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kalims · 1 year

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‎˃ ᵕ ˂ . . "you are the most beautiful person I've ever seen in my life—and this is the first time we meet so why do you like me so much?!"

meeting a beautiful exchange student,

summary. rsa and nrc have collaborated to issue an exchange program, whoever got sent to rsa was an unfortunate soul and he was just lucky enough to meet the one that got sent to nrc—the catch is, said student is insanely beautiful.

and, that student seemed particularly fond of him.

characters. overblot gang.

includes. gn reader.

cw. reader is described as beautiful but for the most part I usually don't describe reader, you are beautiful tho <3

note. if you haven't read through who overblots yet it's best to not interact, unless you're perfectly fine with the spoilers of who overblots

also all my breaths turn into coughs and it is very hard to breathe, especially when it's one of those intense ones 😭

favoritism in jamil's part I love it so much go read it all the others are mehh. jamils part >>> for the jamil bbg stan ellie too

riddle rosehearts

out of everyone,, riddle thins between the border of disliking rsa and just respecting them. well, the dislike mostly stems from the fact that it's his school's apparent 'rival' and he's got an ego big enough to get upset by the constant losses nrc dealt with the likes of them.

though if they're friendly enough he won't spare them the saltiness.

but seriously—out of concern for his fellow, why'd they have to send a student from his dorm? he can feel a headache forming because he just knows that particular student would break a few rules in his absence.

at the very least he hopes they won't slack in their academic duties.

so when he turns around, he certainly doesn't expect an unfamiliar face in front of him.

(riddle is proud to say that he knows the faces of his school mates quite well)

let me rephrase,, a very attractive face.

one of the most attractive riddle's ever seen in years and don't get him wrong! it's true that he hasn't thought of romance or anything related to that at all, pardon his languange and all but goddamn.

riddle splutters and he doesn't know whether or not that he did, or that he did because you just smiled. "o-oh um.."

see. if you mixed in riddle rosehearts and shy together most nrc students would have a hard time believing it but he's sure glad that there's not any roaming around the halls right now.

if there was imaginary sparkles around you he definitely sees them. "hello!" a greeting far too enthusiastic for a first meeting and you seem to realize that yourself,, so you clear your throat.

and your next one is like a more tamer version than your first. "hello."

oh god he hates to say it but you're cute.

like... cute cute.

he'd never thought he'd ever use that.. word to describe someone.

your lips trembles, almost like you're excited. "oh my gosh. hi! you're riddle rosehearts aren't you?! I watch the videos of the competitions you're in!" you grin and visibly skip from your standing.

riddle turns red as he nods dumbly.

"oh.. really? um... thanks." he says. clenching his hands together behind his back and he's aware of the awfully stiff, formal posture he has. somehow every insecurity he had just popped out and he's now conscious of them.

for the first time, he worries about his appearance.

is his bow even properly tied?! gods.. he never thought about it but the bow probably made him look unappealing and more girly.

but you look positively flushed, he notes. was it too cold? are you sick? should he hand you his jacket? well.. he is feeling a little warm.. "yes.. you're amazing! and, and—"

riddle didn't even question the sun outside, bright and searing just like his face when he thought of the weather being too cold for you.

cater was just walking around, stopping when he caught sight of the scene in front of him but he just had to take out his phone and snap a picture of the two, red faced people in front of him.

"hehe."

he just hopes that riddle won't ever find out about the picture because if he does.. it's off with his head.

ㅤ

leona kingscholar

frankly leona could care less.

his dislike of rsa students doesn't particularly stem from the rivalry. he doesn't care about that at all but the sparkly, princey attitudes just gets on his nerve. to pair it up with their equally flashy attire? yeah, he's not having it.

he'd rather them stay away from him because if he sees any of them he won't hold back from wrecking them.

well that goddamn crowley just had to pick one of his own didn't he? one of vil's would've fit the bill nicely and a savanaclaw student would stand out like a sore thumb. though he can't nor will he stop said student from picking a few fights.

knowing the attitude of his residents it wouldn't take a long time for them to get sent back.

and as for that rsa student that got exchanged.

he doesn't give a dam—

"hey there."

leona's nose twitches. a [scent] smell filling his nose, a scent he doesn't quite recognize yet it still hits like a pleasant breeze compared to those over the top perfumed pomefiore idiots.

in short this person smells good. not in the way pomefiore does but whoever this is just did.

albeit a little dazed, leona turns his head to the side. meeting with crinkled eyes halfway. he just needed one look at your attire to be able to discern that you're the mysterious exchange student from rsa.

besides the obvious patch in your uniform the rsa students just have a certain feel.

leoma just stares at you.

silently.

the amount of time he spent just oogling like a fool embarrasses him to no end but can you blame him? your face alone would fetch hundreds of admirers.

you blink. "uh.. hello?" you wave a hand in the lion's head. funny how you just casually walked into his den, stuck your palm out into his face and is still in one good piece right now.

perhaps catching himself in the act leona's brow twitches. "what are you looking at?" he huffs.

he eyes you silently. most people would probably start putting on their shitting pants if he displayed them the amount of irritation he showed you.

you? you just smiled.

"me? aren't you the one I should be asking that?" you joke.

well you do have a point but he still rolls his eyes.

leona notes that you seem to have a strange fascination with his swaying tail, unable to keep your eyes off whenever it sways naturally. sometimes he just sways it by will to see if you really are interested but by the quick glance you spare you really are.

he ignores the flush on his face and scowls. it was totally unlike him to be like this by some.. pretty face! "whatever."

"you're leona kingscholar aren't you?! oh god and I'm standing in front of you!" you had to bite your lips to prevent the shit eating grin from fully consuming your face.

yeah? so he was. but why in the hell are you so interested in him..?

you place your hands above your hips. you look like a wannabe boss, leona muses. it's amusingly cute. "aaajasjajas can you please sign an autograph?" you say, scratching your cheek in bash.

leona almost resists the urge to roll his eyes. "autograph? you want somethin' memorable?" like you wanted something from him to keep for life.

you nod enthusiastically. memorable, memorable. wouldn't it be better if he made you memories itself? you know. spending time with him to the fact that you can remember the times vividly.

and wouldn't it better to keep him, all in his glory?

if he outright said that you might just pass out though.

so he'll start with the basics.

"yeah. I'm leona, what about you? what's your name?"

the process always starts with a name don't it? well. the bonding atleast, disgustingly enough. wait why is he even doing this?

ㅤ

azul ashengrotto

azul wonders what kind of magic the exchange student from rsa holds.

it's not ominous or anything. crowley banned him from scamming nrc students but he never said anything about rsa students.

crowley doesn't know it himself but choosing one of the octavinelle students to get sent there works as great benefit for azul. just imagine all the things he could learn.. good thing most residents does what he asks so that one didn't even question when he implied spying for him.

of course he didn't say it outright but beating to the point but his residents seem to be getting used to him.

and he knows that the vil schoenheit would be delighted to indulge in the,, information he'll learn from neige, it's not that hard to tell the grudge the man has for him. he'd be mad too if he got upped that many times but if he said that out loud he'd probably be banned from pomefiore.

maybe rook hunt fits the category more.

oh.. only ursula knows the amount of schemes,, I mean business deals going on inside his head.

apparently he needed to get his head out of the clouds because thinking too much about his totally genius, non-scammy ideas whilst walking around the halls wasn't a good idea at all.

the fact that he collided with someone the moment he turned a corner was enough proof.

you see azul isn't a very strong man. all the power didn't go in his physical build but rather his mental one. he's rather frail compared to all of his fellow dorm leaders, hell.. that purple haired kid that follows vil around is stronger than him!

so the collision actually made him wobble, uncharacteristically taken off guard he stumbled.

pain sears across his back side and he doesn't know whether to groan or feel embarrassed. was anyone watching? he'll die.

all he knows is that someone collided into him.

azul places a carefully practiced smile, closing his eyes to flash the person in front of him a kind tilt of the lips. "how clumsy of me." he says. you are the clumsy one. he stubbornly denies in his mind.

the closed eyes always obstructed his view but that won't make any difference.

except this time it did.

he opens his eyes. "are you—" okay?

what in the name of ursula.

azul immediately shuts his mouth, opens it but once he realizes no words were coming out he shuts it again. he just gapes, with wide eyes and equally wide mouth.

actually wait he isn't okay.

first of all that person in front of him? was drop dead gorgeous and he's a little embarrassed to see that you've already got yourself on your feet and offering a hand while he's still trying to look good.

on the ground.

somehow.

azul turns red and he pursues his lips. there's comical steam floating out of his head, and the vapor had magically fogged up his glasses.

you stare at him gesturing him to take your hand after minutes of silence. azul dusts himself off. "oh.. thank you very much." he clears his throat. "I don't think I've seen you before."

perking up, you reply; "I'm new I guess. the exchange student ring a bell?"

"I see."

he makes a show of opening his mouth then nodding, acting like he didn't know before. it's not hard to miss when the patch of rsa is stitched proudly on your chest area. seems like they modified it for your sake.

azul smiles thinly. "in that case. I'm free right now, why don't I show you around?"

you beam brightly and nod enthusiastically. "oh gods.. thank you so much! I was actually lost, new school and stuff." you laugh. you don't blame yourself at all, this school was huge and your school didn't use mirrors a lot.

people would be suprised about the students preferring to walk because of 'nature' of the main seven heroes it worships preferred to. the students from the mermaid door like to walk despite them usually being clumsy.

though this man did look familiar but you can't place your finger on how.

"my name is azul ashengrotto, I'm a second year. I manage a place called monstro lounge, you could visit if you'd like."

why is he even bringing up monstro lounge so fast? he's totally not trying to impress you.

well it did work.

you raise your brows, your eyes flash in recognition. "azul ashengrotto? oh my gosh. I knew you looked familiar!" you resist the urge to squeal.

he tilts his head.

"you like, host many events in nrc don't you? I loved them so much! the venues are a beautiful sight. don't get me started on your after speeches.. your voice and your suits make me want to faint."

azul holds in his blush by pushing in his lips.

ㅤ

jamil viper

there's still a lot to do. jamil thinks grimly. despite one of their own getting sent to hell itself (aka rsa, hell because it seems like a nightmare to be in there at all) kalim thought it was an omen and decided to throw a celebration commending a new start.

he does get it though. instead of being at each other's throat (one sided) the schools are finally collaborating with less violence than he'd like.

that doesn't mean jamil is fully on board with the idea though, more so that he finds out more workload would only be added to his plate.

man is stressed.

so here he is, voice honestly sore from all the orders and scolds he executed in a single hour. be it blabbering someone to do an order or going off at another for doing it the wrong way. if there was 20 jamil's it'd be done in no time but cloning is a very complex spell he hasn't learned.

yet— but once he does the dorm will not be ready for him.

the boy who issued the party himself is off somewhere inviting more people, which meant this party would be bigger than the resident scarabia exclusive party. since he's inviting people from the other dorms too.

hasn't he invited enough? jamil sighs. he's been giving invitations since yesterday. kalim might as well invite the whole school.

he doubts that he's entirely off the truth.

how in the hell he's gonna fit them all if he does into the dorm is anybody's guess. jamil is not a fan of packed places.

actually he isn't a fan of parties at all.

it would've been better to deal with if kalim announced the party weeks prior! not literally a day before it! yesterday was the absolute worst day of his month and there's like ten of those every month.

so imagine his stress when the guests already started piling in when he hasn't even finished the last snacks for the table.

he knew he should have contacted trey because baking muffins straight out of a tutorial is definitely not ideal at all.

to be fair he doesn't make them a lot and the last time he did was so long ago that he needed to search it up on how to make it.

kalim would've been perfectly fine if he left out he muffins off the menu but jamil doesn't wanna take any chances.

I don't think they're supposed to look like that. jamil wipes off the sweat on his forehead silently. staring at the definitely undercooked muffin barely even poofed up to eat

the door creaks open and jamil doesn't spare it a glance. finally some help. "can you hand me another batch of the batter? I messed up." he glances at the clock. well there's still time and the guests outside were grateful enough to dig in on the other variety of food.

jamil stretches out his hand after he finishes setting up another tray. though the voice that he has not heard before has him freezing.

he doesn't even move when the weight of the presumed batter is gently put on his outstretched hand.

"oops.. yeah that definitely looks horrible not gonna lie."

I can see that. jamil blankly thinks, turning his head to silently analyze the person beside him. one of the people kalim invited definitely, the boy would give an invitation to a person he doesn't know.

you just stare back calmly.

but wow. you have pretty eyes. jamil clears his throat. he grips the plastic of the batter and focuses on pouring the right amount into the cups. if he keeps staring it'd be rude and he isn't sure if he wouldn't stay distracted.

while pouring in the consistency he speaks; "I don't think we've met but thanks." he says, you smile in response. looking apologetic.

"sorry for barging in. kalim told me that you were here."

jamil blinks and his hold falters. a pretty person looking for me?

what.

"oh. that's strange. why would you look for me?"

perhaps he's a little suspicious.

