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navstuffs · 1 day

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hi!! i really love your writing and i would love if you could feed me with a request (only if you're comfortable with it, ofc) 👉🏼👈🏼 what about a leon x reader where reader is passing through a very tough depressive crisis and is really not fine mentally speaking — and leon just try to help and comfort them through this? 👉🏼👈🏼

anyway, thank you for your fics, they really helped me these days 😭💗

Anchor

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GNPartner!Reader

Summary: It is 1 am when Leon Kennedy knocks on your door. He shouldn't be there and you shouldn't have opened it.

Warning tags: hurt/comfort, angst, leon almost died, reader is suffering with anxiety due to past events, can be read as platonic or romantic (you choose)

Writer's Notes: hello! first of all, im sorry i took so long to write this request for you. i changed some stuff and i hope you don't mind (reader is still depressed). thank you so much your kind words and i hope this fic serves as comfort for you!! <333 stay safe anon!

for more painful leon's fics, check my masterlist. i have some happy ones too :)

It is 1 am when Leon Kennedy knocks on your door. It is the third time that week only, the fifth of the month.

It starts when you don’t appear at work after two weeks since his return, and no one knows where you are. HR informs you are sick, which means you are still alive somewhere in the world, just sick. Okay, but sick with what? Sick how? Are you in the hospital? Do you need any help? Leon knows you don’t have family around, like him, and you are pretty much alone - like him.

So, as any regular worried friend would, he calls and texts. He wants to hear your voice and guarantee that you don’t need help and have everything you need. That you truly are okay. No answer. HR has guaranteed him you are not dead, but what if you—no, he shouldn’t think about that.

The next step is going to your house. He knows where your address is and wouldn’t be a complete weird appearing there in the afternoon. No answer. Leon won’t be a creep as far as looking at your windows, at least not yet. He won’t go as far as busting your door and checking how you are feeling because he needs to confirm you are okay. You might just not be home.

On the second visit, Leon got awfully close to kicking your door. Before he could do that or even knock, he saw a shadow pass over the window. Though Leon told himself he wouldn’t, he looked inside just in time to see you disappear to the second floor. So, at least you are really alive, Leon’s body filling with relief. It could have been a bad case of flu, and you don’t want to contaminate anyone.

One more week passes, and he visits your house two more times. Those times you didn’t even bother to hide yourself, lazily lying down on the sofa in a way Leon couldn’t see your face (oh yeah, now he is definitely peeking out your windows). So you are genuinely ignoring him or truly sick with some contagious disease. Maybe Covid?

The fifth time he knocks on your door, it is 1 am and Leon is deeply not only worried but bitter. He was sitting in his apartment alone, wondering what you had and why you didn’t open the door for him. You two are colleagues, and Leon would dare to go as far as to call you his friend if anyone asked. How many times have you brought him soup while he was sick? Brought him meds, kept him company? Checked on him until he was finally all better?

It would be only fair if he did the same.

Leon grabs his keys without even thinking: You will open the door for him tonight. And if you don’t, well, he will kick it open. To hell with the civil approach.

-x-

All the courage slips away from his body when he notices the kitchen’s light on. Leon can’t see anything inside since you decided to make his life harder and close the curtains. So, instead of kicking that door until it’s down, Leon goes back to the gentle approach (like the idiot he is): he knocks.

The door opens not even ten seconds later, and Leon blinks, surprised. You are there. You, not a trick of his eyes: a fluffy and long blanket covering your body, only your face peeking with a familiar expression Leon recognizes immediately - he had seen in his own mirror before.

“You won. What the fuck do you want?” Those are the first words to him in weeks.

“May I come in?”

You ponder for a moment, your eyes red, and Leon wonders when you last slept. You walk away, leaving the door open, and Leon follows inside, locking the door behind him.

Your house isn’t in the best state. He had been here before and thought you weren’t the most organized person (“I can find myself in my own mess, Leon.”). The mess had grown too much from normal. There were tons of take-out boxes on the kitchen counter, pizza boxes, and fast food bags. At least you had been eating—not the best food ever, but feeding. He could work with that.

And the bottles—oh, those Leon would identify anywhere. You weren’t a heavy drinker, and you mentioned plenty of times you didn’t know how he liked whiskey. Now, there were countless empty bottles of whiskey, beer, and vodka, so much so that the place looked like a bunch of frat boys had a party just the night before and didn’t bother to clean.

Leon follows you to the living room as you fall onto the couch. An old Simpsons episode plays on the TV screen. There are still some bags and bottles on the floor, but fewer. Your eyes focus on the TV, not really watching or paying attention to him. Leon stands there, keeping a safe distance from you and gathering what to say.

“I came to check on you.” Leon starts, his eyes glued on you. “You haven’t called or texted me back. The HR said-”

“I am sick. I wanted to be left alone.”

“I know, but-”

“I could complain about this to HR, you know? It could be considered an invasion of privacy, and you could lose your job. “

“I was worried about you.”

“You saw me in the window that day, didn’t you? I’m alive and breathing. Now get out.”

You hide your face in the sofa, conversation clearly done on your side. It feels like an impossible battle to win. Leon then tries again, “Do you need anything?”

“No. Get out.”

He sighs, turning on his heels. Leon wants to say you can call if you need him, any time, but Leon knows you wouldn't. This is an impossible battle to win, Leon realizes as he starts to leave. But then he freezes, a memory piercing his thoughts. Leon comes back to the living room, your face still hidden.

“No.”

“What?”

“I am not leaving. Not before I know what is wrong.”

“I am sick.”

“Yes. So I have heard.”

You don’t turn to look at him, and that’s fine. If you want to be stubborn, so could he. Leon can wait. The episode on the TV finally ends, and as the familiar opening plays in the background, you slowly turn in his direction, one eye appearing first, then the other, as if expecting Leon would be gone by now. Unlucky for you, Leon S. Kennedy didn’t give up that easily, especially for his friends.

“I don’t know what you are feeling, but I know that face.” His voice manages to sound neutral.

Of course, he does. Of course, your partner, the legendary D.S.O veteran, would know. You, just a newbie, would have no idea what he went through, but Leon didn’t seem the kind of person to crumble for anything. Leon would probably be fine if you were the one to get shot, not him. He wouldn’t have panicked, he wouldn’t have started crying, screaming for someone to help them, losing themselves in a sea of despair and pain.

“Hey…”

Blood. So much blood in your hands. You are useless, you can’t help him as Leon’s face loses color-

“Hey.”

He deserved someone better—someone much better as a partner—not you, a weak agent who thought you were strong enough to stand by his side. Oh, how wrong you were.

Leon calls your name, more urgent this time, and your line of sight is filled with the face of the man you considered your friend right at your path—concerned blue eyes, his hair tickling against your face. His forehead is in concentration, the faint ghost of a beard, as he speaks soothingly. “Hey, look at me. You are safe. Deep breaths, come on.”

The visions mix as you blink: Leon losing blood in your arms, unconscious, back to being safe, his worried eyes staring at you.

Your rapid breathing noise fills the room, your heart wanting to burst as the pain spreads over your body, the pain worse than being stabbed or punched. You keep your eyes on Leon - he is fine, he is safe, he is well, he is worried sick about you- as he continues to nod and tell you to breathe.

It takes a while, Leon’s hands on your shoulder as you finally calm down, the tears rolling freely from your eyes.

“I am sorry.” You manage to whisper. “I am so sorry.”

“You are safe. We both are safe.” Leon declares, and you take that in. Right now, yes. But what about tomorrow? What about-? “Hey, eyes open at me.” When had you even closed them? “Come on. There is no one else, just you and me. And we are safe.”

You nod, not arguing back. Finally, you sit down, and Leon takes two steps back. “Water?”

“I think there are some in the fridge,” you reply, cleaning your tears. Leon leaves and quickly comes back with two bottles, unbottling them for you. You shake your head, but Leon insists, and you drink in small sips, the cold liquid refreshing your dry throat. When was the last time you had any water? Or took a shower? Or slept?

Finally, you give him space on the couch to sit. Leon doesn’t, and you point your head to your side, and he sits, keeping a safe distance from you. You two say nothing for a while, simply looking at the TV to watch Bart Simpsons on his shenanigans.

“I am sorry.”

“Would you stop that?” Leon sighs back, frustrated.

“No. I am sorry.”

“Fine. I forgive you. Are we good now?”

“No.”

“I knew it wouldn’t be,” Leon replies with a sad smile.

“You could have died, and I didn’t-” Leon says your name, but you continue “-let me finish. I didn’t help. I didn’t move. I did nothing.”

Leon didn’t want to talk about this, knowing it was inevitable. The day he took a bullet for you: not one, but two. Leon noticed before you, his reflexes quicker than yours. It was his responsibility anyway.

You only watched, shocked, as the bullet pierced his leg, then his chest. You didn’t move or flinch; you just froze, your hands closing and opening nervously as Leon fell right in front of you. You had been fortunate that the backup team had arrived on the other second, finding in the middle of the swarm of bullets a screaming you protecting Leon with his own body, all training thrown out of the window. You two should have been dead. Life had given you and him another chance, since no other vital organ or vein of Leon had been damaged.

You don’t remember much after except asking for your resignation that same day and getting a “No” as an answer. So you decided to get on sick leave until some higher-up got tired and fired you.

“I did nothing.” Leon tries to interrupt you again, but you continue, “You could have died, and I did nothing.”

“It wouldn’t be your fault.”

“What? Of course, it would!”

“No, it would not.”

“Can you fucking stop trying to make me feel better?” Your tone is so angry, so vile, that Leon almost flinches.

Death is always in the back of his mind. Every time he is out there, he could die. He is expandable; they all are, but he couldn’t just let you die. You a much smarter version of what he once was during Raccoon City. The same bravery, but not foolish as his. Much sharper. Leon knew why he got paired up with you in the first place, the irony not completely lost in him.

It would have been fine if Leon died that day he protected you, but not okay if you did. Not on his watch. Not now, not ever.

“I can’t help it,” Leon replies, a sad smile on his lips. “I can’t help it, especially when a friend needs my help.”

A friend?

Do not grow attachments. Wasn’t that your first lesson? It had been hard to be paired up with a man who hated it at first, then to learn how to laugh at his silly jokes or admire how far Leon would go for anyone. For anyone, except himself, stupid brave man.

You open your mouth and close it, simply lying against the sofa with your eyes closed.

“So, let me help you?” His voice is warm and inviting.

It would be best if you said no. You should kick this man out of your living room, out of your life, and never go back to that stupid job fighting an endless battle that would end with you dead or someone you cherished dead. You don’t know how Leon does it, but as you open your eyes, his blue eyes look straight at you awaits in hope. Waiting to comfort you, support you to the best of his abilities, and be your friend.

The pain is still there, vivid in your soul and mind, but there is hope. Right there, in that tiny spot you gave Leon S. Kennedy. That’s why you shouldn’t have opened that damn door, you realize, but it is too late. You limit on nodding.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy fic #leon kennedy fanfics #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy imagines #request #requests #asks #ask

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butch-reidentified · 7 hours

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if you think agp is a thing(and presumably exclusive to trans women) what do you think of cis women claiming to masturbate in front of mirrors and CIA women who report being aroused by breastfeeding?

literally every single answer to these questions is available on my blog. I'm tired of writing the same posts over and over and over. if you can't find sufficient answers scrolling my blog, searching key words on my blog (or on google citing my blog, which yields better results oftentimes), going through the links in my pinned, or checking the tags referenced in my pinned, then I'd say if it's reeeeally important to you to get answers, your best bet will be to sit tight and occasionally check for updates to my Pinned as I am gradually adding more and more links detailing my views, and/or skim my blog from time to time - it's pretty much guaranteed to cycle through again within a month at most 🤷

I was actually gonna put a partial (that is to say, just not my usual thorough, detailed, and nuanced) answer at the beginning, but honestly I'm getting VERY tired of anonymous strangers who most likely just stumbled across my blog for the first time today thinking they're entitled to a personalized thinkpiece from me when almost every time I get an ask like this (which are distinctly different from good faith curiosities, which I'm more than happy to answer), I've already posted my answer, I've already written about the subject in depth on my blog. so I'll put my answer below instead so you have to read all of the above first, so you at least sort of vaguely kinda earn some response by putting in a miniscule fraction of the work/time I've put into both reading/informing myself about all sorts of different opinions, ideologies, experiences, perspectives, and views (rather than just demanding opinions from strangers on anon, lmao) and writing countless posts (& that's just on here, ignoring the offline side which is where I'm wayyy more active), which are almost always VERY long and detailed and proofread and edited and polished several times over.

btw, kind of a side note -- I have NEVER sent a single anon in my life, and I have NEVER, anonymously or not, demanded someone give me a personalized just-for-me explanation of their opinions (or any at all). the reason I call this entitlement is because you (most likely) aren't asking out of genuine curiosity or good faith. you (most likely) are asking because you dislike what you think my views are (you are most likely misinformed and think I believe things I do not) and you (most likely) think this is some kind of gotcha rather than the same ignorant, unoriginal, boring ass points that I've read countless times as far back as when I was a transactivist and trans-identifying myself. they've been debunked/responded to by a LOT of other women, too, and I'm very confident you could easily find at least one such response. I'm not holding you to a standard I don't also hold myself to; in fact, that I'm going to give you any degree of actual answer at all is demonstrative of my holding myself to a HIGHER standard. because again, nothing I'm about to say on this topic is just now in this post being born into the universe as a novel thought. or even a novel tumblr post; like I said, you could find the radfem answers to this ask yourself with just a tiny bit of effort - and while radfems are far from a monolith, and I am a frequent vocal dissenter on a variety of radblr hot topics, this isn't even really a matter of opinion. read on to find out why.

