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#so ok but (what else am i supposed to say?) there's really no other thoughts to be had about it
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9/22/24
Ok.... so some storytime. This weekend's plans were smashed to hell and if I was in a different mental space I would have fared much much worse. But I have been focusing on boundary making and personal growth so here is what happend:
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A friend (SPECIFICALLY THE ONE Who was bugging me earlier this year about buying her diet products incessentaly) had called me in July, while drunk and with her husband on their anniversary. During this call, she asked me what I was really doing to lose the weight and insinuated that I was either a recipient of weight loss surgery or on Ozempic or some other GLP 1.
Mind you - This is a lady that I converse with daily over snapchat. Maybe not full in conversations, but she sees all my sweaty selfies, thoughts on mindset, and sometimes food. Mostly daily sweaty selfies.
The incessant requests to buy her weight loss bullshit this year drove me to the brink of getting off all social medias. How many fucking times do I need to say no. Mind you, this lady has been my friend since 2000.
So she tells me during this call, where she isn't really letting me speak, that she will be here this weekend and I should come hang out with her and her friend. Upon inquiry she divulges it is like a 30 year high school reunion thing.
Now, I want to see her because I feel like our friendship is floundering. She lives far away and I find most social media things to be unbearable.
Why? Weight loss is hard and I do better when I reduce interactions with people, because everything feels really emotionally raw. You also have people who will tell you that whatever you are doing is fucking wrong and you should be doing something else OR people who will see you changing your habits and will fight that tooth and nail. It doesn't really matter what you are doing, people will just foist their opinions on you. It is better to block all that shit out and focus on yourself.
So she invites me to 3rd wheel and I want to go because I want to see her in person. It is a 4 hour drive one way, and requires me to get all my weekend chores done before the weekend, have someone come by to check on my mom, who I am a caregiver for, and someone to watch my dogs. It also conflicts with a group fall cabin camping weekend, which I steadfastlu maintain I cannot attend because I have prior plans.
She writes and says at 5 pm the day before I am supposed to leave that "they are concerned" about the drive and that it is alot of driving for a very short visit. I read that as- Don't come.
I kind of expected this, and even tho the late hour annoyed me, I was able to wrangle myself and say, ok, hope you have a blast.
And I have heard basically nothing from her since.
So here is where I ask: Am I the asshole?
She seems to be giving me the silent treatment for not coming when she basically told me not to come. I think the real reason is- she invited me when she was drunk, to an event she planned with her other friend for their high school reunion, and didn't check with her other friend about inviting someone else.
I feel like she has been experiencing sober regret about inviting me to an event they obviously planned together without me. And she waited 2 months to say OOOOOps! Didn't mean to do that.
The other issue is- I also expected to get uninvited because I was sick and she has an autoimmune disorder.
But that is conjecture and not the reason she gave.
AITA??
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the-nysh · 10 months
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there is a theory that jjk will end with yuji all alone and raising the next limitless user ( like how denji ended csm part 1 with his gang (aki and power and makima killed)
and that yuji will be made to want to live since its important for jjk sorcerers to be selfish and have a desire for themselves
"This is the author's idea. Throughout story, we know that Itadori is ready to sacrifice himself for the sake of people close to him.
In any other story this would be considered a positive quality but in this story it is considered a weakness.
What is the most important thing for a sorcerer in the world of JUJUTSU?
The answer is selfishness.
Personal feelings and perceptions of the world affect the power of sorcerers. And this is not surprising, because even curses were created with the help of a feeling of fear.
That's why Yuji can't get stronger. He has learned to control the power he has but he has never been able to surpass his limits."
Well...I mean, ok I never actually asked for any of this but *sighs* if the current speculation is that jjk's ending's on track to be no different than csm's ending of part1, then....all this really tells me is that the more I hear about it (even thru osmosis), the more I realize I'm really not missing much after stopping both series. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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myfictionaldreams · 1 year
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Day 6: Dry Hump- James Potter
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Summary: James Potter was your best friend, and he was unequivocally in love with Lily Evans. However, he has one secret he trusts only with you: he’s never kissed anyone.
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, inexperienced James & experienced Reader, friends with benefits vibes, kissing/making out, dry humping, cumming in pants, teasing, nearly caught
Part 2 // Part 3
masterlist 📚 
kinktober masterlist😈 
AO3 Link 
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James Potter was your best friend. He had many best friends, including the other Marauders and fellow Gryffindors, but he was YOUR best friend and had been since the first year at Hogwarts. James was the one person you always ran to and shared all happy memories with; if you needed cheering up, he’d be the only one who could pull a smile to your lips. It had always been just the two of you until he became infatuated with Lily Evans.
It had been years of hearing about how wonderful Lily was, which you knew anyway as she was your friend. Finally, you convinced her to say yes to one date with James, even though she did wait until everyone was finishing their time at Hogwarts and about to graduate. He’d waited long enough, and you were thrilled to see him getting his dream date.
This was until he casually announced one day, “I’ve never kissed anyone”.
He’d mumbled it to himself under his breath. James had gone from pure exhilarated joy to fear and doubt at the weight he’d put on his shoulders for having to be the perfect date for Lily. You’d taken him to the Shrieking Shack to try and get away from everyone else so that James could blow off some steam, but all he’d done so far was sulk in his armchair and stare into the fire whilst waiting for Sirius and Remus to join after their lesson.
Then, out of the blue, he admitted his secret that he had yet to kiss anyone. A frown dawns on you as you turn away from the book in your hand to inspect the messy-haired Marauder next to you visually. “What?” you asked with a hint of uncertainty as if he was telling the truth, “How have you never kissed anyone before?” Your mind raced to all of the parties in the Gryffindor tower where most people, including yourself, had made out with others, but now that you thought about it, you’d never seen James lip-locked with anyone else.
It was James’ turn to frown as he looked at you blankly, “When would I have had time? I’ve just wanted to be with Lily, and she’s always said no when I’ve asked before. Anyway, I don’t see why you’re saying it in that tone; it’s not like you’ve been kissing loads of people”. You give James a tight-lipped smile to show that he was, in fact, very wrong with that statement. His eyes widen as he realises the truth, “Wait, you have? Since when?”
“James, how can you be shocked? I’ve kissed plenty of people before, especially during those parties with the fire whiskey that Sirius always steals for us. You wander off with the Marauders or fawn over Lily, and what am I supposed to do? Stand on my own? Absolutely not, I go and find some fun”.
Your best friend’s mouth drops open in shock. Still, he quickly covers it up by looking away grumpily, “Great, so I’m the only person in our year who hasn’t kissed anyone, and now, I’m going to take Lily out, and she’s going to refuse to see me again because I don’t know what I’m doing, we’re going to finish school, and I’ll never see her again, and I’ll die alone!”.
You couldn’t help but laugh at his over-the-top rant, shutting the book with a loud snap and facing him completely whilst still in your chair. “James, you need to chill out a bit; I’m sure it’ll be fine. Do you really think Lily’s been going around snogging loads of boys? I’m sure she’s just as inexperienced as you”.
James’ shoulders dropped in relief as he turned back towards you with hope in his hazel eyes, “Do you think so?”
Your face immediately gave it away that you’d been lying as you sighed, “Ok, I might have seen her making out with a Ravenclaw a year ago, but still, I wouldn’t worry about it! You’ll be excellent! You’re James Potter, the Gryffindor King, a founding Marauder and Gryffindor Seeker. You can sure as hell make out with Lily Evans correctly”.
The pretty Marauder smiled thankfully at your dramatic declaration, “That’s true, thanks, Sweetheart”. Relaxing back into your seat, the book returned to your hand, assuming the conversation was officially over. However, only a moment later, James is whining pathetically, “But what if I’m not good? What if I hurt her or lick her wrong or-”.
“Lick? Why are you licking her, James? I thought we were on about kissing?”
“We are! But you know, people use tongues and-”
“James, I don’t know what you want me to say; if you’re that petrified with kissing, why don’t we practice a little so you can stop freaking out”. It took you a couple of long seconds before the offer you’d just given him genuinely dawned on you. You weren’t sure why you had said it, expecting him to say no but wishing for him to calm down and thinking this was the only option.
James’ head snapped towards you, giving his full attention as he asked, “Wait, you’d do that?” He pushed himself up off the chair's arms, and his eyes were wide and hopeful again.
Lowering the book, you spoke slowly, “Yeah, sure. I mean, it’s just a kiss, and at least we’re friends, so no feelings have to be involved”.
“Yeah, that's a good point! Okay, right, so, um, how do we do this? Do I come over to you, or do we stand?”
Sighing at James, you stood abruptly, dropping the book and strutting to him with arms swinging. The marauder sits up suddenly, taking his feet off the stool he had been resting on as he stares up at you with wide eyes that you can see the whites of his eyes beneath his glasses. “What are you doing?” He questions uncertainly as you straddle his lap without a word, your knees resting on either side of his toned thighs, your fingers slipping around his neck and interlocking at the base of his skull.
“I’m going to kiss you, James. Is that alright with you?” You didn’t mean to sound sassy as you asked with a single raised questioning eyebrow, but you also needed to make sure that he was happy for this to continue.
Those two wide hazel eyes stared at your lips, licking his own to moisten as he slowly nodded, “Uh yeah, just tell me what to do.” A pang of sympathy rushed through your chest at seeing James becoming nervous, which was not usually a sight that you had to see as he was usually such a confident, happy person. You would have spent some time to explain that it was normal to be nervous during your first kiss, but you didn’t want to allow any more time for him to freak out, so loosening your intern locked fingers, you moved them to cup each of her freshly shaved cheeks and pressed your lips delicately against his. You wanted it to be quick enough that he didn’t even have time to tense, even though he did proceed to lock up as you moved back to assess his reaction.
“See, it’s not so scary. You’re supposed to enjoy this, James”. Thankfully, as your face lowered once more, he forced himself to take a steadying breath and relax the tension in his muscles as your lips caressed his.
They were softer than you’d anticipated, plump and smooth like a pillow and instantly, your eyes and his close. However, James surprised you by moving his first. His hand lifted and rested on your hip so gently that you hardly felt it until he gave your body a little squeeze to test the waters of how much he could get into the moment. So you rewarded him by pressing your face harder against his, lips beginning to move and rubbing against each other on instinct.
James even amazed himself with how naturally and quickly he could make out with you. Tilting your head, you deepened the kiss, nose pressing into his cheek so that you could smell his skin that had remnants of his aftershave, which was always spicy and woodsy. As the air became necessary, you pulled back enough to take deep, greedy breaths, now noticing he was doing the same thing but looking up at you with half-lidded eyes.
“So what did you think-”
James didn’t allow your sentence to finish as his other hand cupped along your jaw, pulling your face closer again until the two of you kissed with much more heat with the movements. His mouth opened wider to match how yours was moving against his; your heartbeat quickened as you leaned further into his tall, warm body, melting into his touch and kiss.
Then you wanted to take a risk and licked his bottom lip, which you were ultimately greeted with a praising deep groan of satisfaction that vibrated James’ entire chest and sent tingles straight to your core.
Ok, wow, you thought as James attempted and succeeded with his own lick back against your tongue; you were definitely getting turned on by this. As if he was reading your mind, James pressed harder on your hips, willing you to move down, which you did, your skirt pushing up on your thighs so that when you sat on his crotch, your panty-covered pussy was flush against the material of his trousers.
As one, the two of you pulled away from each other. Mainly because you were now sitting on his very hard erection and also because he knew you could feel his evidence of being aroused. You both stare at each other with wide, unblinking eyes, lips slightly swollen and the taste of his spit still on your tongue.
However, you didn’t want to stop and awkwardly sit back in your seat, and he wasn’t rushing to push you off, either. You were horny, and so was he. Yes, James Potter was your best friend, but that didn’t have to matter; you just wanted him to enjoy the moment and show that it wasn’t as scary as he thought.
Enough time passed, and if he didn’t want to continue, he would have said something by now, so you took the opportunity to lean back in, your thumb attempting to soothe him, stroking across his cheek in timid circles. As your mouths reconnected, your hips ground down on his crotch. You were hoping that he knew enough about anatomy to tell that the warmth from your pussy was a sign of arousal, wanting him to know you were just as turned on as he was.
You do it a few more times, rubbing back and forth with increasing pressure until James makes a pained noise that has you stopping altogether and checking in on him.
He’s looking everywhere but at you, as he apologises, “Sorry, it’s just these trousers are tight and rubbing me painfully”.
“You could just take them off”, you say once again, not thinking before you speak. James looks at you with dramatically wide eyes as he, too, realised what you’d just said. Quickly, you clarified, “I’m not saying that to have sex or anything; I just mean, we could kinda carry on doing what we are doing, but if your trousers are hurting, then just in your boxers”.
You’re surprised by his automatic response of a nod, yes, his arousal blocking all thoughts of Lily as he begins to undo his belt easily. Rising onto your knees to give him room, he pushed the offending material until his thighs were bare and his plaid boxers were on display, barely containing his length. Not wanting him to feel exposed, you lowered yourself once more, and both groaned at the contact, yours at a higher pitch as you could feel the entire outline of his cock against your cunt.
James was bigger than you’d thought and was currently pointing down his left thigh, so you angled your hips in this direction. Tilting your hips forward slightly, your clit grazed along his shaft, causing a hitch in your breath as it caused pleasure to pool in your abdomen, moisture slickening your hole with each movement.
You’re breathing just as heavily as he is, lips still moving against each other, exploring, tasting, needing more. You were kind of proud of him when he moved his face down your jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses and causing more pleasure to pulse through you. You were half tempted to rise onto your knees again to show him the evidence of your arousal that had soaked through your panties and onto his boxers, but you didn’t want it to stop.
As your fingers delved into his messy black hair to hold his face closer, he thrust his hips up against yours to add to his stimulation. He was still apprehensive, so he didn’t push too hard, but he rocked back and forth until his tip was pressed against your clothed folds. The muscular thighs beneath yours tensed with each thrust, the muscles defined from all his years of playing quidditch.
His hands remained in place, one on the opposite side of your jaw to where his mouth still kissed, and the other hand helped to move your hips back and forth in time with his own ruts. You’d never actually gotten off like this with anyone before. Usually, underwear would be removed at this point, and more direct contact could occur, but it was still exciting to have some barriers between you. The lace of your underwear was quite rough against your most sensitive area, especially your engorged throbbing clit. You were sure to be sore afterwards, especially with the amount of pressure you were rubbing against each other; with each passing second, the need to find completion made you both desperate.
As his lips found yours again, his tongue began to delve and explore the hollow of your mouth, along your palate and even over your teeth; your pussy began to clench, fire blooming in your core with the impending release.
Pulling back, your fingers moved to rest on his shoulders to hold on tighter as you quickly moaned, “Please don’t stop; I’m going to cum”.
James moaned huskily, out of breath, but both of his hands were now on your hips, moving both his hips and yours faster to find his orgasm. Resting your forehead on his, you both shared the same area, still tasting the other in your mouths, sweat beginning to coat your faces. You were sure you could feel his own wet patch against your arse cheek from where precum was dribbling from his tip and staining his underwear. 
“Ah, fuck- James!” your head tilts back as you finally orgasm, thighs shaking and pussy fluttering around nothing. However, just as you were beginning to come down from your pleasurable high, James suddenly grabbed you painfully, both arms wrapping around your waist as he sat up further on the chair, nearly knocking you off of him if it wasn't for his grip around your midsection. Reassuringly your arms wrapped around his shoulders as his face nuzzled into your chest, his body shivering as thick spurts of cum soaked his boxers.
His moans were like music to your ears and sounded slightly pathetic, making you cling to him more, attempting to run your fingers through his hair to calm the crazy style, but to no avail. Your pussy felt like it was on fire due to the rough stimulation and the untouched orgasm, but it felt so good you savoured the sensation for a few minutes whilst trying to catch your breath.
“There you go, Potter. Not only have you kissed a girl for the first time, but you’ve also made her cum”.
James laughs, loosening his grip slightly to look up at you, but then you both hear the worst noise imaginable: voices from a few floors below, especially those of Sirius and Remus. You scrambled to your feet, straightening your clothes and sitting back in your chair, picking up the book and opening it to a random page as James pulled up his trousers, both of you ignoring the bodily juices completely.
James just about had his feet back on the footstool before Sirius and Remus walked in, but both immediately halted and looked between you and James. It was Sirius who spoke first, eyes squinting in accusation, “Why do you both look so guilty right now? What did you do?”
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petew21-blog · 1 month
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Revenge possession, part 2
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"So what is this game called again?" I asked out loud with Devon's voice.
Devon in the back of our mind:"Dead by daylight. You play either as a survivor or the killer. Depending on the role you have to escape or kill all the survivors."
I chuckled a bit:"You don't see how that's ironic?"
Devon was silent. "I'm so sorry, man. Jesus, I didn't think this through. Haha. Well... you should be good in this game right?"
Me:"Not really. I kinda didn't even know I was being hunted. Your parents just picked me up and then tortured me in the woods. I didn't have much of a chance to even run."
Devon:"Oh... I'm so sorry for that, man. My parents are horrible people."
Me:"Yeah. And I know they killed much more people than just me. That's why it needs to stop"
Devon:"So are you sure that killing them would be the best revenge for all these years of their murder spree?"
Me:"What else can I do? It's not like I had much of a choice. Few days ago I didn't even have a body. Now I co-share yours. Yeah, stealing their sons body is good revenge too, but you're a good person. And I don't want to take over your life."
Devon:"Not what I was aiming for. I honestly love having you here with me. You're like a second voice/brother/best friend inside of me. Oh shit. I just figured. I keep calling you bro. What's your real name?"
Me:"Paul. Took you long to ask, man. Not cool"
Devon:"Sorry, haha. So... Paul. You're like 40 now, right?"