"I couldn't help myself. I just had to meet the chef—" you pause and look over his work. "—and baker. themselves."

you seem oddly invested in him just placing the dough in the cups. he feels kind of pressured and dare I say shy in this amount of attention.. "why's that?"

wait he should probably tone it down. he's making it seem like he's interrogating every choice you just made.

though you don't seem to mind. your eyes almost look like they sparkle and they look prettier to him. "the food was unlike anything I've ever eaten! I've met five star chefs and none could ever compare. it was like the taste of home." you sigh dreamily.

jamil clears his throat and he's glad that his hair is over his shoulder so you wouldn't see the flush on his face.

it's nice to be appreciated and you don't seem like you preferred kalim over him.

jamil thinks. fuck it. "well. how would you like me to teach you over?" maybe he was being way too forward. it was uncharacteristic of him to be like this but can you blame him?

it's like your beauty was enchanted with some spell that completely lured him in.

he leans away and it felt like just a few seconds when you were both talking, the cups full of batter speaks for itself. jamil brings it to the oven and sets the timer.

your voice echoes in his mind. "I'd love that. let me know when you're free, I don't wanna impose when you're busy."

he frowns. he is busy tomorrow, the day after tomorrow and the day after that. maybe this will be a test for his patience.

you notice the frown on his face but still manage to laugh. "by the look on your face I'm guessing you're not? well that's fine. want to exchange numbers so we can talk when you are?"

he isn't sure if this was just a ploy to get his number but damn. you are one smooth, beautiful one. he nods, still a little dejected from his full schedule.

"jamil is free tomorrow!" the male in question doesn't know when or how kalim got in without the two of you noticing but he just did.

for once he's kind of glad for the boy even he's a headache most of the time.

you raise your brows and look between the two having a staredown. "that so?"

jamil turns to you and shrugs. "I guess so."

there's a trace of a faint smile on his face.

ㅤ

vil schoenheit

it's strange.

vil heard from a little birdie, aka our resident rook hunt that the exchange student from rsa was chosen to reside in pomefiore out of every dorm, what was crowley thinking? as if sending one of vil's own into the devil's den wasn't enough

and only the students chosen by the mirror should be able to stay in pomefiore's castle.

so you can say that he's a little irked.

especially thinking of the possibility that the student could be acquaintances with neige, if they are then it's a game over. he might be being a little bitter about it but can you blame him? it drives him crazy.

rook might not mind, maybe epel too. but he can't say the same for himself and the other residents of his dorm.

vil isn't usually someone to listen in gossip but it was too interesting to just pass by the room with a door that was just conveniently creaked open.

"—I'm telling you! it's blasphemy. they didn't even bat an eye when I suggested them to use the right products!"

vil doesn't gaze inside the room, rather keeping his eyes ahead.

"hmph. the audacity. our advice would be worth thousands! did you see the eye they gave us? someone like me shouldn't receive such a gaze." the other one huffs.

sometimes his own residents could be way too feeling royalty. vil sighs, even he is a little appalled on how they act.

'right products?' he doesn't really agree. there isn't a right or wrong to which products one use, except is said product is actually really bad for the skin.

the lights of pomefiore dim compared to when it's morning. those were operated to immediately lower brightness in the night anyways. still, vil's favorite time is when it's quiet, serene and beautiful.

and there was a spot in the gardens for himself only.

but there was someone in here.

"those are apricots." vil points out. crossing his arms to carefully survey the supposed intruder, when he said that he knew each and every one of the faces in his dorm. he was being serious. and from a gaze alone from them gives him the conclusion that this is someone new.

perhaps a student who started late? but then again even if it was just one or a few more students for submission the dorm leaders would've still been summoned to witness the ceremony first hand.

the figure in front of him freezes. finger twitching before retreating in hesitance, completely discarding their previous action to reach out and touch the flower. most probably embarrassed to be seen trying such a thing.

"yes. it's a symbol of elegance. quite fitting for your dorm." they speak out slowly.

maybe he hasn't counted in his and your own reflection in the glass window but you sure do and you can feel your heart racing from the familiar features he has. sure, it's a little different from the ones you're used to. the ones where you weren't granted the honor to stand so close.

but he was still very beautiful. inside and out.

vil's eyes glint in recognition. "hm."

there's a quiet moment of silence. not necessarily uncomfortable but not that comforting either.

you open your mouth, close it once more but thankfully you've gathered enough words to speak out. "i, uhm.. the student from rsa." you say.

you're quite perspective. vil notes. he didn't even see your face yet you know it from his tone alone.

but.

oh. he thinks with a blank stare. who would've guessed? all the pieces fall together perfectly but he hoped you were anything but that. the title is something he started associating with you the moment you said it. all the bad things are sticking to you now and he doesn't like it.

neige, rsa... he closes his eyes and turns to retreat back to his abode. hoping to walk away before he starts to resent you.

the fire within vil grows a little harder.

"hey. I just wanted to say."

he pauses. vil imagines you looking his way, face shown, no longer hiding your identity yet he doesn't dare to look back.

you avert your eyes to the floor and are practically swimming in embarrassment. should you be blessed with the sight of your eternal love in nightwear? anyways..

"you probably heard this a lot of times already but omgiloveyousomuch wait that sounds creepy sorry uh.. I really liked your first movie!" you unconsciously rant and close your eyes, giggling then pausing when you catch yourself in 4k.

indeed it's something vil's heard a lot of times but from an rsa student? well that's something new.

congratulations you've officially peaked his interest. "my.. first movie..?" vil inhales a sharp breath. he didn't think anyone would remember that! he literally payed the director mounts of cash to erase that one from existence!

you nod. "yes.. I'm guessing you were new around there but your acting was just so raw that I had to rewatch it a hundred of times." maybe the hundred times were an exaggeration but plenty enough to stand near the truth. "ever since I've looked up to you."

vil stays silent.

you sweatdrop. "sorry that was weird. but I'm really happy I got to tell you in person. don't worry! I'll be out of your hair and you won't see me ever again."

that's right. this is something he can forget easily. he just has to keep looking forward and he won't see you at all, he won't ever know who told him the kindest, genuine words he's ever heard ever.

he looks back and you hold your breath.

wow. he was beautiful.

his eyes skim through you in the most judgemental way you've seen but do you care? no. eye contact with vil.. you're suprised you haven't passed out yet.

"beautiful."

you nod in a frenzy, thinking he was referring to himself.

you are beautiful. vil thinks. just before he hasn't even taken a look at you and he thought the exact same thing.

he smiles. "it's nice to have someone who understands flower languange."

either you were absolutely flabbergasted, all you can do was nod and agree to nearly all he said when he stayed for a few and talked with you.

ㅤ

idia shroud

idia is feeling particularly antsy today.

he doesn’t know when, why, what, or how he agreed yesterday midnight to a meet up with his currently closest online friend. idia knows full well of the risks, is he gonna meet a ten year old or a sixty one year old?

well the meet up had him so distracted that he barely even paid attention to crowley's announcement. only making out an exchange program from it.

there's far bigger things he worries about,, like the fact that he's having an inner crisis because of the situation!

and the fact that his friend unconsciously sent an ominous message.. 'I'm closer than you think' what does that even mean?!

and he doesn't know what went through their head when they said to meet him in the botanical garden of nrc. like.. there was no way the barrier would even let them step foot in the nrc grounds!

still, no matter how bizarre it sounded he still went.

idia sticks out like a sore thumb in the valley of green with his flaming hair, standing there with a console at hand to keep himself distracted.

he got a lot of weird looks. seriously? the barely seen dorm leader of the mysterious ignihyde in such a place? what's new though honestly.

idia waits and waits, till he just slumps and curses himself for believing such a thing. there was no way you'd even be able to—

"ghoul666?" a voice chuckles. and... that was his username! it must be..

"(username)?!?!" idia nearly screeched out loud. turning around frantically but stopping short when he catches sight of you.

oh my god... are you an s-rank deity?!

you smile. "hi! you can call me (name).. it's a little weird to hear that in real life." you shrug and idia still can't pick up the jaw that's practically on the floor.

you watch in amusement as his hair flares and turns pink.

"why,, h-how.. what?!" idia splutters out.

"I'm the exchange student from rsa. isn't it fate that we meet like this?"

oh.

well actually he didn't exactly listen to crowley so.

who knew his literal online best friend was so awe-striking? he feels like a pebble next to them.

if he could have stats in his eyes he would but strangely enough it seemed like you would too.

you scratch your cheek. the atmosphere is kinda awkward. "it's so nice to meet you in person! one day I hope I can solo a boss with 1 hp too.."

idia flushes once again. nearly half of his hair is now encased in pink. "i-i could show you how I do it... not that you'd ever want to hang out with me.." he trails off.

you shake the remark off. "that's not true! let's go right now! uh.. if you want."

here we have two people completely enamored with the other.

clarifications.

in riddle's part, the competition refers to equestrian.

the positively flushed isn't a reference to a red face, but since riddle thought you were being sick maybe he thought it was. I'd rather call it shy behavior.

idia's part was rushed.

its exactly 40 minutes before 12 PM

2K notes · View notes

mistle10 · 2 months

Text

Rating: sfw

Pairing: Vil Schoenheit X chubby gn! reader (leaning towards fem)

Genre: hurt/comfort (tough love)

TWs: semi-detailed descriptions of ED behaviors, weight loss, restrictive behaviors, and self image. Please keep this warning in mind for your own personal health ♡

Plot: Reader who wants to lose weight but cant opening up about your issues with EDs and weight to Vil.

Disclaimer: I've written this based on my personal experiences, and it's a bit self indulgent. My apologies. Not proofread, written in tumblr app.

-----‐-----------------------------

Vil grabbed your hand when you claimed you weren't beautiful. He stared into your eyes.

"Tell me. What exactly don't you like about yourself?"

You couldn't say your weight. You didn't want to get a lecture, you already had it in your head that he must hate it.

"I- I won't tell you." When you argued, he would cross his arms.

"Oh, you always say I know so much about beauty. Suddenly you don't trust my judgement anymore?"

He tsked at you. "And besides. I give you plenty of tips to accentuate your features and you choose not to take them."

But you don't like them. You don't want to accentuate them. His face softened.

"Y/N..." Vil sighed, taking your hand in his again. "You know I do find you very beautiful, right?" His manicured thumb stroked the back of your hand, and he pulled you close to him. You couldn't help but feel grossed out. Not at him, but yourself. It was a common feeling-- not believing anyone would ever touch you out of free will.

"Why exactly don't you like these things?" He asked, more determined now. "Have people mentioned them?" His eyebrows furrowed, as much as he hated making expressions like that. Vil knew self confidence wasn't something many people had. Even he didn't come by it naturally, at first. Most people had something they wished to change, and some people were able to; whether that be getting a nose job or using colored contacts. But most couldn't and had to make peace with it.

And the thing was, you had tried to change it. You had tried many times. Many unhealthy diets and undiagnosed eating disorders went unnoticed because you didn't "fit the criteria." Of course you didn't want to tell him. To many people, being overweight was a moral failing. Something like that should be so easily fixable, shouldn't it? Of course, it was firmly seeded within your mind that Vil would feel the same if not harsher should you complain.

"I don't know. Not really," you replied.

Vil huffed. "Really now, Y/N." He put a hand on his hip. "You know, I don't care about those things. I don't particularly love the fact you ask me for tips and then don't use them and still complain, but that's beside the matter..." He shook his head, free hand coming up to brush aside his bangs.

His hands landed on your shoulders, bringing you to sit down with him on his bed. You even felt self concious about how you sat. Vil reached up to hold your face, thumb on your chin and other fingers resting under your jaw. It was tough love, you knew that, but it was still difficult.

"What I care about is whether you believe you're beautiful or not." He hummed, crossing one leg over the other. "And I want to help you feel that way."

You still couldn't help but not believe him. Really? You'd seen him have a fit before because his lash glue wasn't sticking just right at 5:30 in the morning. You'd seen him outright grimace at unappealing patterns, go on rants about hideous microtrends... he, of all people, didn't care about physical flaws? No way.

You would've laughed if it didn't make you want to cry. Tears welled up in your eyes.

"I... I just-" you were at a loss for words. "Don't pretend as if it isn't obvious. It's the elephant in the room." The metaphor made you embarrassed, as if it were a comparison, "I've been trying to lose weight. I am. Nobody cares. I haven't even been going to the Cafe anymore. I've cut out carbs, sugars, fats before, I'm eating less than half my maintenance and- nothing!" You let the words spill out. And now that the dam broke, you couldn't stop the rest.

"And I know you probably think I'm lying, how could I possibly not lose weight, that's so easy right!?" You felt your face get red hot. "But it's not that easy. Doctors won't listen. Nobody listens!"

Vil was silent for a few moments, before a sigh left him. He crossed the opposite leg now.

"Really now."

Your heart dropped.

"The truth is that I have noticed your habits change. I've been on every diet from here to the pacific ocean, you know," he muttered, bringing your face up to look you in the eyes. He seemed annoyed about something.

"It's not something I'm oblivious to. I was going to tell you to knock it off sooner or later if you didn't tell me the reason. Seriously, less than half, you should know better."

After a heavy scowl finally disappeared, Vil sighed, his demeanor softening once again. "It's very easy to get sucked into these things." He shrugged, resting his face in his palm for a moment.

"I ought to give you a breakdown of why these things don't work, but I'm sure you've heard it all already," he hummed. He was trying very hard not to lecture you about crash dieting and you could tell. "But-" His brows furrowed, and he looked at you, expression serious. "This will not happen again, understand? You will be eating an adequate amount. There are no 'good' or 'bad' foods, and equating food to moral character when it's simply fuel is imprudent."

You were clearly ashamed. The lecture, as you expected.

"I've already killed my metabolism." You said quietly. "Nobody can help anymore."

He narrowed his eyes at you. You swallowed nervously.

"This is fixable. But-" you tried to look away, but he turned your face toward him again.

