think it would be unhinged is Asaden was a red herring, and Yoruden was the real end game pairing. It might legit be the start to Asa's villain origin story. She goes out and does all these things just so Denji can feel strong affections for her, to give her something to latch her self-worth and the attempts to validate her life, oly for Denji to fall in love with Yoru instead. It would be both hilarious and tragic.

Another thing! Up until this point I thought Denji and Asa's relationship would be a tragedy or What Ifs and Could Have Beens, but instead I want them to be unhinged as possible, spiraling down while they blaze the candle at both ends. Just let their relationship become everyone's problem from now on.

Overall, the last few months have left me nervous and apprehensive about what each new chapter of Chainsaw Man will bring, but as of this chapter I find myself more excited than ever because I feel like this might end up taking the story is some insane places.

#chainsaw man #denji #asa mitaka #yoru #war devil #asaden #yoruden #asayoruden

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unknown-lifeform · 3 days

Note

💕 with whoever your favorite ship with cloud is. Or whatever pairing you want to write tbh

💕 kissing somewhere other than lips

Cloud tried not to make noise as he got out of bed. The alarm on the bedside table said it was 03:46 in the morning. There was no reason for him to be awake at this time, and yet he was, and he didn't like it.

He pushed the sheets off. After failing to fall asleep again for a while, he had decided he might as well go to the bathroom and have a snack. Maybe filling his stomach with chips would help knock him out faster. Or maybe not, but it would still involve chips.

In theory, Cloud should be able to get around in the dark easily. His eyesight was good enough, and obviously he was familiar with his own room. What he hadn't considered was his boots scattered around the floor. Because yesterday evening he and Sephiroth hadn't really stopped to put everything back in its proper place.

Cloud tripped. His hands shot out, trying to grab on to something. What instead happened was his shin slammed straight into the bedpost.

"Shit!" Cloud hissed.

"Cloud?"

He hadn't meant to wake Sephiroth up. But of course he had, Sephiroth was all too good at picking up noise.

"It's nothing," Cloud said, bending down to rub his shin. Fuck that hurt. He had gotten stabbed, experimented on, everything that could go bad in his life, but furniture corners defeated him every time.

Rustling on the bed as Sephiroth crawled towards him. "Is anything wrong?"

"No, just the bedframe trying to kill me."

Cloud sat down, and immediately after felt Sephiroth's body against his back. "Any injuries?"

"Just hit my shin."

"Mmm. Lay back down."

"I'm not feeling like sleeping."

"Lay down," Sephiroth insisted.

Well, fine. Guess that was two of them awake in bed now. Cloud laid down, although Sephiroth didn't. Given he was looking up at shining mako eyes, he guessed Sephiroth was sitting up.

One hand landed on his leg. "This shin?"

"That's my knee, actually."

Sephiroth pinched his thigh. "Smartass."

Fingers ran down along Cloud's leg. And then, green eyes lowered, and Cloud felt the brush of hair against his bare skin, and then lips pressing against the shin in question.

"Are you kissing the pain away?" Cloud asked, amused.

Sephiroth didn't reply. He kissed Cloud's leg again, and then his knee, and his thigh. Cloud wondered if Sephiroth had decided it was a perfect time to get frisky, but all he did was kiss Cloud's hip, and then moved up without considering any sensitive area.

"Sephiroth?" Cloud asked, feeling lips on his ribs.

Even if Cloud couldn't see his own chest in the dark, he knew Sephiroth had just kissed the scar marking the place where someone had once shoved a sword right through Cloud.

"Establishing only you are allowed to try and kill me?" Cloud asked, shifting. It always made him feel a bit weird, the attention given to his scar.

"Yes," Sephiroth said, nosing his sternum. "And since I've taken a break from that, no one else is."

"Just taken a break?"

"Keep leaving dirty dishes in the sink and I may make another attempt."

Sephiroth crawled up, and laid down next to Cloud, one arm around Cloud's waist. Cloud shifted, making himself comfortable against his chest.

"You ever think about how weird it is?" Cloud said. "That we ended up like this?"

"No."