Me:"I would be if your parents didn't kill me. But I died when I was 21 like you are now. So my mind basically stayed 21 I suppose. Except for roaming the country I didn't have much fun through all these years. These past few days as you, just chilling here, playing video games, jerking off and talking to you is the most fun I had over these 20 years."
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Devon took control over his body to let go of the controler and to flex his biceps. The sweat hitting his nose.
Me:"What are you doing? I thought we were gonna play?"
Devon:"Nah, just reminding you what body you're in"
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Devon:"Look at me man. I have beautiful abs, massive arms. These thighs could crush a melon between them. I appreciate that you picked me and that you like my body, but you gotta do something about this. We gotta go have fun. With another living being."
Me:"Devon... I really am happy how you treat me in your body, but... I don't think we have the same type of dating pool"
Devon:"I don't care whoever you fuck. I'm straight, or atleast I think I am, but very accepting. And if my man inside of me wants to fuck some handsome man, I will be more than happy to help you out. Bros gotta help each other"
Me:"But it's gonna be your body, man."
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Devon:"So? You could do much worse with my body and you didn't. Getting fucked or fucking someone in the ass is not so bad."
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Me:"Ok? So what place do you suggest?"
Devon:"Gym. We can show everyone what this body can do. Lot of people observe me there, so you can pick whoever you desire"
We arrived to the gym. So many hot and sexy people in sight. Devon took control to do his normal routine. It sucks that I could also have a body like this, but back in the day I wanted to see the world. I wanted to be myself in a world that hates my kind. Twenty years later, the world is so much more accepting. It's not ideal, but wow. How things gave changed
I still can't believe that Devon let's me stay in his body. I mean, look at him. He could be anything, have anyone. And yet this hot piece of meat is depressed with his easy life, being alone most of the time. I guess that's what happens when your serial killer parents move your family every now and then. You don't have any friends and those that you did might already be dead by their hand. How horrible... I honestly can't wait to see them. To look them in their face. With their son's face and to kill them. I hope Devon will forgive me. I know he says he wants to stop them, but it's his parents. I just have to make sure that he will not stop me when the time comes
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Devon was just finishing up, when a cute twink approached us.
The guy:"Hey, I hope you don't mind that I was watching you"
Devon:"Nah, it's ok man. You need a hand with lifting?"
The guy smiled. "Oh I do need a hand, I just don't know If I asked the right person"
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Devon sat down, looking all confused:"That depends if..."
I stopped Devon mid sentence. "I think that's a cue for me to take over, ok?"
Devon now in the back of my mind:"Sorry man, I usually don't respond to guys hitting on me. Go on. Have fun"
I smiled at the guy and casually finished the sentence
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We headed to the showers. The owners must be probably sick with all these guys hooking up here. But we didn't care. We made out passionately. The twins was all over my muscles, as I would be in his place too. He was a bit smaller. That gave me a sense of dominating him.
I stopped and smiled at the guy. "I... just gotta let you know that I am a virgin"
Devon:"What!!! Dude, you never had sex with anyone?"
The guy looked at me from top to bottom. "You? If good looking people like you are virgins, then I have no idea how world works."
I chuckled nervously. It was true. I was 21 when I died, but back then it was much harder to date a find gay guy. Now you can just download Grindr and in a few minutes you got yourself a guy in your bedroom
Twink:"Well in that case we can go to your place and have some fun there. This isn't a very nice place to have your first time, don't you think"
I just smiled and nodded in approval
We were now in Devon's messy room. The guy was really shocked to see such a straight man cave, but didn't say a word. We made out. He took off my shirt soaked in sweat from gym. His lips now kissed my neck and went to over my pecs, down the middle to my waist band. He took my hard dick into his hand, squeezed hard and looked me deep into my eyes. His look was so full of lust, yet I could tell it was superficial. This guy isn't looking for romance. He just wants to be fucked hard. So let's give it to him
I took a bit of control of the moment. I grabbed him by the neck. Turned him around and pressed him against the wall. He was now moaning in pleasure as I was rubbing my hard dick hidden beneath the layers of my clothes against his ass. I was still holding him, choking him.
I pulled of my shorts and his just low enough to get my dick in there. I wanted to push it right in there. As hard as I could
Devon suddenly screamed out from the back of his mind:"Condom dude!!!"
I left the guy, moanjng against the wall, reaching out to the condom on the shelf. I was struggling to find which side to pick to put it on my dick
Twink:"Wait. Let me" it was obvious he jas done it a few times. The condor was on in a matters of seconds. "Do you have any lube?"
Devon intervened again:"Top drawer. Give him more attention, man. You're making it all about yourself"
"Shut up" I said out loud as a response to Devon, but the guy looked confused. "Oh sorry, not you. I'm just nervous. I have lube right here."
The guy went on Devon's bed on his back. His clothes were now gone and his ass was welcoming my dick. His legs wide open.
I pressed lightly my dick with a ridiculous ammount of lube on top.
It went smoothly so I tried to went all the way. This seemed to hurt the twins. "Hold your horses. I'm good, but not that good. A bit slower, cowboy."
I went in slowly. The pleasure got to Devon too. The way this guys ass was tight around the head of our dick was sending our minds to heaven.
I picked up the pace. The twink was moaning in pleasure and in pain at the same time. I grabbed him by the next to choke him. My other arm pressing his thigh.
Twink:"Harder!" I thought I was going as hard as possible, but I didn't think he could take it much more
Twink:"Harder!!!"
Devon:"Oh, jesus. Let me do it" Devon took over. I was in the back of our mind again. Still feeling everything.
Devon was like a beast, but the twink was really enjoying it.
I could feel all the cum building up. Ooh there's gonna be tons of cum.
Devon was biting his lower líp and furiously pounding this guy's ass. Sure, "Straight" my ass.
Devon:"I'm cumming!!!"
Twink:"Fill me! I want it all"
Devon shot out the stream of cum into the condom. The wave of pleasure was so overwhelming. So much, that I lost control for a moment. I didn't know what was happening.
I opened my eyes. Still as Devon. Good. But I was back in control. But I was alone here. I couldn't feel Devon
"DEVON?!?"
Twink:"Right here. You pushed my soul out of my body, dude. If the guy here wasn't as welcoming you would have me erased or something"
Me:"I'm so sorry. I didn't think that would happen."
Devon:"It's fine. This guy's soul is asleep or maybe gone? I don't know. But I can't hear him now. Dude! I could feel my body's orgasm and his orgasm at the same time. I can assure you, that this is definitely the best I'll ever feel. So overwhelming."
Me:"Shit, dude. We gotta figure out how to get you put of there. Or you might be stuck"
Devon:"What if we wait for a bit? I kinda wanna try having sex with my body."
Me:"Kinky. You wanna get pounded too?"
Devon:"Guess I'm not so straight anymore, right?"
After our first fucking session, Devon passed out from all the sex. We still didn't know where this guy's soul was, but we would figure that out soon. I was just happy that I was finally alive. And I even have a boyfriend now? If that's what I can call Devon. Not to put labels on our relationship or anything
I grabbed the first pair of shorts from the floor I could find. Still sweaty from the sex, I headed to the kitchen to get myself a drink of water.
I was interrupted by a dark figure in the corner of the room
"Hello, son"
I was full of rage. But I can't fuck it up now. If I kill him, I won't know where his mom is and that would take me another decade to find her.
"Hey, dad. How was your holiday"
"Oh wonderful. Rome is your mother's favourite place to visit"
I tried to act as much as possible. Devon was in his room in a wrong body, so that wouldn't help me.
"Did you go to Colosseum this time?"
"Oh, we sure did." The father responded. But in the matter of seconds his expression changed. He was now holding a gun pointed at me
"What are you doing, dad?!"
"Devon knows we went to Bahamas"
Fuck. So he knew all along that I'm not Devon. But how?
"Me and my wife found out that the folk like you, who want to have your revenge for what we did, come back as ghosts to make our lives a living hell."
"So I'm not the first one?"
"Hahaha. Of course you're not. The first one came when Devon was 2 years old. Of course he doesn't remember, but that was a nasty one. All the paranormal stuff. We didn't know what we were dealing with back then. But now, oh we are used to deal with you. But possessing Devon is a first. Some possessed us and tried to kill us, but obviously failed."
"How can you tell that I'm not him? Besides the question."
"Oh it's an aura thing. Once you have the experience and a good guidance, you can just tell when a soul isn't in their rightful place."
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"Now, tell me. Did Devon put up a lot of fight? Your answer will change the course of your torture."
"Devon is ok. He's in the body of the guy downstairs. It was an accident"
"Sure it was. That would make sure that we couldn't kill you or him, right? We're not so stupid, mister. Although I will not enjoy killing my son, there is no other choice."
"If you kill me, I will go after you even more. I have for the past 20 years and I will even after you die. My soul will not rest until you burn in hell"
"Sure you can do that, but it will take you some time to get out of this thing."
He was holding a wooden object with symbols
"What is that thing?"
"That mister, is your prison. It will bind you inside, until it breaks, or someone opens it on purpose. Which happens rarely if you ask me."
"You're doing a big mistake. Devon is in his room in a different body. Let him atleast get his body back."
"I can't take that chance. Me and my wife have a life to live up to and we won't stop just because our son got himself in some trouble and can't handle it."
"It's your son! You would kill him just so you can continue your killing spree?"
"Oh, definitely. Having a child is a great thing, but taking a life. That's something you won't ever forget about. The control it gives you."
"You're sick. No parent would ever do this to their child"
From the hallway a second voice spoke:"Oh these two are a chatty couple, right honey? So chatty chatty. But we need to hurry up, so get on with this" the mother said towards her husband
I could feel a horrible pain in my chest. Feelings very similar to the ones I felt 20 years ago. This couple was killing me again
"Sorry Devon. We couldn't have done anything" father said
"Devon hates you too!" I screamed out
"You're talking too much" and then nothing.
I don't know for how long this continued. I don't even know what they did with Devon's beautiful body. How they got rid of it.
Soon I started to feel walls around me. Walls? As a ghost I wouldn't be able to. Except if this is their prison that they were talking about.
I opened my eyes. There was only darkness. Nothing else. I looked around and on the other side of my prison was someone sitting, crying.
I got up to approach this person. He looked up
It was Devon. He was crying
"Paul! They killed me. My own mother slit my throat. I told her it's me. But she just killed me and trapped me into thus thing."
"I'm so so sorry, Devon. I never wanted any of this. I wanted revenge for them. But they were ready. They knew. Your father didn't listen to me too. He didn't care. I told him about your soul. But they are more sadistic then I thought"
"Paul, I'm dead. My parents killed me. My OWN PARENTS!"
"Devon, they are horrible people. And we will get our lives back. Maybe not our old lives, but we will. But first we have to get out of here. We're gonna get through this together. Ok?"
Devon collapsed into my arms. I was just glad that I could hold someone even if I was a ghost now. We were gonna get out of here, but I had no idea how
Outside of the ghost trap, the world went by.
Devon's father held the trap tightly as he watched his old house burn. His wife held her head on his shoulder.
"Ahhh, I think I might miss Devon. He gave our life some order"
"He limited us. We couldn't ve ourselves all the time. Now we can. What do you say we go pick up some hitchhiker?"
"Ohhhh, that's a lovely idea. Get rid of that box, it gives me the creeps"
And as the two of them were laughing while leaving, the box was sinking deeply into the river below the bridge until some human would find it.
If Paul and Devon would know what was happening to then right now, they would be devastated.
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salvatwh0re · 1 year
Text
I have officially mastered the void
So this morning (afternoon actually) i decided to tap into the void so I did the 61 points yoga nidra meditation with a subliminal. I didn’t really need the subliminal I was just using it cause my headphones are somewhat noise cancelling and my family was awake so I didn’t want to get distracted. But the meditation was really relaxing. At first I had some trouble staying focused but then I reminded myself why I was doing this and what I was doing it for. So it kept me motivated. After that i affirmed a little bit then I counted down from 100 and then I affirmed some more then I got bored of affirming so i started visualizing and then I got bored of that so I just decided to focus on the darkness behind my eyelids.
I never really took that advice from people when they said it helped cause I didn’t believe them but it actually worked. Out of everything else I did that was the one thing that sent me straight to the void. I think for the most part it was just letting go of that desperate feeling i always have when I try to enter. I always feel like I’m forcing myself to do it so I just let go and kind of forgot about what I was doing while still keeping that intention.
I was getting pretty anxious tho because of the time so I just got out but i did it again and it sent me straight to the void again. So now I know the secret to getting into the void is to just let go of that desperation and to stop forcing yourself, just let it happen. If you feel you’ve affirmed enough stop affirming, if you feel you’ve focused on your breathing enough, go back to your automatic breathing pattern STOP FORCING YOURSELF IT WILL GET YOU NOWHERE!!
and I know a lot of people stress about not being aware in the void and not affirming for your desires but stressing over that is exactly what’s going to make you forget tbh. When you let go of that desperation you let go of those other doubts too, those things that were stopping you from getting there in the first place. I feel like removing yourself from those thoughts is really effective in getting you what you want.
I will say it might help to have a list of things you want either written down or set in your mind because it will be a lot easier to remember what you’re going to affirm. When you’re in the void or even before you tap in completely you’re supposed to be super relaxed so it might be a little difficult to bring up those thoughts but because of how different the void is from the 3D it’s kind of hard to forget. Especially if you’ve been trying for a long time.
The void isn’t really something you question, you know for sure you’re in cause you can’t hear feel see taste or smell anything so it’s pretty identifiable. And because you’ve reminded yourself over and over that that’s what the void feels like, once you feel it you’re going to be like OHHH ok now i know to affirm for my desires. You’ve been training your brain to associate the void with your desires so of course once you recognize that you’re in you’re going to remember to affirm for your desires.
Also I don’t really like using the term void personally, but it’s what I learned it as. I feel like calling it the void just makes it sound so otherworldly and extraterrestrial and scary tbh. I think that’s what was holding me back as well, fear. I know that Neville Goddard refers to it as the I AM state which is a perfect name for it because it really is a state of just BEING like you’re not worried about anything else other than yourself and that’s the beauty of it. I would go on more cause there’s so much I can say but overall i hope you just let you go of that desperation so that you can finally push through and get everything you’ve been wanting because you deserve it.
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silentglassbreak · 2 months
Note
ok bestie I have a request for my delulu self mwuah
my scenario:
Noah’s your hot neighbor, lives in the apartment across the hall. you’ve really only spoken in passing— to exchange pleasantries and phone numbers, just in case— but you did have takeout with him and his rowdy group of guy friends (Folio, Ruffilo, and Jolly, who else?) when he was first moving in. a thank you for moving one single box (that’s all they let you touch before one of them was grabbing it out of your hands). Noah mumbles something about him not about to let “his pretty new neighbor carry his shit.”
one night you touch yourself to the thought of him, you might moan his name 🤭— he’s not even home half the time, what are the chances he’d hear you? except he does. because he’s home and the walls are thin. and your phone dings with his text.
want some help, sweetheart? ft. Noah sleeping over please!!!
preferably anonymous other than x fem!reader but I like pet names!!! sweetheart, baby, angel are my favorites <33
I know it’s a lot of details, you don’t have to include them all, it’s more so to give you an idea of the vibe 💖💖 utterly filthy but still he’s still a softie and a sweetheart
thank you this is actually so cool of you mwuah
Mmmm we love a good hot neighbor trope, yeah? What a cutie patootie he is, eh?
Mkay, let’s get into this.
After Writing Notes: This man will be the death of me…
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: smut, dirty talk, Noah being an absolute munch 😜
Skin
“Good morning, Angel.” His deep voice rings in my ears, and there he is, as he always is, sitting on his balcony, joint in his hand, guitar perched against the rail. He’s likely writing again, but Christ, does he have to always be out there at 7AM? I hate being up this early, and am never in the mood to speak to anyone.
I just want to sip my coffee, clear my cobwebs, and mentally prepare for my workday. The shop is packed, and my books are completely full, my first session starting at 9AM. I don’t have time for his early-bird antics today, nor the patience.
“Morning.” I grumble between sips of steaming hot coffee.
“Sleep well?” He pushes his joint out in the ashtray, careful not to damage it, obviously saving it for later.
“Mmph.” Is all I can muster while leaning back in my chair, pulling my sweater tighter around me. The crisp October morning has brought about hues of orange and amber in the trees surrounding the building. My favorite time of year.
“Busy day today? Must be if you’re up at this hour.”
I sigh heavily, eyes darting to him. His pale yellow hoodie and black beanie look so perfectly placed.
Noah is attractive, there is no arguing it, but he’s annoying. He’s always so positive and chipper. His friends are always over, as upbeat as he is. They’re in a band, and to be fair, they aren’t bad. They just like to start practicing at 10AM, on Sundays, which are the only days I get to sleep in.
I like them. On occasion, they’ll invite me over for pizza and to watch hockey, which I usually accept. None of them have ever been creepy or made a pass at me, which is so refreshing.
Noah does some mild flirting, using pet names instead of my actual name. Nick let it slip once that it’s because his ex has the same middle name as my first name, and that bugs him. He would rather not associate me with someone like her. I suppose that’s fair, so I’ve let it go. They’re all sweet, non-provocative names anyway.
“All booked today.” I slipped out.
He nodded. “I plan to schedule with you soon.”
I rolled my eyes. “You say that every week, Noah.”
His guitar was now dutifully placed on his lap, his fingers strumming a slow melody. “True, but the struggling musician lifestyle doesn’t exactly come with a wad of cash.”
I smirked. “Told you I’d discount you.”
“Discount as in…free?” I chuckled.
Despite hating his early routine, he usually did manage to perk me up in the mornings.
I stood up, opening the sliding door and slipping inside. “Keep dreamin’, champ.”