"Look at me, Y/N." He spoke sternly, a subtle yet protective bite to his tone. It was clear this hit something for him; after all, you were his partner. And if you were hurting yourself, that simply wasn't tolerable.

"But, unless you plan on breaking up with me, I can not allow you to keep on with these *ridiculous* diets. My love-" he took a breath, finally composing himself. He'd never had to be this harsh with you before, but he was... worried. "An eating disorder is an eating disorder. Size has nothing to do with it."

His arms came around you, pulling you close to him in a loving embrace-- and your emotions immediately began to well up. "I apologize for my reaction, but this is one thing I will remain obstinate about."

His lips met your cheek. His hand caressed your hair, long nails combing through and brushing against your head. Vil was affectionate, when he wished to be-- and that was usually behind closed doors like this.

"But you don't think I'm ugly?" You asked quietly.

"Of course not," Vil spoke. "You know, I don't surround myself with people who know nothing of fashion or beauty. Physical flaws-" he scoffed a little. "even using the word 'flaw' seems demeaning, but they are the one thing I don't comment on."

You looked at him. You remembered all the times you'd seen him obsess over the little details of his face in the mirror, and felt bad about yourself.

He seemed to notice this with the change in your expression. At this point, he really could read you like a book. He reached up to hold your face once more, violet eyes looking into yours.

"My qualms about my own appearance have no effect on how I feel about you. Why would I hold you to the same standard as myself?"

Vil sighed softly. "If you feel this way, won't you come to me?" He asked. "We can work on the things you don't like, within reason. I just don't want you to hurt yourself over looking thin. You know, when Azul-" he cut himself off, shaking his head, but that seemed to remind him of something.

"I know I've probably said things about my figure before, and I'm sorry if that hurt you. I happen to like the way you look now. You've come a long way, you know. The first time I saw you, you couldn't even do a cut crease." Though it was maybe a joke you thought, he seemed serious.

Finally, he came back around. Vil moved to sit closer, his lips meeting yours. Though it wasn't enough to transfer some of his lipstick as it sometimes was, you could feel the affection that he couldn't -or wouldnt- say.

He breathed out, a soft smile coming to his face now.

"How are you feeling? Better now?" He asked. "Why don't we stop and pick something up?" He asked. You knew he typically tried to avoid unhealthy foods, so he must be determined to get you to eat something if he was suggesting it. "And then I can do your nails again- you know you ought to stop biting them," he scolded, in the way he usually would. It indicated things were back to normal. He wouldn't baby you, but he would work with you.

Though it wasn't something he often said, he did love you.

#tw disordered thoughts #tw ed descussion #twst fanfic #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #i didnt proof read this

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444rockstargf · 3 months

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I want Clyde walking up behind you at a crowded show and fingerbanging you while no one notices. I want that spur of the moment, he's not sure where you're putting his hand but when you look back at him and rest your head on his shoulder, he goes for it.

you are a damn genius.

"i was at coachella, leaning on your shoulder." | clyde

coachella: woodstock in my mind. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999@josibunn @livingdead-materialgirl @romanroyapoligist@auggiethecreator @oliviah-25 @vanlisbon @lankysimp @livingdead-reilly@imoonkiss @lankysimp @nom-nommmm1 @xxbl00d-cl0txx @k1ll3rh0rr0r @wildathevrt @mommymilkers0526

female!reader x clyde

word count: 1.4k

contents: fluffy stuff, clyde being sweet (as usual), fingering, public sex, clyde being a whore

you stood amidst a heavy crowd, the booming of the bass nearly being strong enough to send you to the ground. the night sky was illuminated by the bright, flashy lights, almost making it look like day.

you looked through the crowd, looking for that one familiar face that had left you for the washroom a few minutes ago. but it was impossible to see anything in this mob. you attempted jumping to catch a glimpse of the performers on stage, but you were suddenly swooped off of your feet by a pair of strong hands, effortlessly placed on his broad shoulders as you yelped.

you looked down, seeing his grinning face as he laughed at your predictable reaction. “sorry, doll. did i scare ya?” you rolled your eyes, your skirt lifting a little as you wrapped your legs around his neck to strangle him. “you could’ve given me a heart attack, dumbass. i thought i was getting kidnapped.” he snorted out a laugh, lifting you up again and setting you back on the ground.

he holds out a cherry-red slurpee to you, taking a loud sip from his blue-raspberry one. “i found a slurpee stand on my way to the bathroom and got you one. you’re welcome.” you accepted it, scrunching your nose a little. “you didn’t take this into the bathroom with you, right?” he scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “what do you take me for, a slob?” you both laughed at the obvious question.

you took a sip of your drink, the crushed ice hitting your teeth and making you wince. clyde’s attention had shifted to the stage, the crowd beginning to get rowdier as the music crescendoed. people bumped and thrashed into you, making you lose your balance. you slipped backwards into clyde’s chest, him luckily able to catch you by your waist.

“shit!” looking down at your skirt, you saw a very conspicuous and unappealing red stain, your slurpee being the culprit of this crime.

“jesus. you okay?” he asked. you pouted, lifting up the skirt’s fabric slightly to examine the mark. you showed it to him, frowning. “my skirt’s ruined. i wore it just for you but now it looks like my period came to say hello.” he laughed at your comment, gettiing down onto his knees and pulling a wet wipe out of his flannel pocket like it was nothing. he was weird like that, always having exactly what you needed in that dusty little pocket of his.

“nothing a little care can’t fix.” he gently dabbed at the stain, transferring the red juice to the wipe in a matter of seconds. he looked up at you, his almost doe, blue eyes staring up at you. from this angle, he looked like prince charming. cleaning up your messes just like a good boyfriend should. you patted him on the head, making his cheeks flush a little. “good boy.”

he stood up, bowing playfully. “anything for you, princess.” goddamnit. why did he always have to be so charming? as messy as life got with him sometimes, he was the perfect mix between witty and seductive, the alluring combination causing heat to pool in your core every time. even now.

you swallowed hard as you turned away from him a little, looking down at your skirt. he had been so close to your exposed thighs just now, his warm breath on them feeling like heaven. and you saw exactly when he snuck a quick glimpse up your skirt, his blue irises being telltales for when his pupils swallowed them whole. but at least he tried to be sneaky about it, even though he failed miserably.

you called out to him, trying to catch his attention over the roaring music. “hey clyde, i think you missed a spot!” he brought himself down to your level, bringing his ear to your lips so he could hear you better. “what?” you rolled your eyes, not feeling like dealing with his poor hearing at the moment. you stood infront of him, pressing your body into his and bringing his hand down to your thighs, his fingers just teasing the rim of your shirt.

your breath got a little heavy as you slowly brought his hand underneath your skirt, his fingers now touching the lacy fabric of your panties. clyde seemed confused for a moment, but he’d learned how to read your little gestures and quickly got the message. he gently grazed his fingers over your clothed clit, which throbbed in response to his touch.

he snickered a little, sneaking his fingers underneath the fabric and slipping your panties to the side just enough to let a few drops of wetness trickle down your thighs. you whimpered quietly, but he didn’t stop. he used his thumb to massage slow circles onto your hard pearl, his index and middle finger teasing your dripping wet lips.

you moaned quietly, gripped onto his arm to hide your embarrassed face. but to your luck, everyone around you was completely oblivious to what was going on. then he slowly pushed his fingers into your tight hole, making your knees go weak. you nearly collapsed, but he caught you, whispering into your ear and making every hair on your body stand up. “easy there, princess. i’m just gonna have a little fun with my favourite girl…”

he carefully thrusted his fingers in and out of you, using his other hand to cover you mouth as sweet little noises slipped from it. he began to pick up his speed, starting to fingerfuck you rapidly as your warm juices dripped down his fingers.

though the music was loud, you could hear how wet you were. and you knew he could too. “oh my god… are you always this wet, or are you just a slut for risky shit like this?” he laughed, but you were falling apart inside. his fingers tore through your bruised walls, his palm slapping against your base each time he pushed himself back into you.

your knees were practically jelly by now. you were holding onto him for dear life, your head leaning back onto his shoulder as his thumb massaged hypnotic patterns onto your pussy. he curled his fingers a little as he fucked you, making you scream out uncontrollably. you had drawn the attention of a few, but no suspicion.

god, he was good. his methods were so effortless, yet mastered. like he had been practicing them for a moment like this but didn’t care enough to actually find out if he was doing the right thing. he just went for it, and that’s exactly how he got your legs shaking, back arching as his hands muffled all the sinful noises that came out of you.

“m’gonna c-cum, clyde..!” he didn’t understand a single word you said, but he got the message and fingered you with all his strength, veins popping out of his hand and arm from his aggression. but he did all this with a straight face, just watching the show like every other citizen.

you were a screaming, crying mess. your pussy throbbed and convulsed around his, desperately chasing the orgasm that he was delivering you. cum poured from your core all the way to the ground, leaving a white puddle underneath you. your heart raced as your body heated up in that moment of pure bliss, you and him being the only people in the world right now.

you felt a waterfall flowing out of you, and that did it. you clung to him, you body sinking to the ground as you came and squirted all over his fingers. he released you from his death grip, leaving you to regain your balance as you came down from your orgasm.

it had been more powerful than you’d expected, probably thanks to the thrill of doing it in a setting like this. you slipped your sodden panties back into place, stepping away from the puddle underneath you before looking up at him. he was licking his fingers like he just finished the best meal of his life, which was you.

he caught your gaze, his expression turning sour. “goddamnit. my rings are gonna rust from that.” you snorted out a laugh. “should’ve taken them off beforehand.” you picked up your slurpee from the ground, taking a long sip as he gave you a playful slap on the chest. “like i knew that you’d get horny in the middle of a show.” you both laughed at that, clyde bringing his lips to yours and giving you a deep kiss. you were able to taste to blue raspberry off of his lips, and you were certain that he could taste the cherry off of yours.

author's note: ii've got another clyde request coming out tonight. stay tuned yall!

#444rockstargf #rory culkin #rory culkin smut #smut #clyde rory culkin #clyde electrick children #rory culkin clyde #electrick children clyde #lana del rey #lust for life #coachella woodstock in my mind

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absolutebl · 6 months

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This Week in BL - I'm finding rankings difficult, there's a lot of middle of the pack action and some serious top contenders

Organized, in each category, by ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Dec 2023 Wk 1

Ongoing Series - Thai

Last Twilight (Fri YT) ep 5 of 12 - I love how they’re slowly revealing bits of their past to each other. It parallels the slow burn of them falling in love with each other. Knowledge + understanding = affection. I cried during the part with his doubles partner, of course I did. As has been mentioned many times in this blog, I am a sap. Also I’m realizing that there is something particularly clever about this show: Because Day is blind, there must be a ton of physical touch. And physical touch is something that Thai BL does really well.

(I gotta say, while I ADORE JimmySea in these roles, a small part of me wonders how JoongDunk would have handled these parts.)

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 3 of 10 - Phaya is SO DAMN SMITTEN. It’s great. Have I mentioned recently how glad I am Billy got this role? This was the: “it’s not a date” date ep.

I gotta say these 2 BLs are neck and neck favorites right now.

Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube) ep 1 of 12 - Uh oh. I like it a lot. I think I was always going to because I have a soft spot for TayNew on screen. It is such funny to watch Tay play such a stiff character. I like it. This is very fast paced for a Thai BL I wonder where they’ll take it with this speed, are they’ll following the manga more closely?

My Dear Gangster Oppa (Thurs iQIYI) ep 7 of 8 - Wait, no. Wahl you’re such a problem. The pacing of this is very KBL. I’m not mad about it but it feels odd in Thai. Still enjoying this one the most as my "early in the week" offering.

For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 2 of 10 - The booty call flirting is next level with these two. Like Bed Friends but with less pain. I love that Nail is such needy evil wild child - the story gets all its tension from that.

Baby boy gives off so many danger signals I wouldn't tap that with a 10 ft… pole. Him is a braver queer than I. I do like how the high heat is being used to drive the story. It stands in stark contrast to Playboyy. Which is using high heat to drive, well... piles apparently.

Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 6 of 10 - I'm enjoying it again, the main couple is getting more BLish.

Bake Me Please (Mon Gaga) ep 3 of 6 - Shin and Peach flirting is very cute. Although they got into that sack swiftly. Guy leaving was contrived and reactions overwrought but okay babies.

Absolute Zero (Weds iQIYI) ep 11 of 12 - Now I'm mostly just confused.

Which timeline are we in?

Do they know each other in this one's past or not?

Have they met yet?

Who has which memories of what?

I feel like I’ve been through a lot for the show.

I’m not saying the reunion scene in the theater was worth it, but it was a really spectacular reunion scene. I’m terrified that there’s one more episode. I wish it had ended here.

Cooking Crush (Sun YT) 2 of 12 - I’m just not that into it.

Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 4 of 14 - A new ship has been set afloat, we are now Team #WayKim / #KimWay and if you're not with us, you're against us. Trash watch happening here.

Middleman’s Love (Fri YT & iQIYI ep 5 of 8 - oh look, it’s everybody’s favorite big brother!

That was a kind (and kind of lovely) coming out sequence. KingUea being the worst best Gay Advice Dads is awesome. Mai is SO SWEET. And we end on some good old miscommunication / misinterpretation, so that Jade can behave in an even more unhinged manner next ep. Our brief respite from absurdity has ended.

