#It even stays on my lips so I can't lick them without tasting that horrible bitterness laced up in ✨stwawbewwy✨

[xwx404error]

Cigarette (OP one-shot ?)

I wanted it to be like, Robin's p.o.v or even Nami's, but I'll leave it to imagination. Self insert if you want to.

I wrote this some time ago. I'll probably start posting one shots, headcanons etc of anime too. English is not my first language...I apologize if there are mistakes.

I'll probably do a revamp of this one later cuz I think I can make it better.

Warning: I guess it's kind of dark and can be quite "confusing". There's a resemblance to intrusive thoughts kind of. Idk

__________________

It's almost winter again.

Sitting on the edge of the bench, I rest my hands on my lap and remain more silent than before. I look at my long fingers. If I convince myself enough, I can feel my heart beating in the tip of them, and if I try a little harder, I don't feel them as I should. I end up thinking too much. Maybe I didn't want to be part of my body entirely, but all desires have a stronger source. In my case, this source may be more inconsistent than the desire itself. I've seen almost everything. I've studied too much, traveled and experienced, but life seems to slip through my long fingers all the time.

I'm ambitious, in a not-so-traditional way. The only thing that satisfies me...maybe it exists somewhere, but until I find it, I want everything, without needing anything. Why am I so empty? I think about my journey so far, about a life I decided for myself and all this freedom I have in this immense gray sea. It's so vast...I turn my head toward it, right there, with its passive, dangerous waves, carrying this ship silently, but whispering to those who can hear, "be careful."

Living is a privilege. An art that is difficult to appreciate. Every now and then I shy away from this to be less aware of this world, and fantasize about a personal achievement that fills my distant spirit. Not that it always works. I can't escape the acceptance of my own death, nor can I silence my thoughts wrapped in a taciturn mentality. I've tried, it's just complicated. I feel guilty...

I want to be loved. No...I wish to be free. I want to travel the world and devour it with all my teeth and a dry tongue, only to spit it out seconds later.

It makes me feel good like this — I raise my hands now and rest my face on one of them — My face knows how to smile and laugh. Little by little, I think I'm...

I smell a familiar smell. A taste of malice in the back of my throat. I take my eyes to the slender silhouette, with its thirsty 1.80. The cook, blonde, rests his blue orbs on my face and lights a cigarette between his lips. I give him a horrible, almost sadistic smile, so disguised in elegance. He smiles back, suggestive and posing near the counter. His unrequited advances became funny over time. Yes. It's funny. He always moves gallantly, and so willing with girls, that I despise him. I began to see him as an innocent, scared puppy, who waits for treats and carefully licks your hand. A good guy.

One way or another, he would come here to affect the scene as an egocentric arrogant, but at the same time kind and compassionate, in silence, with his strange charm and a perfume that is always corrupted by the aroma of cigarettes. He takes a puff. Smoke dances out of his mouth and spreads across the space, embracing me in the process. It's something that fills your lungs momentarily and is gone. Again and again...slowly. I stay focused on that, concentrated on the butt burning and the ashes falling...falling...falling. Where did this cook find this cigarette? How many things you must have seen, right? And the trips after his manufactured birth...until he arrived at these big, smooth hands.

I imagine the twilight of this cigarette's death. It distresses and intrigues me. His lips part along with my gently raising eyebrows. I wait for it to anxiously exhale the smoke, and when it does, I watch it fly away and dissipate like a soul. The fire from the cigarette butt sparking, like exclamations and renunciations.

Would you be relieved? Or less distressed? For so little, I don't know. Its size gradually decreases, aging and being consumed. Sounds familiar...

I realize I've been staring at him for a long time when his eyes question mine. I pay little attention.

—Do you want one...?—The man asks and wakes me up, pointing to the pack stuck between his teeth. Again, the malicious passive tone. A real flirt...

—I dont smoke. Thank you.—He nods briefly and continue. The ashes hit the ground, the cigarette butt still burns, and feeds his addiction.

Death...

I see my body between his lips, with my hands crossed over my chest and my head burning. With each puff, a piece of my soul dissipates, sickening me and killing me at the same time. My ashes fall, my body begins to fall apart too. I'm a cigarette in the cook's mouth. I want to be a cigarette, and kill and die, for a moment to have all the memories of addicts, of my travels around the world and of my artificial fabrication. If this cigarette saw the world until it was consumed, and Sanji is the kiss of death, I, who am not so different, also desire it. I, who am already old, who am so cruel.

My head feels hot, almost pulsing, and I imagine this scenario over and over again. Fantasizing with deep puffs. "Come on, smoke me!", and I am loved and free at the same time, consuming and being consumed, infesting your lungs with my emptiness and disappearing. Not that I want that. I realized at the last minute that I got too excited. The feeling of my spirit being obliterated, sucked in and expelled...I don't know why I fantasized about something so bizarre. I stand up and smile, impassive. How could I feel ecstatic about something like that?

#fanfiction #one piece #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #one piece sanji #anime and manga #one shot

[sysig]

Even my blood is strawberry-scented

Charm Myr, probably

#It has been an interesting day so far #Our closest store is having a closing sale - it is a large brand weep not - so we went out and bought some novelties #I now have a plush horse :) And I am happy for it #He's made with soft plush material and has interesting construction! Well worth waiting for a sale lol #But one of the things we saw was this like - plastic milk container filled with slime? Pink slime that's strawberry-scented? #And we were like ''Well obviously we have to get this I mean it's on sale /and/ it's absolutely ridiculous'' #And so we get home crack it open and it slowly just kinda plops and bloops and pops out of the small opening at the top #It is in fact rather dissimilar to an actual milk carton who could've suspected #So we play with it for a bit and it has that very Distinct clearly-not-edible chemically strawberry smell that toys tend to #But it's shimmery and cold and that's great for summer (not that it's very cold today but good for the future!) #And it has a warning not to eat it (no worries there it smells terrible) and to wash hands once you're done playing with it #We do and continue about our day #Now I - despite growing my middle finger nails - still bite all of the rest of them and the skin around them #I go to do so and immediately sputter and pfffbtl and all the rest #The smell - the /taste/ has seeped into the pads of our fingers and despite several hand washings it will not let up #Hot water cold water hand soap dish soap fuckin' baking soda it is relentless #I can't even touch what I want to eat directly because the flavour will transfer from my fingers to the food to my mouth #It even stays on my lips so I can't lick them without tasting that horrible bitterness laced up in ✨stwawbewwy✨ #I am in hell #So yeah 8/10 we'll have to put on gloves next time we play with it #Villainsona #Just Desserts

[nkogneatho]

ENEMIES TO LOVERS + KYOUTANI KENTAROU (f!reader)

Requests are open. Prompt list here.

Requested by @satisfactory-simp

A/n: Hello. I am really sorry this took so long. My tumblr was glitching so I am unable to answer and my drafts won't save. Anyways, here you go. I hope you like it.💕

Disclaimer: I do not own the character, the character in this 18+.

Warnings: Smut, Angsty.

Life basically sucked. You barely had any friends, not so comfortable with your family, and plus just took admission in a new school. Seijoh was known for elites. You thought it'd be nice to have decent people around you until your very first encounter was with this horrible person.

"Can't you walk properly? Don't you have eyes?", excuse me? Who is he yelling at? Isn't it his mistake you thought but you really didn't want to get caught in a mess on your very first day at school. You just apologized and left.

When the lecture started, you felt everyone staring at you and mumbling. You look up only to see they were glancing a bit backwards. You turned your head to find the very same guy you met in the corridor covered in bruises. What the hell?

"Got a problem with me? Is there anything on my face", shit. You stared at him for too long.

Yes there is. "Um no nothing, sorry" wait why am I apologizing? Did he get bullied. Judging from his posture and attitude doesn't look it. He seems like the one who bullies other. You really didn't like him or anything about him. He was the same. You were just classmates nothing more than that but still whenever you saw each other, there was this hatred. Maybe it was because you both always encounter each other on the wrong time.

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

One day, after the lecture you went to explore the school and it's well known volleyball players. You found the practice hall empty and locked. Maybe it's there day off. You heard a continuous loud sound arithmetically. You saw Mad dog practicing his serves. Balls hitting the ground so hard that you were sure they were gonna bursts. A girl approaches him. They were arguing. Is she his girlfriend? Well sure it was none of your business but since you had nothing to do, you stayed to watch.

"Mad dog. I am trying so hard to make you go out with me"

"Didn't I tell you I am busy. I don't have time to go for dates", he clearly wanted to make her go but she seemed to hung up on him.

"But-"

"No buts. I told you. It's my decision. Now scram", he glared at her. She walked away with a frown.

Later when you arrived in your class you saw it was pretty crowdy.

"I am telling you, he purposely held my hand and slapped me", the girl cried. It was the same girl who was asking him out on the ground.

"Stop lying you bitch", Kyoutani's rage was clearly visible.

"Look at him using such words at her. I am pretty sure he did it.", people around started talking about him but they were wrong. You were there when that happened. You clearly saw the whole thing and none of this shit occurred.

"She is lying.", you spoke up. "I was there. I went to explore the volleyball club but then I saw her asking him out. Kyoutani didn't do anything. He just told her to fuck off.", Kyoutani's eyes widened at you. Never in his life anyone ever trusted him. It's that when he fell for you. He did ask you to date him later but you denied saying "I was just helping a fellow classmate. That's no reason for you to want to date me" . He was still not giving up.

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

One evening, he saw you on a date with someone else. That's it. That was enough to break his heart. He couldn't take it so he approached you disturbing your dinner with the person.

"Hey. We still have to complete that project", his eyes hooked on your date, glancing them.