Part A - Not answering the questions here per se, but a clarification of terminology that may help you (any reader, not necessarily anon) see my perspective:

The word "cis" has different definitions. It used to mean someone who is not trans, whereas trans referred to sex-dysphoric transitioners, a demographic who now often prefer terms like transsexual or transsex or simply "sex-dysphoric" BECAUSE they don't agree with gender identity ideology (GII) and object to the way GII has been actively hostile to them and erased transsexuality (and thus their identities, needs, beliefs, and experiences as well), similarly to the ways in which GII engages with pretty much everything that isn't complete and total blind allegiance. These include but are far from limited to:

1. Obfuscating people's (especially children's/young adults' - as they are the primary consumers of most GII content by far) understanding of biology, particularly as it pertains to the sexes of human beings and sexual dimorphism, and inserting "gender identity" as a direct (but importantly not synonymous or remotely parallel) replacement for the material and biological reality of sex. Sex, absent patriarchy and the gender construct, is simply a neutral and factual categorization of human beings: sex categorizes human body types according to the two developmental pathways that evolved solely for the purpose of producing one gamete type or the other to enable perpetuation of the species via sexual reproduction. What this statement does NOT imply to anyone reading it with even an ounce of integrity/intellectual honesty: "women are defined by having babies," "infertile/childfree adult female humans are not women," "humans with anomalous sexual development of any variety are not male or female, but rather a 3rd sex or even proof sex is a spectrum," or anything along these lines; I refer to these arguments as intellectually dishonest because they are originally intentional (disinformation -> misinformation) misinterpretations & serve to moralize, dogmatize, and essentially theologize facts of nature.

This obfuscation of biology is committed via a variety of tactics that frequently include outright gaslighting; "gender and sex are different" turned into "sex is actually a spectrum" (it's not - read on to learn why not!) and then outright science denial while gaslighting others as being the unscientific, uneducated, "3rd grade understanding of biology" ones (again, this is simply factually not true*).

*Feel free to request to see a peer-reviewed neuroscience journal publication bearing my name and/or my thesis (original research regarding the overlapping genetics + epigenetics of norepinephrine dysregulation in both dysautonomia and attention deficit disorders) if you are skeptical of my credentials regarding biology. alternatively, feel free to cite your sources and I will provide a free-of-charge peer review service :)

2. Building from #1, the erasure of patriarchal sex-based oppression of women & girls (by definition: human beings of the female sex, adults & children respectively) via aforementioned tactics obfuscating sex biology & human biology in favor of an innate, internal "gender identity" which is extremely poorly defined with the individual "gender identities" themselves left utterly non-delineated. Gender identity ideology is to be taken entirely on pure faith, despite the fact that there is absolutely no evidence to support gender identity as a universal component of human beings/universal human experience. In fact, the existence of absolutely any nonzero quantity of human beings who do not experience gender identity firmly disproves it as universal human experience - and we know not all humans have a gender identity. However, every human being experiences sexual development, be it typical, disordered (DSDs, congenital infertility, etc), or otherwise anomalous; the vast majority experience typical sexual development, and one's sex is entirely clear in the vast majority of atypical cases as well. Female humans are oppressed on the basis of our biological reproductive capabilities; patriarchy desires control over the female sex as a direct product of its desire to control reproduction. Patriarchy created the gender construct to instill and enforce a caste system between the sexes upholding the patriarchal dogma of male supremacy and female inferiority. Similarly, patriarchy created father-gods in order to make the creation of life a male act. Erasure of sex in favor of the gender construct serves male supremacy and cannot ever be anti-patriarchal or feminist. Evidence of sex based oppression abounds offline (frankly, you need look no further than menstruation stigma in all its forms up to and including menstrual huts, but there is infinitely more evidence) and right here on my blog as well; I even have some posts tagged to serve as proof of sex based oppression.

3. Erasing homosexuality via working toward erasure of exclusive same-sex attraction (this is particularly targeted at lesbians, and this is VERY well documented. I have many examples of this in my TRA Receipts tag, including a particularly excellent masterpost containing, in total iirc THOUSANDS of screenshots), once again replacing sex with "gender identity" as if one's orientation being defined as attraction to another human's invisible, internal, and highly individual "gender identity," which not all humans even purport to have in the first place, could possibly make any sense. This is uniquely absurd.

As stated in the 2nd link in #1 on my Pinned, I object to the usage of "cis" for non-trans-identifying people. Why? At the core of it, because the most commonplace definition of "cis"/'cisgender" that I see at this point in time is "having a gender identity that aligns with what was assigned at birth." As stated above, gender identity is not universal, rendering "cisgender" equally as personal and internal of an identity label as "transgender" - and these are not a pure dichotomy by any means. Radical feminism does not grant any degree of objective factual legitimacy to the gender construct; thus, no radical feminist is or can be, by definition, transgender or cisgender (this does not carry over to whether or not radfems can have dysphoria or even be medically transitioned). Radfems are not the only humans without "gender identities," and it is dishonest and disrespectful to force the term/label onto everyone else according to an ideology we/they may not share.

Part B - The Long-Awaited Answer! [I changed my mind since this ended up significantly longer than initially planned so here ya go]

Autogynephilia was coined as a term with a specific definition. That definition is still the same one in use today. That definition explicitly states that only males can qualify. That definition is: "a paraphilia that describes when a man experiences sexual arousal from the thought of himself as a woman" per Google, and "a male's propensity to be sexually aroused by the thought of himself as a female" per Blanchard's original stated intention for the term he created. Wikipedia goes on to add "intending for the term to refer to 'the full gamut of erotically arousing cross-gender behaviors and fantasies.'"

I have many criticisms of Blanchard himself and of the quality of his research methodologies. However, the evidence for the existence of the paraphilia itself is abundant and undeniable given that many males outright refer to themselves as autogynephiles and many have openly discussed their experiences as someone with this paraphilia. What I do not believe is that all trans-identifying males are AGPs, that there is proven legitimacy to the HSTS/AGP dichotomy (even Blanchard himself said not all OSA trans-identifying males are AGPs - just a whole lot of them), or that non-trans-identifying males can't be AGPs - actually I think it's likely that most AGPs don't identify as transgender.

The core of the paraphilia, the source of the arousal, is a product of the patriarchal sex caste system; autogynephiles are aroused by the idea of themselves as women - as they themselves have stated - because of the sexual objectification of femaleness and/or because they're aroused by degradation and humiliation (as is blatantly obviously on brilliant display in the existence of and obsession with "forced feminization" and similar female-degrading sexual concepts), and the AGP male views femaleness and the gender that patriarchy has forcibly ascribed to femaleness ("femininity") as inferior and thus sees his engagement in performing femininity as degrading - which in turn sexually excites him.

One reason some women find themselves arousing in their own bodies and natural non-performative states is the same as when men find themselves arousing in their own bodies and natural non-performative states: self-confidence increases libido and associations can be made between A and B. Where women and men inevitably differ, however, is about the arousal surrounding performing femininity and/or sexual self-objectification. It is not at all unreasonable to speculate that some women can be turned on when they "feel hot" for a reason other than just self-confidence; for one speculative example, it's possible that some women may see herself in the mirror all dressed up in hypersexualized clothing and feel that they've succeeded in mirroring the pornified images and sexually-appealing-to-males beauty expectations. Ultimately, this is self-objectification. It's patriarchy and the male gaze that have forced these associations onto all of society, and hypersexual associations have a tendency of causing sexual arousal in people (duh).

Oh and I've never heard of women being aroused by breastfeeding, only complaining about it being painful asf, but like. Nipples are among the most common and well-documented non-genital erogenous areas so? This seems terribly unlikely to be a common phenomenon, but utterly irrelevant to the existence of autogynephilia regardless lol. If this is a thing, like I said I doubt it's commonplace at all, but even just hypothetically, I'd say it would distinctly fall in line with everything else I say in this answer. Patriarchy and its pornographers have indeed sexualized breastfeeding - there are a concerning number of men who ask their partners NOT TO BREASTFEED their babies - his own children! - because it makes him JEALOUS and even resent the baby. I'm dead serious you can look this up, it happens. So... read on for elaboration.

I neither know nor care precisely what you're referencing in this ask, because the answer remains the same: autogynephilia by definition can only affect males, and males who have a fetish for the idea of themselves as female, be that through imagining themselves Fucked (anatomically female, specifically in a sexually objectified - aka Fucked - manner; the anatomical/biological form of autogynephilia fetishizes the male subject imagining himself as the female Fucked object of pornography) or Feminine (as discussed above) fundamentally are not and cannot be the same as women who are turned on by feeling like they look sexually appealing or by their own natural anatomy or biological functions (which have been violently hypersexualized by patriarchy). This is a form of internalized misogyny; when men do it, it's just misogyny. These are not the same.

#mine #ask #anon ask #anon #radblr #long post

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katyawriteswhump · 2 days

Text

(i'm still) watching you—harringrove microfic

my first attempt at harringrove and probably totally weird like my usual shit, so… yeah, nervous. but I love prompts/challenges too much to resist… Pls be kind 🙂

WC: 914. For @harringrovemicrofic prompt, green (I also got a passing mention of Jason Carver in for the additional prompt.)

CW: None. Tags: angst, pining, chronic illness (Fibro/Chronic fatigue), enemies to lovers, h/c, no Upside Down AU, slightly soft Billy? Rating: M.

…

Steve hated sitting in the stands watching the Tigers win without him.

Hargrove rained all over the hoop, right until the full-time whistle ripped through Steve’s skull. Simultaneously, Billy ripped his vest off—shouting, thudding his chest, scanning the crowd.

His crazily soft-blue eyes rested on Steve. That smug grin faltered, and Steve’s heart gave a crazy little squeeze.

Billy’s attention snapped away. His teammates carried him on a lap of victory, and Steve shaded his eyes. Too fucking much. Since he’d got sick, the doctors had droned on about Steve having to pace himself. Today, that’d been a bust—all for the torture of watching Hargrove play.

Even though Steve hated him.

And he’d chew on that image of shirtless Billy for goddamn weeks.

“Stop bawling, Harrington.” Steve startled, squinted into the suddenly too-bright light. Tommy H waggled a stuffed tiger in front of his nose: “You can be team mascot. This one’s got even less backbone than you.”

“Jesus, I’m gonna punch your stupid face in!”

Steve pushed himself up. Despite his dumb threat, it took all his strength to stumble away. Halfway to the exit, he collapsed onto a seat, slumping forward with his head in his hands. The crowd stomped by, sending shockwaves through his aching bones. Nobody offered to help. Probably figured he’d bite their heads off…

A hand landed on his shoulder. “You okay?” asked Billy.

WTF? Steve flinched away. Up close, he couldn’t handle those stupidly long lashes and gorgeous eyes. “M’fine.”

“Want a ride?”

“You leaving already?” Steve gawked at Billy’s pecs. “Guess there’s only so much showboating even your fat ego can take.”

Billy arched his brow. “I’m sick of this shit. Your ex-teammates are fucking losers, you know that?”

Uh… Yeah?

“Whatever, dude. I’m leaving with Nance.” Steve had just spotted her with freshman golden-boy, Jason Carver, scribbling madly in her notebook.

“She’s writing an essay on that asshole. Couldn’t bag me. Seriously, I need space. Figured you might too.”

Space with me? “Jesus, you still never stop talking! You hate me. What’s your game?”

Billy shrugged. “I don’t hate you, man. It genuinely sucks you had to be benched. Don’t have to believe me, but I actually miss you.”

Miss humiliating me? Miss me rubbing my ass against you while you shoved me around!?! Guess I enjoyed touching you as much as I hated you. I mean, uh, I STILL hate you…

“I don’t need your fucking sympathy, Hargrove.”

“Not offering fucking sympathy.”

Steve’s heart repeated that crazy squeeze. He’d grabbed the hem of Billy’s green shorts before he knew it.

Don’t leave. I honestly can’t get up without help right now. Won’t ask for help, either.

Billy harrumphed vaguely, casually offered a hand. Steve clasped it—since when did he dig slippery palms?—let Billy draw him up and sling an arm around him. Even with Billy’s help, the effort of walking consumed Steve completely till he sank into the Camaro.

Billy winked at him from the driver’s seat. “Don’t worry, I’ll go gentle.”

“Jesus, I’m not gonna break.”

“You wanna go home?”

Yeah, I totally should. “No fucking way. Anywhere but this dump.”

With minimal wheelspin, Billy tore from the school grounds. He didn’t play loud music. They didn’t talk much either. Seemed Billy did occasionally shut up. Only Steve fizzing nerves—WTF AM I DOING?—kept him awake until Billy slammed to a halt.

Steve blinked. “Where are we?”

“One of the few places in this shithole that’s not a shithole.” Billy hurried around and helped Steve from the car.

“I’m not a fucking princess,” Steve bitched.

“Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

“Screw you.” Steve’s glare melted into a laugh that he almost felt.

They’d arrived somewhere in the hills, which smelled of spring grasses. Steve slipped from Billy’s warm grasp—not without a dumbass pang—lay flat on the soft turf. Beyond the trickle of a stream, it was so quiet, he dozed almost instantly.

Then, through the blur of his lashes, he spotted Billy stripping his shorts. Christ, that ass!

Billy headed for the stream. His smirk was as mind-blowing as his body. “I skipped showers.”

“Fucking show-boater.” Steve snickered.

He watched Billy wade thigh deep, splash sparkling droplets over that lick-able, lithely muscled torso. He wished he could watch this a billion times over, ached to join Billy, then his eyelids grew too heavy, his fatigue winning, and… Shit!

