#god what the fuck is wrong with me and why does this bother me so much

[certifiedl0verboy]

twelve days of kolowv: day 12

my baby @theapocryphaofantares's birthday is in twelve days, and because i love him with all my heart he gets a small microfic every day until he gets his big present on his actual birthday.

day 12: note | jegulus | words: 994

Regulus is going to kill James Potter.

He doesn’t know when he’ll do it, or how he’ll do it, but just know that he will do it at some point.

James sits behind him in the one class that they have together, which is some bogus history course that Regulus is taking as an elective. Why James is taking this class? He has no idea, considering that James is in the science program and more than likely finished all of his pre requisites. He tries not to pay attention to James—he ignores him the best that he can.

However, since day one of this semester, James has gone out of his way to throw little pieces of paper at Regulus’ head. It’s annoying, especially when Regulus turns around and sees James with a stupid grin on his face like he won something. Sometimes he’ll do it twice, but usually when that happens, Regulus will choose to not even bother to look back. He refuses to give James that satisfaction.

But today? Today, James does it three times. It’s been two months of this, and yeah, sure, once, Regulus expects it. Twice? It’s rare, but it does happen. Three? That makes Regulus want to rip James’ head off of his body. He turns around while the professor is still talking away about ancient civilization and gives James the deadliest glare he could.

“What?” Regulus hisses at him. “What do you want?”

James leans forward, and that horrible, god awful smirk growing on his face. “Your attention.”

Regulus is baffled, because what kind of answer was that?

“So you throw paper at my head?”

“If you bothered to actually open them up, you’d see that they’re notes.”

“What makes you think—”

“Is there a problem over there, Mr. Potter and Mr. Black?” Professor Slughorn asks, raising an eyebrow. Everyone has their heads turned to them, and Regulus can feel his face growing warm. “Anything you’d like to share?”

“No, not at all, sir,” James replies. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Professor Slughorn takes a few seconds before speaking again. Regulus shifts in his seat, looking around to see if he can at least try and move to a different area where James wouldn’t be able to follow and sit behind him next time. He goes back to taking his notes, scribbling whatever words were coming out of Professor Slughorn’s mouth. The only reason why he stops is because he feels something hit his head again, and he sees the crumbled paper fall next to his foot.

Regulus sighs before picking it up. He carefully opens up the crumbled piece of paper and frowns because he can’t fucking read what this note even says. It’s all shitty handwriting and creases and smeared blue ink. Regulus looks behind him to see James give him a confused look.

“What does this even say?” Regulus whispers, holding up the note to show James.

“It says meet me after class.”

Regulus turns his attention back to the front of the classroom where Professor Slughorn is passionately speaking to a student who had just asked a question. He looks down at the note in his hand and runs his thumb over the words, shaking his head.

* * *

“What do you want?” Regulus asks James once class is over.

They’re standing in the hallway of the lecture hall, trying to stay out of the way of everyone leaving.

“Is it wrong to just want to talk to you?”

“Do you have a reason to talk to me?”

“Do I need to have a reason?” James asks, smiling. Regulus rolls his eyes, because he’s not going to fall for this shit. Absolutely not. He’s not going to fall for James’ toothy smile and how his chocolate eyes glisten in this stupid yellow light from the hallway ceiling and he’s definitely not going to fall for the way that James runs his fingers through his unruly hair. “I just wanted to say hi, check in, see how you’re doing is all.”

“And that warrants you throwing paper at my head?”

“I told you there were notes,” James replies, shrugging. “Not my fault you didn’t bother to actually look at them. There were some important things I said, too.”

“Can you just cut the bullshit and tell me what you want?” Regulus asks. “I don’t have time for this, I have another class to get to—”

“Go on a date with me,” James says, cutting him off. “Just one.”

Regulus is frozen in place, because that’s definitely not what he was expecting to come out of James’ mouth. James Potter, his brother’s best friend, wants to take him out on a date and Regulus wants to refuse. Oh, he wants to see James crumble at him saying no—

“What were in the notes?”

“Me trying to ask you out on a date.”

“Why?” Regulus asks.

“Why not?” James rebuts. “Let me show you a good time. I have it all planned out.”

“What makes you think I’m going to say yes to you?”

“Because you won’t say no.”

“Excuse me?” Regulus asks, baffled.

“You heard me,” James says. “You won’t say no.”

And Regulus hates that James is right. He steps closer to Regulus, bringing his hand on Regulus’ face and tilts his chin up, making eye contact. Regulus can see the determination in his eyes, and he’s practically speechless at this point because he didn’t think that James would be this fucking ballsy. He should’ve known better, though. When James Potter wants something, he won’t stop until he gets it.

“Fine,” Regulus murmurs, pulling away from James. “Just one.”

“Perfect,” James says. “I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something nice.”

Regulus watches as James walks away from him, and for Christ’s sake.

Regulus is so fucked.

#kolowv tag <3 #12 days of kolowv #microfic #jegulus #starchaser #fanfiction #the marauders #the marauders era #james potter x regulus black #regulus black x james potter #sunseeker #india's writing #james potter #regulus black #harry potter

[i-guess-im-into-this-now]

The Apothecary Diaries

S1E18 First Watch

Here's where I watch The Apothecary Diaries for the first time and give my thoughts, analysis, predictions, and occasionally I stumble into a joke.

To start at the beginning:

Episode 1

My character/locations cheat sheet

Suiren - Jinshi's attendant

Lakan - master strategist

Pairin - one of the princesses at Verdigris House

Luomen - Maomao's physician father

Meimei: one of the princesses of Verdigris House

Suirei: court lady who doesn't like Maomao

Woah. Okay so that's a loaded exchange.

Jinshi: How does one decrease the value of a courtesan? Maomao: In the case of pregnancy, it would reduce it to nearly zero.

There are 7 seconds of silence in this show after that. Yes, I used a stopwatch to time it. That is a freaking insane pause.

Jinshi makes a move to... I don't know exactly, reach out maybe? Reassure Maomao that he's not planning on doing this? I'm not sure. There is a shit ton of subtext to this conversation, that I'm not sure I have completely figured out but I will try.

Jinshi is the more obviously bothered by this statement, by a lot. Maomao is just observing to see how Jinshi responds to it. Essentially what she says is that a man could rape a courtesan and impregnant her to bring her value down, to ruin her. It would bring her value so low that anyone could afford to buy out her contract at that point. Jinshi has not provided any context to why he asked this question, and Maomao is studying him closely to see what he does with the information. I don't believe she thinks he would do this personally to a courtesan, or she wouldn't have told him. But as it appears, they've arrived at a brothel where Jinshi stopped her before going inside to ask this very fucked up question. She has to at least examine the possibility that she is wrong about Jinshi. And I think he passes her scrutiny, but not without damage done. She's disappointed that he is planning on going into this brothel, and that he asked such a depraved question. It hits particularly hard, because just prior to this they were having a nice moment where she opened up about her father. Now she is likely backtracking, either wondering why she bothered, or scolding herself for behaving inappropriately.

As for Jinshi in this scene, he hasn't revealed why he wants the answer to this particular question so badly. But boy does he want it. He let himself and Maomao fall into Lakan's trap just so that Lakan would tell him the answer. But Lakan didn't answer. Instead Jinshi asks Maomao, knowing that the question is inappropriate. He risks damaging the regard between the two of them so that he can get this answer. He's risking widening the rift between them. But why? What use is this answer to Jinshi? Does this have to do with the story Lakan told? Is he concerned about what may have happened to a courtesan in the past? To Maomao's mother? Is there a courtesan in the present that Jinshi is concerned about? Who can say.

In any case, Jinshi can see the damage that asking it has caused. He tries, I think, to backtrack, but it's too late. Maomao is retreating from him. She wants to flee, this conversation hurts for reasons she doesn't want to examine. Thank god Jinshi is emotionally intuitive. He can't let her walk away like this. The rift between them is too large, there is no telling if it could even be fixed if she leaves now. Jinshi grabs her arm.

Jinshi: You're leaving me now?

Maomao explains that her presence would compromise whatever plans he has in the restaurant. And Jinshi has to agree that makes sense, even if he can't put into thoughts or words why his heart is breaking right now.

Jinshi's critical error in this moment is that he is trying to keep Maomao out of what he's up to. He wants to protect her from whatever he's involved in, yet doing so is harmful too. He never tells her why he is visiting this place. He never explains why he asked the question. She is left to fill in the blanks with her own assumptions, with devastating results. In his effort to protect Maomao, Jinshi has harmed her. Jinshi cares for Maomao, but he hasn't learned to fully trust or respect her. And there will never be a relationship without trust. He's still got a lot of work to do before a real relationship can happen.