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) Fake Love ep 16 of 24 - They cute fake bf but it’s oddly unappealing. I mean most us queers have slept with each others exes, that’s swimming in a small pool, for ya. In my experience, only hets get butt hurt about it. (Hets never use enoug lube, they butt hurt about everything.) So the whole drama just felt confusing to me. Or maybe that's just my experience with swimming in lube? 4/10 whatever... not recommended

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 4 of 14 eps - I’m seriously considering dropping this.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

VIP Only (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 4 of 10 - They cute. Are aquariums now gay? That’s not the definition of fish that I grew up with.

Sahara-sensei to Toki-kun (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 2 of 8 - I'm suffering from terrible second lead syndrome. Glasses guy is new Best Boy. Also, Rise is trying to earn the Namgoong Award for Best Wingman.

It Finished But...

SHADOW (Thai Gaga) 14 eps - completed it's run. Reports are:

It's pretty good horror but not BL. Ending is unresolved.

Given that info and this review here, it's not for me. DNF

It's Airing But...

Behind the Shadows (Korea movie) - a historical I'm interested in (if it's BL) but have no idea how to find.

The Whisperer (Sun ????) 10 eps - Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). I don't think even the perfect single dimple can motivate me to watch. Word is... it's terrible.

7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) 10 eps - Giving me Luminous Solution vibes. I'm waiting to binge if it's safe.

Beyond The Star (Weds iQIYI) 8 eps - House of Stars meets Boyband. I was NOT impressed with ep 1. Been told I shouldn't bother.

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - I find this series more fun to binge, so I'm waiting until after it completes its run next week.

Next Week Looks Like This

12/14 Dear Kitakyushu (Thai/Japan movie) in theaters in country only, I know nothing about distribution.

Still coming:

12/23 Dead Friend Forever (Thai horror) iQIYI

Original 2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED). With the end of the year upon us I'll do an "announced for 2023 but never happened list" soon.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Of course I loved all the little language moments. I am here for the kinkification of phi.

That request for a shirt was v sexy phi+na. Thank you Jimmy.

Last Twilight bringing the pronoun and particle game to play hard.

It was a nice kiss. (Absolute Zero)

This as a perfunctory flirting kiss, I anticipate we still have The Kiss to come.

I love that Phaya's personality seems to be spin doctor, just accuse the boy of doing that you are already doing to him (or want him to do to you).

Boyfriend shirts!

And a meta reference.

The Sign is basically made for me.

(Last week)

#this week in bl #bl updates #Thai BL #Last Twilight #The Sign #my dear gangster oppa #cherry magic #for him the series #absolute zero #middleman's love #My Universe Fake Love

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jokeringcutio · 4 months

Text

Reader x Stepbrother Stu - Period

Rating: Mature (Due to themes and remarks made by Stu)

This is more of a cute/fluff/comfy little story with some banter in it.

Summary: You get your period for the very first time since moving in with your new family. Your stepbrother is there to annoy you.

Reader’s first period with Stu

It was quiet in the house, for which you were thankful. Your stepdad was at work and mom was away with some of the new friends she’d been making. Which left Stu, but he was usually hanging out with his friends. And as such, you were left to the bliss of finding your own distraction from the current problem. At least there’d be no one nagging in your ears.

Your cramps had hit like a knife in the gut, twisting and churning. You curled into the fetal position on the couch, clutching a heating pad to your abdomen whilst willing the pain to go away. Not that it ever worked. It seemed that if a God existed, he had punished you greatly when it came to biology. You liked to think of it in more mythological terms as being cursed.

"Hey, you okay?" Stu pokes his head in.

Yep, definitely cursed.

Your peace and quiet was over as your stepbrother came waltzing into the room, being his usual self, rattling off a string of questions and random comments before you could answer. At least his long string of haphazardly thrown-together words ended with something that you could decipher and answer.

"I'm heading to the mall, you need anything?"

“No.” You needed things but doubted there was anything that you could actually ask him to get for you. Some things were just too embarrassing to ask. Feeling his inquisitive stare, which annoyed you beyond words, you groaned.

You had a headache, a sore back, were stabbed to death on the inside of your tummy, and felt like you could throw up any minute now. Could he not go and annoy another?

Not to mention how yucky, icky, and incredibly unappealing you felt you were at this point. You wish you could hide yourself from his eyes. So much for good impressions and trying to be the pleasant younger sister in this household.

"Just leave me alone."

But Stu, being his usual annoying self, did the complete opposite of your wishes and sauntered over to peer down at you. His light blue eyes were full of joyful mischief. "Come on, don't be like that. I was just asking."

If looks could kill he’d be a dead man for even daring to use such a jocular voice around you right now. As if things were merry, when they definitely were not.

His eyes flicked down to the heating pad on your tummy and a smirk tugged at his lips.

"I'm not in the mood, Stu," you warned, a sentence through gritted teeth in the hopes of stopping him with whatever he was about to say. In vain, of course.

"Ah." He nodded slowly, feigning understanding. "Shark week, huh?"

And perhaps he did understand. He had a mother too once. Not to mention the many girlfriends he kept telling you about. Surely Casey had gotten hers during the time they were dating. How had he handled that? Had he been just as annoying, you wondered?

You glared at him. "Get out."

"All right all right, sheesh.” Stu held up his hands in surrender, but the amused glint didn't leave his eyes. "I’m gonna make myself scarce unless the shark decides to bite," he couldn’t help but jibe.

"Here I thought you were a fan of horror,” you drily retorted as you watched his retreat.

“Horror movies with slasher killers. Not with animals in the lead,” Stu called back.

You listened as he moved around in the kitchen, presumably looking for the grocery bags. At least he’d fallen quiet, and so you rested your arm to cover your eyes and focused on the heat of the pad on your sore abdomen. Go away, stupid pain.

Truly, in times like these, it sucked to be born with these feminine parts. And if you could swap them with someone, you’d definitely give them to Stu. Let him know what it feels like. Then you would be the one nagging at his head while he had a headache. See if he likes it.

The rummaging stopped and the creaking of the floorboards signaled Stu had come to a halt near the doorway, probably on his way out. But there was a tense silence in the air, as if he were up to something. He didn’t leave you guessing what that something was for long, though, as his words cut through the air not long after.

"Oh, just to be that heating pad, a little lower, resting between your le-”

"Get out!" You hurled a pillow at him. By the sound of it, you had hit the wall. The laughter indicated you had missed your target. At least you heard him disappear down the hall. Then the front door sounded.

Wrapping the heating pad more tightly around your middle, you settled in for a long few hours of cramps and irritation, wanting nothing more than for the week to be over. Luckily you knew just the movie to keep your mind off things.

A bit over an hour had gone when the front door opened and closed. You didn’t bother looking away from the movie you were watching, assuming Stu was back from his shopping trip. It was still too early for it to be your mom or your stepdad.

Footsteps approached.

Then something hit you in the face.

You sputtered, grabbing the object to see a familiar color packaging in your hands. Sanitary pads. Your usual brand. How had Stu known?

Your eyes slid up to see Stu unpacking the bags in the kitchen, his back to you, deliberately casual. As if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. But there was a stiffness to his shoulders that betrayed his fake nonchalance.

Heat flooded your cheeks as you stared at the package in your hands. He’d actually bought these for you? Hadn’t he been embarrassed? No young man went to the shops to get that for their sister willingly, did they? Not when their sister was this new, not even their actual blood.

Right?

You cleared your throat, hoping your voice would come out steady. "You didn't have to suffer through buying these."

"What, and miss seeing the look on the cashier’s face?" He glanced over his shoulder, a crooked grin lifting one side of his mouth. "Come on, like I'd pass up an opportunity to embarrass you."

Ah. So it wasn’t out of the good of his heart. It was just another one of his ways to tease you, make a fool of you, and get you all flustered again. Just so he could have a laugh. You should have guessed…

You rolled your eyes. "You're insufferable."

"Yeah, but you will come to love me for it." He turned back to unpacking the groceries, but not before you saw a flash of vulnerability in his eyes, as if his teasing covered something deeper.

Perhaps something he wasn't sure you reciprocated.

You considered the package in your hands again, a small but meaningful gesture. Then you said quietly, "Yeah. I do."

Stu stilled for a moment, then cleared his throat. When he turned around again, his smile was softer. Genuine. "Good. 'Cause you're stuck with me, shark week or not."

You huffed out a laugh and shook your head. Trust Stu to ruin a tender moment with his usual irreverence.

Still, his admission lingered, as warm and comforting as the fleece blanket around your shoulders.

As Stu unpacked the rest of the groceries, you returned to watching your screen, the bright lights flickering, painting your face with its colors. The cramps hadn't eased completely, but somehow they seemed more tolerable now. More bearable.

You’d lost yourself in the movie, the soft sounds of Stu busying himself in the kitchen a nice comforting background noise. You heard when he joined you in the living room again and noticed how his footsteps came to a halt next to the couch, so you made room for him to join you.

A second surprise came when a hand blocked your view, a bowl held in it. You looked up, confused, to meet Stu’s sparkling blue eyes. “Come on, take it,” he said, a toothy smile encouraging you to take the bowl from his hands and look at what was inside.

Stu moved nearly instantly to your side, joining you on the couch, his hip against your own, touching through the blanket.

“They say girls like these kinds of things,” he started, his excuse veiled by casualness. “I didn’t know what your fancy was.”

Your eyes drifted to the contents of the bowl, which contained a mixture of chocolates and sweets.

“Stu..” your voice trailed off. Had you been wrong? Was this more than teasing you? Did he actually care?

He moved beside you, pressing a button so the movie – which had been paused- continued playing again, draping an arm along the back of the couch. His fingers brushed your shoulder in a casual caress, a silent reassurance.

You decided not to comment on his closeness, nor on the way his fingers moved past your shoulder. This way, the start of your monthly wasn’t so bad.

Not bad at all actually.

AN: For more, follow me (:

~~ Support me on Ko-Fi - Masterlist - Request Box ~~

#stu macher x you #stu macher x reader #stu macher #stepbrother!StuMacher #Stepbrother!Stu Macher x Reader #Stepbrother x stepsister #stu macher x y/n #Reader x Stu macher #stu macher scream #stu macher fanfiction #stepbrother stu macher x reader

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treedaddymcpuffpuff · 21 days

Text

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten

TW: angst, uncomfortable situations, bdsm content, fire, blood

“What in God’s fucking name are you doing?” You ask yourself as you dig out the silky dress and golden bangles to wear tonight on this BDSM safari date.

In theory, you know you absolutely cannot be Julian’s submissive. After a lot of googling, and a lot of video watching, the conclusion is that your smart, mindless mouth will have you bruised and crying more often than cumming, which sounds unpleasant (something you and your vagina can both agree on). It's not that the thought of his big hands swatting your rear as you lay over his broad lap is unappealing. In fact, you like that vision a lot. It’s the fact that he wants to do much more than spank you. Maybe that’s why he likes you, you realize, because you’re so bad at listening that he won’t need much of an excuse to fuck you up.

Yeah, great thought to have before a date.

Your phone rings, and you’re not surprised anymore when you see Tom’s number pop up. He’s been calling almost twice a day now, that desperate ring cutting through your daily life so often that you have to keep the tone on silent most of the time.

You suppose this is just his way of making sure you don’t forget about him while you’re taking back roads and long detours home to avoid his face. Ludlow scares you, but not in a way that Julian’s Mr. Hyde does. No, Tom’s fear factor is that you can’t go two seconds without thinking about him.

The silky dress sits very nicely on your soft body, hugs and fans and dips in the right places. You can’t help but admire yourself in the mirror; hell, what’s a little bit of vanity every once in a while between you and your house plants? It’s not often that you feel good about yourself in the way the dress and the hairline bangles cinching your wrists make you feel. Eat your heart out, Julian.

Eat your heart out, Tom.

Julian looks good enough to eat, and you just might do exactly that before this night is over. You’re sure he can at least stay hard while you’re sucking the head of his beautiful cock (even without your arms tied behind your back), or you really hope so. I mean, you’ve never won any awards or anything, but the people pleaser in you has never had complaints, either.

“You look wonderful.” He hands you a towering potted phalaenopsis orchid with a festoon of blooms so dark purple they’re almost black and leans down to kiss your warming cheek. You feel bad for the plastic wrapped flowers, so you ask him to come upstairs for a minute so you can settle them in their new home.

“Wow, you love plants,” he muses, fingers playing at the waxy tip of your flourishing Queen of the Night cactus in the window.

“Well, I can’t have a cat or a lizard or snake or dog, so.” You give a tiny shrug, clipping off stems into the sink.

“Snake?” He asks, leaning against the counter and watching you work.

“Yeah, like a Ball Python or a Corn Snake.”

“You just keep getting more fascinating, y/n.” You have your back turned, but can still feel his weighty stare, and it makes your skin crackle and pill, distracts you from the task at hand, causing the slippery scissors to veer and slice into your palm, glassy beads of blood forming at the base of the cut immediately.

“Shit,” you say, grabbing a towel from the counter and pressing it into the wound.

Julian comes to your aid, a knight in shining armor ready to slay those dastardly scissors as he plucks them from you and tosses them onto the opposite counter. “Oh, darling.” He takes your sliced hand, uncovers it, blood immediately pooling into the basin of your palm and dribbling over the spillway of your wrist onto the kitchen tile.

“Julian, it’s fine,” you tell him, trying to pull back half heartedly.

“Wait.” The command of his tone makes your heart squeeze out a couple extra rivulets of blood for the floor. Black eyes travel up from your hand to your own, and you honestly have no idea why he is suddenly in this hellish mood again, but fuck, it really does do things for you that you can’t mention in chaste company

“The floor is getting bloody.” You shift—more like squirm—under his shadow.