Deep inside, something snapped. He slung an arm across his face and cried, drifted, then cried again, shamelessly sniffling. A brush against his arm stirred him. Billy lay stretched beside him, towel around his waist, chin rested on a fist.

“Tears are cathartic, huh?”

Steve rolled to full-on sneer at Billy. Ended up fixed on Billy’s lush mouth, fretting his own lower lip. “Quit mocking me.”

“I’m not. Tears help. Apart from when they’re too damn painful. You don’t have to say which those are.”

Billy reached out, as if to push hair from Steve’s damp eyes, then hesitated. Steve grabbed Billy’s fingers, like he’d grabbed for his shorts. He barely breathed. He clasped Billy’s stream-chilled knuckles to his own burning face, like his life depended on it.

“Meant what I said about missing you,” murmured Billy, as Steve drowned in those adoring eyes. “None of those dicks are half-decent rivals. It sucks we never got a chance to work through that tension and…"

This is a dream, right?

Billy’s fingers slid up through Steve’s hair, gently drawing him closer, and they tumbled into a kiss.

#harringrovemicrofic3 #harringrove microfic #harringrovemicrofic #harringrove #harringrove ficlet #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington whump #steve harrington hc #steve harrington #billy hargrove #billy x steve #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #i can't believe there's not a tag for bitchy steve harrington #no upside down au

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vettelsvee · 1 day

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Girl istg you're writing is beautiful LITERALLY. I used to read your wattpad stories with the help of Google translation (not the most accurate translator for Spanish to English but it worked to the length that I could actually understand) Now seeing you on Tumblr is just a joy and it's so easy for me to read your work. You're so talented and inspiring. And I hope that you're more active here rather than on wattpad. Seeing you struggle was so hard on the wattpad platform but, I genuinely hope you enjoy your time here. Much love 🤍

tbh with you all i started crying as soon as i read this message for the first time and i'm still speechless and, for the first time in a long time, i feel valued.

the fact that not only someone takes their time to read what i write, that might not be great, but also takes their time TO TRANSLATE IT TO ANOTHER LANGUAGE is just insane and i take it as a huge compliment.

this is the first time in quite a while now that i feel valued. for a minute i feel good enough, and i haven't had that feeling for so long. that's actually why i've been thinking for quite a while now about giving up on writing. having no support and 0 engagement on wattpad is insane. i've been tending to compare myself to other writers on that orange app because while i see your my being there, with no support, i see other writers growing, getting too many reads and vote in such a little amount of time.

i know they're just stupid fanfics about f1 drivers, but it's my time, my effort, something that has become my comfort zone when my life became a mess and has helped me more than you'd think. it's hours of not just writing, but also thinking good ideas that might be different and try to catch people's attention. it's editing, trying to promote your stories on tiktok and trying to make your best, all of that while i study a university degree.

it might be stupid but as i am writing this i'm still crying because, again, i feel good enough. i'm so happy i joined tumblr community, but i'm even more happy that most of you like my writing!

i hope to become your friendly neighborhood source of sebastian vettel fics, as well as not just a ""writer"", but also a friend :)

#vee answers #formula 1 #sebastian vettel #f1 #formula one #sv5 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel fanfic #vettel #sebastian vettel one shot #I'm literally crying pls it's 1am in spain

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writeouswriter · 1 year

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My followers: And is this “writing” you’ve been “working on” in the room with us right now?

#writing #writeblr #writer things #writing humour #textpost #writing humor #relatable #funny #I genuinely am writing for the first time in a long while #but it’s uh it’s for an angst fanfic for a fandom one wouldn’t expect fic for necessarily #and I’m embarrassed but I’m not because it’s good but you’re never seeing it it’s between me and my ao3 when I finally do finish it #it’s at 6000 words but fr that’s the most I’ve written on a single thing in a long time and it’s still going!#last time I wrote/finished anything in forever was also for this fandom back in November <3 nature is healing #it’s slow going but I’m hoping to finish it before June 😭

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tianhai03 · 2 years

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hey everyone. im not here to post art right now, i just have something on my mind that i kinda wanna ramble about, which i’ll put under a read more below bc its really long lol. i know this is kinda sudden but i promise its nothing serious. stick around if you’re somehow interested in listening to my ramblings, if not then thank you for reading this anyway, and thanks for all your continuous support :)

i cant remember the reason why anymore, but a couple minutes ago i felt like going through all the blogs ive followed on here. i only follow like 276 blogs if i remember correctly, it’s not much considering how i’ve been here since 2015. i probably felt like looking through it because i was reminded of an artist i follow here and i wanted to see if they’ve updated anything, i have no clue lol.

anyways i looked through the list, and i found a lot of artists ive followed since my early days in 2015, when i first started posting art. some i still remember fondly, some i have vague memories of, and others... i just dont recognize anymore. the only thing im sure of is that they were all artists i looked up to very much, artists who have also definitely motivated me to keep drawing just so i can be as good as them someday. im confident enough to say that ive gotten close to a lot of their levels already, and i am now very comfortable with drawing in a style that is uniquely my own. i have all these artists to thank for that.

but... another thing ive also realized is, most of them arent posting anymore. some have already stopped before i myself stopped tumblr briefly in around 2019, but a lot of them stopped at that exact same year. it makes me kinda sad, i remember looking forward to these artists’ drawings often, but a lot of them just kinda dipped out of existence 3 years ago, without other social medias that i can check to make sure theyre still around. it made me think about how hellish every year has been starting from 2019, it mightve only been 3 years but it sure felt like its been a decade. all i can do right now is hope that they’re still okay, somewhere in the world, still safe and still doing whatever they love.

and on the same note, i hope every single person who is still following me, who still constantly come up to this crumbling website, maybe even look forward to me posting my art; i hope you guys are doing well too. i know there are a lot of people who were from my old 2018 dmc days (since i came back to the fandom just half a year ago and a lot of people started checking up on me again), some of you guys were probably even from my earliest 2016 undertale days; whether you followed me 6 years ago or just today, i want to thank you guys, from the bottom of my heart, for always giving me kind support on the things i do. i am not joking when i said i wont be here right now if it werent for you guys. thank you so, so much.

#guess i just felt like getting sappy today.#im sorry if this makes anyone anxious; i promise i am totally okay and nothing bad is happening to me #it's just... sometimes you look back on your life to remember the things you've done that led to the life you have today #ive been doing that a lot lately. and i just wanted to talk about what ive thought about #i actually feel a lot better thinking about things like this. it reminds me of the reason why i started drawing in the first place #with how things have been lately especially with my own uni life; it gets so frustrating its very easy to forget why i liked drawing so much #but im not gonna forget about it now; even if i stop drawing someday i'll forever hold on to these memories #i probably sound like a broken record now but; genuinely; thanks for everything i really do appreciate it #allyrambles #long post #if youve read till here #through this long ass post ive been writing for over 30 minutes now #do me a favour and talk to a long time friend you have that you havent talked to in a while #yknow the ones. you were super close but then you just slowly stopped talking to each other? even though nothing bad happened?#do me a favour and just shoot them a message. a short one will do #even a little 'hey we havent talked in a while; just wanted to check up on you and make sure youre still okay' is enough #times are tough right now. it has been for the past 2 years for everyone #if you can do it; im sure it will brighten someone's day up; to know that theres someone out there who still cares #someone will appreciate the kindness #im gonna go now. this post has gotten way longer than i expected and its almost time for bed #i hope everyone has a decent day :) thanks again for reading #hopefully i dont regret this someday lol

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magicalmanhattanproject · 3 months

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man im just like. thinking about egg signs and how they've evolved over the course of the qsmp and how the qsmp has evolved over the course of the qsmp and just feeling so much love and affection for every part of the project. i dont have any grand overarching point with this just. like. here's a history of egg comms bc of the kind of person that i am

so wayyyy back ten months ago now at the start of the short and sweet egg event that was planned to last maybe a month at most, the eggs had their own custom, decorated signs!

[ID: Leo with a pink sign with an egg on the bottom corner that reads "hello" in all caps. Her nametag reads Leonardo. End ID]

They were extremely simple, single word signs. There was hello, hola, story, feed, sleep, and maybe one or two more and each was its own separate sign. The eggs could only communicate the most basic needs in words and everything else was through minecraft body language or just hoping their parents guessed right.

But obviously, there was a lot more that parents wanted to hear from their children. I'm not sure who was actually first, but the earliest departure from this system I know about is BadBoyHalo giving Dapper a simple oak sign so he could name his pet slime. (Screenshot from @/lxrd-ren)

[ID: Dapper wearing a diver's helmet standing next to a tiny slime in a boat with an oak sign reading "Bouncy (slmecicle but better)" End ID]

Parents quickly realized how much more convenient this was and pretty soon every single egg had stacks of signs to communicate with.

The next innovation came from Vegetta, who was the resident mod knower at the time. He knew about colored canvas signs and gave Leo signs in her favorite color purple because he loved her and gave her everything she wanted.

[ID: Leo's bed in her room under some Fooligetta fanart with a purple sign reading "<3" End ID]

Colored signs obviously had a lot of advantages. Being able to tell at a glance which egg placed which sign was a huge step forward in eggs being able to have long, complicated conversations as well as leaving obvious marks of their personality everywhere they went. It took a little while for them to be standard for every egg though. Bobby never stopped using oak signs even after Richas and Pomme both showed up with colored signs.

[ID: Two signs reading from right to left a red Pomme sign reading "we already started working on a guillotine factory" and a dark grey Dapper sign reading "thats the most french u have said so far pomme" End ID]

And this was the system for a while! And it worked pretty well for most people! The biggest struggle most people had was egg signs not being translated, but streamers adjusted to that by reading signs out loud so the translators would pick up on them. This also lead to adorable and fascinating dynamics like Richas swearing in signs he wrote for Bad and then warning Bad not to read them out. There was also the genuinely phenomenal development of Leolingo where Leo writes only in Spanish to Foolish because it's easier for her to write and he takes his time to puzzle his way through it and learn in a way that's super cool to watch someone else do onscreen.

Then Tubbo joined the server. And Tubbo himself had no problems at all with the system, but he is dyslexic and he casually mentioned offhand that it was getting kind of annoying to read signs after a ten hour long stream and the admin team Fucking Cooked.

Within 24 hours, they had TTS working on the signs. Within 48 hours, it was working on books too. I can't remember how long it took to get translation working, but it was definitely under a week.

And this opened up a whole new world of possibilities for the entire QSMP. The admin team has been on top of capitalizing on it for story purposes, but also just allowing the egg admins to speak in their native languages to everyone whenever they want has been so enriching for everyone involved. Leolingo is awesome but Foolish has been learning Spanish insanely fast and his process is a lot slower and more frustrating than most people can do in front of an audience of thousands of people without feeling discouraged. That's also one language. We've had everything from Foolish being able to check his work a bit more faster to Phil insisting on his eggs taking a day to speak to him in their native languages to Ramón writing a book for Fit in Cantonese, a language we haven't even seen on the server in any other context!

And all of it is fully understood and fully communicated! Sometimes the translators mess up but no one expects them to be perfect and people ask for clarification if the translator says something that doesn't sound right. It's not only a massive step forward in communication technology, but it's a great demonstration of how to use it and when you can and can't rely on it.

And finally, the most recent innovation! One of BBH's viewers sent him a dono saying they had trouble reading certain signs because they were too low-contrast. Bad, Richas, and Pomme just. Took it upon themselves to fix the problem right there and then. Based on One (1) bringing up their own personal struggle, those three came up with new signs that innovate tremendously on the originals.

[ID: Two separate images of the before and after. The first is the egg signs in their original colors with the corresponding egg's name written on them to demonstrate the font color and the second is in the new, higher contrast colors with the same text. The new signs also have custom decorations for each egg. The second picture also has two signs from Pomme in all caps that read "Send all the love to Richas he spent a whole night making this he's the best <3" End ID]

There are three main innovations visible in the above pictures

1: Obviously, the colors are higher contrast. The signs with white text have darker colors and the signs with black text have lighter colors.

2: The colors themselves are lower saturation. Richas said this made it easier for him personally to read them so he corrected that way, but that's open to change if it causes difficulties for more people than it helps

3: The decorations are for accessibility reasons! People with various different forms of colorblindness will find different sets of colors easier or harder to distinguish, but any of them can look at the decorations and use them to identify whose sign is whose instead.

But! Those innovations are not why I made this post! It's these ones!

[ID: The backs of the new signs when placed on the ground. Most visible are Chayanne's with vines and a hardcore heart, Sunny's with shining sunglasses, and Pomme's with an apple and the Eiffel Tower. End ID]

Richas added distinguishing marks to the backs of the signs too! This is something that Bad brought up specifically as something he wanted because it was hard for him to tell who was talking when he was using TTS from behind signs and couldn't see the colors at all.

We went from custom egg signs (a hotbar or so of words and nothing else to communicate with) through a long journey of expanding communication and expanding who we're bringing along on the communication and how easily they can join in and we've circled all the way back around to custom egg signs (they can say anything they want in any language they want and anyone will know it's them saying it from any angle)

and i guess i have enough feelings abotu that to write All This about it

#sorrelposting #qsmp

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daegall · 4 months

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☆ macrocosm

➷ in which Luke would send you the sun and every asteroid, and you'd send him the moon and the stars.

pairing: Luke Castellan x daughter of Apollo!reader

genre: hurt comfort, fluff, slight angst, established relationship!AU

warnings: one tiny injury, some cheesiness, and um issues with parents? also reader is implied to be female!!

word count: 1.2k words

a/n: hi all!!! my first time (and probably last LOL) time writing anything pjo :000 unless my brainrot gets bigger, i think this is the only thing i will only release, I hope you all enjoy and I'm sorry if I made any mistakes!! dont hesitate to tell me if i did or if i forgot to add a warning ^^ have a great day and merry late christmas!!!