Maomao: It's fine. I didn't show any emotion when I spoke.

Maomao!!!

Her heart is breaking here too. I'm only surprised she is willing to admit it to herself. Perhaps the anguish of this moment has become too great to deny? For as sad as this scene is, that Maomao is aware and acknowledging her emotions is a major breakthrough! I suspect she's in for some painful moments now that she has to feel her pain, but you can't heal what you don't feel. She's on a path of healing now! Yay!

Oh my god, she even turned around to watch him walk into the building. So good Maomao. You're doing great girl!

Maomao: I truly hope you enjoy your evening good sir.

Maomao you dirty little liar!

Okay so maybe we only get to see a tiny step forward for Maomao, but a tiny step is still progress! I'm just so happy to see anything that pokes past the impasse that Jinshi and Maomao have been stuck at for ages.

The fuck kind of nightmare was that?! No wonder Maomao doesn't like to feel her emotions if she gets horrible flashbacks. Was she the baby in that scene? It looked like someone who was horribly injured tried to kill a baby. Apparently they couldn't go through with it. Was this Maomao's courtesan mother? Was she burned or scarred in someway? Perhaps to bring down her value? Or was the baby the product of rape? Was she trying to get rid of the baby to allow her to what? Return to being a courtesan? Seems unlikely with the injuries. Because she hates how the baby was conceived? Because the baby reminds her of the man who did this to her? Maybe to kill the baby so it couldn't be abused by someone else? Maybe because the woman in the scene was planning to kill herself after killing the baby?

Maomao looks at her hand, then thinks about the conversation she had with Jinshi yesterday. She then says of the nightmare that she brought it up. So there is a connection between the conversation and the nightmare. I'm guessing that what Jinshi asked about is exactly what happened to Maomao's mother, which triggered her memory. Why look at her hand? Does this have anything to do with her bandaged arm? Does the neglect or abuse of her mother have something to do with Maomao's low self-worth and the reason she is willing to self harm for her experiments? Or is she looking at her hand just to ground herself in reality, to try to fight back the traumatic memories?

After being awoken by her nightmare, Maomao is comforted by the familiar sight and routine of her father working in the apothecary. He asks her to take a package to Verdigris House.

This is maybe as good a time as any to ponder if Maomao's connection with Verdigris House is greater than that of an apothecary. I mean clearly it is, she considers the people here to be her family. But could she have had blood family that lived here as well? Was her mother one of the courtesans? I think that has been hinted at fairly strongly now.

Maomao is welcomed back with open arms. I'm so glad too see it. When was the last time someone gave Maomao a hug? Was it the last time she was here at the brothel?

Pairin is being harassed by granny to make a choice on something, and Maomao uses the opportunity to sneak away.

Pairin: Is she going to the annex?

I fricking hope so! I've been waiting for this!

Okay, so the annex is part of Verdigris House. And it looks identical to the room in Maomao's nightmare. So this must be where Maomao's mother lived. Perhaps where she died. And Maomao lived here, at least as an infant. How did she end up with Luomen?

Oh shit! Her mother is still alive?! But in a terrible state. She has some terrible illness. And it's not confirmed that this is her mother, but isn't it implied? Either way, Maomao used to be chased out of here by this angry person though it seems she no longer has the energy.

And hold on, I remember a scene from the last time Maomao was in the Verdigris House where granny asked her to tend to what I thought was just an ill courtesan, but perhaps it was this person in the annex.

Maomao's mother patient seems to be in the end stages of her illness. She no longer has energy to even speak. Luomen's once effective treatments don't offer relief, and there is nothing more that can be done. Though she may have been dealing with her decline for a long time Maomao will soon have to deal with the death of her mother. This may not be a healthy relationship, but there will still be grief. We grieve for people even when it's complicated. We also grieve what could have been, what never was. And there is never a good time to lose someone, but certainly some times are worse than others. Much of Maomao's life is uncertain right now, and she just took an emotional blow from her interaction with Jinshi, causing her to dip into the emotions she tries to avoid, now this on top of it. When it rains, it pours.

There is a troublesome customer visiting the Verdigris House. Meimei has been tasked to meet him. How foreboding. It couldn't be Lakan could it? His history with courtesans makes me ill.

Okay so maybe this lady isn't Maomao's mother, maybe she is. Maomao explains that the woman has syphilis. At least Verdigris House takes care of their own. I love that. Luomen may have been able to do something for this woman if he had arrived to serve the brothel during an earlier stage of the illness. There is a flashback here, where we get a glimpse of young Maomao in the brothel. No one trusted the eunuch doctor from no where, even if he could have done something. After contracting syphilis, the lady had to go on serving customers until the sores spread over her whole body, and she was locked up in the annex.

The woman tried to hum a tune, but is unable to to speak. I wonder if Maomao recognizes it.

Little girl: Big sis wanted you to know that the weirdo with the monocle is here, so you should avoid going out there for awhile.

Oh no! It is Lakan! Why is this little girl telling Maomao specifically so she can avoid him? Does he have a history with Maomao at the brothel? I'm trying to recall all of the things that Lakan said about the courtesan he used to visit at Verdigris House. That he could beat her at shogi, but not go. That she never sold herself but that she had an arrogant expression... I mean, I could be looking into it too much, but that... could be Maomao? Did she work as a courtesan here before? Is this why Jinshi is so determined to find out how someone might have reduced the price of a courtesan?! Did he know she used to work here? Does he worry that something terrible has happened to Maomao here? DID IT! Oh my god! It would explain so much about her fear of working as a courtesan, and her trauma. What the fuck happened in this brothel?! And who all knows about it! I demand answers!

I'm going to pull it back a little bit, and return to an earlier theory that Lakan is actually Maomao's biological father. He may have a history with Maomao at the brothel but that may be as a man who was somewhat interested in the daughter he fathered. Understandably, Maomao wants nothing to do with him. We learn here that Maomao knows who Lakan is though. Thank god they didn't run into each other in the palace. Can she really go on avoiding him? He can follow her in the palace or in the Pleasure District.

Maomao refers to Lakan as a long time customer of the Verdigris House, an old acquaintance, but that if she just stays put in the annex, she won't run into him. Okay, but tell me why you don't want to run into him....

Maomao has had a rough day. She's still reeling from her conversation with Jinshi and now she has been trapped all day in the annex with a woman who maybe hates her, so that she can avoid Lakan. She's had nothing to do but think about all the really painful emotions that she usually stays busy to avoid. Meimei finds Maomao hiding out in the annex, and lets her know that Lakan has left. Apparently he has brough up an offer for Maomao?! Maomao hates it, and so do I!

Maomao worries that if she didn't have her job that the madam of Verdigris House would have sold her off to Lakan by now. She thinks that Lakan's interest is the main reason that the madam wants her to become a courtesan. So Lakan is a major contributing factor to why Maomao is so fiercely opposed to being a courtesan. Her terror takes on a new shade of meaning now. If only we knew what has transpired between Maomao and Lakan in the past, we could understand.

Meimei has been given offers to leave the brothel, but has as yet turned them all down. She's getting close to retirement age, but isn't ready for that yet. Maomao asks why she doesn't just leave? To Maomao the freedom to choose would be preferrable to any offer that a customer could make. Maomao thinks that Meimei is holding out for love. Perhaps she is in love with someone already, and is waiting for an offer from that person.

Maomao: Maybe it's love. But if that's the case. It's not a rabbit hole I want to delve into. That's an emotion I'm sure I left behind. Back in the womb of the woman who birthed me.

Nearly every example of romantic love that Maomao has is heartbreaking. She's seen heartbreak after heartbreak in the brothel, with courtesans having promises made to them, and then broken. We don't know the story of her parents, but if her mother is the dying woman in the annex, or if she has died already, then then there is heartbreak in her story as well. Even the concubines in the palace don't have the love of the emperor, instead they merely battle for his attention and favor. The sole example she has seen is that of the concubine who was able to escape the Rear Palace when her military beau was able to secure her release.

Maomao is not open to the idea of love, in fact it is something she tries to avoid, disdains even. This view of love is one of the reasons we have seen her repeatedly shut down any tender emotion she's had, and why she is so willing to read any other explanation when love is directed at herself. And she tells us here, that it stems from her parents. How is she ever going to trust someone enough to love them and be loved in return?