"Can't you see I am between a conversation and this is my private time?", you frowned.

"I don't care. We have to complete it. I don't want to fail because of you", you were sure he was just making an excuse.

"Fail? Since when do you care about studies so much?"

"Since I wanted to pass", a fake smile on his face.

You both started arguing and were so involved in each other that you forgot about your date. When you turned your head to glance at them but they had left.

Kyoutani noticed that and walked out of the diner with a 'plan successful' look on his face.

You paid the bill and followed him outside. You gripped his arms and swayed it to make him face you.

"What?", he asked.

"What the fuck do you mean what? Wasn't it you who just ruined my dinner with them?", rage flowed your mind.

"Who cares?"

"I don't get you Kyoutani. Why did you do that? Why do you always behave like this with me?"

"Because I am in love with you, you dumbass. And I know you think, I just wanted to date you as a return for your favor for saving my ass but no. I can't help but think about you. And it fucking hurts to see you with someone else when you don't even know how I genuinely feel", he tried so hard not to cry then and there.

To be honest, yes you were a bit of an ass to him. You weren't different from those people cause even you judged him the first time you saw him. The reason you have always avoided him is maybe you were scared he might be a violent person. But now? Now after watching him like this? After knowing that he is actually a soft person and people just test him? You couldn't help but shed tears knowing how bad he must've been hurt. Overthinking about it will only ruin the moment. Your mind was a mess at that time. All you knew that if you let this chance slip, you will surely regret it. Without a second thought you gripped his collar and placed a deep kiss on his lips. You swayed away, both standing in confusion. "I-I am really sorry. I-I didn't k-know what happ-", he interrupted your stuttering latching his lips on yours. You held the hem of his jacket like holding on your feelings for him. It wasn't clear what you guys were doing at this point. What was your relation? But none of you could deny the fact that it was surprisingly comfortable.

"Can we go at my place?", you pulled away to catch a breath as you asked him. Awed at your question but he still assured that you were okay. "Are you sure?"

"Yes", eyes closed as you placed a kiss on his cheek.

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

You invited him in, keys jingling as you threw them on the counter. "You wanna eat something?", you asked searching for beverages in the fridge.

"Yeah, you.", your cheeks reddened at his words.

"Obviously I'm kidding", he approached you as he didn't wanna make things awkward but now you couldn't get the thought out of your head. The thought of how would Kyoutani look settled between your legs.

"I mean, you can if you want to.", honestly? Even you were kinda stunned at your own statement. His legs advanced towards you, arms practically caging your sides. Face rigorously close to yours. If you both kissed now, you knew things just won't stop there.

Eyes wandering on each others lips before grabbing them, the space between you to closing in as you inhaled and dwelled in his softness. Wodering despite how rough he looks, he is nothing but a delicate person.

His big arms picked you up and carried you to the couch in the hall.

"Are you sure the door's locked?", and that was the confirmation that you won't just end it on a kiss tonight.

"Yeah", he lifted up your skirt to find your thighs rubbing together in embarrassment but that was the heat between your legs. You slowly started spreading them, a part of you hesitating because of how wet he made you with just some kisses. Kyoutani's eyes perked up at the view in front of him. The wet spot on your panties were clearly visible and so some of your juices flowing from the hem of it through your inner thighs. I swear he gulped down his breath at just how sexy you looked like this. He gave you a glace for consent and you nodded. Without further ado, he licked the wetness on your inner thighs then following your sex. His first lick had you squirming because of the temperature difference. "You taste so good", tongue only left your pussy once just to compliment you.

"It's kind of-- embarrassing", you bit your finger that made him turn on even more. You peeked at the tent growing in his pants. "Kyoutani. I want you inside me", he legitimately slapped himself. "What are you doing?", you asked.

"Just making sure it's not a dream", you wrapped your hand around his neck pulling him in. "No, it's not a dream. This is for real. We are for real Kyoutani". "I love the way you call me Kyoutani unlike everyone else. Only you have the right"

"Oh you'll love it even more when I'll call you daddy", bitch don't you have shame? Is what you were screeching inside but who cares?

He didn't know he had that kink until you said it. "Where's the bedroom?", a question without a second thought.

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

He placed you on the bed delicately. You both started stripping, making sure there's nothing bothersome between when your skins touch.

Your thighs rubbed against each other the second you saw his big and thick length.

You helped him put on a condomn and then lied back with your legs apart, perhaps an invitation to just put it in.

Kyoutani gently slid his dick in your sloppy wet cunt. You hissed at the thick length stretching you out. "Is it hurting? Should I stop?". "No. Please keep going.", it did hurt a little but you were so greedy for that feeling.

He made sure to move subtly. He doesn't want to cause his love pain. Once your pussy got adjusted to it, he started thrusting. Dick reaching places, no one ever did. "Call me daddy again", you were smiling internally learning how you got him this hard. "Please fuck me Daddy. I want you", these words were enough to make him go harder as he gripped your hips. "Ahh ahh-- Kyoutani Ahh", you couldn't hold your moans at this point. It took just one deep thrust for you to come undone. Walls clenching around his dick your hands did the same to the bedsheets. Seeing you like this, the girl he fell in love with was a very unknown feeling as he never fell for anyone before.

He couldn't hold it back in. He shoved it a few more times as he reached his own high. He dropped himself on top you, elbow digging deep in the mattress as his upper body balanced on it. Eyes making sure to never yours which were half-lided from the overwhelming heat after a long time.

"You know, it really ached when you ignored me before. But now here we are. Still can't believe this happened"

"I ignored you because I was scared that I might catch feelings and it won't go the way I want to", yes, you were honestly scared.

"So what changed your mind?", the curiosity stucked in his mind.

"The fact that someone was willing to give their heart to me was enough to make me fall for you at that confession. I love you Kyoutani", now that you discovered him, even your feelings became clear.

"I love you too", he cooed with a smile.

Turns out all of that wasn't the hatred but denial of the fact that deep down, you both were meant to be but just the circumstances weren't coping up with you two.

©All the wrting contents belongs to nkogneatho 2021, do not repost.

#kyoutani kentarou #haikyuu smut #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #kyoutani x reader #kyoutani x y/n #seijoh smut #aoba johsai x reader #haikyuu x reader

[honeyoongiah]

114 days

Pairings: Jungkook x reader

Genre: Idol! Jungkook, drabble, fluff, smut

Words: 2k

Warnings: explicit sex

Summary: Jungkook AU drabble

1. I love you, I hope you know that

7. I like it when you say my name

13. You're so much fun to touch

16. No I am supposed to make you feel good

A/N: I'm sorry that you had to wait a little longer 👉🏻👈🏻 but at least the drabble got a little longer than expected! I hope you enjoy it!💕

It's been about 4 months since you've seen your boyfriend the last time. He was on tour and that meant he wasn't even in the same country as you. Even though you tried talking on the phone and texted as much as you could, it was difficult.

The different time zones made it hard to text and talk much on the phone, additional to that Jungkook was obviously very busy and when he wasn't he was dead tired and needed lots of sleep.

You lost count of how often he fell asleep while facetiming with you or how often you didn't even come that far because he fell asleep as soon as his body met the hotelbed.

You tried being understanding and supportive, it was his dream and you loved how his eyes shined when he told you about the concerts. His voice was angelic and you knew he belongs on the stage, but having a stable relationship was hard.

You had your own responsibilities so you couldn't just go with him, even though you'd love to.

It's been 114 days already since you've kissed him goodbye, you counted every day and got more and more frustrated.

It was already 11pm, you were on your couch eating a last bowl of cereals before going to bed. It's been yet another Friday other people went on dates with their significant other but you spent it alone.

First you thought it must be someone breaking into your apartment when you heard the door. You grabbed the first thing in reach to defend yourself, a half full bottle of water, and walked towards your hall. When you realized who stood in front of you, your hand let go of the bottle that hit the floor with a loud boom.

Jungkook smiled bright when he saw your shocked face. "Hello my love. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you, but I wanted to surprise you." You immediately ran into his arms, clinging onto him as if he'd disappear any second. Tears ran down your face when he wrapped his arms around you tightly. You couldn't believe that he was finally back at home, finally standing here and kissing your face while whispering how much he missed you.

You sobbed softly, stroking his cheeks and his neck, running your hands through his hair and back to his cheeks. "Your hair grew so much.", you said with a soft smile, you loved how cute he looked with those long curls. "Mhm they wanted to cut it but I told them that they'd have to fight you then so they shouldn't try."

A sigh left your body, you were finally at peace again. Your boyfriend was back. "Let's not stand in our hall all night hm? I prefer to sit down.", he grinned, kissing your lips softly and guiding you to the living room. He pulled you on his lap, placing soft kisses all over your face that tickled your skin. "Don't cry anymore hm? I'm here."

You nodded, but your tears didn't plan to stop for now. You were just so overwhelmed to have him here that you didn't know what to do first. "Ah Jungkook.", you whispered softly, not able to form any other sentence for now.

"I like it when you say my name.", he answered with a loving expression. You felt his hand stroking your hair behind your ear and you almost forgot how much his touch affected you. Every single time he made you relax with his presence.

"I-I missed you so much it was so horrible to be without you.", it blurred out of you. You didn't plan on telling him, because you knew he'd feel bad for making you sad, but you couldn't help it. "I hated every single day without you, I couldn't get distracted I missed you so so much it never stopped."

His gaze changed from happy to guilty. "I'm so sorry that I left for so long, I didn't have a choice. You know I want to be with you every minute.", he apologized, but you shook your head. "I know that, kook, I really do. I'm just so happy that you're back."