“What a waste. May I?” His eyes can’t decide what they want to look at—your crimson stained palm or equally if not more bloody face—and you forget that he asked a question as they hood and darken.

He tugs you forward a tiny step, then kisses your fingertips, pokes his tongue out to lick at the sensitive skin there. “Y/n?” He murmurs against your pointer, inquisitive and, what? Hungry? Is that what you’re getting from him?

“Huh?”

“Can I taste you?” His lips tickle down your fingers, peck the top of your palm.

Well, at least he’s not whipping your feet. “Yeah.”

He presses the flat of his tongue against the fresh, oozing cut and licks a long stripe through the carnage. You have to grab onto him because your knees buckle and your vision swims black, but he’s got you anyway, arm wrapped around your waist, holding you up like you’re not made of heavy bone and fat and meat, protecting your pretty dress from that bloody floor.

“Are you okay?” He asks, full Dr. Mercer mode again, lips still stained dark red, acting as if he didn’t just transform into a creature of the night before your very eyes. Your head and cunt throb in a strange, floaty numb tandem as you surface from the haze.

You’re a nurse. You see blood all the time, get covered in it, have to scrub it out of your hair and from under your nails and use special laundry soap on your scrubs to avoid having to buy new ones every other day. That’s why you’re so confused as to why you almost passed out at the sight of Julian licking it off your palm in one of the most erotic displays you’ve ever witnessed in your measly life.

Again? Asks your damp cunt.

Hush, you admonish, ushering her back into her little broom closet chastity prison.

“I’m fine.” You wonder why it took moving to LA to realize what a shit liar you are. And then, because you can’t really help asking with a giggle: “Are you a vampire?”

He chuckles, fails in licking the settling red hue off his lips, and then guides you to sit on your sofa with the towel pressed against your palm. He gets you a cool rag from your bathroom, and presses it to your forehead. “Hold that there for me,” he instructs. “Where’s your first aid kit?”

“Under the sink,” you thumb behind you. “But I’m fine, Julian.”

He plucks a tiny kiss on your wrist. “You know, lying to me is bad for you.”

“Oh?” Your vagina asks, “and why is that, Doctor?”

Julian is too easy. Sure, he prefers to have the upper hand, but as soon as you challenge him, he’s almost squirming with excitement. You wonder if you could make Tom squirm like that, see all the tough masculinity turn soft and peach pink with a well placed, “cuff me, Officer Ludlow.”

“Because lying is naughty, and do you know what happens to naughty girls?” He leans in as if to kiss you.

You lean right back, mouth open to taste your own thick residual copper on his sharp tongue, and sincerely hope the answer is they get fucked until they can’t walk. “Enlighten me?”

He boops your nose. “They don’t get kisses. Now, stay here.”

You glare daggers at his cute butt as he makes to golden retrieve your first aid kit.

“Thank you, Doctor.” Fuck me, Doctor. You bat your eyelashes at him while he cleans up your cut. It’s big, but surface level, warranting a tight wrap and no steri strips.

You boldly brush the fallen, velvet hair from his eyes to see that toothy, knowing smile a little better.

“My pleasure.”

“So…are you into that? Blood?” You’re not sure how else to word it or If there’s even an actual name for the act of eating blood for pleasure. Vladsexual? Bathory Kink?

“That and other carnal taboos. I suppose I’m a bit of a roue.”

“Okay, so what else?”

“I don’t want to scare you.”

“Too late, Julian.” You make it sound lighthearted, sugarcoat the truth, but if you’re going to get into this shouldn’t you know more about what he wants?

“I won’t lie.” He looks at you, presses the finishing slice of tape over your gauze wrap.

You retrieve your doctored hand to cradle on your ribs and maintain his gaze to the best of your ability. “I know.”

“I enjoy pain play. But that’s an umbrella term.”

“Like hot wax? Caning?”

“Yes. You’ve done some research.” He seems like he’s thinking hard about how to word something, but there’s probably no eloquent way to put what he’s about to say. “Cutting. Piercing.”

“What about infection?”

“Aftercare, honey. You make sure it’s nice and clean. Do you want me to stop talking about this? You look paler again.” He rests his hand over yours.

“It’s like you switch into someone else when these things.. come up? It scares me a little.”

He nods. “Part of the point would be to make you scared.”

“That would help you?”

It looks like he understands what you mean by that, and his face droops a little. Seems you’re both still thinking about that last disappointing date. “Yes.”

“There are going to be people getting hurt at this club?”

“Yes.” He cards a hand through his hair and it lays back perfectly where it once was. “There are other parts to it. Parts that are good. I would take responsibility away from you, make sure you eat nutritiously and often, give you a solid routine, pamper and spoil you.”

Why does that part sound worse than the getting cut and pierced bits? The thought of someone controlling your life, what you eat and do, it’s entirely unappealing. Maybe you’re a mess, but you like to be independent and free spirited. Tom was right about you wanting someone on your side, someone to take care of you and go to bat for you, but you’d still like to be on the field when it happens instead of tied up helplessly to the bench.

You’re not saying anything, so he speaks up after a pause of tense silence. “We don’t have to go.”

“I know,” you say, “let’s leave before it gets too late.”

***

You’ll be honest. You expected people on leashes scantily covered in leather, big medieval tower guards in hooded black cloaks, heavy metal equipment bolted to the walls and floor, maybe a stage with grandstand seats like in a fucked up little leather circus.

However, the doors of the club are fairly normal, if not painted blood red. Dark, sultry, heavy bass music welcomes you as you walk inside. Most of the interior is classy, but unexpectedly underwhelming. The inside is carved marble, high ceilinged, low lit, tinged with dark red and purple lights.

It reads like a vampy career fair.

Banquet hall open floor, a pop up bar in the corner, booths and alcoves swollen with spectators dressed in bespoke club wear from Versace, Valentino, and Chanel. Some people choose to hide their identities with finely crafted leather masks. Some people chose to flaunt their faces openly, and you’re pretty sure you recognize at least one B level rockstar and maybe an actor from a distance.

The first thing you see as you go further inside is a man trussed in intricate rope, hanging from the ceiling. Not too bad. Actually, fairly tame, all of this. Well, more tame than the internet showed you. Mostly heavy bondage, maybe a nipple clamp thrown in here and there. Julian leads you to a carpeted venue with floor cushion seating in the far left corner and goes to retrieve some liquid courage.

He hands you a wine glass of rosy, sweet liquor and you gulp it down immediately.

“Slow down,” he says, squeezing your hand in reassurance.

Instead of calming you, his bossy words incite annoyance. You’re a grown ass woman who needs alcohol to deal with something he wants you to attend, and you’ll be damned if you’re not going to drink as much numbing potion as you like.

“I could actually use another one,” you tell him, standing and stretching. “Want some?” You eye his nursed, sipped from glass.

He surprises you by handing you his credit card instead of arguing. “No, thank you. Get as much as you like.”

“Julian, I am not taking your card-“

You’ll never stop being surprised at how fast he can be. He’s so slow, thoughtful, calculated in his work that these sudden, long limbed movements startle you, especially when they bring him right against your body.

He tucks his Chase back into your extended palm, frames your feet, and wraps a covering hand around your collar. “You are taking it.”

The double entendre is not lost on you, and it brings that too often ache back into your toes and fingers and clit and every tip of your body, really.

You want so horribly for his beautiful, cervix kissing cock to be inside you instead of swelling up against your tummy. And, you’ve never been a big fan of PDA, but, when in Venice…

You slip your hand between his hard and your soft, and palm that pretty trapped appendage, using your body to press and grind and get a better understanding of how deliciously he would fill you up.

Your power trip of the night is Julian groaning aloud, then halting this indecency and glaring down at you with a monstrous sneer. Before he can speak, you pipe up, soft and feminine, voice tinted with subtle hedonism. “Yes, Doctor.”

You grab a mixed glass of vodka cranberry and take two extra shots courtesy of doctor money. Liquid courage. It's gonna be alright. Tell yourself that all you want, though, you still don’t feel completely safe here. Which is ridiculous because it’s an adult space with consenting people. Maybe it’s not your physical health you’re worried about so much, but rather your fragile psyche.

When you get back with another shot and your mixed drink, the show has already started. You nestle down into the cushion beside Julian, and he scoots closer to press shoulders in what you think is an attempt at reassurance until he starts talking in your ear about the scene unfolding before you.

“She’s bound to the chair with wool.”

“Wool? Why?”

“Fire resistant.”

Your heart slams faster against your ribcage, hands turn cool and clammy.

“They have a wool blanket ready in case things go south.”

“Are they going to burn her?”

“Not seriously.”

What in the fuck is that supposed to mean? A burn is a burn, right? Whether first or second or third, it can still have detrimental effects on a person’s health. He’s a damn doctor, shouldn’t his years of medical training raise a hand to why this is potentially life threatening?

Despite the protest of your nervous system, you can’t look away. The man in the scene rubs something on her naked skin, in the middle of her chest, almost down to the hairless mound of her sex. “Isopropyl alcohol,” Julian says. He places his warm hand in the middle of your back like he’s trying to manually start your lungs back up. “Breathe.”

You do, let out a big whoosh of air and then take another in. The man lights a torch.

“Fire torch,” Julian says, voice leagues deeper. His hand travels down, nuzzles into the small of your back and makes you let out a little noise that you’re grateful he can’t hear over the music and bustle of the club.

He presses the flame to her sternum, and she hisses, flinching away from the heat, from the flint that lingers on her skin. He extinguishes that same mini bonfire with his palm almost instantly, then creates more. The orange flame reflects on the tears of her cheeks, illuminates the fear in her blown pupils.

Julian rubs little circles into your back, hips, grins when he hears you groan as his thumb slips up the hem of his dress.

It goes on, and Julian has stopped explaining. Stopped moving those skilled fingers. You’re confused, so you look over at him, and realize that you have not seen monstrous from this man yet—not until now. His handsome features are pulled in such an expression of raw, primal hunger, all for that woman’s pain.

You’ve seen that look on a man’s face before. It did not end well for you.

It’s that look on his face that gets you up on your feet, and you say in a voice you yourself hardly recognize, “I have to use the restroom.”

Julian looks disappointed, but he nods. When you’re confident that he’s not going to leap up and follow you, you make your way in said direction on shaking legs. However, once you round the corner out of sight, you are making a B-line for the exit, moving so quickly you almost stumble over your own feet, the desperate animal running through the woods, away from the hungry wolf.

#tom ludlow x reader #street kings #keanuverse fic #keanuverse #julian mercer x reader

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mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess · 2 years

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AITA for getting punched in the face?

So I (16, M) am betrothed to a girl (16, F) I don't really like but my mom and her mom made the arrangement before we were born and neither of our dads (or us) get much say in this because our moms are scary.

Anyway, I really don't like this girl. She's just average and the only reason we're supposed to marry is because our moms are sworn sisters and we're from powerful, noble families. Not to brag, but I'm exceptionally good-looking and highly skilled, and I don't think a girl so meek and ordinary would be fit for me at all.

I don't see the point of hiding my disdain for her. Anyone with a good pair of eyes can see how different I am from her and there is no point in me pretending I feel any different about her.

To preface, I don't think I'm the asshole and I want to prove I'm not the only one who thinks that.

Onto the story:

Some friends were talking about pretty girls and such, and since I don't necessarily care for those discussions, I kept silent. One of them then mentioned I am not saying anything because I am already in love with my forced fiancee and see no other girls as interesting.

I simply responded like I did above: that I find her unappealing and she's not at all my type. Which prompted her almost-brother (long story, but the guy isn't even adopted in the family, just hangs out around them and somehow ended up as head disciple) to punch me in the face. Hard.

I am not weak at all but the hit took me by surprise and led to me walking around with a swollen face for several days. The guy got punished but not without him and my fiancee's actual brother both calling me an asshole.

Could you all convince them I am NTA once and for all?

Edit 1: To update you all, I actually did marry my fiancee (not resulting from the arranged marriage, it was annuled and then we ended up falling in love on our own) and she's an amazing, kind and beautiful person with whom I am going to have a son in a few months.

I was an arrogant, annoying, entitled, incel-esque piece of shit two years ago but thankfully, I got better and am on the way of becoming a decent person and hopefully a good father!!

I love my wife very much and I regret I didn't treat her right from the start, but I now have the rest of my life to make it up to her although I know she has already forgiven me anyway.

Growth is a wonderful thing and I think everyone should embrace it. I used to really hate my life and resent my parents for the environment they have raised me in as an arranged marriage couple that was never really happy. I thought the same would happen to me and I projected all of that onto my wife for no reason - but now I am happily married and feel so loved and appreciated that I can't help but model after my wife's kindness and good character.

Edit 2: My son just came into the world a few days ago. He is happy and healthy and I am fighting with my wife about who gets to hold him more!! I can't wait for his one month celebration, I'll try to make up with my wife's brothers and make sure my son has all his uncles in his life! I'll update you all with pictures after the event!

Last updated: 15 years ago

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #writing attempts #jzx #i love writing posts like this and i also spend too much time on aita

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an0nfr0mth3d3n · 5 months

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Ever heard the ‘Foolish and Bad are divorced’ theory? Here’s totally what happened.

Bad probably lost one of his lovers, and it happened to coincide with Foolish losing one of his lovers, and usually what happens is they seek each other out and cry about it (well Bad cries, Foolish makes a bunch of really sad and deprecating jokes because humor is his coping mechanism).