"Because us going from you repeatedly ruining my life and me repeatedly killing you to us in bed together is just the most natural thing?"

"Yes."

Of course he said that. Honestly, it wasn't as if Cloud could argue in any way, the results were fairly obvious.

Sephiroth kissed the side of Cloud's head. "Go to sleep, Cloud."

"Can't."

Sephiroth snuggled closer. Cloud sighed. Guess he could close his eyes and see if the giant heating pad next to him could help.

#ask #howdoistormspirit #ff7 #sefikura #my writing #thank you for the ask!

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random0lover · 1 year

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The struggle is so real 😭

#if you write you understand #or have ever even tried to make an attempt to write #writing struggles #random0lover writing struggles

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super-nova5045 · 2 months

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sylvia plath, todd anderson and virginia woolf (aka ACTUAL tortured poets) watching taylor “im breaking up with my boyfriend for his intense depression and blaming it on him, im dating a racist who enjoys watching woc being brutalized and harasses young woc artists, i sent my fans out on a hate train to attack a young woc actress for a line she had to say as part of her job to show how mentally ill her character was, im dating a maga supporter, i refuse to say anything about a current genocide despite being the most influential person in the world right now, i am a billionaire, i fly 13 minute flights and have the highest carbon emission of any celebrity, i am a known white feminist who only speaks about issues when it affects me and has constantly let my fans get away with extreme racism and even encouraged it by associating myself with known racists” swift call herself a tortured poet (her writing sounds like a bunch of thesaurus words slapped over gabba hanna and rupi kaur-esque poetry that was created purely as a trinket for an edgy pinterest board)

#anti taylor swift #like she can be problematic that’s okay #there are SO many problematic artists i like #but she’s not even that good #like read sylvia plath or virginia woolf or listen to LDR or fiona apple or mitski or lorde or boygenius or olivia rodrigo #aka her peers #and realise how much better they are #they truly write art because they have a compassion and rawness for it #whereas taytay only writes to get more money LOL #she’s so extremely privileged that her life is not at all relatable and now she tries to make it so #by romanticizing the most mundane #thats never been your brand babe now it’s going to sound like dogshit #GUTS by olivia rodrigo is better because it has such an intensity to it. liv means what she says and you can feel it!#fiona apple means what she says when she writes about begging her lover to love her back!#mitski means what she says when she writes that she is self destructive and puts herself in bad situations since that’s all she knows!#lana means what she says when she writes about her suicide attempt at 15 because of constant abuse from her mother and crippling depression #all of it such haunting and beautiful works because it truly comes from the soul and isn’t a cash grab #Anyway i’m so sorry virginia and sylvia and todd #todd anderson #AND JOE ALWYN #joe alwyn my favourite man ever #joe alwyn #dead poets society #anderperry #sylvia plath #virginia woolf #the bell jar #lana del rey #fiona apple #mitski

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regallibellbright · 1 year

Text

“You should go to a hospital.”

“You”--Miles eyed him--”have just lost your authority over my actions. May I remind you. Simon.”

Miles has just been fired by someone who is functionally his uncle, who he called “Uncle” until he entered the Imperial Service nine years ago. Simon’s clearly broken up about this and would have taken any possible out if Miles had given him one. Simon also just witnessed Miles have a seizure in front of him. (Simon also, as family to the Vorkosigans in all but name AND Imperial spymaster, has to be aware of the fact that Miles is a suicide risk right now.) He may have had to fire Miles, but he clearly still cares a lot.

Miles responds by switching back to first-name basis just to twist the knife on that line. It’s awful.