Jungkook stroked your back and leaned his forehead against yours. "I love you. I hope you know that.", he whispered to you. You slightly nodded. "I love you too. You make me feel loved and you make me so happy."

He stroked your cheek and leaned in for a long slow kiss. You missed how warm and soft his lips were, how good they felt on yours as if they were made for each other. "Why are you even here? I thought it would be another 2 or 3 weeks."

"I honestly couldn't handle being separated from you anymore and I managed to get them to let us go earlier.",he said honestly and began kissing you again. God, you loved him so much. Suddenly all your worries about how stable your relationship really was were gone, you only felt the deep love for him inside of you.

Your soft kisses turned to a wilder make out session when Jungkook pushed his hands under your shirt. "I missed your skin, I missed being close to you.", he whispered and pulled your shirt over your head. You weren't going to complain, the nights without him left you needy and even though you tried helping each other out on the phone, it just wasn't the same.

"Me too Jungkook please touch me.", you pleaded, pulling up his shirt too and wasting no time to open his pants. He grinned at you while he watched how you struggled with the button. He opened it for you when you whined in frustration and grabbed your hips to lay you down on the couch.

Jungkook hovered over your body, kissing your neck and touching every spot he could reach. His skilled fingers opened your bra within seconds that he threw away carelessly. "God you're so beautiful."

He began kissing down from your neck to your chest, leaving soft marks on your skin until he reached your breasts.

His big hands cupped and massaged them, making you moan softly. His eyes were glued to your face, watching your expression when he used his tongue on your nipples. "J-Jungkook please don't tease me." - "I'm not teasing you, I need time to enjoy every detail of you after such a long time."

You felt his lips kissing down your belly as he opened your pants and pulled them down together with your panties. For a moment he just stared at you, appreciating every detail of your body under him. You felt like his hands were everywhere at the same time, stroking your thighs and massaging your breasts but also teasing you between your legs.

You whined when he touched your clit gently, moving your hips in hope you'd get more friction. Jungkook smirked at how needy you were for him. "You're so much fun to touch." - "God please give me more I can't wait any longer."

He began to kiss your leg until he reached your clit, wrapping his arms around your thighs and placing kisses everywhere. His tongue stroked over you gently and you whined again, moaning his name and hoping he'd get the message.

What you didn't expect was his fingers teasing your entrance now, wasting not much time to enter you slowly. You moaned louder now, grabbing his hair and pushing his face deeper into you. You had no patience to wait until he'd stop with teasing.

Jungkook just chuckled softly in response, moving his fingers inside of you and starting to lick you. "I missed your taste baby.", he groaned while he moved faster. You held onto the couch, your eyes already rolling back in pleasure and you knew you wouldn't need much to reach your high.

"J-jungkook please don't stop I need to cum.", you pleaded and hoped he felt generous today. You knew your boyfriend loved to bring you to your limit, he loved edging you and making you beg but this time he just wanted to make you feel good.

"You can cum anytime babygirl I want to taste it.", he answered, picking up the pace and going harder now. His fingers hit your g-spot perfectly and you bit your lip, you knew the walls were thin and your neighbors didn't like listening to you two but there was no way that you could stay silent tonight. " Ohgod yes Jungkook fuck!"

You digged your nails into his shoulders now and he groaned in response. He loved that. "You turn me on so much. You can't imagine how much I wanted to do this every single night.", he admitted. "I thought about your moans and how you feel all the time it drove me crazy."

You wanted to answer him, to tell him that you felt the same way, but his words made you get closer to your orgasm and your brain wasn't in control of your words anymore. "Oh God ah close!"

Jungkook moved his tongue the way he knew you loved the most and brought you over the edge. Your body shook under him while you moaned his name loudly.

He helped you riding out your orgasm and licked his lips once he was done with you. You breathed heavily and felt like you needed a minute to calm down, but you didn't want to wait until then. Much to his surprise you got up and pushed him down, pulling his boxers away and revealing his already hard dick.

There was nothing that turned him on more than seeing you in pleasure. You wrapped your lips around his tip and pumped the rest of his dick with your hand. He groaned and watched how you took more and more in your mouth until he disappeared completely. "Fuck, you still take me like a good girl."

You looked up and nodded, a smirk on your face when you started bopping your head slowly. You scratched his abs and thighs with your nails and massaged his balls while you moved faster. His eyes were still on you as he grabbed your hair and guided your head. You let your jaw relax so he could fuck into your mouth easily.

His hips started thrusting up and he started to moan deeply as you felt yourself getting wet again. You loved how Jungkook used you and that was no secret. He noticed fast how turned on you got and pushed your body up to him. "Ride me."

"No, I am supposed to make you feel good.", you pouted. "There's nothing that feels better than to be inside of you babygirl I need that."

There was no way he had to tell you twice. You couldn't wait to finally feel him inside of you, to feel how he stretched you out and hit all the right spots to make you see stars. You sat on his lap and positioned his dick so you could slide down slowly. Both of you moaned again and you bit your lip.

He was big and you weren't used to it anymore, but it didn't take long until you rolled your hips and scratched his chest. "Fuck you're so hot.", he kept complimenting you and you blushed, it made you feel so good, so loved and cherished when he told you how beautiful you were on top of him.

You began to move faster and harder, you couldn't keep yourself silent even though you tried. Jungkook kept touching you on your most sensitive spots and you clenched around him every time. "Baby I'm close.", he moaned into your ear when he sat up to guide your hips.

"Cum inside of me please fill me.", you whined, scratching his back and marking his neck. You loved to leave your love bites everywhere, he was yours and you wanted people to know. "I'm close too."

Jungkook grabbed your neck and pulled you close for a long passionate kiss as you both came hard. Your body was shaking again but he held you close until your hips stopped moving. "I love you so much.", he said lovingly, kissing your neck and stroking your back, leaving goosebumps on your skin. "I love you too. I'm so glad I have you back with me."

#bts #bts au #bts scenarios #bts drabble #bts oneshots #bts fanfiction #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #jeon jungkook #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #BANGTANARMYNET

[kneamet]

Angel of cards (6/16)

Trigger Warning: yandere, obsession, obsessive thoughts, kidnapping.

Summary: Joker, Mr. J, anarchist psychopath, Tom Hiddleston. He had many nicknames. Joker was Gotham’s most dangerous and insightful man, with sharp makeup and horribly memorable scars on his face in the form of a smile. He was absolutely crazy and deadly. No one knows his real identity and everyone is afraid of his cruel jokes. But what happens when he becomes obsessed with an ordinary girl?

She belongs to him. No one can take her away from him. Even The Batman.

Chapter six: unpleasant actions

The Joker didn't particularly like the fact that his angel didn't even participate in his actions and their pleasures. Didn't she enjoy their first reunion? Wasn't she as happy about it as he was?

He was just giving her pleasure. And the Joker was pretty sure she was happy about it, too. As if she wasn't flattered by the idea of becoming one with him.

He knew that his angel was a virgin, and so was he. He was sure that she had deliberately kept her virginity for him, just as he had kept it for her. That would be a perfectly logical and understandable explanation.

The Joker had always wanted to enjoy those moments of their first touch. He had always felt that this was why they had such a strong bond.

The man, his fingers clenched on the sink until they were red, slowly, leaning on trembling hands, climbed to the square mirror against the wall. He pressed his lips into a thin line and looked closer at his image. He didn't particularly like the way he looked without makeup. It was as if his bad self was being removed by removing his makeup.

His hair, still green, no longer curled. He was not used to looking at himself in the mirror without makeup. He felt like a freak. Thin compressed lips, very stylishly bitten from teeth with stripped red skin. Those terrible scars marring his face. The only things Joker liked about his appearance were the purple suits he wore day after day and the blue ones with grayish and green hues.

But even though he didn't accept himself, he was sure that his angel loved him and would even be able to accept his appearance so much that she would like his bitten lips and scars, which sometimes still showed blood from their constant scratching. He kept touching them.

His angel. Oh, how he wanted them to make love again. The Joker didn't think it was rape. On the contrary, it seemed to him that this was how they expressed love. And what's the big deal about her resisting a little?

However, Tom didn't particularly like what the Joker was doing to Blake. Yes, the Joker was his personality, getting along with it, but what to consider a real rape-

The Joker shook his head quickly. What the fuck is this cute romantic waking up in his mind again. He chased him away, literally locked him in a dungeon.

Tom will not be able to break through and harm (release! shouted Tom in the back of his mind) to his angel. They can't get along. She is now only his and the Joker will not let anyone take his angel.

He sighed and stood up straight, reaching for the powder and paint with quick movements and shaking hands. White powder and white paint combined perfectly and it became very easy to wash them off.

The Joker began to act sloppily with paint, not even worrying about well-being. He didn't have to worry about anything that day, since he needed to visit his angel right now, and he was sure that she would stay with him for the whole day and no one would be able to stop them.

After finishing his makeup, the Joker put everything in the pockets of his coat. In the building in which he, with some of his assistants, began to live, it was quite cold. Although for his angel, he definitely gave the warmest place.

The Joker quickly left the bathroom and made his way to the kitchen with quick, basic movements. The kitchen was small. The man hadn't been here yet, but he immediately noticed the interior of the room, which had a colorful tile floor. On the walls are pasted wallpaper, painted even in some places.

The kitchen was not very well furnished. By the window is a small dining table, where one of his very close subordinates was sitting. Not that he was attached to him, but he was definitely smart. The Joker had a bad memory for names, but he knew the man's name very well. Robert Hill. He was not a particularly handsome man: dark-haired, with black eyes and a very thin build. However, the Joker only encouraged intelligence, strength, and courage. He noticed that Bob was smoking a Stutton. The man grimaced slightly. He just hated those cigarettes.