Luke Castellan is a great source of your happiness.

Whether it be bringing you a small snack while you work endlessly in the infirmary, or sitting there with you, waiting for you to finally be free of work to finally have a chat with you, with the biggest smile on his lips.

Or it could be from how he always strives to protect you, jumping right in the middle of an attack during capture the flag.

"I can handle myself, Luke." You'd tell him.

He believes you. Every bit of his being believes you. You're amazing with a sword, even more with a bow. Yet something in him pushes him to shield you from any form of danger.

Even when you feel the need to be annoyed at him, in the slightest. His sheepish, almost apologetic smile he gives you pulls at your heartstrings, like a magnet. To be honest, you'd surrender your entire being for him, you'd send him the moon and the stars if he asked you to. You just love him too much.

However, Luke Castellan is also sometimes (never) a pain in your ass.

Such as now, as he once again, shoots you a sheepish smile as he shows up at the entrance of the infirmary.

"What are you doing here?" You question him instantly. Although you have a rough scrunch in your eyebrows, and your arms are crossed, Luke knows you like the back of his hand.

The way your fingers fiddle lightly with the loose string of your orange T-shirt shows how you're genuinely worried, and there's just the slightest curl at your lips that he catches.

Luke pouts at you. You ought to punch him at how cute he looks.

"What? Am I not allowed to visit my favorite girl?"

You scoff, but don't distance yourself from him when he walks forward to wrap his arms around your waist. "Not when I'm pretty sure you have counselor duties,"

Warmth spreads through you, a familiar, nostalgic one. Such as a warm home, or a campfire, it ripples through your soul and body, as Luke's fingertips caress you gently.

"I got hurt," He replies simply.

As expected, his words cause you to pull away almost immediately, your hands cupping around his cheeks softly, as you tilt his head to check every surface of his skin.

Although Luke hates making you worry, he adores the way you care for him.

With a sly smirk, Luke raises his index finger slowly, watching as your eyes trail from his own, to his hand, and finally, the small cut on his finger.

In an instant, you push Luke away playfully, huffing in relief. "You idiot! I thought you were hurt!"

"But you don't understand," He sighs dramatically. Your lips curl up from his overexaggerated sad expression, holding a hand to his heart. "how much my heart hurts when I'm away from you,"

With a roll of your eyes, you step away from your boyfriend, walking to the other side of the infirmary to grab a bandaid. Luke follows you, as if a magnet, watching and admiring your every move.

He watches as you unwrap the bandaid, adores you as you wrap it around his finger carefully, and if he could, he would praise you as you place a small kiss on top of it. Praise you more than he's ever praised to his father, or any other god.

"Better?"

And when he looks in your eyes, he sees his whole universe. Doesn't matter if he's a human, or half god, or if the whole mystical world existed in the universe. As long as it had you, he knew he'd yearn for it for eternity.

And suddenly, there's a flicker. Luke doesn't know how he notices it, not when it's there for only the slightest moment, but he doesn't care.

You're sad.

Another great thing about your great boyfriend, he loves to comfort you.

His fingers caress lightly at the skin of your cheek, frowning worriedly. "Are you okay?"

You're surprised at his attention to the smallest details, confusion evident on your face. "How did you—"

"—I just know, baby," He chuckles. "now tell me, are you okay?"

You can't explain it. But you try, for Luke. You'd do anything for him.

"My dad," You start. This time, it's Luke's heartstrings that are pulled dangerously at. He knows how complicated your relationship with your dad is—hell, everyone at camp has a complicated relationship with their God parent!

Luke's thumb strokes your cheek dearly, urging you to continue.

"He... visited my sibling? I guess? I mean, not directly but, yeah,"

You are a person who's strong, who's always put together, even more so when you have to take care of people every day. Seeing you so... hurt, so vulnerable and weak, Luke wants to curse at Apollo himself, but knows better. He's not worth it. You, however, Luke will stay and wait forever for.

"He visited my brother in a dream. They had a whole conversation, caught up, and I'm happy for him, I am! I just—" You can't keep your lip from wobbling, your heart shaking just at the thought of what your brother had told the whole cabin just this morning.

They were all happy, so were you, asking him countless questions and eager to know how their father is doing, but you can't help but feel jealous.

Luke nods in understanding as you tell him this.

"I mean, he visits my brother, has a whole conversation with him all night in his dream... and he can barely spare a single word for me? What, not even a sign the he cares, that he's here?"

And when tears cascade down your cheek, Luke wants to destroy Olympus with his own bare hands. Maybe for another day, for now, he'll coo and bring you into his embrace, stroking at your back affectionately.

"It's okay baby, it's just me. Let it all out,"

Pent up stress from the week, added with your jealousy and confusion results in a full sob into your lover's shoulder, as he mumbles sweet nothings into your ear.

"I've got you, and I'm not going anywhere."

Your soul cleanses from the hatred and envy, replaced with the love and care that Luke provides, feeling safety and solace in his embrace alone.

"I'm sorry for burdening you like this,"

Luke's heart nearly physically cracks at your words, even more at your defeated eyes peering up at him.

He shakes his head, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. "Don't be sorry, baby," He mumbles, before pressing another kiss to your cheeks, pecking away your tears. "you could never burden me."

Finally, immense joy and love resonates through you, as it radiates off Luke and onto you, like the sun shines its rays onto earth, you feel complete with him.

"Thank you," You breathe out, staring into Luke's eyes with the most gratitude and love. And once again, he sees those eyes. The eyes that hold his universe, the eyes he'd yearn for forever. And when he leans down to connect your lips in a soft, loving kiss, he knows he will yearn them forever.

You'd send the moon and all the stars his way.

Luke would go to hell and back for you, he'd destroy Olympus for you. He'd be your sun and every asteroid, and you his moon and stars. Together, you'd have your own little universe, just for the two of you. Doesn't matter if you're human, or demigod, as long as he has you, and you have him, it'll forever be complete.

#luke castellan imagines #pjo series #luke castellan #luke pjo #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #luke pjo x reader #pjo x reader #pjo tv show #percy jackson x reader #luke castellan fluff

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dapper-shipping-forever · 1 year

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Technically all my B.SD s/is are shipped with all my f/os from that series but I am maybe particularly obsessed with my mafia ! S/i and Dazai

They were once inseparably close and trusted each other more than anything, sometimes more than they trusted themselves. They loved each other quietly, a love that was something unformed but had such potential to take shape into romance. Then their group was destroyed. Dazai left her alone without any word of farewell or see you again, and she never quiet closed that gaping scar he left. She's a mess, though she eventually makes a new friend in chuuya and gets better, anyone can see she's not the same after her three closest friends all left; one torn away, one telling her directly to her to never contact him, and one simply slipping into the night. Her ability to trust and express herself was tainted. She embraced the shadows she controlled and slipped into them. Dazai never forgot her, either. He's an expert with masks, but as he sought to change himself and erase who he was before, he could never forget the girl he'd abandoned. And he knew he'd not just left her, but abandoned her, but he hadn't known what else to do. She couldn't follow him, and he couldn't face her. Feelings fester and twist for them both. Then it's years before they see each other again, at the meeting between the port mafia and the armed detective agency. She looks at him with such a chill. It's all he can do to look at her with his usual care free attitude, but there's an undeniable hardening in his eyes. When they finally talk alone after, years of something that's unspoken hangs heavy above them. When she turns away to leave emotion takes him and its the first time in the series he's looked entirely vulnerable as he calls out to her to wait and reaches for her wrist, but she literally vanishes back into the shadows just before he's able to grasp her hand. Their love for l each other stays unspoken and full of tension and twisting, quietly roiling, not unlike a dark sea, emotions, just ready to be admitted. It takes a long time for them to rebuild a sliver of what they'd had before, but it's not entirely the l same. It's something somewhat similar, but it's new. And as they both confront each other and themselves to grow and change, it becomes much more.

#I am dramatic lol #I wrote a thing a while ago about their first time speaking again #also I like to parallel him not reaching her hand after their first time seeing each other again #to something a lot later after theyve finally mellowed out and can speak somewhat normally with each other again #she comes to his house to talk #and they have a long #quiet concersation #about each other #and their feelings on what theyve both done to the other #she goes to leave after it #and he reaches and this time grabs her wrist #and he vows then and there that when theyre no longer on opposing sides that he wants to never be without her again and asks her to stay at #his side #and she agrees #and she leaves into shadows after he realeses her #but he has the most genuine soft smile now #anyway I love them they're fucking wack and one of my most complicated ships #dapper inserts: mafia #I want to write that other scene I described also

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heart-of-the-morningstar · 3 months

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Alr hear me out, the service top lucifer with a very insecure reading. (Fem or GN) like he has to coax the reader to like open up (God damn I'm blushing thinking abt it-). Maybe even having to like talk them into even taking thier clothes off. Just a little idea stuck in my head.

Thank you very muchly.