And what a way to talk about one's own mother. "The woman who birthed me." So there is a story there. It sounds like one of abandonment, neglect or abuse, as we've already guessed.

The princesses want to pamper Maomao, and she adores the attention. This girl is so touch starved. I wondered about Maomao's need for physical touch, way back in episode 2 when Jinshi touched Maomao's hair and breathed on her neck. He did it in an effort to try to seduce her, but her reaction was interesting. She didn't get disgusted or freaked out as she did with his flirting. She just kind of let it happen. Now we see it with the courtesans that she considers family. Meimei is scrubbing Maomao's back and she is relaxed and smiling. The courtesans love Maomao so much, I wish she could have this kind of affection all the time.

Hard transition to Jinshi. A man who maybe has never had a hug in his life, except for the back hug he stole from Maomao when he was drunk. He's regretting that his date went so terribly, he didn't mean to give the impression to Maomao that he was trying to hook up with someone. He tells us that it definitely wasn't what he traveled there for, which is really unnecessary. No one who has been watching this show believed he was. I would like for him to tell us what he was up to though.

Maomao has retuned to Jinshi's residence, and Jinshi steels himself to face her. He's embarrassed and knows he's once again put space between them, when all he wants to do is find a way to get closer. Plus, it looks like he's carrying that jug of... beverage that Lakan left. He presents it as a present from a weirdo. Their conversation lacks all of the usual banter, and is perfectly polite, which for these two is a disaster. Jinshi watches her walk away. He's not sure where to even begin to repair this. He's frustrated. Maomao is doing her best to pretend like Jinshi already left. Gaoshun is there listening closely. Suiren is there watching Maomao and wondering what has changed, but knows it's some bullshit because she says:

Suiren: For goodness' sake.

Yeah Suiren. I feel that in my bones. But when I say it there is usually an F bomb in there somewhere.

Maomao is having very complicated feelings about having seen her mother the woman in the annex. It's distracting her from her work. It seems bad, but it's a good sign that Maomao is starting to face her emotions and try to process them, rather than avoid them.

Suiren thinks Maomao's distraction has to do with the master of the residence so she decides it's time to say something. Suiren realizes that hints and subtly don't work so well for Maomao when it comes to herself. She needs very blunt advice, which Suiren provides.

Suiren encourages Maomao to ask Jinshi for some space for her apothecary supplies.

Suiren: You may appear apathetic, but you're keen. You know where you stand, and how to play the game.

Yes! Call her on her bullshit Suiren!

Suiren: Because somebody was born noble doesn't inherently make them any different from you or me.

She's telling Maomao to quit looking at Jinshi as some lofty official, see him as a person.

Suiren: If you view everything in terms of status, then you'll miss opportunities.

Thank you Suiren! Internalize that Maomao. Put it in your head and keep it there.

Maomao has an errand to run at the court pharmacy, and she's delighted. She'll sparkling here. If only Maomao could be employed here.

The odd court lady that smacked Maomao in the head a few episodes back has arrived. Maomao figures that this lady works in the guard house and handles herbs in her job, which is why she had a bitter smell earlier, here I thought she was on drugs. Maomao ponders why the lady dislikes her so much, when they've had so little interaction.

A little casual classism for flavor. The pharmacist bemoans that the court lady is required to come pick up drugs herself. Then realizes he said it in front of Maomao and tries to back track. It's not okay work for a court lady, but fine for servant. That comment right on the heals of Suiren's much better advice about class.

Maomao discovers that the item she was sent to pick up was potato flour and wonders why Jinshi needs it. She pieces together a few things about Jinshi's actions. She suspects his actions are part of a purification ceremony that would be used to perform ceremonial rights. Something a nobleman might do. Something that would be strange for a eunuch to do. I'm tired of this theme. Moving on.

Gaoshun and Jinshi are trying to piece together the mystery of Luomen, but Jinshi can't stop thinking about how things are so distant and confused between himself and Maomao, right now. And just to make sure Jinshi never gets a moments peace, Lakan arrives.

Lakan is in the same house where Maomao is right now, and on the one hand I'm hoping they don't run into each other for Maomao's well being, but on the other hand, let's get this plot moving along. It's time to throw Maomao to the wolves.

Question: why does Lakan bring his own beverage whenever he visits? Is he afraid of being poisoned?

Jinshi isn't even bothering to hide how irritated he is at this visit. That's telling. And maybe a mistake. Or maybe intentional.

Jinshi: It seems to me, that you had engaged in some dirty trickery. Lakan: How very rude. That's rich to hear from a thief like yourself.

Gasp! Jinshi a thief?! Go on!

Oh no! Lakan really was trying to get Maomao. He spent a decade trying to get Maomao? Maomao who is what? All of 17 or 18 here? Has he been trying to get Maomao out of the brothel since she was a child? With good intentions or bad ones? Lakan feels he's been made a fool. He tell Jinshi he's upset with him over this.

Jinshi is worried, pissed, and oh so intent.

Jinshi: So do you want your prize returned?

I'm fairly certain that Jinshi wouldn't do that, and is just moving the conversation to find out Lakan's intentions.

Lakan: Not quite. I will pay whatever it is you ask.

That's... a hell of a look from Jinshi. So intense! Jinshi fucking hates this guy.

Jinshi: And if I refuse?

Lakan: Well then, I suppose there is nothing I can do is there.

Which is a threat to wreck Jinshi's life! It's a declaration of war. Holy shit!

Lakan: How many people could defy a man of your rank? I could count every single one of them on one hand.

The imperial family maybe? Yup that's it. Jinshi knows that Lakan knows his true identity.

Oh my god. Lakan knows everything!

Lakan: I'm just concerned you know. About what my daughter would think.

He's threatening to expose the truth about Jinshi, and hits him where it hurts the most: Maomao. Jinshi was worried that Maomao may be this man's daughter, and Lakan just confirmed as much.

Jinshi is tense. Hands balled into fists, posture wary, as Lakan asks to meet Maomao. This asshole has been following Maomao. First at the brothel and now to Jinshi's residence.

Everyone one of Lakan's moves were so well played, and Jinshi... is trapped. He once again has to make a choice between the obligations of his station and his own personal desires. He can give this official what he is asking for and go on business as usual, after all what is one servant over another? It would be an easy decision for someone else other than Jinshi, if it were about someone else, other than Maomao.

Jinshi looks deep in thought when he comes upon Maomao while the sun is setting. Is something ending here?

Jinshi addresses Maomao as "apothecary." It's respectful in that it acknowledges her for her skills, she may even like being called this, but it's another sign of the distance between the two. I don't know the last time he called her by her name.

Jinshi seems very nervous to bring this up to Maomao. You can hear the tension in his voice. Unusual for Jinshi, when he is usually bold and shameless when interacting with Maomao. It's a sign of just how precarious things are between the two right now. Also, a sign of just how divided Jinshi is about even bringing this suggestion to Maomao.

Jinshi: There's... an official who wants to meet you sometime soon. ... It's...that weirdo I've been telling you about. His name's... Lakan.

A pause. Then a fricking jump scare of Maomao's intense glare! This glare isn't giving Jinshi chills in the fun way. She looks legit scary. It reminds me of a frightened animal that has been backed into a corner and has no choice left but to fight. Lakan is a line she will not cross. An absolute boundary. With one look she declares that there is nothing she won't do to avoid that meeting.

Jinshi: I'll find a way to let him down gently.

Jinshi, Jinshi, Jinshi.... what the hell are you going to do? If you can't convince Maomao to see Lakan, and you won't force her to do it, then your other choice is to go to war with Lakan.

Jinshi: I've never seen her make a face like that. I never want to see it again. Ever.

I hope he means that as I'm going to do everything I can to keep her protect her from Lakan. I hope this is a turning point for Jinshi, where he chooses Maomao in a real way. I hope he won't waver again on this, allowing Lakan room to maneuver Maomao and himself.

Maomao is distressed that Lakan has found her again. She goes to collect medicinal herbs. A familiar and comforting activity.

She is approached by Suirei who cares for the herb garden near the military officers' part of the palace. Maomao questions what Suirei is growing here and Suirei claims she planting a medicine for resurrection?

Maomao has a VERY strong reaction to that. Who has died in Maomao's life that she is that desperate to get back? A family member? Someone she loved? A patient she couldn't save?