The Joker wasn't particularly interested in Robert right now. He was more concerned about his angel, who was probably hungry and begging for food.

To the left of the countertop is a kitchen stove with four gas burners and an oven hidden behind a glass door made of dark striped glass. On the right is a large bright white two-chamber refrigerator, on the doors of which a whole collection of magnets with landscapes is pasted.

Joker wanted to make them sandwiches. It was the lightest meal, and given that it was early, it was possible to take a light breakfast. Quickly slicing the bread and sending it to the toaster, which he did not know how to use, he continued to cut the food.

After a few seconds, the bread jumped out of the toaster and the Joker carefully put all the ingredients in it. I had to do two such operations.

Joker ate and slept very rarely, but for the sake of his angel, it was fashionable to sacrifice the usual daily routine and eat.

Quickly, like a hyena, he picked up the tray with a trembling hand, on which he had already placed plates and mugs of water, and ran lightly, like a tribute, to the door of his angel. It's their first dinner. It will be so wonderful! Their first meal together!

Joker quickly opened the door, holding the tray with one hand and closing it with the other. His angel had to be protected. And letting it out would be a rash decision.

The man put the tray on a small table that stood near her closet, opposite the door, quickly distracted from it. He turned back, looking for his angel.

He licked his lips when he saw her curled up in a ball. He saw her flanks move quickly and he heard a soft whimper. His eyes opened quickly and he ran to her with quick movements, hugging her.

"W-what?" his angel whispered softly, and he saw her look up at him with her lovely brown eyes. He could feel the bewilderment in them at first, but then it turned into fright and she tried to pull away again, which the Joker didn't allow, only tightening his arms and leading her to the table where the tray was. "What is it?"

The man saw the bewilderment in his angel's eyes, but he just put everything in its place, and he sat down at the table on an uncomfortable chair that was smaller than him.

Joker could see that the girl looked confused and afraid. He reached out to her with his hand and stroked her hand that didn't even resist his. With his gloved hands, he slowly rubbed the delicate hand of his angel. Ah, the Joker stifled a groan, she's amazing.

"Is he poisoned?" pulling his hand out of the Joker's grip, his angel asked, lowering his hand to his knees, continuing to hold the Joker's heavy and intense gaze.

He didn't particularly like the way she was dismissive of him. He didn't like it, but he wanted to calm her down. To say that everything is fine and he would not poison the food.

"Don't worry, my angel, death by poison is very boring, and I have no desire to kill you. I swear I love you with all my heart, " the Joker said, letting out a small chuckle.

He watched as his angel nodded, picked up the sandwich, and took a small bite. He licked his lips as he watched her eat. He eats slowly, gracefully, biting off small pieces, lowering his eyes down and striking with his submissiveness.

The Joker himself didn't eat anything. He wasn't interested in food, especially now that he had such a rare and lovely diamond in front of him. So beautiful.

He could see her wiping food crumbs from her mouth with the sleeve of her sweater and then shaking out her sleeves. His angel looked up at him with her beautiful brown eyes and said softly:

"What time is it now?" she looked down, apparently unable to look at the Joker, which he didn't particularly like. She must look at him! And give your precious attention only to him! His angel should be interested in nothing but him.

"11:11," Joker muttered automatically, watching intently as his angel got up from his chair and shook out his pants. Without even tasting his breakfast, he stood behind her, towering over his helpless angel in a way that wouldn't hurt a fly.

"Thank you for breakfast, Mr. Joker," his angel muttered, not really bothered by the Joker. After all, her beautiful and melodious voice was simply amazing, however, like herself. Her lovely lips continued to say something else, but he did not betray it.

Tom leaned into Blake and pulled her into a gentle and attentive kiss. He didn't bite her lips. Tom's kiss was soft and simple.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston gif #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x oc #tom hiddleston x original female character #tom hiddleston x ofc #yandere #yandere loki #yandere Tom Hiddleston #loki #loki x reader #obsessive loki #yandere loki x reader #obsession #obsessive #obsessive tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston as the joker #joker x reader #yandere joker #joker #batman #OC: Blake Dent #kidnapping #yandere tom hiddleston

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ NO WITHOUT YOU ❜

First part: Don't cross the line.

with Hank ‘Tranq’ Loza.

Warnings: none.

Word count: about 1.8k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: @sonsofeorl

Masterlist.

You were happy playing that tug-of-war through the years, feeling loved, appreciated and wanted. Feeling as if you were at home whenever he managed to hug you secretly, separated from the rest, imagining that you were completely alone in the world; with no worries, no fears, no unhappiness. Just you two enjoying the closeness, your skins, your scents getting mixed, your breathings dancing with the other. Just you two, alone. But he had to make it real. To push you out from your bubble, from your comfort zone. And now you're fucked, more than ever. Maybe you're acting like a coward, after days without stepping on the clubhouse, hiding yourself from him. Avoiding and declining his calls, not texting him back. Not opening the door when he comes to your house, even if he sits to wait for you for hours. You could never have thought that loving someone could be this painful. It feels like you're drowning, like when a wave swallows you and makes you roll towards the bottom. And no matter how many efforts you use to swim to the surface, because the wave pushes you down again, when you think that you are reaching it.

Pouring some tequila inside the small shot, you drink it by one gulp, feeling the burning sensation hurting your throat. Cleaning your mouth with the back of your left hand, you have a smoke from the cigar, with your eyes fixed on the horizon. The night has fallen down, covering the desert with his darkness but slightly illuminating it by the moon shine and all the stars spread across the sky. That would be the perfect night to die for love, if it weren't for the door that gets opened and closed in almost three seconds. With your legs curled against your chest and your chin resting over them, you have another drag waiting for your tío to step out to the small garden. He has seen you acting weirdly lately, but he didn't ask. And he didn't ask anything either, when you told him that you were going to stay at his house for some days. But finding you like that changes everything. Taking off the jacket of his suit and rolling up the sleeves by his arms, the mexican sits by your side, serving himself a shot. You rest your cheek over your knees, you watch him drink it in silence.

“It's okay if you don't want to talk with your father, mija, but talk to me, sí?” Marcus pulls away a tuft of hair, behind your ear.

“I'm in love, tío”. You mumble with your lips trembling about to cry again.

“Oh, mi niña”. He says hugging you with a fleeting smile appearing on his lips, in the meantime that his arms surround your body. “And why are you sad, ah? Being in love it's something amazing”.

“Being in love is a fucking shit”. You spit full of rage, with some tears touring your cheeks.

“Why do you say that? Is it not reciprocated? That man has to be fucking crazy to not fall in love with you, mija”.

“He does, tío. He does with all his heart”. You shake your head, pulling yourself away from his arms to look at him. “But… my father would never accept it”.

“Why?”

“Because… he is a Mayan. A brother. Part of the family”.

“Tell me it's not Ang—”.

“Shit, no”. You chuckle cleaning your cry from your face.

“Don't misunderstand me, he's a good man, but… I can't imagine you together”. He replies then with a soft laugh between his teeth. “So, are you going to tell me who is the lucky one?”

You doubt. You know he's not going to judge you, but you're not sure how he is going to react. Having a long, long smoke, until it drags your throat, you let it go through your nose.

“Tranq”. You just answer in a whisper.

Marcus leans back his head some inches, assimilating what you have said. The name you have given him. He's trying to remember some moments of you two together. Ephemeral caresses, some dearly and furtive smiles, pet-names in random occasions. He is starting to spin the situations, in a silence that makes you feel uncomfortable.

“Tío, say something…”

“You just…” He tries to speak, rubbing his chin with one of his hands. “How I didn't notice it before? Since when it's happening?”

“Since we met, six years ago”.

“Damn, mija! Six years? You two have been carrying this shit for six years? Hiding it from your father?” Marcus is really surprised, but you are not because of his reaction. “But, what is the matter? Why aren't you two together?”

“Do you think that my fa—?”

“Your father only wants happiness for you, mija. If he loves you, he will understand it. We don't choose who we fall in love with, or of who not”. He tries to make you understand, gently caressing the back of your head and your hair. “You should go to the clubhouse. Talk with them. Take charge of your life, mija. And stop hiding what you feel for what people could think. Even if it's your father who you are worried for”.

“I… drank six shots, tío”.

“I can take you”. Shrugging his shoulders, he stands up over his feet offering you a hand. “Take a shower, change that… horrible pajama and get ready. I'll be waiting for you here”.

Pursing your lips, you nod getting up from the grass, shaking your clothes before coming inside the house right to your room. You try to be quick, and the cold water covering your body is very helpful. Wearing black jeans, a crop top and a pair of sneakers, grabbing your phone and the keys of the house. Drying your hair again with a towel, you go out of the dorm looking for Marcus. You're literally shaking when you put the seat belt around you, facing the fact that you are really to end with your pain. That you are going to tell your father that you are in love and that he has to accept it, as your tío said. And when the black SUV reaches the front yard, you feel that you're about to die, seeing the older men sitting there and sharing some beers. Taza, Riz, Tranq and your father are staring at the car, watching you step out of it accompanied by Marcus.

Bishop is about to get up to greet you, but your raised hand towards him stops his moves, sitting down again confused and intrigued. Rubbing your face with both hands until your skin burns a little, you try to organize the words inside your head. But as much as you think about it, it only gets worse. Licking your lips, you first focus on your father.

“Dad… I love you and I respect you more than anyone, but I have to do something that you may not like it”.

Turning some inches towards Tranq, you bow your head for a second trying to breathe before looking for his eyes.