#suicide mention #attempted suicide mention #to be more specific knowing what's about to happen #i guess this is a vorkosigan saga liveblog now #vorkosigan saga #memory #miles naismith vorkosigan #is an impetuous little shit here and is damned lucky Simon cares so much #the self-destruction and lashing out at other people has already begun and it began with Ivan earlier #Simon Ilyan #who is the only commanding officer who could have possibly put up with Miles because only family could ever stand it #who loves him so much that Cordelia could tell he was having a breakdown writing the report where Miles was killed in action #because for once he was euphemising and dodging the point and doing everything he could to avoid saying 'Miles was killed in action'#who seriously. if he hadn't cut someone's legs off with a plasma arc due to this. if he hadn't LIED about it.#if he hadn't passed up EVERY POSSIBLE OPPORTUNITY to save himself. Simon would have tried for Miles.#who is Aral Vorkosigan's liegesworn vassal in all but name not just because of the political reasons but PERSONALLY and everyone knows it #who we all know what's coming up yeah? The good news is Miles is going to redeem himself hard for that 'Simon.' soon enough #but knowing what's coming just makes it hit even harder. OUCH Miles.

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dante-mightdie · 2 months

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Your au's for Ghost have me absolutely feral, specially now that I found the viking content. I'm a sucker for big cold man with a sweet angel for a wife 🥺

There's just so much angst potential, imagine the wife was this doe eyes lady that dreamt of love and read all the sweet fairy tales just to end up married to a brute that thing romance is dumb. Then she tries to make their relationship work in a more traditional sense but the attempts fail 🥺🥺🥺

It could be very angsty or a beauty and the beast type of situation where he tries his best for wifey.

beauty and the beast yes please and thank you or alternatively: lady and the tramp

c/w: fluff, mentions of smut, i’m bad at writing romance leave me alone i’m heartless

he’s always known you as his wife. from the second price dropped you in his lap like a stray kitten, mumbles of clan alliances and blah blah blah. you didn’t really have an opinion nor say about the whole situation. but you didn’t seem displeased with the arrangement your father made with price

it never really clicked in his brain that before you were his wife, you were once a little girl with a head full of dreams. hopes of growing up and finding a good man. one who will whisper sweet nothings in your ear at night, building a home and family with you, treat you like the darling thing that you are

and now here you are, the other half of this viscous soldier. a man who has never known a gentle touch in his life. his romantic experiences consist of going to the brothel and picking the first woman he sees to relieve the stress of battle. he never planned on taking a wife nor starting a family

you never complained. not once. even when he shut down your attempts at affection. you took it on the chin and moved on. perhaps you understood that you could definitely have it worse. simon is by no means a good man. but he certainly isn’t a cruel one either

he’s never laid a disrespectful hand on you. never allowed anyone to treat you as anything other than his wife. the same can’t be said for a lot of women put into these kinds of arrangements

he started to figure you out in bed one night. after being intimate together, he was sat up in bed, candlelight illuminating his sweaty chest as he pants to catch his breath. a flask of ale in his hand as he gulps it down

your form is splayed out in his lap, your legs tangled with those thick tree trunks he calls thighs. the covers are bunched up around you, barely concealing your naked bodies to anyone who might decide to intrude

it never makes him jump when he feels your nails dig into his back and claw down the muscle when he fucks you. or when your teeth bite down on his shoulder to cover your moans when he hikes up your skirt in the dark alley behind a tavern. but when your fingers gentle dance over the scars and tattoos littering his sweaty skin, he feels the hairs on the nape of his neck stand up

goosebumps prickle up and down his body when your lips graze over the large scar slashed across his burly chest, tongue flicking out ever so slightly to taste the sweat resting there,

"what're you doin'?" he grunts out, taking another sip of the ale. your eyes flick up to him, almost surprised that he's actually talking to you. you shrug your shoulders lightly, cheeks heating up slightly from his blunt acknowledgement of your affections

“appreciating what was gifted to me by the gods. your body is a blessing, husband…” you whisper so quietly he almost didn’t hear it. but he did

you considered him a gift. a blessing, even. from the gods themselves. simon almost wanted to laugh. another part wanted to tell you to stop, stop with these childish fantasies. but it soon made sense why you never gave up your attempts of coaxing approval from a man so afraid to love

somewhere, deep down inside of you. that little girl is pleading with you, begging you to make her dreams of finding true love come to life. telling you that you’re the only one who can do it. without you, she has no hope

perhaps it can’t hurt to indulge you. just this once.

#mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #ghost call of duty #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #viking!simon

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yanderenightmare · 3 months

Text

TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere, stalking

gn reader

There’s something very off about your roommate… something eerie that makes you keep your distance.