Well when the coincidence happens, they both end up finding each other and just, venting about mortals and how immortality sucks sometimes, until Bad is like, “gosh darn it Foolish I can’t go through this again. Can you just marry me so we can find love together and not get love-trapped by stupid mortals again?”

(I’m aware the words are out of character but if it was in character the amount of dodging and implying would take up several paragraphs and I’m not doing that)

And Foolish laughs and is like “Aaa fuck it. Might as well try I guess, your stupid ass is the only one who doesn’t leave anyways”

It’s very unofficial, they don’t go to a church or anything, and their rings are just mismatched random rings that Bad stole, but they both have weird and mixed feelings about this.

Bad says he’s sure they’ll love each other eventually (I hc him as demiromantic because it’s on the spectrum and because also that’s me too so yippee)

It takes a day or too before Foolish can’t take it any longer. Not only is it too soon, but when he takes a step back from his grief and actually imagines being in a somewhat romantic relationship with Bad, he wants to puke and roll over and die somehow. Also probably had something to do with the fact that Bad started moving in to his current build project and setting up space there and usually it’s not a promising sign for a marriage if you started the day after absolutely strangling your partner.

Bad also realizes this too. The thought of a traditional marriage at ALL has never sounded appealing. He isn’t one to get domestic with it, and despite trying to set up a home with Foolish sounds unappealing (noooo had nothing to do with the current bruises on his neck right now…) Bad lived for adventure, and liked solitude once in a while, and marriage was just a tether that promised no benefits except for tax purposes and he already evades taxes anyways.

They both fight each other to be the once that divorces the other, and they start by making this EVERYONES problem. They never had a traditional wedding, but they DID go to an official divorce court, making it a point to hire the best talent with divorce lawyers out there. Not that there was much to go on, they were only married for a handful of days, and it wasn’t even official so the lawyers have no clue what to do. They go with it anyways because it’s a totem shark and a demon and they are already beating the shit out of each other in the middle of the court, and the lawyers did NOT want to get in the middle of that.

Bad of course tries to weasel his way into getting 50% of Foolish’s build, and Foolish gets impatient with the court and just attacks Bad himself, fed up at the consistent attempts to steal his build.

They both roll around on the ground, biting, kicking, punching, and both of them are smiling through it. They can lean on each other when times get tough, but Landduo will NEVER stoop to petty human traditions ever again.

(whoops this turned into a mini hc fic)

#badboyhalo #foolish #landduo #foolhalo

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natasha-in-space · 1 month

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All Good Things Must End

Ray/gn!reader;

From the beginning, you trusted Ray with all your heart. He was the embodiment of your fairytale dream come to life. Your respite from all the unappealing troubles of the outside world. But all fairytales have an ending to them. And yours is not as happy as you expected.

CW: brief mention of violence, erratic behavior, depiction of a codependent relationship. This is a Danger Ray fic! Set during V's route. Loosely based on the 7th day outgoing call to V (11:51 AM, after the 'Provoke' chatroom).

Lovely dividers by @/saradika-graphics!

Ray was a good man. A kind man. A fragile man, even. His entire appearance would remind you of a beautiful but delicate flower. So starved for love and warmth, yet so sensitive to every harsh touch of the wind, even the slightest of pushes against its soft petals would make it start to wilt. A flower that needed nothing but some gentle care and love for it to come into bloom. And, of course, you were willing to give him just that. After all, why wouldn't you be? Ray has been nothing but kind and caring towards you, ever since you stepped foot into this strange place, guiding you along the way while holding your hand and not minding any of your clumsy mistakes. He was understanding. Attentive. Curious. Always checking in with you and eager to hear about your day. Never ignoring you or making you feel stupid if you didn't understand a thing or two.

No wonder you found it so easy to open up to him in your short time here. You trusted that he would do no wrong by you. Just as he promised.

At least... that's what you thought. And appearances can be deceiving. Oh, so very deceiving. Now, it felt downright humiliating just how much of a blind fool you really were. How stupidly determined you were to deny and rebuke anyone daring to challenge your views on Ray.

You loyally refused to trust Rika's musings about Ray's 'darkness' during your brief stay with her, dismissing them as nothing but her twisted philosophy that you couldn't even begin to comprehend. You impulsively denied V's numerous warnings not to trust in Ray's sugary words, reassuring yourself over and over again that surely his affections for you must be true and earnest. You turned your back on every nagging suspicion buzzing at the back of your mind during short moments of unrest. You knew in your heart that Ray was a kind, tender boy. He was simply confined to an environment that would exacerbate his worst traits.

And he was only human, right? No one is immune to harmful outside influences being forced down upon them. Anyone could end up in his place one day, even you. It was no reason for you to be hostile and distrustful of him.

Then again, maybe that was just your mind trying desperately to keep you calm in the midst of a horrible storm you found yourself being forcibly thrust into. After all, accepting just how truly bad and out of your control things truly were here... How utterly helpless and vulnerable you were, with no one there to come save you if you needed it... How trapped and isolated you were in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but miles and miles of lush mountain forests, with no civilization in sight...

Just the thought of it would make a heavy lump of acidic bile rise up to your throat. The sad truth is... Ray simply provided you with feelings of solace and comfort that some deeper, weaker part of you was so desperate for. Losing that was something you were not ready to face yet. He was there by your side from day one. He had a better understanding of you than anyone else did. Of course you would cling to his familiar presence for this brief feeling of stability you yearned for so gravely.

In retrospect, it was always a losing battle for you to try and win. You could have done better. You really, really could have done so much better. Yet it still hit you harder than a sledgehammer to the back of your skull, when the bitter reality has finally reared its ugly head to you, without any regard for your fragile heart.

You resent yourself for hitting that call button despite your gut screaming at you not to. You were already well aware that you would regret doing that, somewhere on the back of your mind. But, in the moment, your worry for your friend overpowered your lingering anxiety. Maybe out of some sense of duty. V made it all the way here, just to save you. You played a big role in his capture, in a way. If it wasn't for you, he wouldn't be in danger. And not knowing a single thing about his whereabouts or even his state was... daunting.

So, you dialed his phone number.

You anticipated that he wouldn't pick up. Maybe you would receive a very brief phone call with him begging you to keep yourself safe, like he always would. Or even just a quick exchange of words between you two that would maybe give you even the tiniest of clues on his whereabouts. Something you could then relay to Seven. Make yourself useful. Actually do something, instead of just sitting there and driving yourself mad with dozens upon dozens of anxious thoughts clouding your mind.

What you received was worse than you could have ever imagined.

It was one thing to hear pained groans, gasps, and raspy coughing on the other end of the line. You already had an expectation that V would not be okay when you hear his voice. It still left your knees feeling weak and your heart lurching in your chest with a dizzying intensity, but you could handle that, to an extent. What you couldn't handle was also hearing a familiar soft-spoken voice that has become an unstated but undeniable source of comfort for you. A voice that was now sounding so cold and angry, that your brain had a hard time comprehending what was happening, seemingly shutting down completely, as you remained deathly quiet for the whole duration of that cursed call.

Ray just was not supposed to be there.

You have heard him get angry before. You have heard him lose his grip on reality before. You have heard him say things you couldn't truly agree with, despite you still going along with them regardless, to avoid causing him any disturbance. Those were all aspects of him you were not blind to. You just actively chose to overlook them whenever they would come up. Something that you probably shouldn't have done.

-But you never heard him be so downright cruel and vicious before. Seemingly not at all disturbed by the very real sounds of suffering from the other living person there with him. Even getting angrier at them.

Like it was something completely normal. Not at all worth getting upset or worried over.

You couldn't wrap your head around the fact that this was the same man that worried himself sick over you simply scraping a knee. He was so caring, so empathetic to you back then... over a small cut, of all things. And now, that very same man was not at all disturbed by such grave suffering happening right in front of him.

No, by the sounds of it... he was actively causing it.

And that's not something you could live in peace with.

The call lasted for a maximum of two minutes. That's the time that your phone would display to you whenever you mindlessly return to it, anyway. But it felt way longer than that. For those two horrible minutes, your ears were ruthlessly subjected to the merciless reality you were so desperate to avoid facing up until that very moment.

The bitter truth was that Ray is not a fragile flower. Nor is he a prince from a fairytale. For, fairytales are not reality. No matter how much you want them to be. He was a man, a human being, just like you. Just like every other person in this building. And much like any human being, he was more than capable of causing harm by his own two hands if he so chooses. In fact, he would do so purposefully. And a victim of his spiraling wrath was no longer some faceless unlucky believer that you could forget about in a matter of hours, despite you genuinely feeling bad for them. No, it was your friend. A friend who fought so desperately to save you, even at the cost of his own safety. A friend you have come to care for in the short time you have known each other.

A friend, you knew for sure didn't deserve to be suffering in the way that he was. By the hands of your other friend you cared for just as deeply.

Such reality was just too cruel for you to bear.

So, you do the most foolish thing of all.

You confront Ray head-on.

"-Y/N, you must be confused... I've done no wrong. I do admit that I... did loose myself for a moment there, but- but it was his own fault! If he just kept quiet and drank the elixir like my Savior has instructed, I wouldn't get so upset with him. And he kept saying his stupid lies... He wouldn't shut up. My head hurt so bad... You have no idea."

You are left feeling sick to your very core by the soft apologetic smile reflected on Ray's face, once you do have a chance to finally face him again. No matter what you say, how hard you try to show him how wrong and cruel his actions really were, it was all completely pointless. For someone so seemingly skittish and subservient, Ray was frustratingly stubborn in his beliefs. It was like throwing a tennis ball at a wall. The more force you put into your throw to get your point across, the harder it just bounces right back into your face, leaving you with the painful sting of your failure.

You shake your head, an ugly mess of emotions steadily clouding your sense of judgment. At some point, you lose track of your location and position. All caution goes out the window. All that remains is a debilitating feeling of betrayal, clutching at your insides like metal rods slowly puncturing your very heart. "It is still wrong, Ray! How can you not see that!? He was suffering, and you just- just-"

The words don't come out of your mouth, obstructed by the suffocating lump stuck in the middle of your throat. You were going in circles now. You have been trying to get through to him for almost ten minutes straight, and still no results. You have to take a moment to try and regain your breathing. A soft glowed hand rests gently upon your chin, causing you to tilt your head to meet Ray's gaze instead.

You are disgusted by the genuine concern etched onto his delicate features. By the unfeigned emotions of nothing but genuine care and affection swimming in his eyes as he looks at you. By the tender touch warming up your clammy skin. All of it is sincere. You know he is not lying to you. Not right now, at least. And that is a sickening realization to come to.

More than anything, you are disgusted by the simple fact that you cannot perceive him as a monster or an angel. Ray is no perfect prince from a fairytale, no matter how hard he may try and appear to you as such.

He's a human.

Just like you.

And this implies that he is capable of all the atrocities that any human being is capable of. As much as he is kind to you, he can also be cruel to others. As much as his hands soothe and tremble when they brush up against yours, they can also hurt and sully those he harbors hatred for. It's not all black and white, as you would like to delude yourself into thinking.

And his actions were truly appalling to you. You couldn't live in your fantasy world anymore. It was sullied. Destroyed beyond repair. Your Wonderland has been corrupted from the start, and you just denied each and every sign of it, until it was too late.

"My prince/ss... It pains me to see you in such distress. Though, your tender heart is another trait of you that I adore," Ray whispers to you softly, his thumb lightly brushing over your cheekbone. He was touching you so gently, it's almost like you were made out of glass. And yet, just a few hours earlier, these exact hands were causing so much suffering to someone you care so deeply about. The thought prompts you to swallow hard and clutch your hands together as they start to shake. He continues, seemingly undisturbed by your lack of a positive response. "-But believe me when I say that that villain is not deserving of your compassion. He tried to take you away from me... To ruin what you and I have built together. I cannot stand by and watch him do that to us. What if you got hurt because of him? I would never forgive myself, if that were to happen."

You shut your eyes, refusing to accept the reality unfolding before you. Everything was wrong. So very wrong. One part of you wanted to scream and shout at him, to make him see the twisted nature of his words by pure unrelenting force if you have to. But there was another part of you that contemplated just giving up and concluding this interaction altogether. The debilitating feeling of helplessness was just too much for you to handle.

You are not allowed to do either of those things, however. Instead, another hand lightly rests on the small of your back, pulling you in towards the source of your distress. And you don't fight it. You feel your forehead come in contact with Ray's chest, his flowery scent filling your senses, as both of his arms are now circling around you. You hear a happy sigh fall from his lips. It all seemed like a very cruel joke on you. A moment that seemed so sweet and touching, bringing you nothing but more hurt and anguish.

Did he really not see anything amiss with any of this?

"I missed you so much, my flower... You know, when I heard that liar try and talk to me like he knew you better than I do, I felt like I might just strangle him right then and there. Make sure he never utters your lovely name ever again." Ray's voice is slightly gruff from how quiet it is against the side of your head. A low hum vibrates in his throat as he nuzzles into your hair like an affectionate cat would, breathing in your scent with all the longing you could possibly ask for. Though, the only thing that comes from his affections is a sickening feeling of dread for you.

"-But I thought of you. I thought of your lovely smile... Your eyes, your voice. I know I shouldn't think like this, but... You gave me more strength than my Savior's words ever did. What I did... I did for you. For us, Y/N." He continues, taking a step back from the hug to look at you. Your gaze is cast low, as you don't reciprocate the gesture. You can't bring yourself to look at him right now. It's hard to even keep yourself from putting your hands over your ears to avoid hearing it all. He gently tilts your head up, however, making it clear that he wants you to look at him. "Please don't be upset... It breaks my heart to see you sad because of that villain."