-
The day had been absolutely brutal. My wrists were still vibrating from holding my machine the entire day. I had hoped my last client would be done two hours earlier, but he had to keep taking breaks. Because of that fact, my hands were extra tired, and there was no way I could finish my sketch in preparation for tomorrow’s client, so I had to wake up early again.
Slinging my bag over the back of the couch, I huffed out a groan as I slumped down onto it. Days like today were becoming more and more frequent, and I was exhausted. I needed to clear my books for a week and have a staycation. Do nothing and see no one.
Heaving myself up, I made my way to the bathroom, taking my hair out of the tight bun it had been kept in all day. My fingers scrubbed at my scalp before I turned the water of the shower on.
I let my wrists and hands sit under the scalding spray for what felt like hours, just trying to loosen the joints. Afterwards, I massaged a brutal amount of lidocaine cream on them to ease the tension.
Pouring myself a glass of red wine, I stepped out onto my balcony with my favorite sweatshirt and the latest book my sister had recommended to me. It was a love story with very light smut, so she figured I’d enjoy it. If only she had known the types of stories I read regularly.
Still, I humored her.
Flipping on my porch light, I leaned back on my chair and pulled a blanket from my basket over me, covering my bare legs.
“Hey, sweetheart.” I startled, nearly spilling wine all over the pages.
“Jesus Christ, Noah!”
He chuckled. “I’m sorry, I thought you saw me.”
“No, gosh you almost gave me a stroke.”
His eyes peered over the separating railing at me. “Whatcha reading?”
I snorted, taking a gulp of my wine. “Some romance novel my sister keeps bugging me to read.”
He nodded his chin at this, not verbally responding. I noted the beer in his hand, and his eyes peering out at the city below.
I didn’t know Noah well at all. In fact, I knew so little that it was almost freaky, given that I saw him all the time. That’s the price I pay for being closed off. I do, however, know that he doesn’t drink much at all, and typically only does when something is bothering him.
“You okay?” I closed my book around my fingers so as to not lose my place.
He didn’t look up at me or respond, just took a pull from his beer.
No quips or witty remarks? This was even more unlike him.
“Bad day?”
He nodded.
“Want to talk about it?” He didn’t say no, but he didn’t say anything. He just sighed heavily. I pursed my lips, watching as his eyes stayed trained on the lights flickering off in the distance of Los Angeles, entranced in his own mind.
Then an idea sparked. “Oh! I know!” I set my book down, and stood up. He looked at me, finally. “Stay there! I know what you need!”
He quirked an eyebrow and took another swig from his bottle. I ran inside, grabbing the grocery bag inside my work tote, the goodies still untouched from my way home. When I came back out, I reached in the bag, pulling out the yellow package.
“Catch.” I chucked it at him, which he caught one handed. He scanned the bag, and smiled.
“All pink and red Starburst.” He looked back up at me. “You know what I needed.”
I smirked, pulling my other candy out of the bag, Sweettart Ropes, and began munching. He popped the bag of his own candy open and began unwrapping the tiny cubes.
“Now do you want to talk about it?”
Looking down at the wrapper balled up in his hand, he sighed hard, chewing the soft candy.
“We met with our label today.” His beanie from earlier was still on his head, perfectly placed. “They want us to join a tour.”
I chewed my ropes, speaking around the candy in my mouth. “And that’s bad? I thought that was part of being a band? Isn’t that how you make good money?”
He nodded, drinking more of his beer. “It can be, but I’m nervous. And they’re pressuring us.”
“What do you have to be nervous for? You’re super talented.”
He looked over, raising a suspicious eyebrow. “When have you ever heard our music?”
I scoffed. “Every Sunday morning through the paper thin walls.”
This made him laugh, which was a nice sound in comparison to his previously somber tone.
“I just recently started working on my vocals. Our early stuff was mostly all screaming. This last album has singing, though. I don’t feel ready to perform that live.”
I nodded. “Well, you practice, I know that.”
“Yeah, but it’s not that simple. I’ve got to know I can do it. I can’t second guess myself or I fuck up. I know it.” He sighed hard, setting the candy and beer on his table, and pressed the heel of his palms into his eyes.
“Mm,” I swallowed my candy. “is it a crowd thing?”
“I’m not really sure.” He rested his elbows on his knees. “I feel like it’s a being put on the spot, thing? I don’t know.”
I mulled this around. “I see.” I played with the idea in my brain before speaking. “So sing to me.”
His eyes shot up. “What?”
“Sing to me, Noah. Right here, right now.”
“The fuck? I can’t just do that.” He looked bewildered.
“Why not? It’s about being put on the spot. So sing to me.”
Noah stared at me as if I was insane. “What do I even sing? I don’t know any Taylor Swift songs.”
I scrunched my nose up at that. “Gross. No thank you.” He chuckled at that. “Sing me something of yours.”
He shook his head. “You won’t like our music.”
“Sure I do! I know you sing one about lions? Sing me that one!”
He all out laughed then. “The one about lions? Are you kidding?!”
I joined in on his laughter. “It’s the only one I remember.”
He groaned. “You’re serious?”
I sat back in my chair, chewing my candy, silently making it clear I was dead serious. He rolled his eyes and stood up.
“Hang on.” He disappeared inside. I took a large gulp of my wine, and waited.
He returned a few minutes later with his acoustic guitar, the one he usually had in the mornings. He also had taken off his beanie and sweatshirt, his tattooed arms and freshly cut hair on display. Were his arms always so muscular? No, he had definitely been working out.
“Alright, I’ll play you the one about lions, but please don’t laugh if I go off-key?”
I leaned forward, glass in hand, giving him my full attention. “Never.”
He sighed, and strummed the opening riffs of the song. It was slower, and sadder than when I had heard him practice it.
“You set me up as a villain, but you never mentioned the root of the problem. Took what you wanted and flipped it, but you won’t be dragging my name to the bottom.”
Noah’s voice was melodic, perfectly on key.
“So much unsaid. Left me for dead. I won’t forget.”
The song sounded more powerful in this style.
“Well everyone’s listening. And they know the difference. You’re not failing our senses.”
His fingers stopped strumming for a beat.
“If you’re throwing me to the lions, you should know I’m not scared of dying. I wouldn’t take back one thing I did. One word I said, but I’m going to make you wish you did.”
I smiled at the chorus, now remembering why I remember the lions.
“Jump to conclusions, they fall for illusions, but you weren’t there trying to stop them. You’re going low at the end of the road, but that won’t be the path that I follow.”
I finished my wine, setting the glass down and intertwining my fingers.
“So much unsaid, left me for dead. I won’t forget.”
He stopped strumming again, and I noticed he had his eyes closed. He hadn’t opened them once.
“Well everyone’s listening. And they know the difference. You’re not failing our senses.”
“If you’re throwing me to the lions, you should know I’m not scared of dying. I wouldn’t take back one thing I did. One word I said. But I’m going to make you wish you did.”
The chord progression changed leading into the bridge.
“I’m holding on to this until the scale’s untilted.”
He stopped, his pitch rising.
“Well everyone’s listening, and they know the difference. You’re not failing our senses, but you’re pushing my limits.”
“If you’re throwing me to the lions, you should know I’m not scared of dying. I wouldn’t take back one thing I did. One word I said. Oh-whoa.”
I leaned back in my chair, thoroughly enjoying this private show I was receiving.
“If you’re throwing me to the lions, you should now I’m not scared of dying. I wouldn’t take back one thing I did. One word I said. Oh God, I’ll make you wish you did.”
He strummed the final chord and opened his eyes. I was smiling from ear to ear. I clapped my hands together, which made him blush.
“Oh stop.” He set his guitar down, leaning back in his chair and grabbing his beer.
“That was fantastic, Noah!”
He shook his head. “It was okay. I wasn’t on key the entire second chorus.”
I rolled my eyes. “Are you always this hard on yourself?”
He smirked. “Always.”
“Please tell me that song is called Lions.”
This made him genuinely laugh. He shook his head. “It’s called Limits.”
“Mm, close enough.” He smirked at me.
“You really liked it?”
I nodded in response. “I did. It was really beautiful.”
His eyebrow raised and his thumb traced the rim of the beer bottle.
“You’re really beautiful.”
My stomach dropped clean out of my body, and my expression stilled. He didn’t waver, however, staring at me with a stern expression.
“Thank you.” Was all I could manage to say.
He nodded in acknowledgement, throwing back the bottle and tossing it into the trash can next to his table.
“Well, it’s past my bedtime. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
I smiled. “Bright and early.”
He grinned back. “Goodnight, Angel.”
“Goodnight, Noah.”
-
I tossed and turned in bed, sleep being the farthest thing from me. I had to get some rest, as I had to be up in less than eight hours, but even the wine hadn’t been able to wash the day off of me.
To be honest, the melody of the song kept ringing through my brain, the image of Noah strumming his guitar flashing past my eyelids.
His arms are so big. He’s actually kind of…buff? He didn’t look like that when he moved in. As much as I loved his long hair, the short hair was so fitting on him, falling loose by his ears.
Before I could stop myself, my hand was snaking down into the waistband of my shorts, fingers ghosting over the top of my clit. An orgasm should help me sleep, right?
As much as I know my rose would make quick work of this, the idea of having another vibrating object in my hand made my wrists ache. I opted to just take my time, fingers circling my sweet spot, and let myself indulge in the idea of my hot neighbor, fingers running over the string of the guitar. Arms flexing when he moved his hand up and down the neck. Throat constricting as the lyrics flowed out of his plump lips.
I could feel myself getting into the idea, my body sinking comfortably into the mattress. Lips parting, I pictured him on the other side of the walls. What did he look like shirtless? Was his chest as muscular as his arms? Did his tattoos spread all the way to his chest?
My fingers applied more pressure, making me squirm, and a soft breath left my lips. I wanted to be quiet, but I was alone. Did it matter?
Noah is likely sleeping, so I doubted that he would be able to hear anything.
I let a moan escape, letting one finger dip between my lips and feel how the moisture had built up at the thought of him. My pussy ached at the idea of his hands, long fingers pressing into me. I would bet he could hit my sweet spot with the first knuckle. I gasped hard, my hips bucking at the thought.
“Oh fuck.” I groaned, my mind drifting even further.
If his fingers were that long, how long was the rest of him? Did his cock size up to his gargantuan stature? What would it feel like? Would it hurt? Would it stretch? Likely, given I hadn’t been intimate with anyone for at least eight months. Would riding him be possible?
“Mmm,” I licked my lips at the image. “God, Noah.”
His name slipped out, and for a split second, I almost blushed, until I remembered it was just me.
That is, until I hard my phone chime on my nightstand.
I groaned, stilling my hand and growling. I was so close, and now it was gone. I snatched my phone, but my body froze when I saw the text on my screen.
Noah: Having fun over there, sweetheart?
My brain melted, completely mortified. Why was he awake?! He went to bed an hour ago!
I couldn’t respond, wishing I could sink into a hole in the mattress and disappear.
His type bubble appeared, and my heart rate sped up.
Noah: You’ve been at it a little while. Sounds like you may need a hand?
What do I even say to that? Am I okay with that? The heat between my legs screamed at me, telling me to take him up on his offer, but my brain put the brakes on.
We are neighbors. Did I want to change that dynamic? Did I want to tempt the fates?
I’m not, and have not been, in a place where I wanted to be in any kind of relationship/situationship/friends with benefits agreement right now. What did inviting him over mean?
Or was it that deep? Did I need to think about it that hard?
Me: Back door’s unlocked.
My finger hovered over the send button for a good 30 seconds before finally getting the nerve to press send. Once I had, I practically threw my phone across the room in hysteria.
What had I done?
After a moment, I heard a sound of a mattress creaking and shifting, and the sound of his sliding door.
Holy fuck.
My room was pitch black, so the light trailing in to the room from the moonlight was disrupted when his tall silhouette appeared. The door slid open smoothly, and he stepped in.
Instinctively, I reached over and tapped on the lamp on my bedside table, propping myself up on my elbows.
There he stood, hair just slightly messy from his pillow, shorts hanging low on his hips, and no tshirt.
Well, that answers my question. His chest and abdomen were covered in colorful, beautiful tattoos. Behind them, his muscles were chiseled and tight.
“You good, angel?”
He stood, and leaned his back against the wall, arms behind his back.
I guess my expression had been confusing, so I shook my head.
“Yeah, just a little embarrassed.”
This made him smile. “You shouldn’t be.”
“No? How much did you hear?”
With this, he pushed off the wall, taking a few steps to the bed, sinking down on the edge next to my leg.
“Oh, not too much.” His hand reached out and his palm ran over my duvet. “Just you moaning my name.”
His eyes flicked up at me from under his lashes.
That was it. I was dead. My face turned a deep crimson and I threw my head back, pulling the pillow over it, praying it would just suffocate me.
This made him chuckle. “What’s wrong?”
“That’s humiliating!”
He snorted. “I find it extremely flattering.”
“Oh, I’m sure you do.” My words were muffled by the pillow.
“You know, you could’ve just asked me to come over.”
I pulled the cover from my face and scoffed. “Oh sure.” I put my hand up to my ear to mimic a telephone. “Hey Noah! I know we’ve never had any kind of sexual contact - ever - but would you by chance come by and help me get off so I can get some sleep, since I can’t seem to quit thinking about you?”
“Sounds good to me, I don’t see the problem.” His smile was so mischievous. I couldn’t help but sheepishly grin.
“Noah-“
He cut me off. “How many times have you touched yourself while thinking of me?”
My mouth hung open. “This is the first time…”
He nodded, his hand sliding along the blanket and closer to my leg underneath.
“What changed?”
I shook my head. “What do you mean?”
“We’ve lived next door for six months. Why are you attracted to me now, all of a sudden?”
“I’ve always found you attractive.”
He smirked, his hand slipping up over my calf, applying a small pressure. My skin tingled.
“Then the feeling is mutual.” He sighed, looking up at me. “But tonight was different?”
“I just…” I shrugged, rolling onto my side, which pushed my body closer to him. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you singing. Playing the guitar.”
His hand moved up, sliding to my hip and resting there. “Ah, okay. So I serenaded you, and you couldn’t resist?”
This made me giggle. “Gosh, you’re such a dork.”
He snickered, scooting himself closer to me. “Mm, maybe. But it doesn’t change the fact that you were thinking about me.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
Suddenly, the air was thick, and he was leaning closer to me. I leaned my head back, giving him full view of my face. When he was close enough that I could feel his breath brushing across my lips, his eyes searched mine.
“This can just be a one-night thing if you want?”
I bit my bottom lip, and nodded gently.
I felt the skin of his lips press into me as my eyes closed, and I molded, form-fitting to him easily. He shifted, his body laying sideways next to me. Noah’s hand reached up and grasped the side of my face, pulling my body in closer to him.
I couldn’t feel or hear anything but the sound of his soft breathing against me, and the pressure of his hips pressing directly against mine.
His hand fell from my face and grabbed my leg by the back of the knee, hiking my leg up to hook on his hip, pulling my body into him even further. The press of his erection behind his shorts provided the sweetest friction against my pussy, still clothed by my shorts.
He groaned into my mouth, and I bucked my hips against him, begging for more contact.
Making out with Noah was more fun than I had imagined. He licked at my tongue, and I tasted the mint toothpaste he had used right before bed. His lips made the most delicious sounds when they sucked and pulled on mine, it had my head twirling in so many different directions.
All of my fantasies were replaying in my brain. His hands, his arms, his chest. My hands began wandering down his body, feeling every last ridge of muscle he had. I felt the ripple of his skin when he flexed, his body so warm and inviting.
He pulled his lips off of mine to look down at me, eyes dark and full of what had to be desire.
“What do you want me to do?”
What kind of question was that? Wasn’t it obvious?
“What?” I felt as though I was missing some hidden meaning.
He shifted, his body now looming over me, and I laid back flat on the bed so I could look directly at him.
“What…” He leaned down to kiss my lips. “do…” Kiss to my jaw. “you…” Kiss to my throat. “want me…” Kiss on my collarbone. “to do?”
I was panting, my need to feel him against my skin causing a hot burn everywhere I couldn’t.
“I, uh” His lips were attached to my neck, nipping and sucking on the skin of the tattoo etched there. “I don’t know. I just need to feel you.”
He pulled back, eyebrow raised, and smirked.
“Well,” He huffed a breath, running a finger down the skin of my chest above the tank top I wore. “I could pull this off of you.” His hand palmed over my breasts, his thumb tracing around my hard nipple. “Suck on these until you’re begging me for more.”
His eyes glanced up at me, and I just stared at him, eyes blown wide, trying to beg with my stare.
“Or…” His hand lifted off of my chest, and swiftly reached down, grabbing hold of the waistband of my shorts. “I could bury myself between those thighs,” My legs shook at the thought. “and lick you until you’re begging me to stop?”
My hand tightened on his sides, my hips pressing up toward him.
He leaned down again, licking a stripe up my throat. “Then, when you’re a hot, shaking, whining mess, I could fuck you until you can’t see straight.”
I moaned, his hand slipping down to tangle in the small patch of hair I had above on my pubic bone. “How’s that sound, baby girl?”
“So fucking good.” I felt his lips smile against my throat.
“You’ve made it easy for me. You’re not even wearing panties.”
I huffed out a small laugh, letting my eyes fall closed. “Yeah, well maybe I was hoping this would happen.”
“Is that right?” His kisses were moving down my body, his hand pulling my breasts free from my shirt. “Knowing you were over here thinking of me had me so fucking hard, sweetheart. You have no fucking idea.”
Noah’s tongue began circling around my left nipple while his hand massaged the other, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin.
He only focused on my chest for a moment before moving downward, leaving a trail of kisses and bites down my stomach, leaving a particularly hard one on my hipbone.
“So fucking sexy, angel. I won’t lie, I’ve thought about you before.” His fingers pulled my shorts down and off with no hesitation, his body settling between my legs.