Suirei claims to be joking. What a strange lady. Are we absolutely sure she's not on drugs? The music is unsettling in this scene and so is Suirei. She asks how good of an apothecary Maomao is then tells her she's going to plant morning glories here. I happen to know that those are poisonous! Is Suirei hoping to make a poison? Will she try to get Maomao to do it?

The sun is setting over the palace and the music is ominous. Is something serious about to happen in the next episode?

To start at the beginning: Episode 1

Next Episode:

Episode 19

#the apothecary diaries #apothecary diaries #jinshi x maomao #jinshi #jinmao #maomao

[buck-yyyy]

sighhhh

i told her that i was ace (and i didn’t cry, so. upgrade from when i told her i was Not A Girl) but now i feel so icky for whatever reason and i just want to rip off my skin and sob into my pillow

#god what the fuck is wrong with me and why does this bother me so much #i think this is maybe just. a really bad time for the realization to hit #cause i was already not doing great #and now suddenly there’s a new abnormal thing about me that’s gonna change the way my life is supposed to play out and it’s just fucking #heartbreaking every time i find out that there’s another way i’ll feel different and isolated from the world around me #like does this make so many things make sense? yes. it explains why i’ve always hated talking or thinking about sex in any way beyond a joke #even if it’s with my friends #but it still feels so horrible and it’s not fucking fair #sigh. #it feels like the whole world is pointing at me saying ‘ha! already a fag- what else could be different?!’ #it’s just some big horrible joke that i’m not in on just like middle school and i just. i don’t know what to do #i guess i just wish i was normal #tw vent

[not-the-cheese]

one sentence summaries of every TMA episode

(1-60 i'll add more soon)

part 2 up!

world's most effective anti-smoking PSA

man DOES NOT open coffin. everyone claps.

woman is judgemental towards neighbor even though she has hobbies that are just as weird.

book makes multiple people fall off chair.

man finds bag of teeth and decides he absolutely needs to fuck around and find out.

worm sti.

there was a SCARY MAN in the WAR.

fuck this tree

well at least ted bundy was a great father :)

i'm like 55% sure vampires are real and i'm willing to take those odds

bitches be dying. you're next.

we kill this man because he made the soda too warm.

sorry ur husband's dead. maybe get some help.

Unbox with me ! (GONE WRONG)

hah i'm safe from this one because i have decided to Never Go Into a Cave Ever.

man is so annoying about this spider that even his cat can't be bothered

man's bully finds a book about a Bone Turner and subsequently begins turning people's bones.

this guy sucks at DIY home improvement

aw maybe this priest didn't do anything THAT bad!

oh fuck nevermind

THE SKY ATE MY SON.

the worms stole my identity. i haven't left the house in days.

man beats german children at game of bravery and wins a coin (he later loses this coin)

my ex boyfriend gets casted in the muppets and dies

sorry mom, i've abandoned jesus for a new religion : jesus in the dark.

tall squiggly and HANDsome

old man arm wrestles demon through door knob

the buzzfeed unsolved guys finally catch a ghost but it's their sound tech

immortality but at what cost

working at the big meat factory was so traumatizing it made me vegetarian

i go to america and get almost killed by a furry

well if you love that wasp nest so much why don't you MARRY it (and then she did)

antisocial boat crew bands together to exclude one guy from a midnight party. he dies from the rejection.

bone apple teeth

remember when that norwegian guy threw a tantrum about us not digging a hole? turns out we were right to not dig that hole.

babe come over my parents have taken ill and passed away

man fucks around and it costs him everything

HOMOPHOBIC CHINESE VASE

oh god oh fuck the worms are here

thank you for participating in worms! please rate your wormsperience from 1 to 10.

the wormsperience has left me deeply scarred. i'm going to get lost in a tunnel about it.

🎸music makes me loose control🎸

spooky stories to tell at the next police slumber party

child threatens to run away and join the circus one too many times, and now the circus has come to cash in.

these mosquitoes are mad sus

man frequents local barnes and noble and then dies(?) after liking a book too much.

realtor gets eaten by the backrooms twice. it's a terrible shame.

both me and this weird goth dude have an unsatisfying italy vacation

guy who turns people's bones gets a new job where he continues to turn people's bones.

man who should never be allowed to build prisons builds a prison.

Something Big Is In The Water.

what if u heard me about 15 feet behind you fumbling around and calling out ur name 😳 (and we were both prison guards)

i'm going to be honest i didn't retain anything from this episode except that this guy has the silliest old man voice ever

everybody hates the tax man, including these creepy taxidermy animals

hmmgh. ant house.

so turns out being only 55% sure that vampires are real in my career as a vampire hunter has had some consequences.

the only thing keeping you company in space is your abandonment issues

🎶 the snack that smiles back 🎶 (my husband!)

maybe the real treasure was the house siblings we encased in spider web along the way.

your dead brother wrote books about ancient myths and WHAT

Part 2

#i hope this convinces you to listen to tma #podcast #the magnus archives #martin blackwood #tma #jon sims #sasha james #podcasts #gay podcasts #tim stoker #elias bouchard #peter lukas

[angelltheninth]

Back in the Dating Game

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, new relationship, first date, phone calls, being flustered, gifts, kissing, poly Lucilith, Lucifer Morningstar is a gentleman and silly

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: After a while of dancing around it you and Lucifer are finally going on a date. He's been freaking out about it and goes to ask the only person he can for advice, his daughter, Charlie.

A/N: This came to me at like 2 in the morning and I thought it was hilarious.

Over a month has passed since Charlie and her friends battle with Adam and Hell is slowly going back to... it's usual brand of chaos. Lucifer however has his own worries past Hell's current affairs. His upcoming date.

"It's a date. A date. You've been on dates before. You're the King of Hell!" He yelled at his own reflection, ferocious at first and then sunk back down into his chair. "Like ten thousand years ago. Ugh. Why is it still so hard. I gotta find someone who... wait... that's it!"

He rushed out the door of his bedroom, greeting one Hotel staff member after the other, even Alastor, although he swore that the Radio Demon tried to trip him. It was still early morning so he choose to leave him be. For now.

"Charlie can I- oh- oh my golly-!" Lucifer was has never looked away faster in his life, his long, long life.

"Dad! What the FUCK is wrong with you?!" Charlie kicked her legs so fast one of her hooves smacked Vaggie in the face. "Shit! Vaggie I'm so sorry! Are you bleeding! Oh my god you are!"

Vaggie put her hand up and instead of bothering to stop the bleeding searched for her nightgown. There were few things worse then getting caught between her girlfriend's legs.

"Are uh... you two dressed now?" Lucifer coughed awkwardly as he listened to the commotion behind him. "I'm so sorry I didn't know you two were- I mean it's fine you're girlfriends and sex is a very natural-"

"Dad, please don't. You can turn around just... knock next time." Lucifer turned around, one hand still on his face, "You can look, we're dressed."

The King of Hell cleared his throat, standing there for a few more moments before walking over to a chair and sitting down. "Soooo... wings huh? Hey, me too! Aha-haaa!" He grinned way to much, trying to break the awkward atmosphere. "Charlie... you like girls right?"

"Yes? Didn't you just... dad, what's going on?"

He gulped, tapping his fingers on his cane, "There's this woman I've kind of, maybe, soft of been seeing and... well your old man's been out of the dating game for the past ten thousand years. It's... I'm nervous about the date tonight." He was out of breath by the time he finished talking, almost shaking.

Charlie and Vaggie looked at each other, and a moment later Charlie exploded with excitement.

"Who is she? When did you meet? Did you kiss yet? Is she as pretty as mom? Does she like singing? Have you kissed yet or not?! Wait I already asked that!"

"Charlie, Charlie calm down! This is gonna be our first official date. Your mom gave a thumbs up? We didn't talk much though. I really think this-" A phone rang in his pocket, "Oh! Oh god! It's her! What do I do?!"

"Pick up the phone?" Vaggie suggested.

"Good idea Gabby! That's why I like you!" That wasn't even close to her name but okay, he was under a lot of stress. "What do I say?"

"Just... be yourself?" Not helpful.

"Myself. Okay. I'm Lucifer. The King of Hell!" He took a deep breath and pressed answer, "Hey bitch!"

Both Charlie and Vaggie faceplalmed, Vaggie cringing more because of her busted nose and lip.

"Uhm, hey Lucifer. Are we still on for tonight?" You asked with no small amount of stress of your own. You were getting a date with the King of Hell, it was scary and exciting at the same time.