“These days have been a fucking shit without you. I'm sorry for not calling or texting you back. For not opening my door when you came. For avoiding you at all cost. For acting like a… fucking coward. But the truth is that I can't live without you. I don't wanna live without you. Not anymore. I love you. I've been doing it since six years ago”. In your speechless you can see how your father hits Tranq's chest, tangling his fingers in the green rosary, spitting some beer on the floor. If there's a level over being ‘fucking surprised’, your father is there. Totally maddened in silence, turning his face from you to his brother, once and again.

“It was you, cabrón?” He asks with both eyes opened too much.

“Bishop, list—”. Hank is about to defend himself, when your father throws himself to the floor, kneeling and his hands tangled in a huge fist.

“¡Por el amor de Dios, gracias!” (For God's sake, thank you).

Maybe it's the effect of the six shots you drank, but you're as lost as the crew is.

“Shit… All these years thinking you were with Angel… Oh, fuck!” He yells to the air, getting up and hardly breathing with a hand on his chest. “Oh, shit, mi vida. For a second I thought you came to tell me that you're pregnant or something like that. Fuck! I was on the edge of a heart attack”.

“See? I told you”. Your tío whispers into your ear.

“Oh, man…” Your father is laughing, starting to scare you because of his excitement, until he turns around to face Tranq showing him a serious gesture. “Because you haven't gotten her pregnant, right?”

“Bishop, I haven't touch her in sex years”. He just replies, getting up from his chair and leaving away the beer.

“But, do you love her or what?”

“Yes. Of course, I do”.

“Why yo—”.

“Dad, it's okay. We just… I think we need to talk”. You mumble, keeping your hands inside the pockets of your jacket, making a gesture with your neck towards Hank to follow you.

Biting your lower lip by a side, you start to walk right to the clubhouse. The most difficult part is done, and you can't stop thinking how stupid you have been. Setting him apart just for a paranoia. Just because your father might have retaliated against him. Coming inside, you wait for Tranq to close the door.

“I'm so so—”.

You can't finish the sentence when he takes two big steps closer, holding your face into his arms to crash your lips with his. You're about to falter, feeling the tears of relief filling your closed eyes. His tongue tastes much better when it finds yours, walking backwards through the hallway to the dorms. You need it. So he does. You can't wait for much more, blinded looking for the doorknob to turn it and open the room. His hands on your ass urged you to jump onto him, surrounding his waist with both legs.

“Fuck, mi vida…” He whispers lying down on his bed. “I don't give a shit about the distance, if you have to leave again”.

His voice breaks between short kisses, going down to your neck and his hands pawing your body over the clothes.

“I'm not leaving”. You gasp softly, taking off the leather kutte to throw it somewhere on the floor.

“What?” All his moves stop dead, pulling himself away for a second to look at you.

“I came because… I have a job offer in the hospital of Santo Padre. A permanent one”.

“You're not… leaving to New York again?” Simply shaking your head, you smile gentle, intertwining a hand in his necklace to push him closer.

“I wanna stay with you”.

“Of course you're staying with me, mi amor”.

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#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #hank tranq loza x reader #tranq loza #hank tranq loza #tranq loza x reader #tranq losa x reader

[spicymayo1983]

Hiya. This is chapter 17. You have returned to Yavin 4 to bury your baby daughter.

It's a time to reflect on your relationship and future together.

A revelation from Poe's past brings you closer together.

Warnings, angst, flashbacks of smut, grief, female receiving oral sex, loss of a child, not for anyone under 18.

Instead of bringing your new baby home you were burying her next to her grandparents.

You were sad and angry at the same time. Somehow you blamed yourself for the loss.

The ceremony was short and minimal. You were too heartbroken to even name her so instead the tombstone read "Baby girl Dameron".

After the funeral you and Poe stay by yourselves, you were staying with Kes Dameron and he was watching his grandson.

You're so grief stricken that you were silent. No tears, no emotion, nothing, you were too shocked to have a reaction.

"My heart is shattered". Poe confesses, the tears rolling down his cheeks. "Our little girl, gone, just like that".

"It's my fault, I know it is". You tell him, your voice devoid of emotion and your eyes blank and unmoving. "It has to be".

"No, stop it". Poe tells you, a slight hint of frustration apparent in his voice. "I hate how you always beat yourself up over things that you have no control over".

"You don't just lose two babies like that". You continue, as bitter tears roll down your cheeks. "You don't, you can't".

"Yes you can". Poe insists, his voice starting to shake from emotion. "I know, too well, believe me".

10 years earlier, D'Qar

He'd seen her around before and had enjoyed flirtatious banter with her before.

Her name was Reesayan Larchar, or "Rees" for short.

She was a beautiful, blonde haired rebellion captain, finally after knowing each other for awhile Poe asked her out.

Their relationship was a casual one, mainly he'd meet up with her to satisfy each other's sexual needs.

"Love" really wasn't there, but there was great sexual chemistry.

"Fuck, your cock is so huge".

"It is?"

Poe and Rees are fooling around late one night. They were both drunk and she was teasing him about being unable to fit most of his cock inside of her mouth.

With a slight laugh Poe rolls Rees over on her back, spreads her legs and started to lightly suck on her clit as he teased her wet hole with his finger.

Poe ate pussy like a pro. It was a known fact around the base. He loved doing it too.

Rees had sought him out because of the stories that she had heard.

Poe licked, sucked, fingered and tongue fucked her into a state of sheer orgasmic bliss.

With his mind clouded by alcohol, without thinking, he then rolled her over on all fours, grabbed her hips and just started pounding into her.

"Damn". Rees curses with a breathless moan as she could feel his large cock stretching her tight, wet walls.

"Do you want me to?" Poe asked with a slight smile, his gorgeous curly hair askew.

"Mmm, yes, go ahead". Rees moaned as she bit her lower lip.

Neither one of them was on birth control but Poe figured that once wouldn't hurt. He loved to cum inside of his partners, it felt more intimate to him.

Weeks later Poe received an urgent message from Rees. One time did hurt, she was pregnant.

Poe left the option up to her, and she decided to keep the baby.

They mutually decided to end their sexual relationship but co-parent the child together. It seemed like a win-win situation, Poe couldn't wait for his baby to arrive.

Her pregnancy went along smoothly, Rees was having a baby boy that they had planned on naming Vega.

The baby seemed to be doing okay. He was a little small but otherwise healthy.

Poe was there in the delivery room when she gave birth. The baby was completely silent when he was born, he knew immediately that something was wrong.

Their son never breathed a single breath or opened his eyes.

The grief was unbearable for both of them. Poe just cradled his baby boy and cried harder than he'd ever cried before in his life. Rees transferred out of D'Qar shortly afterwards and he never saw her again.

Present day

"Oh Poe, I had no idea". You tell him as you lean over and give him a tender kiss on the cheek.

"It's still hard for me to talk about". Poe explained, kissing you back, the tears rolling down his cheeks. "As horrible as these things are they really do just happen".

You move closer to Poe and put your arm around him. You look deeply into his eyes and tell him,

"I had no idea".

"It still hurts all these years later". He continued, hanging his head down. "He would have been 10 this year, I always think about what he would be like today".

The two of you share one of those intimate embraces that make you forget about your troubles for a little while.

"We've got to keep reminding ourselves to be strong for our son". You tell him softly. "Boe needs us".

"Of course". Poe replied with a slight smile. "He's our miracle child".

Poe's revelation about his lost son broke his heart. He's buried 3 children. Your son that you shared together was truly a miracle.

Boe is already sound asleep like a good little boy when you return to the Dameron family farm.

You're about a month postpartum. Your c section scar is fresh but healing well. You hate it because to you it represents a constant reminder of your loss.

Poe is already relaxing in bed, nude and on top of the covers, reading a book.

Seeing him like that makes you desire him, the way the low light reflected off of his smooth, tan skin.

And the graying hair, ugh, how dare he.

You just wanted to touch him, explore every inch of his body. But it was too soon to have sex.

You feel guilty for having these feelings. Snap out of it! You scream at yourself silently as you join your gorgeous husband in bed.

As soon as you lay down next to him Poe rolls over and wraps his arms around you in a tight, intimate embrace.

"Poe, we can't". You warn him with a slight laugh.

"I know, but I can please you other ways". He tells you as he starts to kiss and suck on your neck.

You know exactly what he wants. But you weren't feeling very comfortable in your own skin at that particular time.

"Everything is a mess down there". You tell him with a slight laugh. "It's not the same neat little pussy that you're used to seeing".

"Oh babe". Poe tells you as his kisses become more passionate. "It doesn't matter, I love your body but I love you most of all".

His hand slides between your legs and his fingers gently begin to tease and touch your wetness. The sensation feels almost electric, you haven't had pleasure like this in a long time.

"You need to cum". Poe whispered seductively into your ear as he continued to caress your wet folds with his fingers.

You roll over on your back, his head immediately goes between your legs, and he finds your clit.

Poe's lips latch onto your swollen clit and he starts to suck it gently as two fingers gently massage your wet hole.

When you cum your tight muscles grab onto his fingers and gush warm fluid all over them. Poe immediately pulls his fingers out and licks them clean, tasting every drop of your essence.

He then starts to lick, from your clit all the way down to the crack of your ass. Slow, deliberate, almost painful movements, you feel like he's devouring and tasting you.

When his tongue enters you the pleasure is too much and you scream his name as you climax hard.

One intense orgasm is all you can endure that night, afterwards you are feeling cuddly but extremely tired.

"I told you that you needed that". Poe whispered into your ear as he pulled you tight.

"You were right". You reply with a slight laugh.