Ooooooohh you’re giving me IDEAS (tbh I’d be the same boat)

~~~~

✨Opening Up✨

Lucifer x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, nipple play, pet names, oral (m & f receiving), p in v, service top!Lucifer

It has become evident that I am unable to write anything concise 😅

I’M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I MEANT TO POST THIS DAYS AGO 😭😭

Tag list: @trashbin-nie

@yellowsubiesdance

@j-jinxee

@stevensdickrider

@airwolf92

@mrssabinecallas

@myhornybrainonlyknowsthis

@bee-sinner

@thesoccerenthusiast

@katshyperfixations

@logybearsblog

@bigfatbimbo

You sat upright on Lucifer’s king sized bed, the King of Hell straddling your lap. You don't know how you even ended up in this position, not on this bed necessarily, but how you ended up as Lucifer's beloved. You believed in your heart that you did not deserve him, but time and time again Lucifer has showered you with praise and adoration like no one ever had before. He was perfect. And you were...you. It didn't make sense.

Regardless, that didn't stop him from holding your face tenderly in his hands while he kissed you with a fiery passion. You were self conscious about being so vocal around him during intimacy, but he made it his mission to elicit as many moans and whines from you as possible. Slowly, he reached down to the hem of your sleep shirt, grabbing a fistful of fabric. Your eyes popped open, your mind racing. You pulled away from his lips and went to grab his wrist that held your clothing.

"I-I'm sorry, love," he apologized, releasing your shirt immediately. You sighed and let go of the grip you had on his hand. "I didn't mean to scare you, I should have asked. Please forgive me."

"No, no," you breathed, "it's alright. I'm not upset, I just panicked. I'm sorry."

Lucifer pressed his lips to your forehead and planted a small kiss. "Please don't ever think you need to apologize to me for how you feel, sweetheart."

"O-Ok," you stuttered.

"Do you want to stop?," Lucifer asked. You could hear the genuine concern in his voice. Hard as it was to believe, he cared about you more than anything.

You shook your head. "No."

"You're sure?," Lucifer questioned further, "because if you're uncomfortable, we can-"

You cut him of mid-sentence with a quick peck to his lips. He smiled bashfully, a cute blush spreading across his face. "Believe me, Luci, I want this. I mean I really want this, but..." you found it difficult to articulate what you wanted to say.

"Well, if that's the case darling, what if I go first then?," Lucifer proposed. You cocked your head, unsure of what he was talking about. He reached up and began to unbutton his shirt, starting from the top and working his way down. Oh...OH.

Your face instantly feels hotter and your breathing becomes staggered. You tried to say something, but the words caught in your throat. Your mouth had never felt drier. He finally reached the last button of his shirt and you finally see some of his chest. You could almost feel your brain short circuiting.

"Do you wanna do the honors, my dear?," he asked playfully. You gulped as your hands reached towards his shoulders. Gingerly, you slid his sleeves down each arm, slowly revealing more and more skin to you. Once his shirt was completely removed, you couldn’t help but stare. His chest was so smooth and toned, almost like it had been sculpted. “Like what you see?” Lucifer questioned coyly, noticing your unwavering expression of awe.

"W-Well that's hardly fair," you whispered, finally finding your voice, "you're an actual angel. Of course you're going to be gorgeous, I-" you slapped your hand over your mouth once you realized what you had said. "Please pretend you didn't hear that!," you begged through your hand.

Lucifer's face was flushed pink, he could help but smile. He chuckled as he went to remove your hand from your face. "Is that what you really think about me, sweetheart? I'm truly flattered to hear that coming from someone as exquisite as you."

"You...You really think..." you started to say but couldn't finish. Tears began to well up in your eyes, you tried to rub them away before Lucifer could see but it was too late. Lucifer cupped your face and ran his thumbs under your eyes to clear away the tears that had fallen. Your breath hitched, you tried to take in deep heavy breaths so you wouldn't start sobbing.

“Hey, hey, hey, shhhhh,” he spoke with a soothing tone. He removed himself from your lap and sat down next to you, embracing you in his arms. “It’s okay, angel, it’s ok. I upset you and I’m sorry, I never want to be the reason you cry.” He rested his head on top of yours while you clung to his chest. The scent of him hit your nostrils, it was like breathing in a warm spring day. Purely intoxicating. It calmed you down, you started to breathe normally again. You felt safe in his arms, you could have stayed there for the rest of your life.

You wrapped your arms around his torso, your tears finally drying. “Thank you, Lucifer,” you murmured. He gave you a tight squeeze before you lifted yourself back up, sitting at his hip and leaving your head on his shoulder. “You weren’t the reason I was sad, you know? You never have been.”

Lucifer turned his head to you, “Really? Then why-?”

“Because I’m afraid,” you quickly responded. “I’m afraid that I’m not good enough for you. That I never will be. You’re the all mighty Lucifer, King of Hell. You have so much strength and power and respect. And I’m…I’m just me.” You sighed and pulled your legs up to your chest to rest your head on your knees. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Darling?,” Lucifer spoke at last. He brought himself in front of you on all fours and placed his hand under your chin, forcing you to look at him in his scarlet eyes. “ “Just you” is perfect. You don’t need to be anything but yourself! I understand what you’re feeling, and it’s okay to express that. But please know that I love you just the way you are. You are my true strength.”

You chuckled softly, leaning into his hand that was now pressed against your cheek. You took his words to heart; he loved you. He loved you so much. You had to show him that you felt the same way. You drew in a few quick and deep breaths before reaching for the hem of your sleep shirt.

“Wait, wait, what are you-” Lucifer tried to say, but you were too fast. Your shirt disappeared from your body and was tossed across the room. Silence filled the space, the only thing you could hear was your heart threatening to burst through your chest.

It was at that moment you noticed you couldn’t see Lucifer’s face. His hands had flown up to block his view of you.

“Lucifer?” you called to him.

“Y-You didn’t have to do that, love,” he stuttered. “I never wanted you to feel that you had to-”

“Please look at me, Luci,” you pleaded. “I love you. And I trust you. Let me show you. Please.”

You saw Lucifer’s hands slowly fall away from his hands, his eyes still screwed shut. “Are you sure?” he asked softly.

You leaned in to plant a kiss on his soft lip. Lucifer’s eyes shot open in surprise, you pulled away before he had a chance to react. Blood rushed to your cheeks when you saw him staring at you. Your first instinct was to cover yourself and shy away, but you pushed those feelings deep down. You were going to be vulnerable, you needed to be brave. Not just for him, but for yourself. You gripped the bed sheets so hard that you felt your nails digging into your skin through the silk.

After what seemed like an eternity, Lucifer had snapped out of his trance. He started to crawl towards you on his hands and knees, only stopping when his lips were inches away from your own. You felt his hot breath on you, you were finding it more and more difficult to keep your composure.

“You…are breathtaking,” he cooed, crashing his lips into yours hungrily. His tongue begged for entrance to your mouth, and you happily allowed it. You felt yourself slowly drifting down onto your back as you and Lucifer desperately devoured each other. He pulled away from your lips, trying to catch his breath, but you noticed he wasn’t looking into your eyes. His attention had drifted a little further down. He swallowed hard.

“May I?,” Lucifer asked breathlessly. Your face felt extremely hot and you couldn’t find the power to speak, so instead you nodded your head vigorously. He gave you a cheeky grin before lowering his mouth down onto one of your nipples. The noise you made sounded more high pitched than you meant it, but God, did it feel amazing! His tongue worked one nipple as his hand played with the other. You loved the sensation of him sucking and licking at your sensitive skin, the tiny bites from his teeth driving you insane. He rolled your other nipple between his two fingers, the pinches he gave sent your brain into overdrive. You never knew how sensitive you were, but Lucifer was more than happy to service you.

All of a sudden you noticed a different sensation, you felt something press against your inner thigh, dangerously close to your clothed pussy. It took your brain a few seconds to realize what was happening.

“Uhh, Lucifer, a-are you…”, you mumbled. Lucifer looked up from your chest with a puzzled face. “I can feel umm, I-I can feel your uhh…”, you didn’t know why you couldn’t say it. Maybe you were too embarrassed, which seemed silly considering what position you found yourself in. You pointed down towards your pants where Lucifer was wedged.

“Oh…OH,” Lucifer exclaimed pushing himself from you and onto his knees. “Oh my gosh, I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you could uhh, feel that…please forgive me!”

Seeing him so flustered somehow calmed some of the nerves you had before. It was cute, really. Demon overlord Lucifer getting embarrassed about unintentionally pushing his hard on against your thigh. You let out a small giggle.

"It's alright, Luci," you chuckled. "I'm flattered, really!"

Lucifer smiled, placing his hand behind him to rub the back of his neck. "I'm still sorry about that, love. I'm a little embarrassed."

“Well,” you breathed, “I guess it’s only fair that I embarrass myself too then, right?” Without warning, you grabbed the waistband of your pants and ripped them off along with your panties in one fell swoop. You laid naked in front of Lucifer, whose whole face had turned a shade of red you’ve never seen before.

“Ffffuck,” was all Lucifer could muster. You watched his Adam’s apple rise and fall, attempting to regain his thoughts. Looking at you, it was plain to see how soaked you were.

“Like what you see?,” you teased. Lucifer nodded his head eagerly, still at a loss for words. You lifted your hand and curled your finger, beckoning him to you. Obediently, Lucifer crawled on the bed towards you with no reservations. “You’re not the only one that’s worked up here. Now we’re even.”

“My love, please…” Lucifer whined, “please let me taste you.”

"Don't you...wanna get more comfortable first?," you asked him, knowing the problem in his pants had probably only gotten worse for him.

"Not until I've had my fill of you, sweetheart," he smiled before forcing his head between your legs. The moan you let out was guttural, almost feral, he lapped your folds like a starving man. He took long, drawn out licks up your slit before focusing on your clit. His lips kissed and sucked on your sensitive nub, sending waves of pleasure throughout you entire body. You couldn't pull away if you tried, he had wrapped his arms under your legs so you couldn't escape his assault on your cunt.

"Sh-shit, oh-oh my God Lucifer, FUCK," you moaned. You could feel a smile form on his face as this seemed to have made him pick up the pace. You screamed from his tongue darting in and out of you, feeling so close to snapping. Your thighs started to fold in on his head and you grabbed a fistful of his hair trying to regain some assemblance of control. “Fuckfuckfuck, mmmm…gonna c-cum, aaggghh, gonnacumgonnacum!” Lucifer’s tongue relentlessly circling your clit finally caused your body to spasm, your orgasm causing you to scream out in pleasure. Lucifer didn’t stop though, he let you ride out your orgasm and hungrily devoured your release. Once you finally came down from your high, Lucifer lifted his face from between your legs and flashed you a toothy grin, seemingly quite proud of his work.

“You alright, darling?,” he asked innocently, almost pretending like he wasn’t the cause of what you had just experienced.

“Y-yeah, I’m…I’m fine,” you breathed. “Just…Jesus, that was intense! Give me a little warning before you go all in on me like that again!”

Lucifer laughed. “I’m sorry, love, I couldn’t help myself.”

You rolled your eyes at him playfully. “Oh, I’m sure you couldn’t. Now, let’s get these off you, hmm?,” you said tugging at his pants.

Lucifer stood up from the bed quickly. He undid his belt and let his pants drop to the floor. From the outlines of his briefs, you were surprised that they could contain him at all. Before he could pull at the hem, you jumped off the bed to stop him.

“Allow me,” you offered, getting on your knees in front of him. You reached up and grabbed onto his briefs, snaking them down his legs. His cock sprang free of its cage and hung in front of your face, its tip already leaking. Without thinking, your wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. Lucifer let out a moan that you’ve never heard before, filled with absolute lust and need. You took one of your hands and grabbed the base of his shaft, slowly stroking up and down while your mouth continued to work on his head. You ran small licks against the slit, tasting and lapping all of the precum that was forming. You loved the taste of him.

“Love…f-fuck,” Lucifer panted, trying to fight through his moans, “if you don’t s-stop now, I-I’m gonna cum. I wanna…wanna feel you. P-Please…”

Reluctantly, you pulled your mouth away from his cock with a *pop*, pouting slightly. Lucifer leaned down to grab your torso and tossed you onto the bed like you were made of paper mache. That angelic strength of his always caught you off guard. Lucifer crept between your legs, planting a tender kiss on your lips.

“I promise,” he whispered against your lips, “next time you can finish what you started, but right now I need you. Need to feel you.” Lucifer brought his fingers to your needy cunt, feeling the slickness of your folds. Your breath caught in your throat at the sensation. He took his other hand and lined up the tip of his cock to your entrance. “Are you ready, my angel?,” he asked softly.

You grinned and nodded your head. With that, Lucifer closed the space between you once more with a fiery kiss as his cock entered you inch by inch. Your cries mixed with his as he finally entered you completely.

“You feel…amazing, darling, fuck…” Lucifer choked out. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you murmured, “I-I’m okay. You can move.”

“Anything for you,” he smiled. Lucifer slowly began to rock his hips into you, his cock filling you up completely with each thrust. You could feel every inch of him ruining your pussy, hitting just the right spot every time. It didn’t take long for his pace to become erratic and uneven. He buried his cock deep inside you, both of your moans filling the room.

“Lu-Lucifer, o-oh shit, Lucifer, I-I’m so close,” you pleaded. “Please don’t stop, p-please don’t.”

“Cum for me, darling. Wanna feel you cum.” Lucifer groaned. He bit down on your should as he continued to pound into you, biting and sucking your tender skin. You were shaking, he was going too fast, you were coming undone.

“Cuminme…FUCKCUMINME,” you screamed and wrapped your legs around him as your orgasm flooded over you. You felt your walls pulsating around his cock, it was too much for Lucifer to handle. You heard him cry out and felt him twitch inside you, filling you up with his hot cum.

Coming down from your highs, you both laid there for a moment trying to catch your breath. You played with Lucifer’s hair as he laid across your chest, completely worn out. A minute or two passed before Lucifer sat up and pulled himself out of you. He laid down next to you, staring at your flushed face.

“Are you alright?,” he asked. “Did I hurt you at all?”

“No, you didn’t hurt me,” you smiled. “That felt…really good. Thank you, for everything.”

Lucifer hummed and leaned up to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “No, thank you, love.”

You chuckled returning the kiss. “Would…you mind if I held you, Luci?”

Lucifer’s eyes widened, but he smiled wide. “Of course not, I’d love nothing more.”

Lucifer rolled on his side, giving you the chance to push your body against his back and wrap your arms around him. You both didn’t move until the morning.

~~~~

Hope you enjoyed my second attempt at NSFW content lmaooooo

AND YEAH I MADE HIM THE LITTLE SPOON, IT’S WHAT HE WOULD WANT

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #lucifer morningstar #lucifer smut #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #writing prompt #my writing #this was meant to be a cute short thing but i can never stop myself lmao #my signature is just posting goofy faces of Lucifer to remind everyone this is who we’re thirsting over

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misslovasstuff · 5 months

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Writing prompt: Them taking about their lover

op men x fem!reader

with: Sanji, Zoro, Luffy, Buggy.

author’s note: oh to be described by hot pirates that would die for me hehe. Enjoy ~

please support me here (⁎⁍̴̛ᴗ⁍̴̛⁎)：ko-fi

Sanji:

“Ah, - he rests his elbows on the table, pupils dilated and somehow taken the form of an heart as his face rests on his palms. - she…”

The moment you are mentioned in the conversation, Sanji completely melts. His mind now travels distant lands where he imagines you and his surroundings become dust.

“She completely devastates me. - he closes his eyes and starts describing you. - Eyes that lure me in even with the shortest of glance, a smile that determines my fate, the touch of those hands that are grown among prickles of roses and yet have remained so soft that when caressing my skin so gently, I feel like I am healed from everything that has hurt me. Ah, for my love I could talk for hours. She… she is someone I thought I could ever meet. A miracle.”

Zoro

He puts his sake down for a moment, eyes lowered as he looks down whilst thinking. Suddenly he chuckles and shakes his head.

“That woman will be the death of me. - Zoro says, leaning against the chair with a sigh and a smile. - She’s an open book, easy to understand, at least for me. The way she smiles and lightens up every time she sees me… it warms my heart. I hear my name falling out her lips and my whole body just shivers from the sound of her voice. Sometimes while I’m training she’ll walk by to visit me. Those are the times I cherish a lot since we don’t get to be alone together for a long time. Small pecks she gives me during the day, notes that she sticks to my swords, lipstick marks on my clothes…- his pushes his head back, staring at the ceiling as he covers his bashful face. - What a woman she is… I can never get enough of her.”

Luffy

“Ah, she’s amazing! - his eyes shine brightly at the mention of your name. - we have known each other for a while now.”

Luffy smiles, voice deepening as his cheeks turn slightly pink.

“We met as she tried to save my life. That type of courage, I’ve seen only in a few people. - he begins explaining. - Anyone that looks at her can feel how genuine she is: her kindness… she has helped so many people and yet fails to see how she has helped me the most by opening my heart to so many new experiences. I don’t know what it is, perhaps I’m always too full when I look at her and my stomach feels heavy, my eyes get fixated on her as she watches over the horizon, the one I used to observe but now I completely ignore it, as if I’ve found something more beautiful to look forward to.”

Buggy

“Uh?? Why would you ask me about her?”- with his voice high pitched eyebrow raised, Buggy is taken a bit aback but soon calms down his protective instinct. - Well, there’s no reason for you to know but I’ll say it anyways because I’m so proud of my girl.”

He smirks, crossing his legs as he sits comfortably whilst beginning his description:

“A total babe, tall and curvy, so beautiful that my hands shake upon first touching her. - his eyes soften a bit, so does his voice. - Her laugh is the most precious thing ever in my world. She chuckles at my jokes and makes me laugh too. Not only is she fun, but my sweetheart is my biggest support. There is no one who believes in me like her. And… if I can become the man that she hopes I can be, then I could make her the happiest, like she makes me. A man like me saw her and truly believed that I had found the treasure that was meant for me and I’m willing to guard her with my life.”

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narislvr · 3 months

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domestic!ellie who finds herself being completely smitten by you during your weekly movie night. ✧.*

a short and quick one-shot ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹

Palestine resources !!

DVD's litter the mahogany coffee table in messy arrays of colors and titles as you search for a specific disc for tonight's movie night. It wasn't a movie you and ellie had watched together yet, but you knew it was somewhere in your collection as you hunched over the edge, eyeing each and every disc the two of you owned.