"Of course we're on! We are gonna get it on! Not like that, no! I uh... want to..." He looked to the side where both Charlie and Vaggie made X gestures with their arms, "Make you an X?"

You laughed at how nervous he sounded too, "Already dumping me? You haven't even kissed me yet. I'm not that bad at it, I promise."

"No, no I don't mean... I look forward to seeing you tonight. It will be the best, most romantic, the most magical shit you've ever seen... baby?" Lucifer tried to chuckle but it sounded very forced.

"Well okay then. Sweep me off my feet, my good sir." Look at you, already using petnames for each other.

"S-Sir...?" His mind was already going places that were very much not appropriate in front of his daughter and her girlfriend, "See you tonight!" He ended the call, "That went well. Wish me luck Charlie! Oh and use protection! Your old man ain't ready to be a grandpa yet."

"Daaad!" Charlie blushed a deep red as Lucifer stepped through a portal and back into his room.

The knock at your door was quick and hard, and a few minutes early. But you knew who it was, the hat and the wings were a dead giveaway. You checked your outfit and make-up in the mirror one last time before opening the door and beholding the King of Hell himself holding out flowers for you with a shy smile on his face.

"Hope these aren't too much for a first date." He handed them off to you. "They're alive! They're gonna be great houseguards when they grow fully." Good, then you wouldn't have to feed them. The demons breaking into your home will do that.

"Thank you, I'm sure they'll be lovely." You put them aside and took his hand as he tapped his cane on the floor and opened a portal to a restaurant you haven't been to before. It looked much too fancy, but not for the King. "Wow."

Lucifer pulled out a chair for you but tripped over his own. "I'm okay!"

He was such a goof ball.

"I uh... look, I need to be honest with you. I haven't been on a date in a while. I don't know how to do... this. I walked in on my daughter with her girlfriend today because I couldn't figure out how to talk to you!" He leaned against his chair and ran his hand across his face, his red cheeks reddening even more.

"Lucifer, it's fine." You reached for his hand, "You're the King of Hell. I was scared to go out with you, I didn't know what to expect. Your reputation is pretty intimidating. But I'm glad you're not that guy."

"And what kind of guy am I?" He leaned in, so interested in what you had to say. He'd been judged for so long, for all the wrong things, he had to know what you think.

"Really funny, someone who cares about his family, charming, and dare I say devilishly handsome." You pushed yourself over the desk and kissed him on the cheek, in front of everyone. "And so cute when you blush." You whispered and looked at him with hooded eyes. Lucifer didn't reply but you did see his tail moving behind him. "Puppy energy. Interesting."

"Oh no, I'm not into pet play. But I'm sure we can find other things we're both into." His eyebrows wiggled as he let his long tongue curl at you. You clenched your legs, excited for more dates with him if this is the energy he's gonna bring every time.

#hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel fanfiction #lucifer morningstar headcanon #lucifer morningstar fanfiction #lucifer headcanons #lucifer fanfiction #hazbin hotel fluff #lucifer morningstar fluff #lucifer fluff #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #x female reader

[feyascorner]

okay first of all i ADORE ur writing… wanna take a bite out of it..

anyway… uh… can i uhh… order a uhh…. astarion x tav.. and like..tav has a fucking insane pain tolerance and always has.. and like… uhh… one time she gets fucking TOTALED in a fight and like obvi it would hurt… and shes like crying subconsciously.. and when some1 points it out shes like “what???? why am i crying wtf???” and like looks down and is just fucking BLEEDING… n then.. astarion comfort…

only if u want thoo!!!!

a/n. Im like the exact opposite I'm very dramatic about the slightest pain but this is such a cute request so Ty!! ALSO PLS EXCUSE IF THIS IS A LITTLE CLUNKY I HAD TO TYPE THIS OUT W MY FINGERS🫠🫠

Astarion is grateful for your tolerance to pain.

Of course, he doesn't particularly enjoy watching you in pain, but he’s no fool. He knows the sting and the soreness that comes after he drinks from your neck. Well, at least, it should sting. However, it never seemed to bother you, and for that, he's forever grateful for it.

These strange sentiments expand past his thirst for blood, as the relief he feels when you’re battered up after a battle and you smile at him as if nothing’s wrong is incomparable to any other feeling he’s felt.

That relief does not come currently, however.

The battle was nearly hopeless. Overwhelmed in number, mages casting counterspell, fighters constantly aiming at you…he’s lost track of it all. By some miracle you and your companions stand victorious, and when he sees that you offer Karlach a lopsided smile, confirming that you're fine, he reaches to pick up one of his daggers.

“Tav—what in the hells, are you okay?”

It’s then that he spots the way your lip quivers and tears glisten threateningly at your eyes. And when you meet his own, they begin to drip down your cheeks like crystals and roll off your chin. He's seen you in tears before, but out of something more positive—not from pain. Before he can even tell what he's doing, he's rushing toward you.

“Why are you—” he sees the blood seeping from your stomach, and his face would've gone pale if he could.

You finally lift your hands to your face, eyes wide when your fingertips brush against the dampness of your cheeks. “Oh. Why am I?…”

Shadowheart scrambles to scrimmage around her bag. “Here, let me—gods, where did I—did we use all the healing potions?—”

“Oh for hells sake. Because you're bleeding!” Astarion hisses, his hand intertwining with yours as he drags you toward the nearest tree where he sits you down. He freezes when you flinch but you shake your head, wiping at your eyes. Your other companions are still searching the enemy corpses for anything that might relieve you of the pain, but they're taking far too long for his liking.

“I’m okay, it doesn't really hurt that much.”

“You’re crying.”

“I didn't even know I was-” you wince.

His eyes narrow. “Lay down.”

“What? No, I’m really fine!”

“Gods, love, please for once, listen to me. It’s quite straining to watch you clamber around with that ghastly wound on your stomach.”

You frown, but he guides you down anyway, careful to lay down your head against the grass. “Now wait patiently. Maybe if we’re lucky, our dear friends will find a potion before I start developing wrinkles.”

A momentary silence hangs in the air. It’s by no means uncomfortable, but there are words on the tip of his tongue he wishes to say. And when he notices you staring, he sighs.

“If you're hurt, tell us. I don't care how high your pain tolerance is—if you're hurt, call us. Call me. Don't be a fool and bleed out over a few enemies when we’ve been through so much worse.”

The sincerity in his voice is almost embarrassing. But with the way you're watching him so seriously, he can't bring himself to dwell on such irrelevant factors.

Then, you smile again, as if you've forgotten about the pain. “How minor can the pain be for me to call you?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Can I call you when I stub a toe?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I will.”

He stares at you with lidded eyes and you laugh. He feels the weight on his shoulders get a bit lighter.

“You may call for me whenever you wish.”

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #fluff #bg3

[perrywrites]

Absentmindedly murmuring that you want him inside of you during his practice;

NSFW 

Includes; Isagi, Hiori, Bachira

Part 2 (Chigiri, Reo) and part 3 (Kaiser, Barou) and part 4 (Nagi, Shidou, Kunigami) and part 5 (Sae, Rin, Karasu, Otoya, Yukimiya)

Isagi: it’s time for his break during practice, and he’s gulping down water, adam’s apple bobbing as he hydrates himself. He’s loosely aware of your dazed stare as you continue looking at him from the bench, after all you haven’t been very subtle in staring at him throughout practice - and although he could ignore it on field, not so much off of it. He’s still gulping down water, about to go towards you afterwards just for a quick chat, and to ask you why you’ve been staring at him so much, unusually quietly. Then you say something that makes him freeze up, setting fire to his face and nearly killing him in the process. “I want you inside of me…” you mumble that, sighing in a manner as if he had romanced you. The surprise proves near fatal, and he’s choking on his water, turning away from you as his ears burn up fiercely. What? What? Did you actually just say that? Or has he somehow actually gone crazy now? Some sort of brain fatigue? An answer to his unasked question comes in the form of your lighthearted giggle, as you apologize casually for letting your thoughts slip out. That doesn’t do anything to calm the fire heating up his skin, heart thundering throughout his body, especially not when your eyes are still just as dazed when you look up at him, all lovesick and opaque with longing. “You can’t just say that,” he says, voice quiet and strained, face still heavily flushed. You giggle, and tease him a bit more, before he goes back to practice. Except now he can’t focus on anything anymore. All he can think about are your sweet words, that lovesick gaze of yours, and the softness of your plush walls. His mind is failing, and you’ve proven to be a magnificent distraction. The only thing on his mind right now is how badly he wants to sink into you and fuck you hard for even daring to say that outloud. He wants to pin you down and have his way with you, make you so dumb on his cock, fill you up - and oh god. He’s clenching his hands, flexing any muscles in his body that he can, trying to divert the blood away from his cock, because his shorts were starting to feel a little too tight. Fuck, look at what you’ve done. Are you proud of yourself? You’re not going to be getting away with this, you know that, right? Why did you think it was a good idea to tease him like this during practice, make him want you so badly? Was last night not enough? Just wait until the end of practice. He’ll be pouncing on you with a growl, dragging you somewhere private he can pound some fucking sense into you. Don’t bother trying to run away, you know he’ll catch you.