“I’ve touched myself, dreaming about this gorgeous fucking pussy.” Noah placed a soft, gentle kiss on my inner thigh. “I can see how wet you are from thinking about me, baby. I hope you’re fucking ready.”
I didn’t have time to question what that meant, as his lips were now attached to my clit, the tip of his tongue circling it expertly while his lips sucked hard. My back arched off of the bed, the sensation nearly knocking me sideways.
“Fuck!” I screamed out, hand burying itself in his dark brunette hair. “Oh my God, Noah.”
“That’s it, gorgeous,” He licked at me, lapping up the fluid pooling between my lips. “fuck my face, pretty girl.”
My hips rutted forward, pressing myself into his lips harder. His arms circled my thighs, locking me into place while his mouth absolutely ravaged me at my core.
My entire body was vibrating, my eyes locked on his beautiful face, eyes closed and so focused.
I could feel myself beginning to crest on the edge of my orgasm, and his name came out as a string of prayers off my lips.
“Ugh, Noah…Noah…Noah…”
Without warning, he lifted me hips off of the bed, bringing himself to kneel on the mattress, so only my upper back and head were left on the pillows. The angle brought an entire new level of sensation. His tongue assaulted my clit, flipping back and forth from kitten licks to long, flat strokes, making me dizzier with each repetition.
“Noah, I’m going to come.” I breathed out, and his eyes opened, looking directly at me. His head began to move back and forth ever so slightly, him now locked onto my sweet spot. The ministrations sent me so far over the edge, I felt as though my entire body was floating.
“Oh fuck! Noah! Jesus fuck!”
He didn’t stop, however. Although he was licking me carefully through my climax, he didn’t show signs of slowing down…
“It’s sensitive. Please, I can’t take anymore.”
He disconnected from me for a second to smile deviously. “Sure you can.” And he continued.
“No, please, it’s too much.” I could feel tears welling in my eyes.
He pulled off of me, laying me back down, with a glint in his eye and a smirk on his lips. “The safe word is lions. Use it if you need it.” And he was back to it, making my vision go white.
“Noah, oh God, I can’t handle it, please!”
“You can, and you will.” His voice was factual, leaving no room for argument.
Just as I was about to protest again, I felt his tongue stop, and a sinfully long finger pressed into me, bringing about an entirely new sensation.
“Jesus Christ.” I was struggling to breathe.
“That’s it, baby. You’re so good, taking it all the way in. You’re so fucking perfect.”
My walls tightened around him at his words.
“It’s so fucking tight, baby. I’m almost worried it’s going to hurt when I fuck my name out of your mouth…” He looked up again, pressing a second finger in, a burning sensation pulsing through me. “…almost.”
My chest heaved, my breathing erratic and unstable. It was too good. It hurt so perfectly. His hand began pumping in and out of my body, causing loud, wet sounds.
“Going to make a mess, baby? I’d hope you’d wait until you were in my bed for that.” I couldn’t feel anything but his fingers inside me, driving me to insanity. “Thats alright, I’ll clean up. Go ahead and let go, honey. Come for me.”
An ear splitting screech ripped out of me, my body being rocked by another hard orgasm. His hand slowed, his fingers slipping out eventually.
“So fucking pretty. You got me all wet, I can’t tell you how fucking hot that was.”
I laid, eyes closed, working to bring myself back down to Earth. I wasn’t given much of a chance before I felt his tongue lapping at me again, making me squeal and jerk away from him.
“Nope.” His hands pulled me back to him. “I’m not done with you yet.”
The tears in my eyes were running. “Noah, please. Please!”
“I haven’t heard the safe word.” His face was buried in my folds, tongue pressing inside me. “You can do it baby, just one more, okay? I need one more.”
My head fell back on the pillows, savoring the soft, slow swipes of his tongue against me. It was almost…relaxing? He wa easing me through it, building me back up.
“Okay baby, you ready for another?”
I didn’t dare look at him, only nodded my head.
His fingers slipped back in, curling at the spot that makes my toes curl, and latched onto me again, his lips sucking hard on my clit.
This orgasm came quicker, washing over me like ocean waves hitting high tide. This time, I only managed to sigh hard when it hit me, feeling so wonderfully exhausted.
“That’s my girl. Perfect.”
I felt him lift up, but I still couldn’t make eye contact. My eyes were so heavy, and I couldn’t even fathom movement.
The bed dipped down next to me, and I cracked my lids to see him smiling. He reached down and kissed my cheek lovingly.
“Still there, Angel?”
I smiled a sleepy grin, and nodded. “That was…” There were no words. They didn’t exist.
“I’m glad you enjoyed.” I felt the blanket being pulled over me, and I opened my eyes in confusion.
“What are you doing?”
He chuckled lightly. “You need to get some sleep, beautiful. I know I talked a big game, but you’re exhausted. That was the goal.” He smoothed a hand over my stomach. “Help you get some rest.”
I rolled on my side, pouting slightly. “What about you?”
He shook his head. “I’ll be just fine.”
His hand reached over and switched the light off on the nightstand. He moved to stand up, by my arm came out to grab his. He turned his head and looked at me.
“Could you…” I cleared my throat. “I’d like it if you stayed.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah? Even though it’s just one night?”
I smirked, lifting the blanket for him to crawl under. With his own grin, he did so, lifting his arm so I could tuck in, head laid on his chest and arm falling over his stomach.
“Maybe it's more than just one night.”
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billybob598 · 11 months
Text
Monster (Alessia Russo x Reader)
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What's up my mammals? anyways, this was requested originally as an air ambulance reader but I decided to switch it up a bit, if that's ok. i was planning on doing the olga fic next but I really wanna do a kcc fic so I might work on both. enough of me, though. like always, any feedback good or bad is welcomed! Happy reading!
Word Count: 2k (I mean...COME ON MOTHERTRUCKERS)
Warnings: Swearing, a bit of violence, emotional crisis
“Ooh, how about this one?” Alessia says from above you while pointing at a picture in the magazine you were holding. 
“Mmm, no I don’t like that one,” you respond, shaking your head. Alessia pouts, begrudgingly flipping the page. The two of you were engaged to be married and were currently picking out tables for your reception. You continue to flip through the magazine pages as you lie between your fiancee’s legs. After a few more minutes of vetoing each other's choices, you both decided to take a break. You get up and start making some coffee while Alessia takes a little longer to get out of bed. Just as you’re pouring the coffee into your mugs, Alessia calls you to the bedroom,
“Y/N! Come here now!” Startled, you hastily head towards your shared room.
“Everything okay, love?” Peeking around the corner you find your girlfriend, white as a ghost, your phone a few inches away from her ear. Rushing over, you carefully remove the phone from her hand and put it beside your ear. “Who is this?” 
“Lieutenant Y/L/N, good to talk to you again,” the unmistakable deep voice says through the speaker. Unknowingly, you stand up straighter. Shoulders back, chest puffing out. 
“Sir,” you say, your voice miles different than the one you were just speaking to Alessia in.
“I’m going to get straight to the point, you’re being deployed. I’ll send you the details and your flight information. I’m not asking, soldier,” his tone left no room for arguing. You sigh, glancing over at Alessia who watched and listened to your conversation intently. 
“Sir, with all due respect, is there no one else that you could take?” You say exasperated.
“Are you saying you don’t want to serve your country, Lieutenant?” 
“No, no, not at all. But, you see I’m getting married in a few months here, sir.”
“Well, in a few months, you’ll be back. As I said, this isn’t a request.” With a sigh you nod and mutter out a “yes sir” before hanging up the phone and turning to look at the Arsenal striker.
“Less?” She doesn’t respond. She’s rooted to the spot. Her mind racing at a million miles an hour. They were going send you and hundreds of other British soldiers in there to fight a military that looked very far from surrendering. No. She couldn’t let you go like that. She was this close to finally being able to call you her wife. There was no chance in hell that she’d let you slip through her fingers like that. She’s broken out of her thoughts by your hand gently grasping hers. 
“Sorry, what?” She asks, meeting your eyes for the first time since receiving the phone call.
“Are you okay, Less?” You speak softly while slowly caressing the back of her hand. 
“Mhm, of course I am. Not like they’re deploying you into a country in absolute carnage or anything,” she mutters, her frustration getting the better of her.
“Baby, come on now. You know I can’t control this and it’s my job. It’s what I signed up for, it’s what you signed up for,” you reason.
“I know it’s what I signed up for, but what I didn’t sign up for is you leaving for duty with only a few months until we’re supposed to get married,” her voice stern. 
“Baby, I can’t say no, I’ll get dishonourably discharged. I’ll be fine Alessia, don’t worry,” you try to reason, getting a bit frustrated. Your girlfriend nods her head sadly. 
“Okay, okay. You’re right, you have to go. But, you have to call at least once a day, deal?”
A grin comes across your face as you pull her into a soft kiss, “Deal.”
A few weeks later, you’re tiredly peeling off your combat dress. Throwing the last few bits of armour onto the ground, you sigh and lie down on the bottom bunk. After a long day of bullets, bombs, and blood all you want to do is get just a few minutes of sleep before you’re put back on patrol duty. Just as your eyes begin to shut, your phone rings. The special ringtone you have set indicates who it is. 
“Hey, love!” Your favourite blonde’s cheery voice exclaims through the speakers.
“Hi Lessi,” you mumble out, tiredly. She frowns. 
“Everything okay, love?” 
You try to muster up a convincing smile, “Yeah, yeah everything’s fine, baby. Just tired is all.” Alessia isn’t convinced by your attempts, however.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” she says softly. 
“It’s okay, baby. How about you tell me about your day,” you sigh, obviously not wanting to talk. The striker nods and begins to talk in great detail about her day. You nod along and throw a question in every once and a while. After almost thirty minutes, you begin to yawn and your eyelids get heavier and heavier by the second. 
“How about you go to sleep now, honey,” Alessia’s soft, sweet voice whispers to you. 
“Mmm, okay. Don’t hang up, though,” you mumble sleepily. 
“Why not?”
“I don’t wanna be alone, please,” Alessia’s heart cracks slightly at how sad and scared you sound. 
“Of course, baby. I’ll be right here, you go to sleep now,” she coos. Within thirty seconds you’re out. Alessia laughs quietly and continues to get ready for training. She puts herself on mute as she goes about her day. While she was eating her breakfast with the team, she was teased relentlessly. It was fine by her though, she was just happy to see your face. And to see that you were finally resting. She knew that you weren’t exactly getting your 7-8 hours of sleep, so seeing you sleeping, if only for a bit, brought her some peace. 
As Alessia and Kyra Cooney-Cross were walking through the halls, on their way to the changeroom, a sudden and loud bang could be heard from your side. Startled, Alessia looks at her phone only to find you wide awake, eyes big. 
The striker unmutes herself, “Y/N, love, is everything okay?”
Your eyes widen even further when you hear her voice, “Err, yeah, everything’s good.” Alessia is not convinced at all.
Even less so when she hears a random voice yell through the night, “We’re under attack!” This springs you into action, you rush to put on your combat dress. Alessia is rooted to the spot. This couldn’t be happening, could it? Grabbing your phone, you sprint out of the barrack and towards the weaponry. Flinging the door open, you and a dozen other soldiers rush to grab rifles or pistols or anything really. 
“Less, I’ve got to go…” you say loudly, over the bullets and shouts.
“Y/N? Are you okay? What’s happ-” Alessia is cut short when you hang up. Tears are already filling her eyes as Kyra pulls her into a tight hug.
“I’m sure she’s gonna be okay,” Kyra says into her ear. 
Adrenaline coursing through your veins, you tuck your phone away.
“Y/L/N! Take a team. Try and see if you can get in behind them,” One of your superior officers tells you. Nodding, you pick seven other people and lead them into the darkness. Everyone was silent as you trekked through the desert. Every once and awhile someone would say something over the radio or there would a random burst of gunfire, making everyone’s head swivel. The tension was palpable. It felt that if anyone so much as breathed a hair too loudly, that you’d be discovered. In the distance you could see the tanks and soldiers going at it. The eight of you continued on, nerves only increasing the closer you got to the enemies camp. After twenty more minutes of walking, your little group was only a few hundred metres out from their first line of defence. Suddenly, there was a round of shots fired. Shit, they’d seen you. Everyone scattered as best they could. That was the downside of warfare in the desert, there was nowhere to hide. 
“This way! Come on, run!” You yell into the blackness, hoping someone had heard you. Loading your rifle, you turned and fired a few shots back, giving enough time for everyone else on your team to take cover behind a sand ridge. When the final person ran past you, you turned and sprinted up the massive hill. You were almost at the top when the guy in front of you hit the ground with a grunt. Blood almost immediately leaking through the back of his shirt. “Come on, come on, man.” You grabbed his arm roughly and dragged him behind you. Reaching the peak of the ridge, you pulled the two of you down the other side.
“Ahh, fuck,” he mutters out. Quickly, you and another soldier cover up his wound. 
“You’re gonna be fine, mate,” you say to him, “Keep applying pressure.” The other soldier nods and ensures that their hands are covering everything. “Alright guys, we have two options. One, we turn back, try to use this ridge as cover and try to make it back to base. Two, some of us stay here and try and snipe them. The others move in and try to take out their tanks. I saw them, they’re not very heavily guarded and I bet we could rush them and take out them out.”
Everyone looks around at each other. A few of them shrug non-chalantly. Finally, Colgate, a Second Liuetenant who had been given his nickname from the odd spelling of his last name, spoke up, “Let’s blow these motherfuckers.” Hearty laughs erupt from everyone.
Two people set up as snipers while the wounded guy also grabs his rifle to try and contribute. The restof you talk over the plan, deciding on two rushing to the left and taking out any guards covering the side and the rest go through the middle. 
“Okay, everyone ready?” You ask to the group. You get nods in response, “Let’s roll out then.” 
Stalking through the night, every footstep sounds painfully loud. The five of you successfully get to the tanks, two taking cover behind some storage container. The other three of you hide behind an abandoned car. Giving the go-ahead signal, everyone surges forward. Pressing down on the trigger of your gun, your arms shake from the recoil. You direct the bullets at the few guards standing around. If you weren’t able to see the bullets coming from beside you, you wouldn’t of known that anyone else was shooting. Everything seemed so distant, you could barely make out the sound of your own gun firing. As each one of the soldiers dropped, you rushed forward. Reaching into the backpack hanging off your back, you took out enough grenades to blow everything within their blast radius to bits. Placing them strategically around the tanks, you made sure everyone was ready to run before lighting the spark. Everyone started to sprint towards the snipers, who were covering you. As you began to run, you paused, looking down at the people you had just killed. A lump forms in your throat. You had killed them. You shot them with real bullets, not those Nerf darts you used against your siblings. They were dead. They were real people. Their families were going to get those letters, the same ones you swore you would never let Alessia get. 
“Jesus Christ, Y/N. Run!” A yell breaks you out of your thoughts. Remembering your current situation, you get going again, barely making it behind the sand ridge in time. The explosion rings through your ears, the sight of the fireball stretching upwards was spectacular. All eight of you let out a sigh of relief. You were safe, no one was going to find you, especially since they were all to preoccupied with checking on their tanks.
You sat down in the sand, putting your head in your hands. Tears slowly fall from your eyes. War had turned you into a monster. You killed without a second thought. You didn’t want to be here. The only place you wanted to be was in your Alessia’s arms. Preparing for your storybook wedding with the love of your life. Instead, here you were, in the middle of an all-out war, killing complete strangers for no apparent reason other than you were told to.
Monster.
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jellieland · 1 year
Text
A week or two after the games, Grian will usually check in with the victor.
It's a habit that's probably more for his own benefit than anyone else's. But it is, he thinks, a good habit nonetheless.
After all, as fun as it all is, things can get a bit... intense, towards the end, and it's good for his peace of mind to make sure the last one standing is ok with how things shook out.
Nothing much has ever really come of it before; they're all pretty resilient. He doubts this time’ll be different. Except- well.
Something about it all itches at the back of his mind, and he hasn’t been able to work out why. There was the actual ending, of course, but also Grian may have been whispering in Martyn's ear about how boring that final showdown was turning out to be, and how narratively satisfying it would be if he just betrayed the other two and got it over with, so.
If nothing else, it feels like he's got no reason to break with tradition.
There's just one more concern.
Martyn seems to have made it almost impossible to contact him.
It's not... unheard of, for players to keep to themselves most of the time, especially when it comes to those they don’t share a server with. It seems a little uncharacteristic of Martyn, but the last time Grian saw him outside the games was before they even started, so maybe he does things differently these days.
There are certainly a great many reasons why that could be the case, most of which are perfectly sensible.
But Grian's never been able to resist picking at a puzzle put in front of him, whether the puzzle likes it or not, so he is going to talk to Martyn. And he can just see what happens, and worry about any consequences if and when they appear.
Luckily, he already has a way to do just that.
He doesn't usually need to do this - although it is very funny to startle Scar or Mumbo with it sometimes when they're concentrating. Honestly it's usually less effective than communicators, with how much effort it takes.
But he does have a way. The same way he used to whisper in Martyn's ear very recently, in fact.
He reaches out, away from his home, away from his body, and it feels a little like simultaneously overextending himself, and putting his foot down on a step he thought was flat ground.
That is... not how this usually feels.
It's odd. Rather unnerving.
But it works.
He finds Martyn. Watches the vague shape of him solidify into something more real.
He’s still wearing his red life outfit, for some reason. His eyes are closed. Around his head, the coral curls like a blood-red crown.
“What do you think you're playing at?” Asks Grian.
Martyn blinks his eyes open slowly, looking less confused than Grian would expect for someone hearing a disembodied voice out of nowhere. “Oh good.” He says dryly. “You again.”
He squawks indignantly. “Hey, what's that supposed to mean?”