"does it really take this long to pick a movie, babe?" ellie would tease, clicking her tongue as she set down two of your blankets on the couch behind you before crossing her forearms over the crown of your head and resting her chin on them. a huff leaves your lips at her comment as you tilt your head upwards, her playful gaze meeting yours through your lashes and her messy bangs.

"hey, you choose the same movie every week. You have absolutely no room to talk," you quip back, a fond look in your eyes as you watch her chuckle in amusement before glancing back down and finally spotting the DVD you had been searching for. "aha! found it!" you cheer, holding the disc up for ellie to see.

"...mama-mia? babe, I swear if this is one of those musicals you like.-"

"you'll love it. promise." you interrupt, a giddy chime in your voice as you carefully shake her off and get up to insert the beloved disc into the waiting dvd player. seeing your excitement, ellie only shook her head while letting out a playful overdramatic sigh.

"atleast pick up your mess first."

──

so maybe ellie did "love" it, but not because of the plot nor the abundance of ABBA classics. Instead it was because of the way it seemed to bring you so much joy as you smiled from ear to ear and you sang along to each and every song while commenting on little parts of the movie she otherwise wouldn't have picked up on. it was endearing, and although you were generally a rather bright person, she couldn't help but admire the genuine light in your eyes as you watched the film she had learned was your favorite.

her sketchbook was on her lap, her gaze flickering from you down to the page every so often as she scribbled down little doodles of you singing or mimicking certain actions from the characters on screen. you were too busy attempting to harmonize with "donna and the dynamites" to super trooper, that you didn't notice the way her attention was solely on you as she drew a portrait of your side profile. the light from the screen illuminated your features, accentuating the curves and edges of your face with a soft glow that she swore made you look almost ethereal. in the moment you were her muse, regardless of whether your voice cracked or went off key, and all she wanted to do was capture this moment and live in it forever.

"you're not paying attention, els." she hears you whine as your attention finally shifts back to ellie who was still sketching away in her sketchbook.

"Of course I am," she responds, looking up at the screen for a second and realizing she didn't actually know what was going on as she watched sophie help one of the three men crawl out of under a table. you raise a brow at her and she gives you a sheepish smile in return as she puts her sketchbook to the side and signals for you to lean closer to her to which you happily ablige.

"doesn't seem like it," you hum, sneaking a glance at the open book at ellies side before shifting slightly to rest your head against her chest. her arm wraps around your waist, her fingers gently resting on your stomach as she presses a kiss to your forehead.

"but I am, promise." she responds, deciding to finally pay attention to the film despite her fingers itching to finish her drawing. It was a habit she had picked up during her time with Joel, always sketching little pictures of things she found interesting in the films and writing down quotes she would later recite to the older man whenever there was a chance to reference them. she found herself doing that less nowadays but it was still something she enjoyed doing, especially in special situations like these where it was you she was drawing instead.

as the movie neared it's end, she found that maybe she could appreciate the plot even if it was rather odd in her opinion. your singing had quieted down to small hums as you slowly began to drift off against ellie's chest, the rise and fall of her chest lulling you into a sense of comfort despite your attempts to stay awake until the end of the movie. she would definitely tease you about it tomorrow morning, especially after all the times you swore you'd stay up despite your track record of falling asleep. It was cute, a sweet moment she wouldn't replace with anything in the world.

she brushes a stray strand of hair from your face, a fond look in her eyes at her feather light touch before she carefully reaches for her sketchbook with the hand that wasn't holding you to her.

she flips it open to the page she had been drawing on before scribbling something down in messy handwriting under your portrait.

"Mamma mia, here I go again ,, My, my, how can I resist you?"

it was dumb, and the song didn't necessarily fit the situation, but she knew you'd get a kick out of it the day she'd finally show you the sketchbook filled with pictures of you.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #oneshot #the last of us fluff #the last of us #mama mia is one of my favorite musicals #so its a little self indulgent #not proofread </3

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lovincherries · 5 months

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Corio's Pawn

a/n: first of all, I want to say hi! I know it's been a really long time since i've written anything and i wanted to say thank you for your patience. 2023 has easily been the hardest year of my life, and i am so grateful for all your messages and support. it has truly meant the world to me. hopefully you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. i love you guys! (p.s it's almost been a year since i have written anything, of course snow brought me out of my slump)

NOT PROOF READ! I AM LAZY

word count: 3,735

warnings: taking of virginity, dub con, breeding kink, just smut! corio being corio (bad), reader is curvy (idk actually, i think i only mention it once, but you could really skim those parts. it isn't central to the storyline tbh)

You had loved Corio long before he knew you existed. To you, he was everything you wanted, everything that you desired, everything that you longed for. To him, you were a shy girl, kind, sweet, but shy and rather unnoticeable, or you were unnoticeable. You don't know what did it, neither did he really. He didn't know if it was the harshness of district 12, or the uncertainty (and paranoia) that Lucy gray caused him that made him long for you when he arrived home, or if it were the fact that he really looked at you for the first time. You had the softness that he desired, and the look in your eyes that you would give up everything for him if he said the word. He desired that kind of relationship, one where he held the power and none of the vulnerability. With you, he had nothing to lose. There was no game you were playing, your eyes and quiet smiles held everything he needed to know.

Before he left for District 12, and before the 10th games, Corio considered love a waste of time and resources. After, he considered it a betting game that both sides were bound to lose. While he considered love a waste of time, his desires and needs were still prevalent and crowding his head with thoughts where plans and ideas should be. That's when you fell into his lap, his little rose. It didn't take him long to realize the hold that he had over you, and it took him even less time to put his charm to use.

He knew what you were, a good girl who came from good parents that raised her right. And while the whole world had long since passed the concept of purity, he knew it was something that your parents had taught to you. His little white rose. Except, he didn't want to keep you that way. He didn't have to ask if you were pure, it was something he could almost smell. Your innocence seeped out of your pores like a perfume he couldn't get enough of. Before, he never noticed you, now you were all he desired. He wanted to know all your curves and edges, wanted to fulfill your desires, he wanted to take you. Most of all, he desired to see your cheeks red, your eyes dark with desire, and his cum filling you up.

You and Corio had been seeing each other for a few months, and while you tried to pretend like it wasn't the most exciting thing to ever happen to you, it was. He was all you could think about, all you could talk about with your parents, and he was the only person you wanted to see. You were oblivious to his charm, blinded by everything that he promised to you. You were funnier and more interesting than he originally gave you credit for, he could actually relax around you and laugh, but he would never turn off the person he presented to be. He couldn't wait for much longer though, his composure was slipping, and all he could think about was being wrapped into your legs and diving into you. Your kisses were sweet and genuine, you kissed him with love, but he wanted something darker. He needed it. It was something you didn't intend to give to him though, not that you really knew what you were giving or not.

Your parents had long taught you that certain things were for married couples, after all, if you weren't pure you weren't going to be any good to them to marry off. Even to them you were a pawn, a piece that only furthered their own further interests and success. That being the reason why you were probably oblivious to the games Corio was playing with you. And you didn't know it, but tonight was the night Corio was going to win a game that you didn't know you were playing.

You were getting ready for bed, your light blue light gown skimmed mid-thigh as you sat down at your vanity brushing through your long hair. You examined your features as you did, humming a song that had been stuck in your head all day. You heard a soft knock at your window, turning your head to look for what made the sound, but you found nothing. You quickly brushed it off and went back to the task at hand, your mind getting lost in thought about a certain someone with blonde hair and blue eyes. It was almost like he never really left your mind at all, he was constantly grazing your thoughts. He seemed to appear everywhere that you went, in the color red, in roses, in the fallen snow on the ground. It wasn't till you heard another knock at your window, this one much harder than the last, that you actually went over to check what was making the noise.

When you looked you found your lover waiting for you, his nose and cheeks tinted pink from the cold wind that bite at his face outside. An instant smile flew to your face when you saw him, a white rose clutched in his hand, waiting for you. You quickly opened your window to let him in, he had never done this before. You quickly tried to fight the nervousness in your stomach while you lifted the window as you almost sang his name with excitement. The cold air bit at your nipples, making them hard in an instant as it flew in from the outside. You quickly shut the window after he made it inside, a smile so big on your face that your cheeks hurt from the strain. You were so excited to see him, that you didn't notice the darkness that clouded his eyes, or his gaze that kept falling down to your almost see through dress.

"Corio!" You sang again, your arms hugging around his broad shoulders, you stepped on your tip toes to be able to reach that high. You laughed gleefully, his arms wrapping around your waist. He lifted you up so your legs wrapped around his hips as you giggled in excitement, your night gown riding up to the point it almost exposed your white panties. Corio quickly put you down after the initial excitement, softly kissing your lips after your feet touched the floor.

"My rose!" He laughed purposefully, looking down at you. Your innocence and excitement gleaming up at him through your eyes, and all he could think about was taking it from you. Unbeknownst to you. Corio's height gave him an advantage to look down at your swollen breasts in your night gown. It caused his dick to strain in his pants, he wanted to audibly groan from the pain, but he knew that tonight he was going to get what he wanted.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, your smile radiating through your words. He picked up the rose that had slightly gotten crushed in your big hug.

"I was thinking of you when I saw this, and I just had to come bring it to you," he said as he brought the rose to your hand. It was beautiful, even with some of the petals fallen onto the floor. Your heart melted at the thought of him thinking of you, if only you knew the ways he thought of you.

"Thank you, Corio, it's beautiful!" You gleamed as you took the rose, "I don't have anything to put it in here though," you quickly frowned. You knew that your parents would hear you if you began clattering about through your house looking for a vase. He brought his hand to smooth the lines of your worry, lifting your chin to look up at him.

"It's okay," he soothed. Even while he was comforting you, power radiated off of him, "I can always bring you more." You quickly set the rose on your vanity where you had sat moments before. You were so comfortable with him; it didn't even register in your mind what you were wearing and how inappropriate it might be.

Corio walked over to your bed and sat down, not bothering to ask for permission. He admired you from a distance, your curves prominent in the night gown. Your nipples poking through your dress, begging for his attention, begging for his lips. He would get down on his knees and beg now (something he would never admit to), if it meant that he could suck on them. You turned around fully to face him, looking at him with so much love and admiration.

"Come here, love," He stated, not giving you an option to say no. You did as he demanded, your hips swinging in an unknowingly alluring manner. He grabbed your hands when you were stood in front of him, pulling you onto his lap. You gasped at the action, attempting to pull away from the shock of the sudden closeness but his grip stayed firm. Your legs encased his hips, his hard dick pushing into your folds. You weren't necessarily used to this type of intimacy with Corio, but he had been getting you prepared for what was to come. Heated kisses whenever you two were alone, his fingers would always brush your most sensitive parts without getting too close. He knew how to make you long for things, without you even necessarily realizing what you were longing for. You didn't even really process what was poking into you know, all you knew was that it shot tingles up your spin.

"Corio!" You gasped again when he slightly pushed his hips into yours, an uncontrollable movement on his part, but he longed for a touch that he hadn't felt in so long. His head fell into the nape of your neck, landing soft kisses from your exposed collarbone to your jaw. You giggled at the ticklish feeling of his lips, but it also sent a familiar warmth through you.

"So beautiful," he murmured, still planting kisses on your neck. You brought your hands to his face and made him face you as you planted fast kisses all over his cheeks in face in a girlish manner, giggling softly. Corio smiled at the action, letting it warm his cold heart for only a minute. The guilt of what he was going to do tinged his thoughts for a second before he thought about what he wanted, what he needed. He knew he didn't love you, but you were something he wanted, something he possessed. He liked his possessions.

You both stared at each other for a minute, your hands still cupping his cheeks and his hands held your hips firmly. The light feeling from before replaced itself with something heavier, something you couldn't quite place, and you weren't sure if you wanted to. You saw Corio's eyes fall down to your lips, your hands fell from his face and landed on his chest as the tension weighed down on yours. Corio gripped your hips tighter, squeezing him impossibly closer to you as he leaned in to kiss you. The kiss started off sweet, his lips brushing against yours softly. This you were used to, you quickly fell into the groove of his lips. Finding your home in the way he touched you. There was something different this time though, something new. Corio quickly made the kiss faster, harder, and you tried your hardest to keep up. He licked your bottom lip, asking for permission. You parted your lips, trying your best to match his fast aggressive pace. His tongue edging yours. Your hands now gripped his face out of instinct and his right hand trailed to grab your breast. You gasped into the kiss; he had never done that before. He squeezed as he pushed his hips into yours, eliciting a moan from your lips as his dick pressed into your clit. You had never felt this way before.

Corio pressed himself harder into you, he could feel the wetness from your cotton underwear staining his red pressed trousers, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. All he wanted to find himself was deep into you, pounding into you, he wanted to feel you quiver around him. His lips were still attached to yours, the rhythm long gone, it was all teeth and tongue. He was surprised at your ability to keep up with him, but he noticed your hesitancy. He moved back from you, separating the kiss harshly. You gasped at the lack of contact, subconsciously pushing your hips into his. Longing for that pleasure that he was giving to you.

"Y/N," Corio said sternly, causing you to look at him. He could see the desire in your eyes, and he knew he had you right where he wanted you. "I need you." He said, with as much desperation he could allow himself. Corio wasn't above begging you for what he wanted, although he would never admit it.

"You have me," you said softly, attempting to smile at him. You leaned back into the kiss, attempting to regain the passion, but he stopped you.

"No, I need you," he emphasized the need, pushing his hips into yours. Your face held the confusion that you were thinking. That was another thing he liked about you, if you wouldn't say it, your face would. It made it extremely easy for him to understand you.