Hiori: he finds himself raising an amused eyebrow as he walks towards you during his break, noting how you’re still looking at him, all dreamy and dazed, gaze thick with longing. He knows more than well enough the meaning of that stare, your expressions always give away far too much, but he doesn’t call you out on it. Instead, he asks you lightly if something’s wrong, taking sips of his water. He freezes before he can go in for a third sip, some water spilling out from the top of the bottle at his sudden pause. Did he hear you right? Did you actually just say that? He blinks, looking at you, and his eyes narrow darkly when he catches that spacey fuzzy look on your face. How do you manage to look so innocent and corruptible despite just saying such a perverse thing? He doesn’t understand it, no matter how many times he thinks about it, but what he does know is how that spaced out look on your face never fails to stir sinful desires within him, cock twitching in his pants as his body heats up. On the surface, he looks calm, as always, nothing amiss - but his eyes are clouded over deeply, and his jaw is tense. You love to test his self-restraint, don’t you? For some reason, when you two first started dating, you seemed to have the impression that he doesn’t yearn, doesn’t have a sexual appetite, and it was amusing for him to prove you wrong again and again, take you by surprise - because every time you’d be befuddled by the fact that he wants you, and that he wants you badly. That’s why you’re capable of saying something so inviting so carelessly, right? Even right now, you don’t know a single thing that’s running through his mind, do you? How he wants to watch your eyes turn all dewy, tears pooling as you whimper and sob out his name beneath him, face flushed and lips quivering, an expression only for him on your face, make you vulnerable and helpless underneath as he loves you to death. He wants to do all of those things and more, make you so weak and useless, cherish you and make you take him until you break. But, he doesn’t do any of that. Instead, he smiles impassively, walking over to you as he pats your head, but when he speaks, there’s something veiled in his controlled voice. “Don’t worry, ya only have to wait a little longer, okay?”

Bachira: throughout practice he catches your stare, noting your listless gaze as your eyes follow him run and score across the field. He’s not oblivious, though, he can tell well enough the simmering desire sitting heavy and darkly in your seemingly empty and unthinking eyes. “What’s with that look?” he asks, all toothy smirk and teasing eyes as he drinks from his bottle, eager to badger you during his small water break. But it seems like you’re a little too out of it, feeling a little too bold, because you respond bluntly, murmuring quietly that you were thinking about wanting him inside of you. He’s taken aback at your unintentional provocation, blinking away the shock as he smiles, amused. You really will be the death of him, won’t you? He tries lightheartedly teasing you, asking you what made you so impatient that you couldn’t even wait until you two were alone to tell him this, and when you say that neither of you would be able to resist right now if he got you alone, he damn near loses his mind. He can feel the heat spreading through his body, itching to do something to you as you continue looking up at him all dazed and yearning, and he tells you that exactly so, voice all husky. With a smile as normal as ever, except his eyes are glinting in a way that sends fire down your core. A whimper bubbles up your throat. “I want you to do something to me so badly, you have no clue,” you say, whimpery voice bursting out, and you’ve done it. His eyes darken needily, smile faltering, and he quickly ditches his towel and water bottle; practice be damned. Hand on your arm, he pulls you up and begins lightly dragging you somewhere else, somewhere isolated, somewhere he can fuck you and make you cry so hard on his cock you lose your voice. That’s what you get for tempting him. This is what you want, right? He’ll give it all to you, don’t worry. Just be good and submissive for him, spread those legs for him and leave your body all pliant under his hungry touch. He’ll fill you up, and he’ll keep filling you up until you’re satisfied - or rather, until he’s satisfied. Because you’ve lit a fire in him that you absolutely can’t handle - but don’t worry - he’ll hold you and love you even when you become a babbling mess on his cock, so let him break you apart right now. You’re the one that started it this time anyways, so he doesn’t have to hold back, right?

#blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #isagi yoichi #blue lock isagi #isagi x reader #isagi x you #bachira meguru #bllk bachira #blue lock bachira #bachira x reader #bachira smut #isagi smut #blue lock hiori #hiori yo #bllk hiori #hiori x reader #hiori x you #hiori smut

[seattlesellie]

don’t cross the line

pairing: ellie williams x reader

warnings: smut (mdni), cheating, angst, mutual masturbation, just morally wrong, mentions of alcohol

Parties in Jackson fucking suck.

It’s not like youve ever been at a different party, but still. You’ve read about them in the little magazines from the old days you found on patrols. Small blurbs about meaningless celebrities, a concept you barely even understood, drinking themselves to oblivion. Paparazzi pictures of young starlets in black limousines, rappers getting coked up in dark bathrooms. You never really got it. Parties in Jackson were like a parallel universe.

“They must have made that up” you told Dina, your best friend and trusty patrol partner. “Nope” she shrugged. “Heard that Paris Hilton girl was really like that.”

Paris hilton would have hated Jackson parties. A bunch of old people, and a handful of young ones, dancing around to the beat of an old country song, if you could even call that a beat.

You could have responded with a simple “No thanks” when Jesse had invited you to tonights party. You could have told him you were tired, busy, sick, he would have left you alone - But you didn’t, alas, this is how you found yourself here. Alone, in an old barn, listening to the batshit insane, drunk ramblings of an old fart named Seth.

“Ripped that fella’s throat with just one move” Seth mumbled, laughing stupidly at his own words.

“Go — got him real good n’dirty, I tell ya”

Whoever said “respect the elderly” clearly never met Seth. His breath reeked of whiskey and cigarettes that he traded for food and supplies, and my god, he was standing so close you could see the veins in his yellow tinted eyeballs. You really were too polite for your own good, you thought to yourself, because Ellie would have shoved him away already.

Ellie.

You felt like slapping yourself in the face. What the hell does she have to do with this? Why can’t you just let it fucking go already? It truly was desperate, and pathetic, and borderline immoral, the amount you spent thinking about that girl.

So what if she used to be your best friend. So what if she was the first girl who ever made you feel something, even if it was too late. She has a girlfriend, and she’s not thinking about you, she doesn’t care, maybe never has, probably never will. She left you for her, with that useless excuse of “Cat doesn’t like it when we hang out” followed by a pathetic “We can do it in secret, though.”, when she saw your eyes turn glossy and your breath hitch up. Fuck her, and fuck those memories. Fuck all the nights you spent together telling each other your deepest and darkest desires, and especially fuck that time you almost-

“Hey”

You'd recognize that voice anywhere.

A royal blue flannel button up shirt appeared at the corner of your eye.

“Mind if I steal her for a sec, Seth?”

She sounded raspy, laced with that velvety layer her voice had adorned whenever she had a sip or more of Whiskey. When you drank together for the first time, at the ripe age of sixteen, next to a big bonfire and the ever so familiar scent of pine lacing your sense of smell, you told her that she sounds different when she’s drunk. More mature, somehow. Less fidgety, slower, sultrier. She replayed that sentence over and over again in her head. “Sultry”, she whispered to herself. “I sound sultry.”

Seth cleared his throat, a deep cough escaping his lungs.

“Of course, pretty girl like her shouldn’t be around me for too long, might start acting all wild!” The old man threw his hands in the air, and disappeared somewhere in the scarce crowd.

Your heartbeat was faster than normal, but that’s not new. Not when she was around, anyways.

Ellie stood by your side, hands crossed over her chest. She had a glass of Rum in her hand, not Whiskey. Funny.

“You’re a Rum type of girl now?” you questioned, never meeting her gaze. If you bothered to look to your side, you would have noticed she was staring.

“Fame’s changed me, I guess” She responded, mixing the fluid in her glass.

One week ago, Ellie went on patrol. One week ago, Ellie killed more infected in one go than anyone else had in years. She was the town’s hero, the infected slayer. Cat even made her a badge. She wasn’t wearing it now.