That's when the dam inside of you finally shatters, all repressed emotions spilling out in a violent wave of hopelessness you cannot bring yourself to stop. You wrench yourself away from Ray's arms, your own hands now clenched into tight fists as you look him directly in the eyes. There's a fire burning ever hotter inside of your chest, and you make no attempt to put it out. You let it take over you completely, consequences be damned.

"Villain?Villain!? Ray, he did all he could to save me! And you locked him up and tortured him for that!"

Your mind is screaming at you to stop. To stop and fix things before they spiral too out of your control.

You're being too aggressive. Too blunt. Too disobedient. Staying safe requires you to be both calm and smart about this. And you are neither of those things right now.

But you don't care.

Even as you see the emotions in Ray's eyes shift from that suffocating affection to a mix of desperation and frustration you know well. He makes a step towards you. You make two steps back. This makes his brows furrow in what you could only assume was dissatisfaction.

You never backed away from him before.

"Save you...? No. No. Y/N, he tried to steal you from me. Poison you with his lies, like he has done to my Savior. He did it to me, too! I'm the one who saved you. I did what had to be done to protect you!" You can actively hear his voice changing from the shaky disbelief at your denial of him to rough desperation to prove you wrong. It's borderline scary how quick those changes are occurring right in front of your eyes. Almost in a blink of an eye. It's yet another blaring warning for you to stop.

One that you ignore.

Instead, your frustration boils up inside of you, making you sneer at his stubborn refusal to see reason: "By hurting him!? By making him choke and gag in pain? What was the point of-"

Your angry line of thought is instantaneously interrupted by a small yeep that slips past your lips, as Ray closes in on you in just a couple of quick steps, grabbing at your wrists with a tight grip. Tight enough to cause you some discomfort. His eyes are wide, and his breathing is noticeably shaky. Like he's fighting to get enough air into his lungs and failing miserably. He yanks you close, making you stumble into him without much time for you to struggle or push back against him. Mostly due to your state of pure disbelief. You never expected Ray to actually do anything to you. And while he wasn't actively hurting you, this was still shattering your perception of him to bits and pieces. Or, what remained of it.

"That was nothing, Y/N. He deserved all of that. He deserved that and more. You feel sad for him? You wish mercy on him?" You are suddenly pushed back against the wall, and Ray's slim form keeps you trapped in this makeshift cage you created for yourself with your reckless actions. Ray's voice grows shakier, yet also significantly lower. It sounded dangerous. Angry. His nose brushes up against yours, as he's leaning so close to you, you can't focus on anything but him. Your breath hitches as you instinctively press yourself up against the wall, the panicked pounding of your heart echoing in your temples. "You have no idea how badly he hurt me. What pain I went through because of that- that-"

You can't help but wince in pain as his grip on you tightens. An action that seems to immediately shake Ray out of his temporary fit of anger, as he gasps and quickly lets go of you, stumbling backwards with a frightened expression painted over his features. You don't even have to look at him to know that he is probably in a less than stable state of mind. You are left staggered, betrayed and confused, as you stand there, eyes cast low, rubbing at your wrists. They didn't hurt. Not much, at least. It's the psychological aspect of it that left an impact of you.

Ray's voice feels muffled as it reaches your ears through the constant flow of thought in your head.

"I- N-No, Y/N, I'm sorry, I didn't want to- Are you hurt?" You can see him taking a step back towards you, hand reaching out for yours, probably to check on your wrists. You can tell he's scared. And upset. Probably guilty. Which makes this even harder for you to grapple with.

Either way, you cut him off, not wanting to hear any more of this. Partially because you understand that staying to listen will only cause you to break further, if it was even possible at this point. Because he sounds so genuine, nervous, and miserable, it makes your heart ache for him despite yourself. Makes you want to look up, smile, and say that you're okay. That you two can figure it out together.

And you don't want to repeat the same mistake twice.

"Just... Leave, Ray." You mutter out quietly, not raising your eyes at him. You sound a bit too soft for your liking, but it'll do. Swallowing, you repeat yourself for good measure. "Please. Leave."

There is a prolonged pause between the two of you. It's almost too lengthy for comfort. Neither of you say anything for a while. But the tension in the air is thick, and it does not fade with time. It only grows. Crawling over you like snakes. There is a fear within you that prevents you from looking at him. A fear of seeing the pain in his eyes. Or, instead, to come face to face with that same anger that felt so alien to you.

Ray finally speaks up. His voice is barely audible.

"...N-No..."

He moves closer to you still. For the second time today, you are finding yourself backing away. But now, you turn your back on him and keep your hands locked where you can see them. You can feel them shaking. With a sigh, you repeat: "Leave."

And, as you soon learn, that was not a very wise choice for you to make.

You're quickly spun around before you can think to act, and Ray's fingers are digging into your shoulders with a disturbing intensity, leaving you little time to react. He's observing you as if you were a wounded animal that was left behind after being hit by a car. Like you're the saddest creature he had ever seen. And, for some reason, that look scares you more than the previous anger he showed you.

"I can't believe this..." He murmurs under his breath, his eyes darting over your figure, almost like he was searching for something physical on you that could be visible to the human eye. But he doesn't find it, and that seems to upset him further. You try to pull away from him, only to get jerked back in again, his hold on you tightening.

Only this time, he does not pay any attention to your visible discomfort. He was too occupied with his own thoughts that you were not aware of. It's like he doesn't even see you. Not fully, anyways.

He holds your chin and tilts your face to examine you more closely. As he does, his shaky breath sneaks over your cheek and causes you to shiver in place.

"He... He poisoned you, didn't he...?"

The hushed murmur sounds so utterly ridiculous that it almost makes you forget about the disturbing nature of this situation for a good moment. Yet, he was completely serious. And he wasn't even talking to you, by the looks of it.

"What? Ray, I-"

"-That's why you are saying all these things to me... That's why you don't trust me anymore." Ray cuts you off as if you were not there, his brows furrowing into a deep scowl, but not one aimed directly at you. One of his hands grips onto your chin, while the other finds your hand and takes it into his own, his fingers sliding between yours. He grasps it tight, in a hold that would feel reassuring, if it wasn't for the circumstances. "My Y/N wouldn't tell me to leave. I should've guessed..."

A shiver of fear runs down your spine. As your outburst of frustration subsides, you slowly start to realize the seriousness of this situation for you, as the fire of anger and betrayal subsides. Now you wish Ray was angry again. At least then he still listened to you. But how can you fix things when he doesn't even acknowledge you?

"-Don't worry," You are brought back to reality by a warm and assuring smile on Ray's face. One that only makes you feel nauseous. He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, making your breath hitch. Staying there, he whispers onto your skin, like a secret promise only for your ears to hear. "I will fix it, my prince/ss. I shouldn't have been away from you for this long in the first place... My Savior is far too busy to give you the care and attention you need. But now, I'm here. And I'm not leaving your side again. I promise. I'll make sure you are smiling again."

He does not let go of you again. While your fairytale might have been broken, his has only begun its story. And his happily ever after is not something he will give up on. Even if you did.

#mystic messenger #mysmes #mysme #mm #ray choi #choi ray #mystic messenger ray #saeran choi #ray x reader #saeran x reader #i am spraying him from a water bottle because he's being a bad kitty #but uh #anyways #i love his more dangerous side in v's route #the scene with him torturing v is one i don't see many talk about #also he's a bit more erratic here #not as premeditated as danger ray is usually portrayed #i read through and listened to his bad endings and his overall behavior #and it's a thing i am very fascinated by #how quick he is to lose his composure and act out in a way he feels guilty for moments after #or how quick he is to switch #from the panicked desperation to complete delusion #and i feel like once that switch happens #you're done #you're just done #he won't listen to you #he's too stuck in his own head #it happens during the another story bad ending #and it somewhat happens in his bad ending during v's route #he's very possessive or you and - subsequently - his fairytale reality

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acourtofthought · 28 days

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Regarding Lucien’s scars. I think it’s basically a headcanon in the fandom that Lucien still has the scars on his back from being whipped, but if those are present in canon too, that could be interesting. Howeverrrr… the facial scar must be kind of a big deal for Lucien. Amarantha attacked him 50ish years ago and then within a few days she organized that masquerade ball “in Lucien’s honor” - the masked theme was a scheme to help him basically hide what she did to his face. Then the masks were plastered to the faces of everyone in Spring Court because Tamlin didn’t accept to sleep with Amarantha. So here’s Lucien, hiding his scars for 50 years no matter how uncomfortable the whole mask situation may have been… but now his facial scar that he cannot hide anywhere (unlike Azriel’s hands) is just in full view for anyone who looks at him. I think there is no question about it. He must be self conscious about it, especially since he thinks Elain is the most beautiful female he has ever seen and she doesn’t reciprocate anything yet. People have been writing about it here on tumblr recently but I really hope SJM explores Lucien’s character from this perspective too. I assume he must feel very inadequate compared to Elain. She has so much (family, friends, connected to the IC, safety and security, beauty, etc.), whereas Lucien refers to himself as a whole lot of nothing. He doesn’t have a home or even a court, he’s basically all alone in the fae world, his closest allies are two humans who so far don’t have much power or influence in Prythian. I assume he is probably also unhappy with his looks after such a traumatic experience. I hope SJM explores this, I think that would be a really cool addition to Elucien’s healing journey. Even though Lucien is quite snarky and cocky outwardly, his inner monologue seems very self conscious. Ahhh SJM give us the angstttttt

I AGREE!!!!!! I think while there are sincere aspects of Lucien's personality that are (hahaha, I just accidentally typed snocky which was my brain getting confused on whether I wanted to type snarky or cocky first) snarky and cocky, I also feel it's a default mechanism too. Lucien is known to take care in his appearance and he is aware of appearances. Even in book once he was a bit of a fashionista, commenting on how Feyre's tunic wasn't as pretty as a dress and being amazed at how positively fae she looked when she did finally put one on. There's also this: Lucien said, "True. But indulge me: you're a human woman, and yet you'd rather eat hot coals than sit here longer than necessary. Ignoring this" - he waved a hand at the metal eye and brutal scar on his face-" surely we're not so miserable to look at. Lucien must be constantly aware of others looking at him and I'm guessing he's never sure if it's about the eye or if his scars are unappealing to them. For someone who does care about appearances, whose job it is to talk to High Lords and make friends to be a successful emissary, there is definitely an inner discomfort he's trying to brush off through his nonchalance and jokes about his appearance. I think you're right. Elain is beautiful to the point that people talk. Eris somehow heard across courts that Lucien's mate is a real beauty. She had heiresses jealous of her at barely thirteen. Her mother commented that if her beauty held, she'd be able to secure them a decent match on the marriage market (Elain was 11). So Lucien comes along and not only is he given this super special, sacred bond with her but she turns out to be the most beautiful female he'd ever seen all while knowing that she's in love with someone else. And there he is, with no home, no family name, a scar running down his face and one eye. I would take Lucien in a second and we know that many in the ACOTAR world reference his good looks but you can see how he would struggle with his appearance. You can see how Elain literally took his breath away and she did not seem effected by him (I imagine we'll find out that wasn't the truth in her POV but it's how he perceived it at the time). He thinks she doesn't want him or need him and I definitely think we're going to find that he's been feeling very insecure about her perception of his physical appearance.

#lucien vanserra #pro elucien #pro lucien vanserra #elucien

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i-think-i-did-it-again · 8 months

Text

The Tour XIII

A/N: this chapter is way longer than intended but I didn’t want to break it into 2 parts so sorry about that! Enjoy 😘

Warning: swearing, smut, mentions of drugs and alcohol.

The air in your hotel room is thick. Colson just told you that his recent party boy behaviour has something to do with you and you can’t seem to wrap your head around it. Your legs feel like jelly but your feet are concrete. You’re trying so hard not to freak out but it’s near impossible with his eyes on you. You need a second.

You move rapidly to the bathroom, slamming the door behind you, and lean against the sink. If you were in your right mind, you’d probably demand Colson leave so you can get your bearings.

“You.”

His word hangs in the air like a stifling breeze. You want to know more but you can’t bring yourself to face him again. Not yet at least. The coward's way out is to just hide in the bathroom and hope that he’ll eventually leave but you know Colson, he’s as stubborn as you are. He’ll wait you out until the sun rises and the thought of sleeping on a cold tiled floor or bathtub is very unappealing.

You take a deep, steadying breath, splash some water on your face and open the bathroom door again. Colson sits unbothered on the edge of your bed, playing with the ring on his middle finger and staring at the floor. He looks up at you as you clear your throat, willing the words out of your mouth.

“What the fuck does that mean?” you ask in a hushed tone and he smiles softly at you. He pats the spot on the bed beside him and you take it, cautiously.

“I’m not going to lie, when Rook brought you around that first time I didn’t like you. He’d told me about your failed date and I thought that was it but then he showed up at my house with you on his arm and I saw fucking red,” you gulp but he softens his words by stroking your thigh and you relax, a little. “I guess I was just masking my intimidation by being an asshole and part of me thought that maybe Rook was just pretending to only want to be friends because his ego wouldn’t let him admit he liked you if you didn’t feel the same way. Then I watched the two of you and it was pretty clear there was nothing there. After that, I kind of got used to the idea of you being around but then you weren’t really around all that often.”

It’s true. In the beginning, you were so spun out about the idea of being friends with famous people that you didn’t do all that much socialising with them. You’d always sort of kept to yourself most of the time anyway so you’d never had to factor in making plans with others. It wasn’t that you objected to the company, you just weren’t used to it.