There is silence for a few seconds.
“...Hey.” Martyn says, and as flippant as he suddenly sounds, he looks as thrown off balance as Grian feels. “Not sure who this is, but I think you might have the wrong number!”
“I think that's unlikely.” He deadpans. “Where are you? I haven't been able to get hold of you.”
“Uh-” There's a short pause as he looks around at wherever he is right now. “Falling into endless nothingness, looks like. Same old, same old, am I right?”
Grian rolls his eyes. “Yeah, ok. Well, I suppose you don't have to tell me.” A part of him makes a note of Martyn’s wording, though. Just in case.
“...Hm. Well, not gonna lie, I do appreciate the change of pace, but I would love to know what exactly you want from me. You know, just on the off chance that you feel like giving me any clues.”
It's at this point that Grian remembers: one of the main reasons this method of communication is good for messing with people is that it makes him sound, um. A little different. And while he can see Martyn, it’s not as if Martyn can see him.
...Best to just pretend that hadn't slipped his mind.
“You do realize this is Grian, right?” He asks, as though it ought to be obvious.
“Riiight, yeah, sure.” Says Martyn. “And I'm also Grian, did you know that?”
“Oh for- what, do you want me to tell you some secret only the two of us would know, or something?”
“Nah.” Says Martyn. “That wouldn't work.”
“Elaborate.” Says Grian, through gritted teeth.
“You know what? I don't think I will!” Replies Martyn brightly.
Grian takes a deep breath in through his nose. “I'm beginning to wonder why I bother.” He grinds out.
Martyn snorts. “Tell me about it.”
There's a short silence.
“But- ok.” He continues. “Just suppose for the sake of argument that you are Grian.”
“...Yes?” Asks Grian warily.
“I have a question for you.”
“...Yeeees?” Asks Grian, even more warily.
The silence stretches for several long moments.
“What's up?” Asks Martyn.
“Yeah ok, this isn’t worth it, I'm leaving now.”
“Wait! No, I'm serious!” Under the amusement, there's a note of something that sounds almost like nervousness in his voice. It's uncharacteristic. Unnerving.
“What are you talking about?” Asks Grian, trying very hard to keep his voice at least mostly free of annoyance.
“Oh, you know! What's going on, what's the deal, what'd you want to talk to me for?” There's a slight hesitation. “You need help or something?”
“I- ok. That's actually sort of relevant. It's really nothing too complicated, Martyn.” He says, grumpily. “All I wanted to do was make sure you're good with what happened at the end of the last game.”
Martyn blinks, and goes very still.
There is a long silence - long enough that Grian starts to feel concerned.
And then Martyn laughs.
It's not a nice laugh.
“Good, huh. You want to know if I’m good with it. That sure is an interesting choice of words.”
“...How so?” He asks, guardedly.
“Grian. Grian, I’m not sure if you remember this, but I won. I won this one, Grian.” Every word he says, however restrained, sounds like it’s had to claw its way out of him. He glares at nothing. “And guess what? It's just like the others. I don’t really care enough for any of it to matter to me, anymore, and that's fine by me.”
Now that's... a lot to unpack. “You- I'm sorry?”
“Well that makes one of us then, doesn't it?” His voice is coated with scorn.
“What are you talking about?”
“Do you actually think I’m going to explain myself to you?” He asks, looking half-amused. “You, of all people?”
“Well unfortunately, Martyn, I can’t exactly put Ren on the line, so I’m afraid I’m all you’re going to get.” He snaps, and instantly regrets it when he sees the look in Martyn’s eyes.
There is a short silence.
Grian shifts uncomfortably. He’s not going to apologize, obviously. But. Well. “That... ok, maybe that was a bit much.” He says.
“...Little bit, yeah.”
There is another silence.
After a while, Martyn speaks.
“I would’ve betrayed him too, you know.” He says coolly.
“What, Ren?”
“Yeah. At the drop of a hat. Soon as it was convenient.”
“I mean sure, I suppose?” Says Grian, caught off guard. “You didn’t, though. Did you? When you had the chance.”
“Eh.” He shrugs, as though that’s an irrelevant detail. “It would’ve been more dramatic later. You know how it is.”
...There's no real way he can justify saying no to that, is there? “Yeah.” He says. “I guess I do.”
He tries to picture the King, betrayed. The Hand, triumphant.
“I dunno, though.” He says, thoughtful. “I don’t think you ever could’ve done it, to be honest. Not in the first one. Whatever it was you were planning, it was just never how that story was going to go.”
“That’s not true.” He says it just slightly too fast. “I know that’s not true.”
Grian scoffs. “You know thinking about something isn’t the same as doing it, right?”
“What, no, really?” He rolls his eyes. “You don’t say!”
“What I’m saying,” He lets his voice turn biting, “Is that you’re being stupid.”
Martyn lets out a startled laugh. It’s surprisingly genuine. “Wow. You’re really bad at this, dude.”
Grian bristles. “Well why am I the one who has to do it then? Why don’t you talk to someone else, if you hate talking to me so much?”
“I mean…” He makes an unconvinced noise. “Obvious problems aside, when do you even expect me to do that? We usually have other things to worry about.”
“I don’t know, maybe at literally any point between the games?” He sighs exasperatedly. “There’s no way you’re that busy.”
“Between the games?” Martyn asks incredulously, and Grian suddenly feels as though something dangerous is hovering over their heads, just about to drop. “What do you mean, between the games?”
“I mean between the games! Like- now! What do you think this is, right now, if it’s not between the games?” He snaps.
“This right now?” He looks nonplussed. “I think we’re usually asleep for most of this bit. Or possibly we forget about it. As you can probably imagine, it’s hard to know for sure.”
“Now I know that’s not true.” He says firmly, ignoring the unease trying to creep up on him. “I know I do stuff between games, and I know I don’t just forget about it. That makes no sense.”
“I mean, I don't necessarily mean everything between the games, more just this specifically.” He gestures around at nothing. “That gets more complicated, though. But you- hm.” He looks curious. “That’s interesting. Where even are you, then, at the moment?”
“I’m at home! Which is where I thought everyone else was too!”
Martyn seems to consider this for a few moments, and then he frowns, and then his expression goes blank. “…Oh.” He says. “Yeah. No, that… makes sense, actually. Yeah. You’re probably right.”
“Wha- what do you mean? Right about what?”
“Everyone probably went home. Or, at least, they thought they did. And hey, what’s the difference, when you get right down to it?”
“...Ok, I’m going to ignore the second part for now, I already got past that little existential crisis after Ren and Doc’s whole… thing… in season eight- if you think everyone went home, why are you- what was it you said- ‘falling into endless nothingness’?”
There’s another pause.
“...You’re really gonna make me say it, huh? That seems cruel, even for you.”
“Wait, no, what do you-”
“Where else do you think I would go?” It sounds less like an admission and more like an accusation. “What ‘home’ do you think I have left, Grian?”
“Look.” Snaps Grian, feeling vaguely tricked. “It’s not my fault that you-”
“Yeah, it never is, is it?” He glares into the darkness. “It’s always a tragic inevitability with you, never a choice you’re making. That way you get to stab people in the back and pretend to be sad about it. Best of both worlds, huh?”
Grian splutters for a few seconds. “Why are you being so rude to me??”
“Because you’re you and I’m me.” He smirks. “Don’t know what you expected, honestly.”
“Oh yeah? Who’s hiding behind inevitability now?” Grian retorts, perhaps a trifle vindictively.
“I never said I wasn’t a hypocrite, sometimes. Also, I never said I felt bad about it.” He replies levelly, and all at once, they’re talking about something else.
“You didn’t need to say it.” Snaps Grian. “You might be good at lying but you’re not perfect. I could see in your face that it hurt.”
He narrows his eyes. “It felt good, actually.”
“Wow, good for you.” He says, almost amused suddenly. “You didn’t say I was wrong, though.”
His expression twists into something unreadable. “I know you, Grian. Like recognizes like.” He says, voice low and dangerous. “You’re a liar.”
Grian shrugs, despite the fact that Martyn will not see it. “And you’re a coward. Your point?”
“I don’t need to justify myself to someone who refuses to admit that he could have chosen to be better, if he’d ever wanted to.” He spits out.
“Hey, at least I don’t try and convince myself I’m a monster just because I want to survive.”
That one strikes something tender; he can tell. “Right, yeah, and you’re just a blameless angel and everyone you cut down had it coming, I’m sure.”
“I didn’t say that. But since you bring it up… how many people did you give up your time for, again?” He grins. “Is it less than one? Because I think it is. I think I’ve got you beat there, Martyn.”
“And where did it get you?” He snarls.
“Home, in the end.”
Martyn flinches back as though he’s been struck.
“Did you forget about that part?” Asks Grian.
There’s a long pause.
Martyn fidgets with the end of the banner he wears around his waist, pulling at where the white threads are coming undone. He stares out into the darkness. “Yeah.” He says. “I guess I did.”
The satisfaction of winning the argument feels less potent, suddenly.
“You’re right.” Says Grian, after a while. “I’m really bad at this.”
Martyn laughs quietly. “To be fair, I’m not exactly helping.”
“You’re really not.”
He sighs. “You know pulling the knife out just makes the wound start bleeding again, don’t you? That’s all we’re doing here. That’s all we’re going to do to each other. We’re too alike to do anything else, unless we just don’t do anything. And hey, we’re not great at that either.”
“Hmm.” Says Grian begrudgingly. “I’d say something about inevitability again, but I honestly don’t think you’re wrong.”
“We both just enjoy pushing buttons too much to be particularly good at not pushing them, I guess.” Martyn sounds half-amused, half-resigned.
Grian makes an irritated noise. “Yes, alright, I don’t need another reminder of the whole button debacle.”
There is more silence.
After a while, Grian speaks again. “There’s something I was wondering about, actually.”
“Oh yeah?” Martyn raises an eyebrow.
“What’s the reason?” He asks.
“You’re gonna have to be more specific with that one, mate.”
“‘This is a death match for a reason.’” He says matter-of-factly. “That’s what you said. So- what is it? What’s the reason?”
Martyn blinks, then lets out a short, harsh laugh. “You think I know that?”
“No, not really. That’s why I wondered what you meant when you said it.”
“It- look. I don’t know if you’re expecting philosophy from me, or something. It’s a death game. People die, and it doesn’t have to mean anything. It doesn’t have to be special, it doesn’t have to be honourable, it doesn’t have to be fair. That’s what I meant.” He frowns. “You know that.”
“I do.” He admits.
“Then why ask?” Martyn looks around as though this time, somehow, he might be able to find Grian’s face in the dark.
He doesn’t.
“I just-” Grian sighs. “What do you want?” He asks. “What do you actually want, Martyn?”
The question sits heavy in the darkness between them.
“What do you want me to say?” Martyn asks. He sounds more tired than Grian’s ever heard him.
“I want you to tell the truth.” Grian says. He needs to know. He needs to know.
“Now, Grian.” Says Martyn, voice gently chiding. “Have you met me? You know I can’t do that.”
“Pretend it’s a lie, then.”
Martyn’s grip on the banner he wears tightens, slightly. There is a long, long silence.
“Or how about,” Says Grian, eventually, “You say something, and I won’t know whether it’s a lie or not.”
There is another pause.
Martyn frowns at the red of the fabric in his hands, as though it might offer him something.
As far as Grian can tell, it does not.
He’s just beginning to give up hope of ever getting an answer when Martyn speaks, so softly he almost doesn’t hear it.
“I want it to be warm again.” He says.
It’s quiet.
For a moment – just a moment, no more – Grian remembers bloody, aching fists. He remembers burning heat.
“Well.” He says. “That makes one of us, then. Doesn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Says Martyn, voice low. “I guess it does.”
There’s another short second of silence before Martyn speaks again, sounding cheerful. “So, suppose I’ll see you in the next one, huh? If that ever happens.” He grins. “Wanna take bets on how hard Scott’ll have to try not to win it? I’m gonna go with very.”
Grian snorts. “I’m not taking that bet. That man is infuriatingly good at surviving.”
“You’re not wrong! You are not wrong.” He gestures into the void. “And don’t even get me started on Timmy’s whole thing, I think we both know how that one’s gonna go. Unless you want to bet against him being gone first next time round?”
“You’re not Scar.” Says Grian. “There’s no way you talk anyone into taking that bet in a million years. Except maybe Timmy.”
“Fair, fair.”
There’s a short pause.
Grian hesitates for a moment before he speaks – almost, but not quite, reluctant. “Why do you keep looking back?” He asks. “There’s nothing left for us there. You know that, right?”
“I mean, let me know when you find a better place to look.” He tilts his head to the side slightly, curious, and frowns. “Do you really never want to go back?”
“No.” Says Grian. “Never.”
Martyn opens his mouth, and then, uncharacteristically, closes it again. “Yeah.” He says. “Me neither.”
Grian is tempted, momentarily, to tell Martyn to take the banner off and let it go. Let the darkness take it. Prove it.
But just like Martyn, he lets it drop.
Mutually assured destruction is a potent thing.
Now all he has to do is the hard part. The part he’s dreading most of all.
The main concern is phrasing it correctly. Making it sound just how he wants it to sound.
After some thought, he thinks he’s found the words he's looking for.
He could always be wrong, though. He’s usually more one for incredible violence than smooth talking.
“Martyn?” He asks cautiously, casually. “Do you want me to help you?”
The expression that crosses Martyn’s face is unreadable.
He processes the question for a few moments, before he answers.
“Nah. I’m good.” He says, voice guarded. “Don’t worry about it.”
And that’s the rub, isn’t it.
Because now Grian has to decide whether he’s going to let Martyn lie to him or not.
Whether he’s going to pass the test that’s been set before him, or not.
...
Grian’s not a monster.
He’s just realistic.
There's nothing he could do, anyway.
“Well.” He says levelly. “Just let me know if that changes.”
(Martyn would do the same to him. It’s not a justification, or an excuse. But he knows it to be true.)
Martyn stares out into the darkness. His eyes are almost, but not quite, resentful. “Sure thing, man. Why wouldn’t I.”
It’s not said like a question, so Grian doesn’t answer it. “Well, you know I can’t stay here forever.”
“I do know that.”
“Any messages you want me to pass on to any of the hermits? I know you haven’t seen Mumbo in a while.” It’s not really a compromise, or a peace offering. Hopefully, however, it’s close enough to one or the other of those to act in their stead.
Martyn closes his eyes. Breathes in. Breathes out. Opens his eyes again. “If you were Grian, then maybe.” His gaze is cold. “But I think this hypothetical has gone on long enough.”
...It’s a lot easier for both of them, if Martyn believes that.
He’s positive Martyn knows that.
Just this once, perhaps he can manage to not look a gift horse in the mouth.
“For what it’s worth,” He says, looking away, “I moved on from the Bad Boys when it got too expensive to keep them alive.”
“It’s not worth a lot.” Says Martyn flatly. “And it would be worth even less coming from Grian.”
Grian sighs. “Alright. Fine. I’ll see you around, Martyn.”
“I know.” Says Martyn. He closes his eyes.
After a few moments, Grian does too.
When he opens them, he’s home.
Oh, that doesn’t feel good.
It really doesn't.
He could dwell on this. It wouldn’t be hard. He could drown himself in guilt over what he’s done, or not done, or will not do.
But- well.
Grian never really saw the point in letting someone else drag you down with them.
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sea-owl · 6 months
Text
Ok but I wanna talk about Portia in that trailer and the absolute pride in her voice when she's taking to Penelope.
I personally love Portia's character and how she's been a foil to Violet in that she's a loving mother, but she's also a realist about the society they live in. She's a tough love, no nonsense type of mother. She's making sure everyone survives as a top priority, if she has to be mean to get them there than so be it.
She's been at odds with Penelope the last two seasons mainly because of their different views. Portia is a realist, while Penelope still has dreams like most 17-18 year olds. Portia, in her own way, has been trying to bring Penelope back to reality.
An example of this to me is the scene where Portia finds out Penelope has been writing to Colin. The first thing she says "I declare Penelope," in a softer tone and when Penelope declares Colin her friend that tone becomes more strict. She tells Penelope, "Colin Bridgerton is no more your friend than I am the next Catherine the Great." Is it mean? Yup. But looking at it through Portia's eyes there's some truth to it. Their society doesn't allow friendships between single men and women. Colin and Penelope writing to one another without being engaged or even a proper courtship was actually very inappropriate. Portia probably does understand that there really isn't anything inappropriate in those letters and they are actually friends but she also knows no one else would see it that way. If she wanted she would have been well within her rights to go to Anthony about it and raise a fuss. She needs Penelope to see this too.
Now come season 3 in Portia's pov Penelope is finally taking the marriage mart seriously. She's got herself a suitor who is a titled lord, and Portia is proud of her. No more silly little fantasies of love. Meanwhile Penelope is probably weirded out with some other mixed feelings by this because this isn't what she is used to from her mother.
Makes me excited to see where their relationship goes. Because honestly, Penelope probably inherited the most from her mother, but she's in denial about it. It mostly comes out in Lady Whistledown, but that sharp wit and scheming mind is Portia. Penelope will actually fall into Portia's line of thinking when she's backed into a corner. When she saved both Colin and Eloise, she knew they would be hurt, and she's sorry about that, but she also knows they'll be safe. That is Portia's school of thought 101.
I've also been wanting to see how they approach the big heart to heart between the two of them. I want them to get into a screaming match that breaks down into them sincerely talking to one another. Penelope's confidence is supposed to get a boost this season, and we know she's not afraid to subtley barb at her mother. I hope they have Penelope confront Portia at some point, forcing everything out in the open.
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spacebarbarianweird · 9 months
Note
I wish I could do this as an ask from @astarionsbeloved but Tumblr is bein Tumblr.