“Cat or fame?” you quietly mumbled under your breath.

You weren’t spectacularly brave with your words, but one glass of presumably expired white wine made a simple girl go very far.

“Hah. Funny” she scoffed dryly, earning her Rum another pointless swirl.

“You’re the towns hero, I’m the towns comedian, we’re both pretty famous, i’d say.”

Ellie’s gaze was fixed on the wall. She squinted her eyebrows slightly, humming in response. You looked over at her, for just a second, noticing the dim light reflecting in her eyes. She was a sight to behold, the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. You wish she knew that. You wish you could be the one to tell her.

You inhaled deeply, and it came out so shaky that when you exhaled you were terrified she heard the tremor in your body.

“Thank’s for the save, by the way” you said quietly, apologetic. You even smiled politely, which was absolutely for nothing, because she wasn’t looking at you, avoiding your gaze like the plague.

It’s not like Ellie and you didn’t talk since that night she told you she couldn’t see you anymore. It’s been two whole years. You had to talk, you had to communicate somehow, even if it was through polite smiles and dry conversations during shared patrols. Hell, you even went to Cat’s birthday party you somehow were invited to. Dina was practically on her knees begging you to come with her, and who could say no to Dina when she looked at them with those puppy eyes that could tug at a monsters heartstrings?

“Yeah, no problem. That man’s a fucking dickhead” Ellie scoffed, leaned against the bar and crossed her legs.

“Where’s Cat?” you questioned. Are you sure you only had one glass of wine?

“She’s not here” Ellie responded dryly, seemingly annoyed at your question. She almost tsk’d when you asked. She didn’t look surprised by your rude antics, maybe you got like this more often than you thought. How about that time you told her you’re surprised Cat didn’t pack her a sandwich with a sticker on it’s wrapper during patrol?

“I can tell… why?” you inquired. Your own voice was deeper too, it almost matched hers.

“Didn’t wanna come” Ellie said, stuffing a hand inside her pocket. She was uncomfortable, clearly, and wanted, needed, to make you shut up. It’s not because your presence annoyed her, It’s because she knew she was wrong. She knew she fucked up when she ditched you, and if only you knew how it was eating her alive every day. She had to do it, because in her eyes, she would have done something much worse if she hadn’t.

Being around you when she wasn’t with Cat was hard enough, because she knew she could never have you, that you’d never want her. Not if you knew. You were too smart, and too good, to ever want to be with her. Cat was easy, she didn’t ask too many questions. She’d lay there for Ellie when Ellie told her to, and she would agree to stop a conversation when it got too personal. When Ellie cried at night, and woke up sweating, she didn’t ask why. She let it go, and Ellie knew you never would have. You’d fucking hate her if you knew. She could have saved the world — and she didn’t. He didn’t let her. The wounds she had were too deep, they were clawing and tugging at her skin from the inside. Ellie was a tortured soul, and you didn’t deserve that. That’s why she left, and maybe, that’s why she was here right now.

“That’s too bad” you mumbled quietly. You did your best to make it sound genuine, and you failed miserably.

Ellie scoffed.

“Yeah”

You shifted slightly, and walked over to stand right in front of her. You met her eyes for the first time. Those stupid, beautiful emerald eyes.

Ellie looked down, and looked up at you. She swallowed deeply.

“Anyways” you sighed. “Think I’m gonna go”

“Already?” she questioned, slamming her Rum filled glass on the bar counter.

“Yeah, I’m cold and it sucks in here, so” you said, and smiled politely. It really was freezing, and talking to her like this was painful enough.

“Let me walk you” she blurted.

What?

“Huh?” walk you where? the door? you knew where it was.

She tugged at the loose string on the bottom of her button up. It was ironed, where did Ellie find and iron? Did Maria do it for her? Town hero perks?

“Let me walk you home” she repeated, her voice carrying a touch of insistence. Once again, you found yourself captivated by her burning gaze, those eyes that seemed to hold secrets yet to be unveiled.

“I can walk home alone, Ellie” You huffed, ever the stubborn.

“No” she exclaimed.

“Maria said it’s been pretty dangerous”

“I can have my own back, you know, I’m not an idiot” You scoffed. You knew she didn’t think you were an idiot, why did she have to walk you home?

“I know that — Just wanna make sure you’re safe”

“Gosh, Ellie thank you! thank you!” You said in the most high pitched voice you could fathom. “The town’s hero is at it again, everybody!” You exclaimed, slightly raising your voice, earning both of you a few curious looks from the townspeople.

Ellie wasn’t embarrassed. She was just annoyed. And she wanted to slap you in the face for being so stubborn.

She grasped your arm with an unexpected forcefulness, pulling you along as she swiftly guided you outside. In the process, you accidentally bumped into a few people, hastily muttering a string of apologetic "sorry" and "excuse me" as you hurriedly tried to navigate through the crowd. You attempted to resist her firm grip, trying to free yourself with a burst of strength, but you found yourself overpowered by her determination.

Once she managed to pull you outside, she finally released her grip on your arm, allowing you a brief respite from her firm hold.

“You are not walking me anywhere, Williams” you scoffed. What made her think you needed her help?

“You’ve always been so fucking stubborn” she turned to face you. Her hands were on her hips. Her face wore the same expression she did when you went on your first patrol together, when you insisted on going left, even though she knew you had to go right.

“I’m walking now” you stepped away, and started walking. “And if you followed me — you wouldn’t be walking me home, you’d be stalking me” you exclaimed as you backed away.

Ellie quickly followed your pace, her boots stomping on the snow covered ground.

“You are”

Step

“So fucking annoying”

This was the longest conversation you’ve had with Ellie in two whole years. It felt like nothing’s changed, except for everything.

The following ten minutes were torturous. You were walking fast, Ellie right behind you. No words were exchanged between you, the silence enveloping the crisp air as you both walked in silence. Your attention turned inward, focusing on the sensation of the cold air filling your lungs with each breath, and the soft sound of Ellie's boots pressing against the creaking snow beneath her.

You finally arrived at your place. It’s grey exterior blanketed in a pristine layer of snow. Every inch of its structure was adorned with a delicate coat of white.

You turned around to face her.

Ellie’s skin appeared slightly flushed, with a rosy tinge highlighting her cheeks, and her nose bore a noticeable reddish hue, hinting at the crisp winter air. She didn’t say a word.

You took a deep breath. She looked cold.

“Want me to make you some tea?” you questioned. You didn’t mean to let her in, and she didn’t expect you to ask. She looked surprised, her eyebrows turned slightly upwards.

“M’fine” Ellie insisted, her voice resolute despite the chill in the air. She sought warmth by tucking her hands deep into the pockets of her dark green coat.

“Jesus, Ellie — Just come inside” you urged, the concern evident in your voice.

“If walking you was stalking wouldn’t coming in be breaking and entering?” she inquired, a sarcastic tone lacing her words.

“Just —“ you uttered, your voice trailing off as you reached for the doorknob, slowly opening the door.

“Come inside”

"Fine," Ellie relented, her resolve wavering as she decided to follow in your footsteps.

The house welcomed you with its cozy warmth, though slightly disorganized in its appearance. Yet, amidst the subtle chaos, it remained a comforting sanctuary, always your safe space. Being there brought a sense of solace, as if the troubles of the outside world faded away. And with Ellie's presence by your side, an inexplicable tingling sensation spread through your being.

You proceeded to heat up some water, carefully attending to the task of preparing tea, a familiar ritual.

Ellie never knew where to sit, or where to stand, so there she was, examining every single one of your movements. The air felt thick, like you could cut the tension with a switchblade.

"Your house looks different," she murmured in a low voice, leaning against the cream-colored wall.

“Bad different?” You questioned, taking out two mugs from the cupboard.

“No, just… more stuff” she murmured.

"Well," you uttered as you gently placed the teabag into the awaiting mug. “You haven’t been here in a while, so”

Ellie hummed in response, and bit her lower lip.

“You’ve kind of changed too.” you murmured.

“Tattoos looking bigger. And you look more tired. Plus, your shirt looks ironed, so maybe you even… showered? Woah.” you teased.

“Fuck, you really are funny huh?” she said, crossing her arms.

“Always were a sucker for my jokes” you responded with a sly smile.

She didn’t mean to say what she said next, because that was like opening a pandora’s box. Or, more like, the gates to hell.