You can’t describe exactly what it was about the boy except that you felt it from the second you shook his hand. The way he introduced himself… you don’t know… you had this unshakable feeling as though he already knew you from somewhere.

It’s a weird thought to have of someone you’d only just met. You knew you were probably just being paranoid. It was your first time sharing your space with someone other than family, so it might very well just have been you being apprehensive.

Not that you’d ever let it show, though. You didn’t want things between the two of you to be awkward when you’d be living together for the next three years of getting your degree.

You just needed to get used to him, is what you told yourself.

So you laughed at his jokes and listened to his brags with a polite smile as though nothing was wrong, even when he continued being strange.

For starters, he had almost nothing to unpack – as though he only planned to stay about a month or two. Everything seemed newly bought as well – unused and sterile, like a movie set.

You don’t know… maybe he was a minimalist even though he didn’t seem the type.

It shouldn't really have made your skin crawl the way it did. But whether it made sense or not, you couldn’t shake the discomfort – walking around in a constant wariness of him.

Everything about him seemed like a half-assed theatre act.

You’d see him in the lecture hall, walking from here to there, buying strawberry milk from the vending machines. His textbooks remained piled on his desk in your shared dorm room – but you’d never seen any one of them open. And when curiosity and suspicion made you flip up one of his notebooks, you found it was all blank except for a few shitty doodles on the first page. You never see him cram for exams or writing any papers. You don’t think you’ve ever even seen him pull a laptop out of his bag.

It’s like he isn't a student at all…

And something about the rest of his performance just rubs you the wrong way.

It’s as though he’s practiced all his facial expressions in the mirror – as though he’s studied social cues and body language in a human behavior manual instead of having learned them naturally. It makes you uneasy – how his smile is always a bit too wide and a bit too stiff to be genuine and how all his words are like dialogue off a script.

Somehow, it feels as though he’s wearing a second skin – hiding something… something that’s not quite right on the inside.

It grosses you out when he tries flirting with you. But you do your best to hide it. Brushing him off by changing the topic, inviting other friends when he asks to eat lunch together, laughing off his attempts as though he’s making jokes – always excusing yourself when you end up alone with him for too long.

You try to avoid him as much as you can. Pretending to study when you’re in the dorm together – and otherwise going to bed early.

He tells you he’ll see you at the party later when you leave to pregame with some friends. You can only muster a smile and a curt “Sure.” before leaving.

As for seeing each other later – you hope you don’t.

But of course you do. You can’t seem to escape him. Everywhere you go, he follows.

It doesn’t help that all your friends think he’s so hot, immediately calling him over, gushing over him as though he’s some type of celebrity. They don’t understand your reservation – if they were you, they’d have fucked him the first night of moving in together.

It’s not like you don’t find him attractive as well. You admit he is ridiculously handsome, and if the circumstances were different, you’d say you lucked out being assigned the same dorm room as him.

But as it were – he gives you the same feeling as spotting a spider.

He’s got his arm slung around your shoulder as the two of you walk back together.

He had a little bit too much to drink… And despite your thoughts about him, even you didn’t have the heart to say no when he was practically hanging off of you – cheeks dusted pink with his mothlike lashes droopy, drunkenly mumbling while blinking up at you with those awfully bright eyes, asking you to take him home and tuck him in.

“Ugh...” You sigh.

It’s a struggle carrying the nearly two-meter-tall boy, almost having to drag him down the hallway before stopping short at your door. He’s drooling on your shoulder with murmurs of sleep as you search for the key – not exactly sober yourself.

When inside, his bigger body presses you against the closed door – his face buried in the grove of your neck with slurred words.

“Dude.” You state with a grimace – as if saying his name was too much of a burden – sighing as you haul him off with the same exasperation of a parent putting an unruly child to bed.

Ducking beneath his arm, you leave him kissing the door – thinking to yourself how you really should put him to bed before he can embarrass himself any further.

You open your mouth to tell him when his temper finally makes him grab your arm a little harder than intended.

“This isn't how this is supposed to go.”

You flinch instinctively, and his grip tightens in return. “Hey?”