I'd like to ask for a head canon! Astarion with an autistic partner? As an adult autistic afab who was very late diagnosed and is constantly struggling to balance things (including skill regression which I seriously wish they'd talk about more), I'd love to read someone else's personal head canon for this.
Ok, this one was difficult! Thanks @rachelle-on-the-run for tips!
Astarion x Autistic Tav
Masterlist
Headcanons
You have always been aware something is off with you.
It's not like you are sick or deranged, but you have had difficulties communicating with other people or understanding what this world wants from you.
You can't read social cues, often don't get the context, and are absolutely oblivious about flirting.
Your family has always blamed it on you - just take a grip! What do you mean, you can't go outside without a weird black cape that was given to you ages ago?
What do you mean you can't hold your tears? Are you a toddler?
Grow up!
The kidnapping and getting the tadpole in your brains really take a toll on you.
You can't sleep in the tent. You've lost your black cape.
There are too many people around you. You have to sleep in different places every night. You have to eat what you manage to find, not your comfort food.
You see it as a chance to get this grip. You can. You are an adult. You can make your brain work!
For a while, you manage to do so. But you can't understand why Astarion pays so much attention to you.
Until Gale tells you that it's flirting.
You are embarrassed. With little to no sexual experience, you just thought Astarion was friendly!
And you absolutely can't read the room which ends up with Gale being offended by your comments about his personal life, and Shadowheart almost puts some sort of a curse on you just because you blurted something insensitive.
And yep, you've crossed Astarion's boundaries a few times. Because you just couldn't understand why certain things hurt him.
And then, something horrible happens.
There is a battle. Not the bloodiest, not the most difficult.
But you have a meltdown.
It's just too much. Too many sounds, too many people, too much, too much.
You cry and scream, throwing objects into the wall.
The whole party is embarrassed.
But not Astarion.
He gently takes you to the camp where he tugs you in the blanket while speaking something soft in Elven.
And then he leaves you alone making sure no one from the camp disturbs you.
When you feel better you crawl outside to notice him sitting with a book.
"I am sorry", you sniff.
"Don't. It's not your fault. Besides, I should admit, you've done your best all this time."
You are shocked. There is understanding in his voice.
"It's just how your brain works, Tav. You are overwhelmed easily, it's ok."
He helps you to re-create your routine making it workable at the camp.
He even gets you a comfort cape - not like the one you used to have, but a very similar one.
Astarion also looks for food you can eat as a picky eater and scolds anyone at camp who tries to ostracize you
At the sametime , he doesn't allow anyone to infantilize you.
You are a grown adult so is he. You can make decisions and deal with consequences.
For him it's a nice change as well - he has to be very clear with you saying what he wants and why.
You have to deal with a stigma - people who know you often call Astarion a predator because he sleeps with a person who is "mentally ill."
He doesn't take any of this bs. You aren't ill. You know what you do.
Mostly.
With time, he learns how to deal with your meltdowns and even predict them. He professionally takes you away from the possible triggers and makes sure you are okay.
You shower him with your affection - sometimes unpredictable, sometimes crossing his boundaries.
You accidentally help him deal with his back scars. You just didn't realize you weren't supposed to touch them.
You started rubbing his back with your gentle fingers and before Astarion managed to get away from you, he suddenly realized it felt nice.
It is still a lot of work for you two.
But you glad to share this journey with each other.
--
Tag list
@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria@not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx@astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95@tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars
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yuri-is-online · 6 months
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hi, i'm not the same anon but i would like to hear more about the fyuuture kid au 👉👈 especially about riddle!!
hello new friend, you picked someone who is having a real bad time in this au (゚ω゚;)
I am going to give some general information about Yutu and then move on to some Riddle specific stuff.
notes: they/them used for Yuu, general au explanation can be found here, and the posts can be found on my masterlist under the series section.
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General Yutu Facts
"Yutu" is supposed to be a fake name fyuuture kid is using to help hide his identity, but I am open to suggestions on that. Originally he didn't remember his name and Crowley picked it out for him, but I like the idea of "Yuu two" being a nickname he had in both your world and Twisted Wonderland and picked as his alias to honor his parent. Yutu really admires Yuu, he has nothing but empathy for your situation and respect for your strength, and while he certainly fought with you from time to time (some Yutus more than others) he wants to be like you.
That desire was very much cemented when he heard about how you won against the overblot phantoms. Yutu's unique magic changes depending on who his dad is, but all Yutus have extensive experience in combat magic and have fought a lot of monsters. Including overblot phantoms, same as you. His fights didn't go as well though... he's extremely afraid of the Great Seven's phantoms and has regular nightmares about them.
Back to the names... I didn't have names picked out for every version of Yutu, but Riddle does happen to have been one of them. His real name was supposed to be March, yes like the march hare but if I'm honest I was more thinking about the saying "in like a lion out a lamb" because I thought that described Riddle's temper pretty well.
The other ones I picked out I still like are Merrin (I swear I found it on a list of mountain themed names??? But it means sea born or pearl of the sea), Laurie (yes like little women, his unique magic was supposed to something to do with painting), and Roland (I have an unironic love for French peerage ok please do not judge me).
Some of the Yutus were meant to have older siblings who stayed behind in Twisted Wonderland (Riddle! Yutu wasn't one of them), but that was very much an idea I didn't develop extensively since it was more left over from Fire Emblem Awakening. I wanted there to be a Lucina type older sibling character who was very protective of Yutu and wanting a future where he gets to stay in Twisted Wonderland and they get to be a happy family. But again I didn't cook this idea extensively so idk how to feel about keeping it as a part of the ayuu.
Anyway on to the Riddle specific stuff ¬‿¬
So that bit about Yutu's real name coming from a description from Riddle's temper: I like to leave what Yutu looks like up to the reader, but Riddle! Yutu if nothing else took two things from his father, his (lack of) height and his temper. His facial expressions when pouting and angry are eerily similar, and they both have a strong affinity for fire. Riddle! Yutu is a lot like Riddle Tsum now that I think about it? Very high energy and likes to jump around all over the place, but determined to be at least somewhat dignified.
Since traveling back in time Yutu has been "studying" with Grim to try and get his flames hot enough to burn blue to flex on his dad and to bond with the monster. He usually just ends up watching him though, the mental image he had of Grim vs what the little guy is actually like is really wild.
Back to the temper, unlike Riddle Yutu wasn't home schooled so he got into a lot of trouble for losing it on other students. He had a chip on his shoulder about not having a dad, having a parent with amnesia, and especially about being short oh god he is so spiteful about that. He got sent to detention a lot, and shamefully it made him fight with Yuu a lot too. Not that he hates Yuu, he was just very emotional and not always the easiest to deal with. His last few interactions with Yuu before they died were very strained, and he is filled with remorse for a bunch of stupid things he said.
When he gets to the point where he has to admit to Yuu who he is there is going to be a lot of crying and begging for forgiveness. He was a stupid, angry kid who just wanted to know who he was and didn't feel like he belonged lashing out at the one person who he knew wanting nothing but the best for him. He doesn't really feel the need to ask for forgiveness from his dad (yet)... by the time Yutu was isekaid into Twisted Wonderland Riddle had been corrupted by his overblot phantom and was wrecking the Queendom of Roses so he never really met the real Riddle until he traveled back in time.
He also got compared to Riddle a lot, Yutu isn't stupid by any means but because of all that time spent in detention he is a bit behind on the fundamentals. Not to mention all Riddle has done up to this point is practice magic and Yutu only just found out it was real so of course there was going to be a skill gap! But still, he's Riddle's son and Riddle was a very memorable student for Crewel, so Yutu was guaranteed to hear some comparisons. It didn't help the daddy issues though...
Speaking of Yutu's time at NRC, he did get placed into Heartslabyul by the Dark Mirror and he does know all 810 rules of the Queen's rules. He's not as obsessed with them as Riddle is but he still knows what he's supposed to do and tries to be on his best behavior. He was not interested in being dorm leader and wanted to instead focus on the things Yuu always encouraged him to do, like controlling his temper and getting good grades.
I sort of like the idea of his unique magic being the ability to grow/shrink because in the book Rule 42 of the Queen of Hearts says “All persons more than a mile high to leave the court" and I like the idea of him trying to use his spell to get out of arguments with his dad.
Riddle has no idea that Yutu hates him... at first. This is partially because Yutu is usually very polite to him and partially because he is utterly unaware of how much people are afraid of him in general, but he starts to pick up on it when he tries to interact with Yuu. He wants to have a private tea party with just Yuu? Well Yutu immediately starts acting like this is somehow scandalous and calls him out on his feelings in front of the prefect and he wants to lose it so badly- Yuu agrees anyway and Riddle immediately gets unreasonably smug while Yutu pouts. Take that sucker! He's going to study with the prefect all alone and since it's Riddle you know you really are just going to study.
I don't think Riddle really considers Yutu a rival for Yuu's romantic attention, partially because he isn't fully aware of what it is he feels for Yuu, but even if he was. Riddle knows that Yuu sees Yutu as someone under their care similar to Grim, they actually talk to him about it quite a bit and he has no issue with that. He is actually sort of grateful for Yutu's existence since it has given him an excuse to talk to Yuu more and let them know how he respects them.
Yutu's academic struggles are something that actually bring him closer to Riddle ironically enough. Riddle has created study guides for Yuu and Grim before, he has no problem doing that for Yutu and inviting himself over to give instructions.
"Did you not get a lot of help from your parents?" Riddle sounds nervous, and he should it's an invasive question to ask. Yutu wants to be angry, but when he looks at Riddle, he just feels sad. "Not that it is any of my business really but well. I just noticed you never really talk about them, even to Yuu."
"My dad wasn't really around." He forces himself to look at Riddle when he says it, but it doesn't make him feel any better. If anything it makes Yutu feel worse, he knows about as much about Riddle as Riddle knows about him now that he's forced to look at him. "And my other parent... they tried really hard. But I wasn't always willing to accept it."
"I can't say I understand what that would be like." Riddle looks like he is trying to and that should be what he wants, right? "My mother home schooled me so it's hard for me to understand that someone's parents wouldn't be a constant figure in their schooling."
"You were home schooled?"
Yutu didn't know anything about his grandmother, it didn't even really occur to him that he had one and once he learns about her... well it certainly makes things make a lot more sense. He doesn't want to meet her, but he is curious about what she thought about his parent. What would she think about him? Does he even want to know?
My last concrete thought is that Yutu doesn't really get the whole horse girl thing. He is sort of afraid of horses actually, but I can see him maybe wanting to ride with Riddle once their relationship gets a bit better just to do something with him.
I like the idea of Riddle! Yutu being very into baseball for some reason and there's no way he's going to convince his dad to do that with him ha. Well not in this timeline anyway, I can see good timeline Riddle doing a bunch of research on baseball so he can talk to his kid about it. And showing up to all his matches to scream in support of his kid instead of at the coaches. He is breaking the cycle we love to see it.
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powerfultenderness · 1 year
Note
Dear @powerfultenderness , but how about neighbor! König hearing "those" sounds and him hearing his name from y/n after that jelly encounter~. With that we can sleep peacefully( I am so invested in this series and your work, girl you slayyy hard! Love youuu!!).
Ahh, thank you so much!
You have struck a plot point I am saving for a different part of the story! So I wrote a little something else instead, I hope you still like it! Also, I was gonna sit on this for a bit, but since I have nothing else ready, and I kinda wanna keep y'all hooked, I'm posting it now. 😅
Not the most detailed smut I've written, but it is smut, so I'm bumping the rating to (Explicit 18+)
Direct continuation of [König's jealousy]
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If anyone were to ask him what his greatest test of strength was, he had a definite answer. It had nothing to do with his time in the military, nor with KorTac. It was leaving you like that, desperate for him and moaning his name. Every part of him was telling him to go back to you, to finally partake in you. But you were still upset from running into your ex, and he didn’t want your first time together to be tainted by that. He wanted to make sure that you really wanted him, and not simply a distraction. 
König sighed, fresh from a very cold shower, as he dropped into the soft embrace of his bed. He wished it was your embrace instead. In the safety and privacy of his own home, he let out an appreciative hum as he remembered the feeling of your soft body against his. He could still hear your little pants and whimpers as he rocked his aching cock against your ass. 
“Fuck,” he muttered to himself and rolled over, nuzzling his face into his pillow. 
This line of thought would lead him nowhere. He knew that. That didn’t stop his mind from conjuring the feeling of holding you in his arms, your body fitting perfectly against his. He softly rolled his hips into the mattress, as if that could replicate the sensation of having you. Instead of your sweet little “Ah!”s, his ears only picked up his own heavy breathing and the gentle rock of his bed. Even when he breathed in, his mind supplied him with your intoxicating scent. 
-
Knock! Knock! Knock!
He jolted with a muttered curse, he had been enjoying floating in his thoughts of you and this was a rude interruption. He grumbled a bit as he grabbed one of his masks and tossed it on before answering the door.
“König!” 
Oh! His heart quickened and his stomach flipped. Not a rude interruption at all, especially when you were wearing that dress he bought. Maybe he should go back and buy one in every color. 
He cleared his throat and stepped aside to let you in, “everything ok?” 
You sighed and shook your head, “no! How can you ask that?” 
“What?” Shit. Did he forget something?
You quickly turned away from him to move towards the couch, your dress flaring out around you for a moment and drawing his eyes down to your thighs. You were pouting at him by the time he was able to drag his eyes back up. “I have to know what you said last night!” 
Oh. Shit. He was a little apprehensive of how you’d react once you had a moment to gather your thoughts. He supposed that was now. He sat down next to you, about to answer but you started first, showing him the translation on your phone. 
“I’m pretty sure I caught at least one word! “Not”! Are you mad at me?”
“What?” 
“About how I let Adrian ruin our day?” 
Did you say ‘day’ or ‘date’? No. Now wasn’t the time.
“No. No-” 
You dropped your hands into your lap and looked down, away from him. “I’m sorry. It’s just seeing him again made me realize…” 
“Realize what?” 
You were trembling just enough for him to notice and the way you started to bite at your lower lip was reminiscent of when you saw Adrian out with that other woman. And then you forced yourself to smile at him, “heh. You know what? Never mind. Forget it. Forget-” 
“Realize what?” 
You tried to look away from him again, but he gently caught your chin and made you look at him, still you averted your eyes as you whispered an answer. “If Adrian couldn’t love me…?” 
“I can.” He didn’t hesitate. 
You gasped and slapped your hands over your face and leaned into him, hiding your face into his chest. “Don’t say thaaat!”
He chuckled at how cute you were flustered like that, and gently put a hand on your back. “Why not?” 
“Isn’t it too early for us to be even thinking about love?”
“Maybe.” He shrugged, then nudged you so you looked up at him again. “But I don’t want you to think about him again.” 
You smiled, but still found a way to hide your face from him again, this time by sitting back and dropping your forehead onto his shoulder. “That’s easy to do with you around. Sometimes, you’re all I think about.” You muttered shyly into his arm. 
Oh he knew that feeling all too well. He pulled his arm from your grasp and wrapped it around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest one more. You adjusted to sit more comfortably and tucked your head just under his chin. 
He was happy, holding you in his arms like this, and his feelings even tumbled out of his mouth, in German.
You giggled, however. “You have to stop doing that!”
“Doing what?” 
“What did you say?” 
He hadn’t meant to say that out loud! “Nothing.”
You huffed and looked up at him. “Tell me.” 
“Fine. I said, “I want to taste you.” 
Your eyes went wide and you gasped, burying your face in his chest again. He would have laughed but you mumbled something. “That’s funny.” 
“Oh? Why is it funny?” 
“Because I,” your fingers were playing with the edge of his mask, “want you to touch me.” 
His stomach flipped again. He couldn’t. Did you just. “What?” 
For a second, as you removed his arm from around you, he thought you were going to walk away. That he scared you off. Instead you climbed onto his lap, your back pressed against his chest and your right leg hooked over his knee. Then you took his hand and slowly began to drag it up the inside of your thigh. “Touch me, König.” 
He didn’t need to be told a third time and even without your guiding hand, he looked over your shoulder to see his hand disappear under your skirt. You gasped quietly as he cupped you, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing slow, gentle, circles over your cotton panties. Only when you started to move your hips did he slip his hand inside your panties, thick fingers gliding across your clit. You whimpered, head falling back against his shoulder, as his fingers prod at your entrance, gathering slick only to slowly drag up to your clit. 
“Take these off,” he growled and pulled at your panties. “Or I’ll rip them off.” 
You let out a breathy laugh and helped him move the offending garment down, wiggling in his lap and driving him crazy. Cute printed cotton that he had no attention for (right now at least) fell to the floor by his feet as he hiked your dress completely over your waist, pulling the excess fabric back. His left arm was wound around your chest, just below your breasts, holding you in place while his right hand went back to your now fully exposed sex.
“I want to see this pretty little pussy take my fingers.” 
He continued to tease you, dragging his fingers in soft gentle circles around your clit down to your entrance, slowly sliding a finger in one knuckle at a time and rubbing the heel of his palm against your clit. Not even your whining moans could drown out the lewd sound of his fingers sliding in and out of your pussy. 
“König!” You squirmed in his lap, ass grinding against his hard cock, and tried to close your thighs. 
“No!” He growled, “none of that!” and dropped his left hand from your chest to your thigh and pulled your legs apart, all while still vigorously pumping his fingers in your throbbing cunt. 
“Ah! AH! Stop!” 
König froze, fingers still buried deep in you, and even stopped breathing. “Shit. Are you hurt?” 
You shook your head, muttering a small “no,” but still pushed his hand away from you, whimpering as his fingers slid out of your pussy. 
He remained still as a statue as you moved, unsure why you stopped and afraid that you didn’t want to tell him if he had hurt you. You moved until you were facing forwards just enough to reach for his mask. Already frozen with anxiety, he couldn’t move to stop you from lifting the edge of his mask up. You stopped, however, just below his nose, then slowly brought his right hand, covered in your cum, to his face. “Taste.” 