“That drove me fucking insane,” he half growls, half groans and you’re instantly turned on by it.

“What do you mean?” you squeak, biting your bottom lip.

“Rook didn’t say much about you other than the fact that you were cool to hang out with. I don’t know if he was intentionally keeping me in the dark or if he was just oblivious to my need to know. Either way, the fact that you didn’t really seem to come around often made it impossible to get to know you, which made me want to get to know you more.”

You ponder that for a moment. In the beginning, before your crush on Colson began, you didn’t really give much thought to him. You didn’t obsess about what he was doing or if he was thinking about you, you didn’t second guess every little thing he said, the way you do now. You miss that version of yourself. The one that didn’t give a fuck.

“So what you’re saying is, you were infatuated with me?” you grin at the horrified look on Colson's face. “Kells, I’m just fucking with you!” you laugh at the pale sheen his face has taken on. He shakes his head but continues to talk anyway.

“When you started coming around more often, I tried to keep a distance. I guess, observing from a distance type of thing but I found you so…intriguing that you I failed almost every time. Then we became part of the group, I forced myself to push all of that away and just be a friend. Then I met Megan.”

You flinch at the mention of her name. Even though you were a part of the group first, she always managed to make you feel like an insider. You don’t really know if she did it on purpose or if she just had that effect on people but it was unnerving either way. You hung around them less when she was around. Rook was the only one in the group you ever hung out with one on one, until you developed a closer friendship with Ashleigh and then Sophie, so you still knew what was going on in the group thanks to him.

“I knew it was wrong and that I was 100% committed to what I thought her and I had but you were always there in the back of my mind. Like an itch you can’t scratch or a puzzle you can’t solve. It was frustrating and all consuming at the same time. That’s probably why I missed the signs with Megan. Not that’s your fault or anything.”

You didn’t think he was blaming you for the end of his relationship but now you kind of wonder how committed he really was if he still thought about you from time to time. You’d never seen yourself as a puzzle. You thought you were pretty fucking obvious most of the time, an open book, but apparently not.

“Did you love her?”

Your question surprises him and he takes a few moments to gather his thoughts. You can’t remember the last time you saw Colson sit still for this long, let alone have such an honest conversation. You’re so used to ‘life of the party’ Colson that this ‘controlled and soft spoken’ Colson is almost off putting.

“In the beginning, yes definitely but…” he falters slightly before continuing. “As I got to know her, the real her, there were parts of her that were hard to love. I hated the way she treated people that she thought were beneath her and she never had a nice thing to say about my friends, any of them. I think I was so blinded by the thought of ‘happily ever after’ I ignored all those sides to her. I made excuses for them and I regret that but I don’t regret her. Does that make any sense?”

You nod and he almost breathes a sigh of relief. “You learnt from the relationship so you wouldn’t take it back but there are parts of it you wish you’d done differently.” You could understand that perfectly.

The two of you sit there in a comfortable silence for a moment, letting everything Colson shared sink in. You don’t know how you missed the signs that he wanted to get to know you but after what he’d said, it was obvious he hadn’t wanted you to see them and he did a great job at hiding that. You still didn’t really get an answer to your question though.

“So why have you been such an asshole lately?” you turn your body so you can face him, making sure you can properly read his expression and make sure he’s not lying.

“When the relationship ended, I was relieved and then I felt guilty about that. The whole thing fucked with my head but there was this overwhelming part of me that I was desperately trying to silence.”

He stands to his feet and begins pacing back and forth. You follow his movements with your eyes, wringing your fingers nervously as he thinks. He kneels in front of you suddenly and you’re taken aback by it. He looks up at you with those eyes that could just about melt your heart and your brain if you aren’t careful. Colson’s voice is so quiet you have to strain to hear him when he finally speaks again.

“There was this voice that was…screaming at me to call you, to see you. I felt like I barely knew you but it was like my subconscious wanted to. I pushed it as far down as I possibly could but I couldn’t get it to shut up. When I would drink or use it would be quiet so I could get a little relief.”

“Why did you need to silence it?” your voice is just as quiet as his.

“I didn’t want to make things uncomfortable by trying to pursue something with you if you didn’t feel the same way, I mean we’d barely hung out alone since we’d met. Rook will kill me for saying this but…he made a point of telling me you were off limits. Rook is never serious about anything but about this, he was deadly serious and I wanted so badly to respect him, even if it meant driving myself insane.

You can’t help the small part of you that is angry at Rook for doing something like that. You’re an adult who is fully capable of making decisions about your own love life and you don’t need a ‘big brother’ to step in and do it for you. You’ve had enough people in your lifetime try to tell you what to do, how to behave, who you can and can’t associate with. When you finally started making decisions that were purely selfish, you finally began to feel happiness. You refuse to let Rook take that away from you. You push that conversation to the back of your mind, for now.

“I could’ve…stayed away, if you’d asked, to make things easier for you. I still could if that’s what will help you.”

“No.” Colson’s response is immediate and definite. You reach out and brush your fingertips along his cheekbone, watching his eyes flutter shut.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, not really sure what you’re apologising for but feeling like it’s the right thing to say.

When Colson’s eyes open, he looks torn. Like that no matter what decision he’s about to make, it will be the wrong one. His eyes dark to your lips and a rush of heat finds your cheeks. You bite your bottom lip and Colson groans at the sight. You’re not sure if it’s a groan of pleasure or dismay and it leaves an unsteady feeling in your chest. Colson leans closer to you, his lips ghosting over the skin of your neck and your breath hitches.

“I need you,” he whines against the column of your throat and you lean your head back to give him better access to your neck.

You know you shouldn’t but you wrap your hand around the back of his head and pull him closer to you. Colson kneels higher so that he is between your legs, gripping your hips tightly in his grasp. You pull again, leaning back on the bed so you’re lying flat and he is hovering above you.

“Have me,” you growl as his lips find yours and finally they connect.

Colson’s kiss is hot, deep and full of passion. It’s unspoken words, thoughts and emotions mixed with desire and desperation. The feeling is like nothing you've ever experienced before. You never want this feeling to end. It’s that feeling you get when your swing reaches its highest peak or when you run so fast you feel nothing but absolute freedom. Colson’s lips are a cool summer breeze through your hair, a hot shower after getting caught in a storm. He is comfortable, relief and absolute ecstasy all rolled into one.

“Strip for me baby,” he instructs between kisses. You reach down to unzip your boots but his hand wraps around your wrist to stop you. “Except those.”

You lean up to pull your top over your head and you break contact with Colson’s lip for no longer than a couple of seconds but you already crave them again. You toss your top and move to the zipper of your skirt, flinging it into the darkness as Colson’s lips find the cleavage of your breasts. He trails kisses all over them. He pulls one of the cups down and envelopes your nipple with his lips. He laps at your nipples, sucking and caressing them with his tongue.

“Fuck Kells,” your voice quivers as pleasure takes over.

Colson reaches behind you to unclasp your bra and rid you of the obstacle. His mouth moves to your other nipple and he gives it the same attention, using his thumb and forefinger to tweak the other one. You’re not sure if you can cum from this alone but at this moment in time, it damn sure seems possible.

Colson slips his fingers between your thighs and grazes your slit through your soaked panties with his thumb. You all but throw yourself off the bed at the intense pleasure that flows through you.

“I don’t…think…I can do…foreplay tonight,” you pant out as he repeats the gesture over and over again, your body singing with euphoria.

“Mmm damn baby, that keen for my cock already?” he grins against your sternum. “I was about to make that pretty pussy of yours cum all over my face.” you sit up to look him directly in the eye.

“Cock now, mouth later.”

Colson wastes no time in stripping his clothes off and climbing on top of you. He lines his impressive cock with your hole and thrusts into you with one large movement. You cry out in pain and lust as he settles against your neck. He bites down on the sensitive skin and you're practically purring.

“More,” you beg as he lies still.

Colson reels back and slams into you again, eliciting the same reaction from you. He continues to slam into you again and again until all you can do is allow your orgasm to explode. You cream all over him, squirting for the first time ever as he refuses to slow himself down. As you come down from your high, you feel him twitch inside you before filling you with hot semen.

“Ah fuck baby, yeah fuck take my cum you dirty girl,” he growls in your ear and you convulse around his dick.

Colson rolls off you, panting and grinning like an idiot. You stand to head to the bathroom to clean yourself up but he stops you. He pulls you back to the bed by your waist, holding you against him. He kisses your hair, your cheeks, your wrists, each individual finger until you’re giggling under the assault of his kisses.

“I want to kiss every inch of your skin,” he tells you between kisses.

“Funny because I want to lick every inch of yours.”

His jaw drops and you take his momentary shock to quickly escape his clutches and you head for the bathroom to shower and get ready for bed.

“You coming cowboy?” you call over your shoulder as you pull your boots off and panties off, flicking them at his stunned face with a shit eating grin plastered on your face.

This is going to be fun.

*********

Tag list: @mgklove99xx @anonymousme86

#colson baker #machine gun kelly #mgk #tickets to my downfall #mgk imagine #ttmdf #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #machine gun kelly imagine #mgk x reader #mgk smut #colson baker smut #colson baker x reader #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly smut

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spacexseven · 2 years

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What's your ideas on a yandere reader? I envision a more highly devoted type that borders worship. I'm curious for Atsushi and Kunikida would deal with this. Maybe Dazai too.

i always love to read anything to do with yandere reader :> it's been growing on me recently but honestly i feel like i can never write it in a way that isn't unappealing to read 😭 (i got carried away at some parts)

cw yandere reader, yandere character, obsession, stabbing, general descriptions of violence (dazai's part) stalking, jealousy, possessive behavior, unhealthy relationships, manipulation codependency.

initially, atsushi would be very uncomfortable with that level of devotion. he doesn't think he deserves it, and even if your compliments and concerning amount of praise flatter him, he knows it's not...normal. you shouldn't hold anyone, let alone him in such high regard. but still, if you persist, he feels like he owes it to you to reciprocate your feelings at least to some degree. it's not like he's had anyone else that's been interested in him before, and definitely not like this.

the guilt never fades, but he grows a little compliant, not protesting when you cancel his plans and tell him to stay away from his friends. how can he say no and watch your face fall? he hates disappointing anyone, and knowing you would do anything for him makes him never want to disappoint you.

while he may never understand the fierce possessiveness in your eyes when anyone else approaches him or the desperation in your voice when you plead with him for his love, he thinks he can grow to accept it. it doesn't hurt to feel wanted, and he thinks after all the days he's felt absolutely useless and undeserving of any happiness, this isn't too bad.

it feels nice to be so loved, even if he knows, deep down, that it can't be healthy.

for kunikida, he's really just confused at first. why would anyone allow themselves to become so bothered with someone else? it just feels useless to him. so when he learns of your feelings, and towards him, he's even more perplexed. what did you see in him? he approaches you directly about it, and you aren't so shy that you wouldn't answer him, although he can tell you're intimidated. you tell him he's your idea of an ideal partner—clever, determined, quick on his feet and loyal. he was perfect, in your eyes. and you believe he deserves someone to worship him. someone to care for him like he cares for others, someone to know him beyond his sometimes harsh exterior. and then you tell him that you haven't been lucky enough to peek into his book yet, but you hope you qualify for at least one requirement of his ideal partner. kunikida goes home that night, and stares at his list for the ideal partner. after a long time, he picks up his pen and makes some changes. he can't exactly understand you, but he can appreciate your efforts. his favorite drink on his bedside every morning with a note from you, just the way he keeps his cup—he overlooks the obvious breach of privacy in favour of the comforting warmth from his drink. your attempts to conform to his wishes, no matter how inconvinient. your constant praise and love for him. still, he knows it's unhealthy. he knows it's not right but...he grows to enjoy your presence. he tells himself that soon, he'll stop you. he'll talk to you some other time, about working on your attachment to him. for now...he can relish in your total trust in him.

dazai couldn't believe it at first. he already caught on to your not so subtle stalking a while ago—you weren't as good as you'd think, but he found it oddly endearing. he would be flattered, even, that someone cared so much. he definitely didn't need you to keep an eye out on him as he ventured through dangerous alleys alone, but it was nice to know someone was looking out for him.

he might even find it sweet.

for all he likes to act like nothing bothers him and he's always alright, he kind of likes to be acknowledged in this way.

so his next course of action would be to stalk you, obviously! alright, so that startled expression whenever you catch him looking, that flustered look when he smirks at you, telling you that he knew what you were up to, stirred something inside him. but what could he do? you were just so cute! he gets to know you (by watching you through the windows) and he's struck by how...normal you are. you really weren't pretending around him at the office. he texts you and watches your face light up. he sends you selfies and watches as your eyes grow wide and your breath hitch. you really did like him, didn't you? he does it on purpose, sometimes. flirts with the waitress as you seethe from the corner, wondering how far you'd go for him. you don't hurt her, but you didn't need to—that burning glare from you that day sent her running away from dazai every time after that. when he watches you stab fyodor, lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood, spitting out curses at him for hurting your dazai, landing a hand on him—he smiles, despite himself. he feels lightheaded. he thinks it's from the wound at first, but realises you probably drugged him. you didn't have to, but he doesn't mind. your usual softhearted nature burned away in your rage, eyes sharp and hands steady as you plung the knife in and out. you don't give the man a quick death, swearing he would pay for ever daring to touch dazai. he's almost jealous that the other man is getting all your attention, but he isn't afraid.

you're doing this because you loved him, after all, and he knew in that moment he would do the same.

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