"I-I don't get what you mean," you stuttered, your lips making a slight o shape when he pushed into you again. He moved his hands down to your vagina, eliciting another gasp from your lips.

"I need you here," he said as he moved your dress to your hips and pushed your panties to the side. His fingers grazed your soaking folds, both of you looking down to find a dark wet spot on the crotch of his trousers. "It feels like you need me to, my rose," he said softly, as his fingers dived in between your folds. He quickly found your clit, pressing into it as he watched your sweet face change in pleasure.

"I don't understand still," your voice cried out in pleasure and confusion. He could almost hear the tears in your voice, it should have made him stop, should have made him quit, but it only made him want to take it further.

He used his spare hand to grab yours, he slowly pulled it over his hard chest. You felt the bumps and ridges of his ab muscles and then felt the hardness of his dick. He forced you to squeeze him with your hands, still circling your clit in a harsh manner.

"Y/N, I need you," he emphasized by pushing into your clit, causing you to throw your head back, "here." He said using your hand to squeeze his dick. You didn't respond, you couldn't from the shock waves his fingers were sending through your body.

Corio moved his pointer finger from your clit to your entrance, your wetness coating him even more. He didn't know a girl could get so wet, but God was he grateful for that. All he could think about was you encasing him, your heat squeezing him till he forgot all about District 12 and that Lucy Gray. He could imagine a life with you, a real life, one with happiness and love, but that thought quickly disappeared from his mind.

He could see a life with you though, maybe not a real one but a life. One where you were constantly swollen with his babies. The thought of that caused him to groan as he pushed his pointer finger into you. As he felt you squeeze his finger, all he could think about was how good you were going to feel.

"Please, Y/N," Corio begged, you had never heard such a neediness in his voice before, not that you were aware enough to pick up on it. All you could think about was his finger in you and his thumb grazing your clit.

"O-okay," you agreed. Not even exactly sure what you were agreeing to, but you had a feeling it wasn't necessarily good.

Corio let out a sigh of relief at your agreeance, as much as it shamed him to admit, he would've gotten on his knees for that affirmation. He quickly threw his shirt of his head and gripped your waist. He pulled you in for another kiss, pulling you down onto him once more. Your exposed folds felt even more of him. He quickly tossed you around, laying you on your back as he stood in front of you.

He sat you up, lifting you light blue dress over your head. Your swollen breasts now bare for his viewing, but not an ounce of insecurity ran through your head. You trusted him with everything you had in you. You truly believed he would never hurt you.

"God," he groaned as he looked at you. He couldn't waste another second not being inside of you, he quickly unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down his legs. You admired his muscular form, which only sent more waves of warmth down you. You gasped as he pulled his dick out from his pants, it looked terrifyingly huge for a moment. He laughed at your expression but swelled up with pride as you looked at him with amazement. He quickly pulled your white cotton underwear off of your legs, looking down at your glimmering heat. He needed to be inside of you.

He crawled on top of you, kissing his way from your torso to your breast. He licked at your nipple before fully enveloping it with his mouth and sucking on it. This caused you to let out a loud moan, the tingle that you felt from this sent shockwaves everywhere. He released it, but not before biting it harshly.

He then moved up more, bringing your legs around his waist and his dick in between your folds. You let out a sigh of relief from the contact and he kissed your lips. This time, much softer, gentler than before. He began to grind himself into you, properly getting himself coated in your wetness.

He guided the tip of his dick to your entrance, slowly poking himself in. He maintained control of himself in this moment, even when you moaned from the pleasurable contact. He just put the tip in and you already felt so full. Corio had to separate himself from the kiss and his head found its home in the nape of your neck. He was breathing heavily as he maintained control, slowly pushing into you. Even though, all he wanted to do was wreck you.

He pushed in slowly, inch by inch. Stopping every few seconds to make sure you were okay, and not hurting. Before long, you were gasping at the fullness of him bottoming out into you. You two stayed like this for a long time before he lost control and started moving again.

"God damnit Y/N," he groaned, the sweat of losing control falling onto your skin. His words flew past you as the fullness was all that crowded your mind. "So fucking tight," he cursed as he drew himself out and back into you. He pivoted ever so slightly and was now making you see stars.

"Corio, corio, corio," you moaned as he now began to pound into you. Any sense of self control he had, was long gone as he heard you calling out his name with such need.

"So big," you moaned, drool coming out of your mouth as your grasped your breast with your hands. His hips stuttering inside of you as he watched you fondle yourself.

"Fuck, Y/N, fuck," he repeated, slamming into you harder. It should have hurt you, should have made you cry from the pressure, but it didn't. It drove you nearly as mad as he was. His words were lost on you, anything he said was tuned out by the feeling of being so full of him.

Your pussy let out squelching noises from how wet you were and hard he was pounding into you. Corio began to kiss to your ear and let out breathy whispers that you were too out of it to notice.

"Fucking hell, tightest pussy I've ever had," he murmured more to himself. Corio thought in his head he should have taken this from you long ago, you were handling yourself so well. He practically cursed himself out thinking of all the months he missed out on this feeling. You moans were fuel to his fire, your sweet soft voice paired with the debaucherous noises of your body colliding made him impossibly harder than he already was.

"Gonna fill you up," he moaned again, driving himself deeper into you. He was barely leaving you now, all he wanted was to be completely encased in you. "Wanna see you swell with my babies, want everyone to know that Coriolanus Snow was here," he talked in circles. One of his hands moving to press into your clit, this sent you into over drive. Your pussy began to squeeze him impossibly harder and your head was thrown back in the pleasure he was sending through you, you didn't know it but this was your very first orgasm.

Corio was trying his hardest to maintain his composure, to hold onto the feeling of driving himself inside of you like a mad man, but he quickly lost control when hearing your voice. "I love you, I love you, U love you," You repeated, pulling him closer to you with your legs. You squeezed him so tightly, he thought that even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to leave your tight hole.

This only drove him further into you, and this is where he released his cum. His hips stuttered into yours for a solid minute, filling you up with everything he had been saving for you for the last few months. He came so much it began to spill out of you with him still inside of you. He looked down and saw how swollen your vagina was around him, the white semen leaking out around his dick, and for just a moment he wanted to say I love you too.

a/n: shit man. that took me two and a half hours.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #corio #coriolanus x lucy gray #coriolanus x you #tbosas #the hunger games smut #hunger games smut #gale smut #peeta smut #haymitch smut #smut #tbosbas smut

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distantdarlings · 5 months

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RECIPROCATION // e. berkshire

RATING: R / 3.7K WORDS

Enzo Berkshire x Reader Insert (No gender-specific details)

+ SUMMARY - *Requested (based on this)* Enzo Berkshire has a tendency to flirt with you. You reciprocate the flirtation, thinking that he genuinely may like you, but that hope is screwed up when he seems to be flirting with another person.

+ WARNINGS - Language, kissing, nothing else really, not fully proof-read (Fluff, Romance)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

As Long As You Love Me - Sleeping At Last

(Note: I am very sorry for the sudden delay in all of my writing. To be quite honest, I started a new job and got into a car crash this week and haven't been writing at all. Please accept this request, and I will have pt. 5 of By the Fireplace out ASAP)

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“Hey, darling, wait up!”

The voice came from behind you. You pivoted on your heels, stopping right in your tracks on your way to Defense Against Dark Arts, and glanced around. Your eyes circled the hallway until they landed on a waving hand attached to a grinning body. A smile spread over your lips as you recognized the voice's owner. Lorenzo Berkshire. Handsome, funny, old-money rich, with a side of infamy due to his frightening family.

He stopped before you, panting slightly from the jog up to you. His face was a bit flushed, and his lips were parted with a bit of shine spread over them. He looked absolutely breathtaking. You nearly had to steady yourself as he combed his fingers through his hair.

“Well, hello, Berkshire. Are you on your way to class as well?” You turned back the way you were initially heading and started off, beckoning for him to follow. He gave a slight nod, never dropping his glorious smile.

“Yeah, I spotted you on my way out of the courtyard and figured I’d walk with you,” he said, “it’d give me a chance to see my favorite person.” Your stomach flushed. Favorite person? You could have fainted.

“Well, I’m glad you wanted to walk with me,” you smiled, clutching your books tightly against your chest.

Enzo had always been an enormous flirt—specifically toward you. You’d be lying if you said you minded it; after all, the boy was absolutely gorgeous and practically everything you could ever want out of a romantic partner. He oozed radiance and dripped sex. Damn it. Your eyes watched as he jogged ahead of you to grab the door to the classroom, the muscles along his forearm rippling wonderfully. Merlin’s sake, he looked like he belonged on the cover of a Muggle romance novel.

You flashed him your best smile and slipped through the door, watching as he followed quickly behind you.

The two of you had been friends for a very long time—almost since first year, to be exact. Halfway through second year, the two of you had been paired together for a project in Potions class, and not only had you succeeded in working together flawlessly, but you’d also grown really close. He had always been a good friend to you, no matter what you needed. He was, quite honestly, more than you deserved. But, on the darker side of things, as he grew older, he grew quite flirty. At every turn, he was tracing you with his eyes or making a quick quip about your eyes or your clothing. It was more than you could handle on some days. Your platonic feelings toward him had very quickly become romantic feelings.

You selected your usual seat in the classroom and kicked the chair beside you out so Enzo could take his place next to you. You mentally prepared yourself for a whole period of brushing elbows, skimming shoes, and knowingly glancing at each other. Why wouldn’t he just admit he liked you already? There was apparent tension between the two of you—even other people had caught on. So why couldn’t he just admit it? Granted, you could say the same for yourself.

Once the Professor had settled everybody in and started with the lecture, you saw Enzo begin to rummage through his bag slowly, trying not to disturb anyone. One hand held the fabric pocket open while the other selected his class journal and his ink kit. You’d already had your things set out by now, but you figured he was just a little behind, per usual. Not that it was a bad thing. It was sort of endearing.

Through glances out of the corner of your eye, you saw him flip his journal open, collect a generous amount of ink on the tip of his quill, and begin to write. The soft scratches of the quill’s tip tickled the edges of your ear, sending a line of chills down your arm. There was only a tiny amount of information written on the board so far, so he should have no trouble keeping up.

After a few minutes of continuous scratching, Enzo’s elbow gently bumped yours. Discreetly, you looked over at him and scrunched your eyebrows in silent question. He gestured with his head to the small folded paper beside me. How odd, you hadn’t even heard him tear it out. You quietly placed your quill into its ink well and slipped the note between your stomach and the desk to conceal the message from the professor.

Have I mentioned that you are looking absolutely ravishing today? Your jaw nearly dropped. With wide eyes, you looked over at him. A smug smirk was printed on his face as he sent an addicting wink your way. You tried your hardest not to blush, but, of course, you’d failed. Must he always be this…severe? You flipped the note over to the other side and wrote: I think this letter was meant for someone else. Unless you have something to tell me? You passed it back. He wrote quickly.

Of course not, darling. Just that you are the most beautiful person in this room. In attempted controlled laughter, the two of you shouldered the other. You knew he was joking, but still, you quietly slipped the paper into your bag. Something about those words in his handwriting directed to you had you blushing. You both returned to your note-taking for the class.

A few moments of comfortable silence passed before you noticed Enzo’s shoulder shaking with silent laughter. You looked over briefly, seeing a note in his hands. You thought it may have been the same one the two of you had been communicating on before you remembered that you had put that one in your bag. A closer glance revealed that Enzo’s handwriting was on the paper, as was someone else’s. You didn’t recognize the penmanship. You leaned a bit closer, careful not to disturb him as he read the note.

Have you considered who you will invite to the winter formal? A question to Enzo. Then, his response. I’ve thought long and well about it, darling. Your heart clenched. You flicked your eyes around the room, trying to guess who had sent the note, and landed on some girl from Hufflepuff giggling to her friend and occasionally casting glances at a smirking Enzo. Her eyes caught yours, and you quickly dropped the contact, returning to your notes. Was Enzo taking one of them to the formal? Because you’d honestly thought…never mind.

Your fingers subconsciously tightened around your quill; so tight, in fact, that your knuckles bled white and the end of its feather creased.

“Woah,” Enzo laughed, “what did that quill ever do to you?” His voice snapped you out of your internal rage. Tendrils of guilt and jealousy spiraled around your throat.

“Nothing, just tired,” you lied, releasing your death grip on the quill and returning to your work. You ignored him for the rest of class, completely missing the nervous glances he threw you every so often.

By the end of the lecture, you’d packed your things as quickly as possible and headed out the door, not bothering to wait for Enzo to catch up. Perhaps it was childish, but you really thought he might have had feelings for you. But it seemed that the natural flirtation may just be part of his personality.

You blew a sigh through your lips and pushed a hand through your hair. Surely, there was an explanation as to why he seemed to prefer you to other students. He never followed those Hufflepuff girls around like he did you. Or did he? Maybe you just hadn’t seen him doing it. You suppressed the urge to let out a groan. Why couldn’t romance and crushes and love be simple?

You headed toward the Great Hall to stock up on a bit of lunch; there was no way in hell you were eating in there today. With your luck, you’d crash right into Enzo and have him demand why you stormed out of class. Not that he’d demand anything. He was always so gentle with you…no, shut up. You weren’t going to think about him anymore today. You need to forget about it and focus on studying for your test in Potions today.

You were kind of absolutely terrible at the class and needed all the help you could get. More than once, you’d been tempted to write the answers on your hand and briefly turn them invisible with a simple spell, but you weren’t that low. You weren’t going to cheat. Enzo was good at Potions class. He could help—

“Ugh!” You pushed the boy out of your head as you turned into the Great Hall, conjuring a small cloth napkin. It fell into your hand delicately and displayed itself evenly as you began to pack a few things onto it—a bit of cheese, some grapes, a muffin. You smiled to yourself as your stomach rumbled. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until just now. All of this worrying about He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Jr. (not the noseless one) had your stomach clawing for some sustenance.