You giggle as Poe begins to softly kiss you again.

The next morning you were planning on returning home, as you slept restlessly you couldn't help but fret about your future, and your health.

End of chapter 17

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron smut #star wars #star wars smut #poe dameron x you #poe dameron imagine #fanfic smut #fanfic #fanfiction

[ayellowcurtain]

Would you mind giving a description of the type of character sander is pls? I can't get a handle on him. At times he was inconsistent in s3(this is partially bc of the writing and partially) bc he was trying to conceal parts of himself from Robbe and exaggerating his personality to impress Robbe. The source material was a huge crutch in parts of this storytelling, then sobbe lost some spark in parts of wtfockdown, fanon help fill the empty spaces and now the transmedia is evolving him too. Help?

I’m gonna try to help you, anon but I guess what I’m gonna say is basically my opinion and so it might differ from what’s canon or what other people think of him and also gonna link you to some prior posts I already made talking a little bit of him: 

- Sander’s similarities with Eliott about how sometimes they struggle to deal with emotions 

- Sander and his parents, his home life and his relationship with them 

- Why was Sander going back and forth with Britt 

Now onto your real answer: 

I think Sander, as a character, is a solid one. He as a human being in some universe is imperfect, has his flaws and maybe his bad judgment at times, of situations and of people. 

Is not because he’s a fictional character that he needs to be perfect, to always say and do the right thing. 

If WTFock did him (and Robbe) dirty was mainly because of their complete lack of understanding of what pacing is. I don’t think season 3 was that badly written. It does has some horrible pacing at times, yes (OHN being on a Monday can only be a joke!!!!). 

I don’t think he was purposefully exaggerating his personality. I’m sure the Sander we now know isn’t exactly as loud and out there as we saw during the supermarket clip, for example. But he was freaking out, and being obnoxious without meaning to.

To me, it felt like was mostly freaking out, not sure what to do with himself because the boy he saw once during a random night was there, all alone with him, accepting to go out to go grocery shopping. 

That’s just an example but it’s the same behavior I see when he says they won after he shot Britt during the paintball scene, when he sings Bowie to Robbe while they see the girls walking away after the Noor x Robbe fight, or when he goes to Robbe’s place the next day and tries to kiss him. All this moments, to me, feel like a boy that doesn’t know what to do with himself, how to behave when he’s around someone he’s falling so deeply and hard for. 

We often see the Evens as these cool creatures, confident, sweet, chill. But we have to remember that’s just the first impression (and from their Isaks’ POV), and after they get to know each other, the Evens are often shy, insecure, kind of lone wolves to some degree. 

So what I thought could be seen as “inconsistent” of Sander was just him probably freaking out he was spending time with Robbe, the boy that the moon was shining on him and that Sander knew was the one. 

That’s why I assume putting “original” characters after two seasons feels a little bit like crutches (with their background stories) because if you think about it, we always know most of the characters in Skam since season 1, so even when they’re not main characters, we got to know them in the background at least, to get some information throughout the other seasons. 

We feel more connected to Robbe (and every Isak), and his background story because we’ve been hearing about it for two seasons. 

We know he has a messy house situation, we know his relationship with Jens is kinda platonic but also very brother like (with slaps, saying rude things to each other, etc), we know some people think he’s gay, we know he’s a caring friend because of the way he was with Jana during her season. All this information we got before his season. So when he was main, there was no need to build background around him because we already had most of these informations before. 

Sander is a complete stranger to us. And WTFock even gave us two episodes of just Robbe, to get to know him even more but also leaving less time for us to connect with Sander. So what we got of him was mostly WITH Robbe and ABOUT his feelings for Robbe. We know where he studies because Noor told this in ONE line.

The fandom often falls deeply in love with Even because of what we see through their lovers eyes and for how soft, caring, and representative he is (with being bipolar and pan) but I feel like we get more of who he is and his background in Sana’s season. We learn more about his past, his friends, his MI, his beliefs or curiosity about faith, etc. 

Even if we barely see him with the balloon squad, watching them we see the type of people Even (or Sander) would like to be surrounded with. 

I know people are not the biggest fans of Sobbe during WTFockdown, but I said this before, and I’ll say it again: I think I love them even more after. Even the cybersex part because I thought it was cute, the way Sander was saying he shouldn’t have pushed Robbe into doing it the past week, or how they look at each other and the things they say and how clearly they’re still trying to find the middle ground both of them are willing to experiment with. 

Anyway, I thought it was cute, and I thought it was necessary, with the conversations about the attack (WTFock made a horrible writing decision not letting this happen during the season, but at least they gave us something), about Robbe’s traumas that are still very much alive, about his mom and how well she’s doing most of the time, how Robbe is still trying to help her in any way he can. And also about boundaries, about Robbe, that same boy that was calling Sander the F word is now so out and proud, asking Milan about cybersex, talking to his friends about it (because he did tell the boys what they did or Aaron wouldn’t be trying to have cybersex with Amber and the boys wouldn’t be taking their clothes off for Sander’s bday). 

I think WTFock would use Sobbe for as much content as they can because they know that’s their golden couple. The Willems have a unique chemistry that’s out of this world, they’re both amazing actors and WTFock knows they’re solid, that the fandom will watch, engage in whatever these characters are involved in and that they boys will deliver every time, no matter how odd the circumstances are. The WTFock team knows they can give these boys a few lines and let they create a scene out of it and it’ll still be good content.  

After this long ass post I’ll have to tell you that Sander is:

Mostly private, reserved, some would say shy but I think he just saves himself the energy and the trouble so he only really engages with who he really wants. In this case, Robbe, and the people that are important to Robbe because, again, Robbe is the most important person. I really think (and hope) that when Sander keeps saying “it’s you and me, always”, he really means it. Like they’re one, a solid team that works so well together to tackle any and everything. 

A natural flirt. I mean, look at him, you know? And he doesn’t even have to try. And when he tries, it’s over for anyone else because he’ll be eating a marshmallow in that way he did with Britt, he’ll be kissing his girl like he wishes he could be kissing Robbe, he’ll be licking your ear, and dragging you out of a bar, purring please say at yours like no fucking other. 

He’s a full on artist. He loves any type of art, he loves talking about art, he loves doing art, painting, drawing, taking pictures, listening to music, thinking about all the intense colors. I’m sure he’s a very visual person in his brain too. If you ask him about how he’s feeling, it’ll be probably easier to draw what he fells than write. 

Again, nobody likes talking about this but Sander is a horny one. And he knows how to tease with the stepping back before Robbe can kiss him, he knows what to say, how to look at you with those shiny lips, wetting his lips with his tongue all the time, asking to have cybersex. And I’m also sure he’s really good at sex and enjoys it so very much. 

When you’re not Robbe, and when you’re not involved with Robbe, when Robbe doesn’t care about you, Sander can be hard like a brick. He’ll scream at you with no shame if you get under his skin because he really doesn’t care. He’s finally fully happy, with the guy he thinks is the one and he doesn’t want to spend a second of his energy with you so he won’t even try. 

I think he has a really small filter from what he thinks and what he says. Like when he says Robbe can bribe the teacher, or when firts with Robbe while Britt is taking a shower, or when he says they need to put some better music instead of making out with his boyfriend during the last episode. 

His “all the way or no way” line is basically words he lives by and he’s also a taurus, like myself, so he really means those words with any aspect of his life. 

He forgave Robbe so easily after the F word scene because 1) he’s a teenagers, he won’t be thinking as hard as the fandom did about it 2) again, it’s Robbe and he can get away with anything because Sander is completely gone for this boy that he won’t be able to stay mad even when he knows he should because he wants to be with Robbe, that’s it.

He and Robbe are very close, not only as boyfriends, I feel like right now, after everything that happened between Robbe and the boys and Sander with Britt (and probably the ballon squad) they’re very picky with trying to start new relationships, and they know they’re solid with each other, they have similar taste and opinions. Robbe softens Sander’s edges a little bit and Sander makes Robbe a little more confident in being himself, picking himself first. 

I hope this very long, ridiculous answer helps you a little bit, anon, don’t mind me getting carried away talking about characters I love :’D

#wtfock #sander driesen

[unsettledink]

Kinktober Day 15

Dormant

Prompt: Somnophilia

Word Count: 2664

Summary: It doesn’t matter how much Peter wants or tries, he’ll never have even a chance with Tony.

While he’s awake, at least.

(somnophilia, major consent issues, creeper Peter, marking, guilt for everyone)

*

Peter should have left twenty minutes ago. 

He knows this even as he continues to sit there, right next to Tony. He knows there's no good excuse for the way he's watching Tony sleep, the way he's actually on Tony's bed, the way he's thinking of— 

But Tony had wanted him there, he tells himself. Sure, he'd said he was sorry, that Peter shouldn't see him like this, drunk and exhausted and stumbling over his own feet, words slurring. Said that he shouldn't put any of that on Peter, but he'd let Peter half hold him up and get him to bed.

Said, sprawled out on the bed, his hand darting forward to catch Peter's wrist, "I'm sorry, kid. I'm so sorry; I should have done better, kept you safer. Shouldn't have let you die like that. Fuck, I'm sorry."

"Mr. Stark," Peter'd said, "it's okay, I'm okay. I'm right here, you didn't just let me die."

"Don't go," Tony's grip tight around his wrist. "Don't leave again, I can't— I'll figure it out, I will, I will. I’m going to get you back.”

“You did,” Peter had tried to tell him, over and over, but it’s like Tony couldn’t hear him, so— Peter had stayed. Tony dropped off—or passed out, he's not sure—shortly after. And then he still stayed.