You can’t see his face with the way he’s got his head bowed. But you don’t like the snuff growl that passes under his breath as he utters the next words.

“Why are you so difficult?”

You do more than flinch this time, yanking yourself out of his harsh grip before he can apologize for it – taking on a deliberate offensive stance.

With your feet squared and your hands up to keep him at a distance, you look ready to try fending him off.

Something about it seems premeditated – something in the wary way you eye him. You don’t even look all that surprised – as if you had suspected this side of him existed all along and had only been waiting for it to surface.

Oddly, t feels like something you’ve kept secret from him – as though you’ve acted comfortable all this time when, in reality, you’ve been clutching your mental pearls.

He realizes then why you haven’t returned his affection – why all you’ve ever given him is cold-hearted rejection…

Of course. It’s obvious now – so obvious it’s funny. Even though he’s been the one parading around like someone else, it feels as though you’ve been doing the exact same thing around him – hiding your discomfort behind a sweet smile – hiding it so well that not even his keen eyes have picked up on it…

But it’s clear now….

You’ve both been playing a game of pretend – just a pair of perfect strangers – who've now shared their hand. Leaving you both feeling naked – raw out in the cold – just waiting for the next move.

“I guess the gig is up, huh?” He rasps, fingers twitching at his sides – looking ready to pounce.

You couldn’t defend why you'd kept the pepper spray in the drawer of your nightstand – but you were glad you had. Rushing for it, hands shaking as you pulled the handle and grabbed the bottle – twisting around and spraying it right in the face of your roommate.

He cries out from the attack, clutching his face with both hands – staggering back with a series of gruff curse words.

Still, he guards the door – preventing your escape.

The groaning turns to croaks instead, and you think he might be crying. It’s tough to see through the hands covering his eyes – but when he looks back up again, despite the red burns left by your pepper spray on his puffy teary cheeks, he’s got a smile on his face.

He’s not crying – he’s laughing – as the hand covering his face slowly drags down the crazed expression – over crazed eyes, bloodshot and wet, staring at you through the gaps between his fingers.

The look alone is enough to give you goosebumps.

But when you try to make a run for it, he grabs you again – and this time, you’re not able to shake him off. It feels as though the tight grip splinters your skin as he pulls you back – shoving you down against your bed.

“Can’t say it hasn’t been fun, roomie. But I’m not completely satisfied yet.”

He’s on top of you before you get a kick in – pinning your wrists above your head as he leans over you – bright eyes gleaming with that sickness you’d almost convinced yourself you’d been imagining. You opt to shout, but he’s soon got his other hand clasped tight over the bottom half of your face before you get a sound out.

“You were supposed to fall in love with me, you know?” His voice is airy as though he’s confessing – but also on the brink of laughter as though he’s telling a joke in class. “That’s how it goes in the movies.”

You swallow beneath his hand – eyes peeled, heart beating so hard it hurts.

His eyes wander – roaming your neck and chest. It’s awfully quiet before he speaks again. “But I suppose we can act out a different plot line...”

You whimper at his suggestive tone – already feeling the weight of his intentions bearing down on you, crushing you free of air.

“I like romcoms, but horror stories have their charm, too...”

You shudder beneath the warmth of his breath, screaming into his palm once his warm lips mouth your throat, sucking on the tender skin with tongue and teeth in between words.

“An unfortunate college student finds themself moving into the same dorm as their unhinged stalker…”

There’s a thrill in his tone – something crazed and terrifying as he goes on.

“The two play a psychological game of endurance, trying to balance college and privacy while sharing the same space...”

Something hard and gross steadily ruts against your thigh. His voice gets thicker – breath hotter on your neck. The kisses turn sloppy. Tears burn your cheeks.

“Everything seems to lead up to a party held before Spring break, a fateful night on which their endurance finally runs out.”

He groans, and you sob.

“A rejected kiss, a can of pepper spray, a shared bed. What happens next?”

JJK – Gojo, Yuta, Mahito

BNHA – Hawks, Denki, Kirishima

HQ – Miya twins

CSM – Yoshida

BLLK - Nagi

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