He whined, gasping short excited breaths, as he let you guide his hand to his mouth. His eyes closed, mouth already hanging open.
-
Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! 
His eyes opened and he swallowed thickly, mouth dry from… “Fuck.” He muttered to himself as the memory of his dream came flooding back to him. 
He sighed and flipped over onto his back, swallowing once more to alleviate his dry mouth, and realized he was hard as a rock. Sleepily he dragged one hand down to his waist. You were going to be the death of him. His mind supplied him images of both memory and dream versions of you as he shucked his boxers down and wrapped a hand around his cock. What a death it would be though. 
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[More Neighbor König]
Tagging: @warrior-of-justice
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k1ngdom-of-thieves · 2 years
Note
how would the first years react to finding out reader is a girl?
You guys really like these types of requests! Thank you so much for supporting me.
Here’s it with the dorm leaders and vice dorm leaders
First years + Finding out reader is a girl!
Ace Trappola
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Despite being one of your closest friends, Ace is probably one of the last people to find out. He doesn’t really pay the best attention to his surroundings.
How he found out was by complete accident. He was walk by Sam’s shop when the man himself called out to him to bring you a package.
Luckily he was already on the way to Ramshackle, so this wasn’t that big of a deal. He was still grumbling about doing “your chores” though. And Ace being Ace, was hungry and decided to check your package to see if there was food in it.
What he found wasn’t food, but an entire box of clothes with women’s sizing. Needless to say, you had an extremely confused Ace knocking on the door.
“Hey!! Are you really a girl?! I was looking at this box-I was hungry- Ugh, I’m making myself look like a huge jerk, aren’t I?”
Deuce Spade
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Deuce is another who wouldn’t notice for a very long time. I think the only way he’ll realize is if either you tell him, or someone else does.
It’ll be a lot easier if you tell him straight up. If someone else does, he’s just going to think that they’re lying to get a reaction out of him for a while.
He’s gonna be so confused for a while after he finds out. Please give him a minute before telling him anything else. He’s doing the shinji pose lmaoo
The poor guy feels so guilty over making a simple mistake. Expect him to randomly apologize for the next week or so.
“W-WHAT?? I’m so sorry! I thought this whole time- ugh, I can’t believe I made such a big mistake. Huh? You’re not mad? Oh..ok.”
Jack Howl
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Jack knew you smelt different from the others in the school, he just couldn’t tell if was because you were magic-less, from a different world, or just because you were around Grim for too long. The idea of you being a girl briefly crossed his mind, but he didn’t give it too much thought.
He found out when you were complaining to Grim about Crowley only giving you clothes in men’s sizing. Now he didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but with his huge ears, he managed to accidentally overhear.
Jack felt incredibly guilty over listening in on a private conversation, but his surprise ultimately overpowered his guilt. He accidentally lets out a loud “Huh?” before covering his mouth with his hand.
When you called out to whoever was listening, Jack awkwardly shuffled out for you to see, lowered ears and all. He immediately started apologizing as his tail stood limp by his side.
*Sigh* “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but be honest with me, is the fact that you’re a girl supposed to be a secret? Or am I just the last person to realize?”
Epel Felmier
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Epel didn’t think much of you more feminine appearance. I mean, he’s almost in the exact same boat as you, so he doesn’t have much room to judge.
This is also what led to him finding out. He was complaining about Vil putting him under a strict diet again and how he was glad there was at least one other “pretty boy” at NRC.
Which led to you correcting him. “You know I’m not actually a guy, right?” Poor guy froze up immediately.
This country boy feels the slight pang of betrayal in his heart; he thought you two were in this together! But it turns out he must bare the curse of “cute” alone. He’s so dramatic lmao.
“Wait, but then how did you- nevermind. Guess I’ll have to deal with Vil’s stupid anti-aging exercises on my own then!” He doesn’t realize that this doesn’t change much of anything, you guys aren’t even in the same dorm.
Sebek Zigvolt
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Sebek never considered you to actually be a girl. Mostly because he was always paying more attention to Malleus’s “great deeds of the day”. He literally just helped someone with their homework.
He’s also another person that will only believe it if you tell him straight up. He’ll think that everyone else is just trying to make a fool out of an esteemed guard of Malleus!
If this is supposed to be a secret, why tell Sebek, first of all make sure you tell him in an empty room. He’s gonna be so loud about the entire ordeal.
If it’s not a secret, that just makes things easier for you. Either you can tell him straight up, or someone else will end up doing for you. He’s gonna feel terrible about it regardless though, so prepare yourself for a very loud apology.
“I HUMBLY APOLOGIZE FOR MY TRANSGRESSIONS! I-oh, I don’t need to yell? Alright, I am still deeply sorry though.”
1K notes · View notes
iceinwhb · 4 months
Text
I don't know what title to give this.
Ok, Idk if some of you missed it, but I'll give you the context, (I'd like to share the story, but honestly, it's not mine, and the author himself deleted it on his own, so I'm unsure if I can give you anything about it).
But I'll give you a little summary of the situation. The delegates from each kingdom are preparing for a sports festival in which all the kingdoms are participating.
Bael comes up with the idea of giving Mc as a trophy, because Bimet was the one who suggested giving a juicy reward, and Sitri, reluctantly, accepted it. Mc could not oppose the idea because Bael said goodbye too quickly, and Mc meets Marbas, who guides her to the stadium.
On her tour, Mc sees our favorite kings from afar, and Lucifer. Marbas tells her that he chose the outfit, and she tells him that if she continues to count her as a prize in the horse race, if she continues to look at them lewdly.
Marbas leaves MC at the end of the race, for a better view, and then Azathot is the one who narrates the events of the race; Satan on his remodeled motorcycle, Mammon throwing money while calmly galloping, Beel eating a donut while flying in a cluster of flies in the form of a horse, and Levi, who was threatening his horse to win the race, and finally, after all this, Lucifer.
We are mentioned that Lucifer had a habit of riding unicorns, and not only that, but Mc waits impatiently for Lucifer to win. To no one's surprise, Lucifer grabs Mc by the waist and takes her to the stables, where they practice… not questionable acts, of course.
And they make it clear… three things:
The angels' dicks (it is not clear if all of them) provoke orgasms at the slightest penetration (don't laugh, it's real).
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2.Lucifer is brutally honest… And he says things that kill the moment (Like Satan, of course).
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Ignore that there is something else there, simply, that happened to say hello. (Now he thought not only of God, but also of his brothers, how thoughtful.), and I don't know exactly what that is supposed to mean, if they were having sex. Open speculation, because I think there is a reason they have chastity belts, and Luci is laying the cards on the table.
3. The unicorn was impregnated, because she witnessed Lucifer breaking Mc's vagina/ass.
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Apparently, in the WHB world there is no Holy Spirit, but rather, simply the miracle of conception happens upon seeing the sexual act involving an angel (I am doubtful as to whether this works with all angels, and whether God is also included in this phenomenon). It's even made clear that the unicorn is a virgin, so it was “impossible”.
Y… I want to know what exactly it is that gives PB the craziest ideas to put in a single card. Being honest, the really good thing about it all, were the kings' costumes, and how the relationships between the nobles of other countries are.
And an honorable mention to our baby Morax, who almost went with god, because the bandages came undone. :(
Also for Abbadon, who is half prison (why would there be a prison in hell if his rules are so non-descriptive?).
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nyasiaaaaa · 8 months
Text
In the Bleak Mid-Winter
Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem reader (Nurse)  Fem reader x Arthur ( platonic )
Summary: This is a story about two people who become constants in each others lives, and eventually fall for each. While one learns to love again, the other learns the cost of loving a man like him. 
Word count: 5k
Warnings: Cursing, angst, fluff ,Tommy Shelby, y/n eats ( If I missed anything or you think something should be added please tell me.) Major character death from season 4 episode like 1/2
A/N: part 1 takes place during season two, part 2/3 season 3 and 4/5/6 season 4. This is a Slow burn there will be smut eventually. 
Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4   part 5
********************
It's been a year. 
A lot of things have changed since then; you've changed. 
You're not the same person you were a year ago; you're still a nurse and still work in the hospital, but in London now. 
You know the other nurse in hospital like the last, you eat lunch together but never go out. They always ask, but you always have the same excuse. 
It's not like you're lying. You really don't have anyone to watch her, but if you wanted to, you could find someone, but don't. Honestly, though, you prefer the company of a bottle of whiskey over anyone else. 
You also never have the energy to do anything anymore; you wake up throughout the night, then wake up to go to work, come home tired from a 12-hour shift, and go to sleep to do it all over again. 
You barely eat, you barely sleep. 
When you look in the mirror, you're just a hollow version of yourself, like you don't have control over your body. You're just sitting back as it goes through the motions, as someone else controls you. 
She's not the only reason you can't sleep; if she's not waking you up because of her screams, you're waking yourself up with your own. 
These nightmares are so haunting that most times, after you wake up, you just stay up. 
And that's where you're at now, waking up from a dream like every other night. 
You thrash around in your bed and suddenly wake up coughing as you grab hold of your throat. You get up from your bed, covered in sweat, and walk downstairs to the kitchen, rubbing your chest as you catch your breath. 
You walk around the corner to the kitchen and instantly jump when you see someone sitting at your table in the dark. The old you would've freaked, grabbed your gun and threatened them.
But you now couldn't care less; you just grabbed two glasses and a bottle of whiskey off the drink table. You bring it over and set it down, pouring the whiskey into each cup, filling it halfway, and then sliding one over to your companion. 
You then sit down and take a swing of your drink before reaching for your pack of cigarettes. 
"Want one," you ask, holding a cig out to them.
They take it, and you pull out one more for yourself; you then strike up a match, reaching towards them to light theirs first; once they got closer to the flame, it became clear who was sitting at this table with you. 
You light the cigarette, then pull the match to light your own; you take a drag, hold it in, and then blow it out. You do this action a couple more times, and neither of you says a word as you smoke; you both just sit there in silence. 
You finish up your cig, put it out in the ashtray, then proceed  to light another. Again, you smoke in silence, but this time, as you're almost finished with your cig, you speak up. 
"I thought you would've sent Micheal," You say as you reach to ash your cig in the ashtray.
He finishes up his cig, putting it out before responding to you. "He was busy," he shrugs. 
"'M honestly, I would've preferred Micheal." You put your cig out and then took a sip of your drink.
"Well, looks like you're out of luck 'cause I'm here." 
"Yes, you are; please do tell me why it is that you're here after all this time." 
"We got served a black hand," he spoke with such seriousness, but you were confused. 
"Ok, am I supposed to know what that means or what it has to do with me" 
He took a deep breath and said, "We have to tighten house. We killed one of theirs way back, and now they're coming to get even." 
You pursed your lips and turned your head to the side, slightly shrugging your shoulders. "And what does that have to do with me." 
"They killed John." 
"May he rest in peace? "even though you didn't mean for it to, it had come out more like a question than a statement. 
"But again, what does this have to do with me," you asked
He let out a dry laugh, licking his lips, then got up and got in your face. He took hold of your wrist and bent down to your height. 
"Because the Italian Mafia doesn't care if you don't fuck with me, they are going to kill everyone that has ever spoken to me, anyone who's ever been close to me to hurt me to break me down before killing me."
Even though he tried to seem calm and collected, you couldn't see it in his eyes or face, but you could hear it in his voice. 
He was hurting. 
You ripped your wrist from his grip and stood up, moving closer to him and getting in his face. 
"Well, Tommy, it seems like you have a real problem on your hands; best of luck to you." You smiled at him, then stood up and began to walk away
Suddenly, you were pushed against the wall and turned to face him. 
"Look, I—"his speech was cut short once he heard a cry coming from upstairs; his eyes darted down to you, his head tilted as he looked at you. 
"Tommy, I-"you start but stop once Tommy pushes off you.
You tried to get past him to go up the steps first, but he pulled out a gun on you and pushed you back into the kitchen. He slowly took a step back as you took steps forward.
"Do it, Do it, Tommy. Be a man. Do it," You said as you walked forward; you held your head high as you spoke so there was no room for doubt on Tommy's part. 
He looked at you, puzzled, then shut the door in your face. You immediately rushed to the door, but it was too late. He locked it. You tightened your grip on the door knob as you jiggled it relentlessly, 
"Tommy…. Fuck— Tommy, please" You were starting to panic; you had to get to her first. 
You dashed over to the drawers and started to throw everything out and slam it shut as you moved on to the next one. The key was in one of these drawers; it had to be you had remembered putting it in here you—
You found it in the last drawer; you ran over to the door but slipped on the things you had thrown on the floor and fell on your back, making the key fall out of your hand. You hop on your knees, ignoring the pain in your back that grew with every move you made as you searched the now messy floor for the key; you can already barely see because of the darkness, but the tears that start to build only make it worse. 
Your hand brushed against something sharp, and you turned your head in its direction as you stretched your hand out again, patting it around. Your hand instantly comes in contact with the cold metal key. You grab it, rushing to the door. You try to place the key in the door, but it keeps brushing past the hole. 
You stopped, took a deep breath, and tried again, and despite your shaking hand, you were able to place the key in and unlock the door. As soon as the door opens, you ran up the step to her room. 
It's too late. 
You walk into the room and see Tommy holding your daughter in his hands. 
Without thinking, you say, "She's not yours." 
It's a lie, you know it, and so does he. Anyone could see from a mile away that she was his, and it's not like she looked like him or you even; she was still too young to look like anyone. But she had those eyes, the same eyes her father had. 
You look up at Tommy and know you are in trouble. He had just met her, and already he was in love. He was already hell-bent on taking you with him, but now that he knew of her, there was no way he was letting y'all go. 
You're about to speak up but get cut off by some men behind you.
"We're here, Mr.Shebly. What do you want us to do?" 
You didn't turn around to see if you knew the men; you just kept your eyes forced ahead on Tommy. 
"Pack up the house, everything; we'll go through it later and see what we want." He barely spoke above a whisper and never looked up as he slowly rocked your baby back and forth. 
"Oi sir and your car is ready when you are." 
"Thank you, curly." 
They left, leaving you and Tommy alone. 
You opened your mouth to speak but didn't know what to say, so you stood there like a gaping fish as you struggled to find words. 
"It doesn't matter what you say; tonight, you will leave here with me, and so will the baby. You can put up a fight, but we will drug you if we must." The way he spoke, you knew he meant it; there would not be a fight, you couldn't take on Tommy, let alone all the men downstairs.
 So you just nodded your head, ok. 
Satisfied with your answer, he proceeded to exit the room but then stopped and turned towards you. 
"What's her name," he asks. 
"Ruby" 
"Ruby," He whispers, "Hi. Ruby, grab what you want and meet me in the car," He says, then leaves and goes downstairs. 
You want to cry, tear the room to pieces, throw a fit, and just sit there and cry. But you can't, so you make yourself and your daughter a travel bag, packing only what you need and leaving the rest for the guys to pack up. 
You finish packing and head upstairs; you walk past the men packing up your kitchen and head straight for the car. Once you're outside, you see a man waiting for you by the backseat door; he opens it for you as you approach it. You walk up to him, handing off your luggage, giving him a smile, and thanking him before sliding in next to Tommy, who's still holding your daughter tight to his chest. 
The driver places your stuff in the trunk, runs over to the driver's side, and hops in, wasting no time. He takes off instantly, driving to a destination unknown to you. 
 You glance over at Tommy, who is still in awe at seeing your daughter. You don't even try to take your baby away from Tommy, knowing that he will hold her as long as he can. 
So you sit there staring out the window, saying goodbye to the place you've called home for the past year, and try not to cry.
************************
For a long time, you were confused; you knew this wasn't the way to Tommy's house. It was east, and you had been heading west. You were about to ask where you were going, but then you started to recognize your surroundings, the shops you've walked past hundreds if not thousands of times. You even saw some people you knew past patients. 
You were back in Birmingham. 
Soon after you cross the line into Birmingham, it doesn't take long for you to reach your destination; you pull up next to many small townhomes. 
 Before you  get the chance, your door is opened for you, thanking the driver as you step out and observe your surroundings.  
"Where are we, Tommy," you ask. 
"We're home," he says simply, then starts making his way into one of the homes. 
You follow closely behind him as he steps into the house; you take in your new surroundings as you follow him; there are steps directly in front of you and a living room to your right that leads Into a kitchen. As soon as you step into the living room following Tommy, you're greeted by a maid who cut you off as you are about to ask Tommy another question. 
"Welcome back, Mr. Shebly. I set Charlie down for a nap upstairs a few minutes ago and just put dinner in the oven. Do you need anything else from me before I go" 
"No, Mary, that will be all thank you."
"It's not a problem, Mr.Shelby," she said, then went to leave but suddenly stopped at the door. "Oh, and I've had a bassinet put upstairs per your request." She gave both of you a tight smile, shutting the door as she exits, leaving you and Tommy alone. 
Tommy doesn't say a word as he turns away from you and walks upstairs; you're about to start looking around when a knock comes at the door. You get to the front to open it and is greeted by the driver, who has your bags in hand. You reach out, taking them from his hands and setting them to the side before giving him a smile. 
"Thank you so much; hold on, let me find my purse to pay you," you say as you step away from him in search of your bags.
The driver quickly stops you in your tracks when he calls after you using a name you've never heard associated with you. 
"Oi, that's quite alright, Mrs.Shebly; Tommy pays me good," he said, giving you a smile, then shuts the door before you could even correct him. 
"Ok," you say yourself as you shrug it off; you turn around just in time to see Tommy walking down the step, and you notice that your daughter is no longer in his hand. You assumed he must've put her down upstairs in the crib Mary set up. 