He watches Tony sleep, all sprawled out and loose limbed, still frowning. It’s pretty creepy, he can’t deny that, but Peter wasn’t the only one that disappeared for a while. If he’s staring at Tony for more reasons than just… to know that he’s there, still alive and in one piece, well— no one else has to know.

Tony's shirt has ridden up, a pale inch or two of skin exposed at his hips. Peter can't look away from it, and he knows it's wrong. He knows what Tony would say if he was awake.

But he's not.

"Mr. Stark?" Peter says. Repeats himself, louder, when there's no response. "Tony," he tries, shaking Tony's arm at the same time; nothing. It's as safe as it will ever be.

It's so wrong, but Tony's skin is soft when Peter presses his fingers to that exposed strip. Tony doesn't move, doesn't react at all as Peter rubs over that spot, not even when Peter catches the bottom edge of his shirt and slowly, slowly pulls it up. His heart is in his throat with every inch he exposes, the terror that Tony will wake up and shove him away smashing up against this— this desperate, horrible want, need, and losing to it. He's seen Tony without his shirt, but this is different. This— this way, he can feel Tony, can feel how his skin starts to turn ragged with scars, thick and raised. Peter traces them, spreads his hand flat against Tony's sternum and there's no reaction at all.

He slides his hand back down and oh, it's so wrong, even more wrong, but when will he ever get another chance like this? Tony would never let him, never want him to, but Tony will never have to know.

Tony's dick is soft against his thigh when Peter drags his boxers down, just past Tony's ass. Soft to the touch too, almost velvety, and Peter shouldn't be doing this. He curls a little closer, looking up at Tony as he trails his fingers along it; nothing.

Well. Not quite nothing, because that softness is disappearing under Peter's hand, Tony's dick starting to harden. It's hot in his hold, smooth and nice and he— he can say he knows what Tony's dick feels like, now.

It's not enough.

Please, he prays, please don't let Tony come around, because there's absolutely no way to explain away Peter licking Tony's dick, tasting it. Ducking down and closing his lips around it as it hardens more, letting it slide into his mouth and oh my god, it's unbelievable. Peter moans softly, unable to help himself, and takes more into his mouth. He’s never done anything like this before, never had any part of anyone else inside him, and he really loves the fact that Tony gets to be the first. 

How would Tony do it if he was awake, he wonders. Would he tell Peter what to do, how he liked it? Or would he just lay back like this and let Peter do all the work, watching and waiting for Peter to impress him? Peter can't, he knows he can't, but like this Tony can't be disappointed. Can't watch him, judging and finding Peter lacking, can’t laugh at his first, probably terrible attempt at a blowjob. It's not like Tony's dick seems to mind, at least.

Maybe Tony would get impatient with how long Peter's taking, put his hands in Peter's hair and shove him down on it; Peter tries to fit more of Tony in his mouth, drooling as he fights not to gag. He can't, and he's glad Tony didn't see that. Tony's had so much sex that there's no way anything about it would be special with Peter, even if it's all special for Peter.

Peter's hard, his dick dripping precome onto the bed, smearing it against his stomach. He thinks about stroking himself, getting off like this, but his hand winds up lower, one spit slick finger pressing into himself. If he tries, if he closes his eyes and focuses on sucking Tony's dick, he can almost pretend it's Tony's fingers in him, opening him up. He can pretend it’s every one of his fantasies come true.

It's fucking pathetic, that's what it is. Sick, disgusting that he's doing this, that he's getting off on it, but he can't stop. He doesn't want to stop. Tony— Tony would tell him to stop, probably, if he ever let Peter get this far, and it isn't fair. He wouldn't even give Peter a chance, and how is he supposed to not take the chance to know what Tony tastes like, to know what Tony feels like in him?

He's breathing heavy when he finally sits up, slinging his leg over Tony and kneeling up. Tony's hard and wet, and completely unresponsive aside from that, even when Peter pokes him hard in the stomach. He's not going to wake up for this either, Peter thinks. Hopes.

What would he do it Tony did? Peter shudders, his mind all too quick to flash through a dozen scenarios, from Tony furious, sickened, telling Peter to get off him and get out of the tower and get his head on straight to Tony freezing, staring up at Peter and asking what's going on, what is Peter doing, hey kid, stop. There's so many variations on those, different degrees of Tony telling him it's wrong and he should stop and he should go and Tony doesn't want him, and they all feel so much more likely than the one desperate, hungry fantasy he has of Tony just grabbing his hips and fucking up into him. Telling Peter he'd known Peter was watching, waiting, known that Peter was enough of a slut to try something like this, known that Peter would be so tight and hot and worth it, coming in him and claiming him.

It's a stupid fantasy, the sort that only belongs in his bedroom, in his head; not here, not now. It doesn't have any relation to reality.

But oh, he can dream.

It hurts more than a little as he sinks down onto Tony's cock but Peter doesn’t care; it feels huge and so warm and better than he could have imagined. He gives himself a minute once his ass is resting on Tony, once he can feel all of Tony inside him, just a minute to adjust. To watch Tony, completely still aside from the way his breathing has gotten a little faster, the tension in his face all gone, and it’s reassuring to think that even if Tony doesn’t know what’s happening, he’s still getting to enjoy it. It’s still making him feel good. That’s all Peter really wants.

He knows that Tony would never do this, never want him to do this— not never want him at all, because he thinks he knows what the look in Tony’s eyes is, every now and then, the way his gaze lingers on Peter, but he knows that Tony will never act on it. 

Peter would. If Tony ever asked, ever hinted, even so much as looked at him in that way, Peter would, without hesitation. But he won’t. 

It’s awful and Peter knows it, is ashamed that he can think it at all, but sometimes— sometimes, when he gets off, he thinks about how he could make Tony act on it. Even if Tony was awake, Peter could get Tony to fuck him, and he might not even have to web him up to get it. But Tony would never look at him the same after, never treat him the same and Peter can’t stand the thought of that, of losing what they have. 

He wishes he could kiss Tony.

When he starts fucking himself on Tony's dick, he looks up at the ceiling and wraps his hand around his dick and goes for it. Does it just like he wants Tony to, hard and fast and hurting a bit, and pretty soon he can't keep back the noises he's making, the moans and gasps that are just coming out of his mouth. They don't wake Tony either, but Peter's almost past caring if he does. It'd be bad, it'd be so bad, but— it's too late now, what would Tony even do? What could he do that would be so much different than this, Tony's hips moving in his sleep, jerking up into Peter? Could he stop himself from fucking Peter, stop himself from coming in him, just like that, oh fuck, just like— Peter can feel it, had no idea he'd be able to feel Tony coming in him, the way Tony's dick twitches at the edges of his hole, the pulse of pressure deep inside him.

"Fuck," Peter moans, his hand flying on his dick, clenching down, and he comes all over Tony. He stares down at the mess he's made, and it's shocking, obscene that he's done that, he's fucking defiled Tony like that. And so, so hot.

He leans forward, Tony’s dick sliding out of him, and presses his lips to Tony’s. It’s not really a kiss, not with how Tony can’t respond to it, but his lips are warm, parted just enough for Peter to lick into Tony’s mouth, catch the taste of booze. It’s not a nice taste, but Peter doesn’t really deserve anything better.

Oh god, he really doesn’t, and it’s like that snaps some last thread of control in him. He kisses Tony again, and again, hard, mashing his lips against Tony’s unresponsive ones, grabbing at Tony’s head and tilting his back until Peter can kiss him better, can fuck his tongue into Tony’s mouth. He grabs one of Tony’s hands and pulls it up, wrapping it around his back like Tony is actually holding him, wanting him, and it’s all— he’s so awful, everything he’s doing is awful but if this is the only way he can ever have Tony, he’ll take it. 

He could fuck Tony like this; Tony’s heavy, lax, but Peter could move him around easily. He could wrap Tony’s legs around him, bend Tony in half and fuck him— or he could flip Tony over and have him that way, web him down so he wouldn’t move and Peter could fuck him over and over, could come in him and pretend it was because Tony wanted him to, Tony asked him to. Oh god, he could, and Tony would feel so good, would give in to it so easily—

Fuck, what is wrong with him? He can’t, he won’t. He won’t. 

Peter’s hard again, his dick sliding along Tony’s stomach as Peter ruts against him, rocking his hips fast and grinding down. He won’t fuck Tony like this, but he wants to, he wants to have every last first he can with Tony. He’s disgusting and he knows Tony doesn’t want him, doesn’t want this, but he doesn’t care.

He can’t kiss Tony anymore, just gasping against his lips as he gets closer; Peter buries his face in Tony’s neck instead, his eyes prickling. He never, ever wants Tony to see him like this, to know what Peter is willing to do. 

Never, whispers a tiny part of his mind, never ever? Not even a bit? Not even if it means you can have this again and again, and it’s true, god, it’s true that there is some part of him that wants it. Wants Tony to know just how much Peter wants him, needs him, what Peter would do for him. 

He shudders as he comes, spilling another load all over Tony, and in that moment after, that breath he finally draws, he bursts into tears. Stupid, loud, half hysterical tears, and this, this he really truly never wants Tony to know about, about the way he burrows into Tony’s shoulder and sobs on top of him, Tony’s arm slipping away from his waist. He can’t stop them, only muffle the sound. It’s awful.

Peter's shaky when slides off Tony, curls on his side next to Tony and looks at him, still dead to the world. He sniffs, rubbing at his eyes; he’s not crying anymore, but it feels like it’s just because he’s so worn out he doesn’t want to move at all. He should clean Tony up, make it as though this never happened. Or— it's filthy and wrong, but he could leave Tony like this. Leave him with his dick out and tacky with come, Peter's come dried on his stomach and chest. Leave him to wake up tomorrow and— what?