You scooped all of the food together and tied a small knot into the napkin, slipping it into your cloak pocket. One of the goblets you’d gotten from your birthday last year appeared before you, and you poured some pumpkin juice into it. You wouldn’t take one of their goblets because you knew you’d forget to return it. Wandlessly, you sent it back to your dormitory.

You turned and headed toward the grand doors, eyes toward the ground. You whisked across the stone floors, focusing on one thing only: getting back to your dorm without bumping into any…unmentionables.

A few familiar voices swirled around you as they passed by. You tucked your head even more, realizing it was a few of Enzo’s friends. You were friendly with them and knew they’d say something and draw attention to you if they recognized you. You prayed they wouldn’t notice.

And just as you had ducked your head once more and pulled the edges of your cloak over your face, you ran straight into a solid wall of Slytherin boy. You grunted from the impact and braced for the fall on your ass when he caught you quickly and steadied you. You didn’t need to look up to know who it is. You’d know his scent anywhere.

Swallowing your pride, you glanced up and made quick eye contact with Enzo. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern, and his eyes flickered over your face. You figured he was searching for some answer to your behavior earlier. You sighed and shook your head slightly, dropping the eye contact. The fingers from his left hand tightened around your arm, and his right hand tilted your head to return his gaze to yours. Embarrassed, you jerked your head out of his grasp and pushed past him.

Your legs moved faster than they had in a long while as you practically ran up to your dorm, trying to restrain the tears pooling in your eyes. That was quite literally the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened to you. Whether it was your imagination or not, you’d thought that the people around the two of you had completely silenced themselves and had been watching you. Your cheeks burned in shame. Curse this stupid crush.

Once you come upon the entrance to the Slytherin common room, you quickly speak the password and swipe a few falling tears from your cheeks. You prayed that no one was seated in the common room lest you fully die of mortification. Surely, Enzo had just been doing that because of his usual flirtatious behavior. Nothing else explains why he would have touched you like that. So gently and easily as he reconnected your eyes. The way he had looked at you as he held you tightly to keep you from falling. His lips had parted with a small exhale that had danced across your cheeks, cool and smelling of sweet mint. His thumb had brushed the surface of your chin, daring you to place your lips on it. Fuck!

You pushed through your dormitory door and pressed your hands to your face. You collapsed onto your bed, a small sob leaving your body. Fuck, you were so ashamed. Everything about Enzo swirled around your brain just as it did every day. Every detail of his face was sharp and gorgeous as if carved by Merlin himself. The curve of his lips, the tilt of his cheekbones, the way his hands seemed to always lay upon you somehow. Whether it was tilting your chin up to force your eyes back to his or pressing a hand along the small of your back to lead you forward, it didn’t matter what he was doing. All of it made the rate of your breath increase substantially. Every piece of him made up the strokes of your dreams. You were absolutely in l—

Your name cut your thoughts off. Enzo slammed through the dormitory door, eyes frantic and wild, darting around the room. When they fell upon you as you lay curled up, pitiful and sobbing, in your bed, he pushed the door shut and sped over to you. He squatted down beside the bed until his eyes were level with yours. You refused to look at him. His eyes never left you. As always, he never backed down, while you did so easily. He was so much better than you.

His hand slowly raised above your head that was pressed into the mattress. Your eyes watched him as he moved, and as he reached the edge of your skull, he let it hover there. You glanced up at him in question, and his eyebrows raised. You nodded. His hand gently laid against the side of your head, slowly rolling his thumb from the tip of your eyebrow to your hairline. It was soothing, and his hands were soft and warm. You felt safe beneath his large grip.

“What happened?” he whispered, eyes searching yours. “Was it something I did or said? If it was something that I caused, we can talk about it. I promise I’ll fix—”

“It’s not you, En,” you interrupted, your voice crackling beneath the weight of your pathetic tears. You were mortified. “It’s me, I guess I just…I just thought…” The words refused to leave your mouth. Your eyes closed in frustration.

“You thought what? Tell me,” he whispered, scooting his face closer to yours, his thumb never stopping its calming motion.

“It’s stupid,” you whined.

“No, it’s not,” he replied, “it’s making you upset. I want to fix it…did someone do something to you?” You shook your head. The culprit of your current emotional status was none other than yourself.

“I wanted you to ask me to the formal,” you winced in embarrassment, “and I got upset that you’re asking that girl in Defense instead…” His eyes widened for a moment, and he said nothing. My God, this was the worst day of your life. Your eyes welled up with tears at the possibility of verbal rejection. “God, I know I sound like a toddler, whining like this, but I really like you, En.”

“You don’t sound like a toddler,” he said. His face moved even closer to yours. You could feel his breath on your face now and count each individual eyelash. His eyelids were half-closed now, an air of intimacy spinning between the two of you. “I like you too…a lot.”

The pitch of his voice pushed a shiver through you. The feeling of acceptance brushed through you quickly, elating your heartbeat. Enzo liked you back? Fuck, Enzo liked you back. Your eyes refused to leave his, now. Your heart pounded in your ears, echoing against the back of your skull.

“I…” you breathed, your voice trailing off. Could you even get the words out? Your breath shuddered as his hands slid down the top of your head to pinch your chin again. He held you in place, his fingers so warm against your skin. His thumb brushed slowly over your top lip.

“Can I kiss you?” he breathed. Each exhale from his lips painted the edges of your jawline, teasing longing out of you. Enzo wanted to kiss you. You wanted to kiss him so badly. You slowly nodded your head.

Then his fingers weren’t so easy as he pulled himself roughly to your face. His lips crashed against yours, clacking your teeth together. You gasped into his mouth as he stood and slipped onto the bed over you, never once separating your lips. Your heart felt as though it was going to explode. You weren’t sure if you could handle this feeling.

Your fingers tightened in his smooth hair, reveling in the feeling of the delicate strands. He sighed against your lips as the motion tugged at his scalp. Every feeling, every touch, every brush of his lips was almost too much for you to accept. Your chest rose heavily at the feeling, your heart thrashing against your rib cage. You were sure if he kept on, with him caressing every inch of the inside of your mouth, you’d faint.

You jerked away from him, pushing yourself out from under him and against your headboard.

“I’m sorry. Was that too far?” he immediately spoke. His hair was tousled, his cheeks were flushed, and his lips were swollen. He looked absolutely ethereal. The air entered and left his chest at a rapid pace. His fingers nervously closed around your blanket.

“No!” you practically screamed. “It wasn’t too far…I thought my chest was going to burst.” You chuckled breathlessly, pressing a shaking hand against your heart. You had dreamed of that feeling for months, and getting to experience it so suddenly had you reeling. Enzo was flawless, and every aspect of his perfect being was pushing your shattered self back together. He was more than just a crush.

“I’m sorry, I’m a bit embarrassed,” you laughed.

“Me too,” he smiled sheepishly, “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time; I suppose I was a bit too eager.” Fuck, he was perfect.

“You’ve wanted to kiss me for a long time?” He looked at you as if you were slow. As if his following words were the only possible response that could have come out of his mouth.

“Of course I have,” he laughed, “have I not been terribly obvious? I thought it was easy to see that I’ve been utterly in love with you for the last year.” Your lips fell apart in shock.

“You…love me?”

“Yes,” he breathed. His eyes flickered down to your lips once again. Everything in your body urged you to touch him again, to feel his lips on yours, but you wanted more information.

“But, why?” you laughed.

“Why? Oh, you have no idea. I am in love with you. You are the most perfect person I have ever met—” his hands removed themselves from the blankets to press to either side of your face—“your personality, your humor, your mind, everything about you makes my heart swell. When you look at me, when you walk next to me, when your arms would brush me in class…those small gestures have always been enough to sustain a deep desire to be loved by you.”

“En—”

“If you do not reciprocate those feelings, that is okay. I’m not going to force you to feel anything toward me. The feeling of that kiss was enough, and if you asked me never to speak to you again…it would be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I will do it, knowing that I told you my true feelings. The feeling of your lips on mine has renewed me forever.”

“Fuck,” you sobbed. The two of you laughed as tears welled in your eyes. The impact of Enzo’s words had hit you like a train, burrowing deep into the vessels of your heart. You never knew someone could be capable of loving in a way such as that, let alone the recipient of that love being you. And to think that he wasn’t even sure if you loved him back. To think he said all of that, not knowing if he’d ever feel the same thing in return. It was enough for the tears to begin sliding down your cheeks.

“Please don’t cry,” he whispered. His thumbs gently brushed the liquid away from your cheeks. A small smile was plastered on his face, and his eyes were easy and comforting.

“En,” you sobbed, your voice shaking, “of course I love you back. That’s why I was so upset earlier. I’ve loved you for so long. All I think of is you…I have to push you from my thoughts to get anything done.” The two of you laughed quietly.

“I’m that distracting?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow teasingly. You rolled your eyes and nodded, the smile refusing to leave your lips. Your cheeks ached beneath the pull of the grin, but nothing was going to pull it away from you. You were much too happy for that.

He pulled your body against him, cradling your head lovingly against his chest as your arms wrapped around his waist. He smelled sweet and familiar, his heartbeat pushing slightly against your cheek. The feeling of him pressed against you was more than you ever could have hoped for. His strong arms held you tightly in place, warding off anything that could ever get to you. Within Enzo’s hold, you felt like you could survive anything as if his body was energizing you. The love surging through your veins slipped against his, eternally binding them together. You were Enzo’s, and he was yours; that was all you’d ever hoped for. The universe had been particularly kind today. You smiled, your eyes slipping closed.

“I love you,” he whispered, his lips pressed into your hair. You took a moment to relish in the feeling of having someone say that to you, of having him say that to you. It felt so perfect.

“I love you too, En.”

#fanfiction #creative writing #fanfic #writing #reader insert #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #oneshot #slytherin #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire #gender neutral reader #request #fluff

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perpetual-stories · 4 months

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Eight Strategies for Improving Dialogue in Your Writing

Well, hi! Oh my… wow! It’s been a long time since I’ve posted! I’ve been very busy and I am genuinely sorry to all my followers, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten about this account, but here is one final post for the year!

Hopefully next year I become consistent with it again!

Let’s begin!

One of the best ways to help a reader connect with your writing is by crafting excellent dialogue. Use these tips to learn how to write dialogue that showcases character development, defines your characters’ voices, and hooks readers.

Why Use Dialogue?

Good dialogue performs all sorts of functions in fiction writing. It defines your characters’ voices, establishes their speech patterns, exposes the inner emotions, and showcases their character development. Beyond mere characterization, effective dialogue can also establish the setting and time period of your story and reveal information in a way that doesn’t feel overly expository.

Authors use lines of dialogue to reveal a character’s personality and express their point of view. For instance, an archetypal football coach might speak in short, terse sentences peppered with exclamation points and quotations from famous war generals. By contrast, a nebbish lover with a broken heart might drone on endlessly to his therapist or best friend, speaking in run-on sentences that circle around his true motivations. When an author can reveal character traits through dialogue, it cuts down on exposition and makes a story flow briskly.

Eight Writing Tips for Improving Dialogue

The first time you write dialogue, you may find it quite difficult to replicate the patterns of normal speech. This can be compounded by the concurrent challenges of finding your own voice and telling a great story overall. Even bestselling authors can get stuck on how a particular character says a particular line of dialogue. With practice and hard work, however, lackluster dialogue can be elevated to great dialogue.

Here are some strategies for improving the dialogue in your own work:

Mimic the voices of people in your own life. Perhaps you’ve created a physician character with the same vocal inflections as your mother. Perhaps your hero soldier talks just like your old volleyball coach. If you want to ensure that your dialogue sounds the way real people speak, there’s no better resource than the real life people in your everyday world.

Mix dialogue with narration. Long runs of dialogue can dislodge a reader from the action of a scene. As your characters talk, interpolate some descriptions of their physical postures or other activity taking place in the room. This mimics the real-world experience of listening to someone speaking while simultaneously taking in visual and olfactory stimuli.

Give your main character a secret. Sometimes a line of dialogue is most notable for what it withholds. Even if your audience doesn’t realize it, you can build dynamic three-dimensionality by having your character withhold a key bit of information from their speech. For instance, you may draft a scene in which a museum curator speaks to an artist about how she wants her work displayed—but what the curator isn’t saying out loud is that she’s in love with the artist. You can use that secret to embed layers of tension into the character’s spoken phrases.

Use a layperson character to clarify technical language. When you need dialogue to convey technical information in approachable terms, split the conversation between two people. Have one character be an expert and one character be uninformed. The expert character can speak at a technical level, and the uninformed one can stop them, asking questions for clarification. Your readers will appreciate it.

Use authentic shorthand. Does your character call a gun a “piece” or a “Glock”? Whatever it is, be authentic and consistent in how your characters speak. If they all sound the same, your dialogue needs another pass.

Look to great examples of dialogue for inspiration. If you're looking for a dialogue example in the realm of novels or short stories, consider reading the great books written by Mark Twain, Judy Blume, or Toni Morrison. Within the world of screenwriting, Aaron Sorkin is renowned for his use of dialogue.

Ensure that you’re punctuating your dialogue properly. Remember that question marks and exclamation points go inside quotation marks. Enclose dialogue in double quotation marks and use single quotation marks when a character quotes another character within their dialogue. Knowing how to punctuate dialogue properly can ensure that your reader stays immersed in the story.

Use dialogue tags that are evocative. Repeating the word “said” over and over can make for dull writing and miss out on opportunities for added expressiveness. Consider replacing the word “said” with a more descriptive verb.

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