Once he gets down the steps, he immediately makes his way toward the Living room. He sits down in one of the chairs, and you decide to take a seat across from him. 
He pulls out his pack of cigs, offers you one, which you accept, and then takes one for himself. His lights yours first, then his own. You take a couple drags of your cig, then begin asking him a million questions you have swimming around in your head. 
"How long do we have to stay here," you ask as you blow out smoke and then take another drag. 
He shrugs his shoulders as he waves his hand around in no particular manner, "for however long it takes." 
You press your lips tightly and roll your eyes; you take a deep breath and let it out as you speak again, "Are we staying here with you."
"Yeah" 
"Is it safe?" 
"Yeah, you will have two guards stationed outside 24/7." 
"And where will you be?" 
"Out" 
"So Tommy, let me get this straight: I'm supposed to stay here for who knows how long, under constant surveillance from your men, and I'm assuming I'm not allowed to leave." You paused, waiting for an answer, to which he gave you a slight nod back. "Right, so basically, I'm a prisoner; I'm your prisoner. I'm not ok with that, Tommy. I-" 
Arthur suddenly burst through your door, calling out for Tommy. 
"Oi Tommy, I- "Arthur paused once his eyes landed on you; a big smile slowly crept up his face as he started making his way towards you.
"Sista, it's good to see you," Arthur said as he hugged you, picking you up slightly. 
"It's good to see you too...... I'm so sorry about John," you said as you hugged him back, and you were being honest. You didn't miss anything from your old life, but Arthur. After all the years, y'all were around each other. He truly started to feel like the brother you never had. 
Arthur pulled back from you slightly and looked you in the eyes; you gave him a tight smile, then pulled him back closer and hugged him tighter. 
Arthur pulled back again as he asked you a question, "Oi, I heard I had a niece. Where she." 
Before you were able to answer his question, Tommy interrupted you. 
"Are you two finished yet" You heard Tommy ask from behind you, making Arthur drop you. 
"Sorry, Tommy," he chuckled as he stepped further from you. "There's been an incident down at the boat house; we need you down there." 
"Thank you, Arthur; I'll meet you outside," Tommy said, then went into the kitchen to gather his things. 
Arthur gave you a small smile and whispered a quick bye before heading outside. 
You turn to face Tommy, who is putting on his coat; you see his collar sticking up, so you go over to him to help him fix it. You grab onto the jacket and pull him in close to you. 
"When will you be back?" You ask as you pat down his collar.
"When I'm finished" 
"That's not cool, Tommy; we have things we need to talk about." You grab on his collar and tighten. 
He gave you a look that you could only describe as assumed, then pulled you off him, holding your wrist in his hands. 
"And we will when I get back," he said, dropping your wrist and walking away. He suddenly stopped and turned around to face you. "Watch Charlie for me," He said with a tight smile, then reached for the door. 
You are so fed up with his bullshit that you pick up the first thing your hands touched and throw it at him. 
"Fuck you, Tommy" You screamed at him as the glass cup left your hands. 
Your aim is ass, so the cup smashed against the wall next to him, missing him by a couple feet. But still, it stopped him in his tracks; he stood there for a second, then turned around to face you, gave you a smug smile, then said
"You already did love." 
He quickly went to the door, leaving you there standing there stunned. 
You're so mad at him for coming into your life (again), picking you up, and dragging you into his mess (again). He constantly treats you like gum on the bottom of his shoe, and you're tired of it. 
You have this anger building up inside you; you're so mad, so you do the only thing you can think of. 
You scream.
You stand there and scream; you yell out towards the ceiling; you scream till your lungs start to burn. And then you collapse onto the floor. 
How did you end up here again? You thought you finally got away from this life. 
Before you had a chance to wallow in your self-pity, you heard a cry come from upstairs. You get slowly and make your way up the narrow stairs. Once you get upstairs, you notice there are only two rooms upstairs, one the bathroom and the other the bedroom. 
You enter the bedroom and see Charlie still fast asleep on the bed, the only bed, you might add. Your baby cried from her bassinet, and you went over, picking her up and rocked her  back and forth in her arms. She must've heard your scream and got startled. You were really loud; you're shocked that Charlie didn't wake up. 
You were able to get her back to sleep quite quickly; you placed her back in her bassinet and walked out the door back downstairs. 
As you walked down the steps, you started to sniff the air around you; it smelled like something was burning. 
You took off sprinting towards the kitchen once you remembered the dinner Mary said she had placed in the oven. You yanked the oven open and reached in to take the pan out. 
You jump back, saying a million curse words as you immediately pull your thumb in your mouth. You are so out of it that you forgot an oven mitt. You suck on your thumb for a couple of more seconds as you glance around the kitchen till your eyes land on the oven mitt. You grab them off the counter, head back to the oven, and pull the pot, placing it on the top of the stove. 
You open the pot, and to your surprise, it's a chicken roast dinner, and it's not that burnt, only a bit; really, it just looks extra crispy. 
You place the top back on and glance down at the clock next to the stove; it's barely a quarter past three. 
You decide to let the meal cool down, you get your bag from the door, and put it up where you see best upstairs. 
After you finished unpacking what you had on hand, you pre-made a couple of bottles for your daughter and then joined Charlie in the bed for a little nap after scooting him over a bit. 
That boy sleeps wild.
***********************
You felt yourself being shaken back and forth softly as if it was too hard for the person to push you. You open your eyes slowly and squint as they try to adjust to the dark; you look around the room in search of the person who worked you up, and soon, your eyes land on the smaller version of Thomas Shelby. 
The little boy turned his head to the side as she looked at you curiously. 
You sat up on your elbows and took a quick glance over to the clock next to you; it was seven on the dot. You turned back and looked over at Charlie, who was still looking at you.
"Yes, Charlie," you asked. 
"I'm hungry; where, Da," he asked, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. 
"He's out right now; I'm here. Is that ok," you asked; he nodded slowly in response.
"Ok, good, I have some food downstairs for you; we just have to get the baby up and well go, ok." 
"Baby?"
"Yeah, come look." You stood up, grabbed him, placed him on your hip, and showed him the baby below. 
"Who that" 
You thought about your answer before you responded to him. You didn't see the harm in telling him the truth, so you said, "She's your sister; her name is Ruby." 
He turned up to look at you so quick that you thought he gave himself whiplash. 
"My sista," he gasped and then tried to reach down to touch her.
"Yep, but wait, be careful, I'll put you down, and I'll grab her and show you." 
You put him down softly and then pick up your little girl; she begins to stir as you gently pick her up. You turned to see Charlie sitting waiting patiently with his feet swinging off the side of the bed. 
You sat down next to him and turned your body to face him; he glanced down at the baby, up at you, and down at the baby again. 
"Wow!" He said, then jumped down from the bed and took hold of your hand.
"Come on, me and baby hungry," he said, leading you downstairs. 
Once you got downstairs, you had him sit at the small table in the kitchen, and you kept Ruby in your arms as you fixed him a plate and then yourself. You warmed both plates on the stove and grabbed a pre-made bottle from the fridge while you waited. 
You sat down next to Charlie and offered him a proposition: "You want to feed her with me." 
He shook his head up and down so fast and tried to reach out to her. 
You pulled away from him slightly. "Wait, I'll hold her, and you hold the bottle, ok?"
He nodded and waited for you to give him the bottle; you showed him how to hold the bottle at an angle best for the baby and then let him take over. 
He reached over you slightly as he held the bottle to Ruby, and she took it instantly, drinking fast. 
After she was finished, you took her back upstairs to sleep; when you came back down, your food was finished warming, so you took both your plates out and cut up the food for him before handing it to him. 
Together, y'all both sat at the table and ate in silence.
"Are you my new ma" 
The piece of chicken you placed in your mouth instantly went down the wrong pipe, and you started to cough, your eyes began to water as your chest tightened. You reach for your glass of water on the table as you beat against your chest. 
As you drank your water, you glanced over at Charlie, who had started playing with his food. You cleared your throat a couple of times as you rubbed against it and drank more water, then set the cut back down next to your plate. 
You smack your lips against your teeth as you begin to speak. "Umm, w-what makes you uhhh what makes you say that." 
Charlie shrugged his causal shoulders, still glancing down at his food. "You're staying here with me and da; you sleep in the same bed as me and da and your baby’s ma." 
You tilted your head to the side, a puzzled look dancing across your face; you leaned down closer to Charlie and asked him a question, "You're four right." 
"Yep," he said, popping a piece of chicken in his mouth. 
"Um, yeah, no, Charlie, I'm not your "new" ma, and if I was, I wouldn't be your new ma, just another one, ok. Cause you ma Grace will always be your ma." 
He didn't say anything back to you, just nodded back slowly; it was clear that he was full now and probably was sleepy again. You assumed that you both had a long day of travel and these significant changes would take a second to get used to. 
You took both plates away, deciding that you were also finished eating; you quickly cleaned the plates and placed them in the drying rack. After you put the pot of food in the fridge, you pick Charlie up, take him upstairs with you. 
By the time your foot hit the last step, Charlie was somehow fast asleep; you brought him into the bedroom and carefully placed him down in the middle of the bed. You grab the covers, bring them over his body, and tuck him in slightly. 
After you check on your baby and find her still fast asleep. You decide to go back downstairs and sit in the living room to wait for Tommy; he should be home soon; he has been gone for hours now. Whatever he had to work on should be done by now……. Right?
.
.
.
You feel your oxygen supply getting cut off, and you start to struggle to breathe; you try to turn your head but to no avail because whatever's is on top of you is keeping you in place.
You begin to panic as you realize that you are asleep and have to force yourself away to be able to deal with whatever is keeping you from breathing. 
You feel your fingers begin twitching, then your eyes, and finally, after what seems like forever, you're able to open your eyes.
You squint your eyes as you try to help them adjust to the darkness, but it's still pitch black; you soon realize that the reason you can't see isn't because it's dark but because something lays on top of you. 
You lift your hand cautiously as you slowly lift Charlie's body off your head and back into the middle.
You lay there for a second as you try to catch your breath, then slowly, you sit up to check on your daughter, seeing as she has yet to wake you for a bottle tonight. You take a quick peek over into her bassinet. 
She's not there. 
You quickly shoot up in a panic, thinking your eyes are playing jokes on you, but once you get closer to the bassinet, you can confirm that she is not in there. 
You try to take deep to calm yourself down, but it gets caught in your throat as you slowly begin to spiral, and your mind starts to race with a million questions.
Where is she?
How could I not hear someone take her? 
When did I get up here? 
.
.
.
Wait, you pause for a second and try to think back to tonight. You didn't get in the bed. You remember waiting on the couch for Tommy; you must've fallen asleep, but how did you get up here?
Your head quickly pans over your shoulder, and in the bed next to Charlie, you see Tommy and your daughter lying on his chest and a half-empty bottle on the nightstand next to him. 
Relief floods your body as you slowly sit back down on the bed; you look back over at Tommy. The sight before you is truly something; if Tommy wasn't the devil reincarnated, it might make your heart swell. But instead, you're sitting there contemplating whether or not to get her off him and place her back in her bed. 
She seems fine, and there isn't much room for her or Tommy to roll around plus the risk of having to deal with her waking up in a sour mood if you move her isn't something you feel like doing right now. 
You lay back in bed next to Charlie, deciding to leave them be. 
As you fall back to sleep, instead of counting sheep, you tell yourself repeatedly.
That this is just for now and that
Thomas Shelby is in your past and not your future. 
***********************
Tag list:
@thhriller@macchiadinchiostro @naevisct @johnmurphys-sass @fannibalsrule @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @sis7890
I apologize if y/n having a kid is a huge turn-off for some people, mainly because there isn't any warning, and we're so deep into the story. I wanted it to be a surprise, but again, I'm sorry. Also, this isn't the last part. There are two more, and then that's it; I broke it down because I felt like having everything In one or two parts would've made it seem like Y/n and Tommy's end result would become too quick and not in a organic way. Also, I've been told this story gives dead doves don't cry or something like that; it's not, I promise, a happy end or as happy as person can be with Thomas Shelby. Anyways, thanks for reading. The story should be finished and fully uploaded all parts by Friday, Feb 9th.
P.S: I can't tell if this chapter is shitty or not I was just trying to get it out for yall so I'm sorry if it is.
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boxboxlewis · 1 year
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fake dating, maxiel
Daniel picks Max up at the airport. He seems a little distracted, although he’s friendly enough to the clouds of gnat-people who buzz around asking them for selfies, for autographs. In the car he turns the entertainment system up loud and drums his fingers on the steering wheel as he drives, staring straight out at the horizon.
Max’s first thought is that Daniel is regretting having invited him to Perth. But then he imagines his therapist raising her eyebrows at him, and ok, yeah: there are other possibilities. Maybe something bad is happening in Daniel’s personal life. Maybe someone in his family is sick.
“How is your sister,” Max asks.
Daniel glances at him, and turns the stereo down. “My—you mean Michelle?"
Max reminds himself to be patient. “Daniel. You do not have any other sisters.” 
It’s hard, trying to read Daniel’s face from the side. His mouth twists and then smooths out again. Max doesn’t know what that means. 
“Michelle is great,” Daniel says finally. 
“Ok,” Max says. “Your parents? They are ok also?”
Daniel frowns, now. “Max, what the fuck. Is this like—a weird pass-agg way of saying I should’ve asked about your family?”
Max gives his imaginary therapist an imaginary middle finger. See, this is where you’ve got me. He says, “You are being weird, and I thought maybe—maybe you didn’t actually want me to be here. Sometimes, people invite you to things but they do not actually want you to say yes, it is just a, a polite thing, and you are supposed to say Oh thanks so much and then not do it.” 
Daniel starts to say something, but Max isn’t finished. He powers on. “But then I thought—my therapist says it is not healthy, to think people are upset at me always if they are upset. Because maybe, it is something else. So I thought, maybe your family. There was something. Maybe one of them was sick. So I asked you.”
Daniel blows out a long breath. The windows are down and the air smells spicy and warm, like recent rain. “All right,” he says, “yeah, it’s—I am being weird, but it’s not—everyone in my family is fine. And I definitely want you to be here.” He shoots a look at Max, like he wants to check if Max believes him. “It’s just—I did something kind of dumb, and I think maybe you’re going to be mad about it. And like, if you are, that’s fair, because, uh. I mean, I can—I’ll get it, if you want to just leave.”
Max says, “If you did it, I am sure it is not that dumb,” and Daniel closes his eyes for a second.
“Ok, well, remember you said that when you’ve heard what I’m about to say, ok? So like. My cousin is getting married, next weekend.”
“Oh, you’re right. That is dumb as fuck,” Max says flatly, and then cracks up when Daniel scowls at him. “What, come on! What is so dumb about your cousin getting married.”
Daniel squeezes his hands on the steering wheel, then relaxes them. Squeezes them, relaxes them. “Yeah, no, that part’s ok. Uh, so I like—I told my cousin I would go.”
“Daniel, that is fine,” Max says. “I can just stay at the farm, I can entertain myself for one day.”
“I-told-her-I’m-bringing-a-date,” Daniel says, words all running together. It takes Max’s mind a second to catch up. “I told her—basically, like, I told her I was in a long-term relationship and I would bring my boyfriend to the wedding. And I, uh, I said you’re the boyfriend. So. My whole family thinks we’re dating and we’re really serious about each other.”
Max contemplates the landscape for a while. The sky is huge and cloudless. It looks like you could float up into it, if you wanted to: bob around on a nice thermal, like some sort of raptor.
“Uh. Max?”
“I am thinking,” Max lies. In fact he’s not having any thoughts at all. He is imagining being a hawk. If he starts thinking about what Daniel said, he’s going to explode into a mass of a thousand squirming questions. Such as, Your family think you’re gay? Are they ok with it? Are they right? Have you dated guys before? What were they like? What were you like, when you were with them? Why did you lie? Why did you pick me? Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Could you tell that I wanted to kiss you always when I was younger—
“Max, listen, I’m really sorry, I know this is messed up.”
“No,” Max says, “it’s not—I have a lot of questions, that is all, but I am not… upset.”
“Ok, well, that’s good.” Daniel scrubs a hand over the back of his neck. 
“We can go to the wedding,” Max says, deciding it as he says it. “I don’t think it will be such a big deal, to pretend we are together for one day.”
Daniel lets out a wheezing sound like he’s just been punched in the stomach. “Ah—ok. Yeah. Great.”
“Of course we are good friends, so it will not be so different. Except that probably we will have to hold hands,” he adds, half-joking. 
Daniel nods, and then flicks a glance at Max and says, “Handholding, huh? Fuck, if I’d thought that far ahead I would never have suggested this.” Max punches him in the arm. They’re joking, just like normal. It’s all fine. It’s all ok.
Daniel says, “We’ll probably have to like, dance together also. It would be weird if we were at the wedding and didn’t dance.”
Max never dances at weddings. He says, “Ok, we can—I mean, I cannot dance, but I can stick my arms out and sway.” He demonstrates, there in the passenger seat of Daniel’s car, and Daniel looks at him and laughs.
“There’s one other thing,” Daniel says, and Max braces himself: what will it be this time. Max, I told everyone we adopted a child together. Max, this whole thing was a prank for my public Instagram, someone is hiding in the back seat and filming us. Max, I’m just joking, this is all a joke.
What Daniel actually says is “It’s not like, a destination wedding, but it’s a couple of hours away and uh. Because, you know, we’re a couple. Or I mean, we’re not, but like everyone thinks we are, so. We’ll have to like, share a bed or whatever.”
“Oh,” says Max, relaxing abruptly. “Daniel, that will of course be fine. I do not mind touching you.”
Daniel breaks into a coughing fit. When he’s finished he clears his throat and says, “Oh—ok. Yeah, great.”
Max turns the music back up, and looks out at the sky. It will be nice, he thinks: pretending to be Daniel’s, for a day.
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