Would he be too hungover to even notice, really? Would he wonder what had happened, who he'd gone to bed with? Maybe remember that Peter had been there, before, and put two and two together? What would Tony do, if he thought that had happened? Would he say anything, or pretend it didn't happen?

Peter could stay. He could go to sleep like this, let Tony wake up next to him and there'd be no denying anything. Maybe Tony would believe it if Peter said he'd been interested too, that it hadn't all been Peter. Maybe he'd turn to Peter and kiss him and go again, just like that.

Maybe he'd kick Peter out.

He shivers. This, like this it's safe. There's no chance that he'd do something wrong, that Tony might reject him. Peter can just have this, without having to fight for it. He could keep having it.

It's wrong, It's wrong and he knows it, but— he doesn't want to take the chance Tony might tell him no.

He’ll get up in a minute and go, he’ll leave Tony like this and— and he doesn’t know what will happen. He can’t know. 

But he wants— he wants something that Tony can’t wash off, can’t pretend didn’t happen, if that’s what he chooses. He wants something Peter can see the next time the meet, something that only Peter knows about. 

He presses closer to Tony, his mouth on Tony’s neck. Not there, or there; higher, so it can’t be hidden, further back, so Tony won’t see it when he looks in the mirror. Right there, that’s perfect, perfect. He bites at it, gently, sucking at that spot. It’s not dark enough when he pulls back, so he sets his mouth back against it and bites harder. 

Tony doesn’t stir, so Peter pushes more, and more, his breath shuddering out against Tony’s skin. This is his, this is his mark, just one more thing he’s given to Tony.

Just one more thing Tony never has to know about.

#starker #tony x peter #peter has some issues #yikes boy #for once the sleeper is not the bottom #kinktober #my work #fanfiction #somnophilia #angst #bottom!Peter #consent issues #ironspider #peter x tony #tony stark x peter parker #mcu #spiderman #iron man

[stardust-and-blades]

Hi love! I was wondering if you took emergency requests? I know you mostly do Klance, and I love them! But, a week ago I was verbally sexually harassed by my friend. It made me self conscious about my sexuality. (I'm a lesbian btw) and last night I had a nightmare that my friend...r**ed me. Do you think I can have Keith and Lance comforting the reader after waking up from this nightmare. Maybe Keith reminding her that there's nothing wrong with being gay? If you can't I understand. Thank you sm!

Hello there! First, I wanna say how sorry I am you had such a horrid nightmare and dealt with being harassed. That is not okay from anyone, even if they are your friend. I hope they leave you alone. I am a bisexual woman and though I have not experienced your exact situation, I have dealt with judgement from family. It isn’t fun and can do a lot of damage.

Secondly, I do not normally take reader requests. Personally I am not a fan of second-person. Like you have seen, I write mostly fanfiction from a third person point of view, and occasionally first person. I do not consider myself skilled in said POV, it is hard to convey, a bit confusing, and not my cup of tea. HOWEVER, I will try my best with what I can come up with!

Do be lenient with me, this may be a disaster >_< But if it’ll help, I’ll lend my hand to you.

Remember, you are not alone and there is nothing wrong with you. Love is love. 

Now, *cracks knuckles and bREAKS NECK* Lets try this out

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

When you wake up, you’re in a cold sweat. The air around you is stifling. The blankets heavy, and for a moment you wonder if your bed is actually a coffin, ready to bury you away and suck the life from your bones until all that remains is a shell of a human.

You wipe your brow, slick with the remnants of the nightmare still lingering, a vivid, broken record player repeating the same horrible fear your so-called friend instilled in you.If you could reach in your head and pull out memories, you’d do it in a flash, removing the filthy, disgusting, wretched thing daring to plague your thoughts. It was real. Far too real. Yes you have been stressing about the incident for awhile, but you didn’t think it would be bad enough to enter what one would usually call a solace. A safe place among a reality ruled by chaos.

You switch on the light by your bedside, driving the shadows licking at your feet back to where they came from. You move out of the covers, feeling suffocated, and sit there, hearing nothing but the hum of the lamp and your erratic heartbeat.

You have closed your eyes, trying to think of something else. Something happy and comforting, but you just can’t get rid of this sense of...wrongness. The feeling of being and outlier and wondering if the nightmare lead to a truth.

You are so into your head that it takes you a couple minutes to realize you aren’t alone.

A red and blue hue glimmers against your eyelids. It is not harsh like the notifications of your phone, nor bright enough to make you assume your overhead lights were switched on. You peak through your dark eyelashes, sleep lingering at the corner of your eyes and a curiosity pushing aside the demons for a bit.

When you look, two very familiar boys stood before you. One with dark hair curving at the nape of his neck and eyes resembling the cluster of stars amidst a dusk night. The other with a darker skin color, tall and lanky, and the irises mirroring the seas of the beautiful and unknown. They smile, posing no threat or ill-intention. You do a double take, seeing if they would disappear the moment you blink, their bodies translucent. But they remain, the taller boy’s smile broadening ever slightly.

“You’re--”

“Lance,” he winks. “And this fireball is Keith. We heard your distress.”

“My...distress,” you say carefully. “This--this isn’t real. You guys are fictional. I must be dreaming still.”

“No, no dream.” Lance shakes his head, pointing to the window. “We are from the stars. I was going to come alone, but Keith over here is a sad pup whenever I leave.”

Keith rolls his eyes, nudging him with his elbow. “You know why I’m here, jackass.”

“Because you love me?”

“Literally not the point.”

“So you DO love me.” Lance’s eyes were practically sparkling.

Keith rubs his eyes, sighing. “I question my taste in men.”

Lance juts out his bottom lip, ocean blues big and watery. “How rude! And after I gave you a cute purple lion at the faire.”

You couldn’t help it, you giggle. It is funny to see the interaction take place, your focus less on your nightmare and more at the boys bickering, though with love placed in their hearts. It was nice, seeing something so natural. Sweet, even. It makes you feel less abnormal, though the slithering thing in your gut turned to remind you of why you are awake in the early hours of morning.

You cringe from the reminder, the boys noticing and quiet their conversation. They ask what is wrong, and you tell them as best you could without breaking into tears, though it proves challenging.By the time you’re finished, they are sitting by you, attentive and sympathetic, Lance offering his hand for you to take and Keith telling you you do not have to go into details. That is the great thing. They listen. Not once do they interrupt, shame you, or display signs of disappointment. They care not of why they were called, but genuinely concerned, the pain all too familiar.

You spill everything out. Even your insecurities. How you love girls rather than boys, your worry if the friend was right, whether there is something wrong with you or not. If you are someone in need of fixing; in need of divine intervention like so many have preached on television and on the streets. If you should force yourself to like boys rather than girls, and if you are deserving of love if you go against the hetero-normative standard friends and family kept badgering for.

They listen. But more importantly, they care.

“It’s scary,” Keith starts. “Not knowing if you belong. Being different. There is this whole expectation of you built up the moment you’re born, and if you don’t fulfill those expectations, it’s a gamble to be you. You don’t want to lose people, because you love the idea of being accepted. But you hate denying who you are, because it’s like slowly dying.”

“You love being loved. it’s a lot easier, but the closet you shoved yourself into becomes cramped.” Lance adds softly.

“I’m not you, and you are not me.” Keith says, looking to the sky. “We are very different. But if there is one thing I learned in my short life, being loved for all of you is the best feeling in the world. Being who you are, being what is right in your heart, it’s the wings you need to fly.”

He moves his gaze to you, and gives a warm smile. “Being gay--being you--is okay. There is nothing wrong with loving girls. You deserve to find love, even if it’s in a girl. Which would you rather be, feigning a marriage to a man and be miserable, or kicking the big man in the balls and smooching the hell out of the girl next door?”

“Keith, a true man of wisdom and words.” Lance jokes, earning him a flip of the bird. Lance smirks, it melting into understanding and kindness as he turns to you. “He is right, though. Honestly, that friend of yours can take a hike. You don’t need that negativity in your life. You deserve way better. And I mean five star better, not the bare minimum. Do not settle for less, go on and kiss the girl of your dreams. If I were to have remained closeted, I sure wouldn’t have been able to be with that man over there.” 

He points to Keith, the dark haired boy blushing. Lance then grabs some tissues nearby and wipes away your tears. Keith brings you water, and they remain by your side until you felt comfortable and sleepy enough to curl back into the covers. The boys tuck you into bed, and you are hit with a wave of melancholy, for you know they are about to leave.

‘Don’t look so sad. Chin up, buttercup.” Lance rustles your hair. “We aren’t leaving forever. We will be with you every step of the way. When the hours are late and all seems frightening, just know we are beside you. You may not be able to see us, but we are there.”

Lance grabs Keith’s hand, Keith squeezing back and not letting go. “you’re not as alone as you think you are.” Keith says. “Your found family is out there, excited for you to enter their lives. Hold onto that hope.”

“And no one is going to hurt you.” Lance continues. “Guard yourself and stay away from that friend of yours, if you can call them that. You are not a toy. You are a human being, and you should be treated like one.”

“Call on us if you need anything.” Says Keith. “We will be there.”

And so they were until you closed your eyes, filled with nothing but sweet dreams and a sense of a weight being lifted from your chest.

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

I really hope this helped a little bit, dear reader. If you feel in danger, please contact someone you trust or report it. The behavior of your friend is not acceptable and should not be tolerated. I’d deck them in the face if I could 

You are loved. You are strong. You are a badass.

Sincerely, Shania