“This is the longest conversation we’ve had in years” Ellie murmured. You handed her the green colored mug, your finger brushing her’s for a second. You both flinched.

“Mhm” you took a sip from your tea. It was still so hot, it burned your tongue.

“And who’s fault is that?” You questioned, raising your eyes to meet her burning gaze. It was incredibly impulsive.

Ellie rolled her eyes. She looked baffled.

“You still don’t get it, do you? She questioned.

“Get what? that your girlfriend doesn’t like me? trust me Ellie, I get that, crystal clear.” You smiled, as you slammed your mug on the counter.

“I’m not doing this right now” she declared, her tone firm and resolute.

Oh, did that sentence burn through you.

“I think you are” you stepped forward to face her. She looked terrified, like a lost puppy. Not so “town’s hero” now. Thank god she wasn’t wearing Cat’s badge, because she would have looked ridiculous.

“I’m not” she said quietly, looking at the floor beneath her.

You felt the ever so familiar lump forming in your throat. She owed you.

“Tell me what it is exactly that I don’t get” you spat. The pent up anger from all these years finally just fucking bursted. She left you. She left you for her, your best fucking friend.

“It’s just funny how she didn’t give a shit about Jesse, or Dina, or anybody! Just fucking me, right? I’m the fucking problem?” you blurted. Your voice was shaky, filled with rage. The tears in your eyes started forming. You didn’t even know how much you were holding it inside of you, it all overflowed, at 2AM, right in your kitchen. Right where she told you she couldn’t see you anymore.

Ellie was frozen, her mouth parted slightly. She was flushed, and it showed. It wasn’t the cold weather anymore, it was you. She didn’t expect this to happen so fast. She came inside for some fucking tea.

That’s when you shoved her. And she didn’t even fucking move.

“Don’t fucking do this to me” she begged. Her voice was desperate, and shaky, and what the fuck was she hiding?

You found yourselves standing uncomfortably close to each other, the proximity palpable. The warmth of her breath gently grazed your forehead, creating a tantalizing sensation that sent a shiver down your spine.

She took a deep breath.

“What I did was bad. But — fuck, Jesse and Dina never slept over, you know that?”

The room fell quiet.

“So?” you whispered. You couldn’t even look at her.

“Don’t do this” she begged. Her eyes were glossy. She looked as if she was about to cry, too. Her chest was pressed up against yours.

“I’m not doing anything” you mumbled quietly. Her body was so warm. You felt like you were about to have a heart attack, and Ellie felt like she already did.

“If I would have stayed… I would have done something… so much worse” she whispered. Her hands were trembling.

“What would you have done?” you whispered against her. Dangerously close now. You could feel her unsteady heartbeat.

“You know” she whispered back. You saw the vein on her neck, how beautifully spattered the freckles on her skin were, like a constellation.

“Please” you begged.

That’s all it took.

Almost.

"No," she whispered, her voice barely audible. The proximity between your lips was almost intimate, an agonizingly close distance.

“Please” you begged.

Her eyes were dark, breaths unsteady and fast, like she just ran a marathon. Her chest was rising up and down. She’s dreamt of this moment, for so fucking long. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t fuck more people up. She’s done more than enough.

“You don’t know what you fucking do to me” She whispered against your skin. Her eyes were shut closed. If she didn’t see, maybe it would’ve been less wrong. If she didn’t see, maybe Cat wouldn’t either. She could go home, kiss her girlfriend good night. Walk away. But there you were, pressed up against her, making her head spin like a carousel, fogging her brain with your scent, and your lips, and all of the times she pictured you like this, helpless and begging. She never looked at Cat how she looked at you. Cat never made her feel like she could faint at any given moment. Cat was safe, she was a sunny day. You were a thunderstorm, a cloud, soaking her up. When Ellie said she would have done something so much worse, she meant that.

Cat was right when she told her to stay away, she always was. When Ellie begged Cat to stop her ramblings, Cat told her she looks at you like she’s hungry. That it’s disgusting, that she wishes it was her. She was crying, and begging, and she was right. That’s why Ellie knocked on your door that way. One person she could save.

Ellie’s hands were firmly pressed up against the wall, locking you in.

“You dont know…” she whispered.

You whimpered silently at her words. You were aching everywhere, you just needed her to do something.

“Show me” you said, and it came out more as a plead. You were begging her.

Ellie leaned in, drawing her face closer to yours, and your lips delicately brushed against each other. The electrifying touch sent a shiver down your spine, evoking a soft, involuntary moan that escaped your lips. It went straight to her heart, and then slipped right to her cunt.

Her lips were plump against yours. Just barely touching.

She delicately brushed her lips against yours, causing a gentle collision that sent a jolt of electricity through both of you. A shaky breath escaped her mouth.

“Ellie…” you whispered. Ellie, just do it. you can’t take it anymore.

She abruptly slammed her hands against the wall, causing it to tremor ever so slightly. The suddenness of the action startled you, making you jump in response.

“Shit” she huffed.

And her lips weren’t against yours anymore, neither was she.

Ellie backed away. She couldn’t.

Your lips quivered, and there it was. Her precious thunderstorm erupting.

The tears came out hot, and sticky. They ran all over your cheeks. You let out a quiet sob. Ellie was staring, her breaths uneven and her mouth agape. She almost did what shes been dreaming of doing since the moment she saw you. Almost.

your legs betrayed you, giving out completely. You crumbled down onto the floor, unable to stand any longer. With tears welling up in your eyes, you instinctively curled up, bringing your head between your legs as you tried to suppress the sobs that threatened to consume you.

It was a truly pathetic sight, Ellie towering over your quivering body. It’s been two whole years, and you missed her every single day that passed. It was gnawing at you. Seeing them hand in hand, kissing on the street, making out behind the dumpster. Thinking of Ellie hugging her at night, caressing her skin, touching her everywhere, telling her she loves her, fucking her, tasting her and not you. It should have been you. But it couldn’t be.

If only you knew that when Ellie was between her thighs, you were the only one she thought of. If only you knew Ellie had to bite her lip till it bled to stop from screaming your name. That’s why Ellie always turned off the lights, That’s why Ellie shoved Cat’s face down on the bed with her entire palm when she took her from behind. That’s why she always closed her eyes.

Her body gave up on her, too.

She sat on the cold concrete floor, trying to steady her breaths.

“Look at me” she commanded. It was breathy, and shaky, more of a plea than a real command.

You wiped your tears.

“I can’t” you whispered.

“Please” she begged.

You mustered the strength to lift your face, raising your gaze to meet hers.

“I think about you all the time” you blurted.

She huffed in response. Your soft voice was killing her. She couldn’t even respond. She just watched.

“Ellie…” you whined. The distance between you was torturous. There was so much space, and at the same time, no space at all. You could still feel her lips brushing against yours. You wished you could taste her. She yearned for that even more. She felt like something was chaining her down to the floor, holding her captive.

What you did next, is something Ellie had buried deep inside her darkest fantasies.

You delicately caressed your smooth neckline, doe eyes burning through her’s.

Ellie swallowed deeply.

“What are you doing?” she mumbled, lower than a whisper. Her voice was raspy, and her pupils were blown out. She was imagining, for sure, hallucinating, intoxicated by the picture of you being pressed up against her. It couldn’t be real.

“I need you” you whimpered.

She almost crawled right to you right then and there. Her knees were spread open in front of you. Her breath hitched in her throat. Her heart felt like it was leaping out of her chest.

“You cant” she insisted. It felt like she tried to convince herself, and not you. You couldn’t. There’s no way.

“I want you” you whispered, lowering your hand to caress your breasts.

Something took over you. Being pent up with frustration for years birthed such a desperate sight, she couldn’t fathom it.

She grunted in response. Do that again and she’d lose her fucking mind.

You cupped your breast.

Ellie threw her head against the wall. She forgot how to breathe. Her nostrils were flared, and she almost slapped herself in order to convince her that this was real. This was happening.

“Holy shit” she wheezed.

“Please” you begged, and squeezed your breast forcefully. Your nippled hardened against the material, so you gave them a twist, sending a bolt of electricity right through your clothed cunt.

Ellie’s mouth was agape. She was transfixed, mesmerized. Her cheeks grew more red by the second. It was so fucking wrong, she almost told you to stop, but she couldn’t. Her voice felt dry and her brain was buzzing. Her ex best friend was so desperate for her she couldn’t even help herself.

The image of Cat went through her head. Cat seeing, walking in. Cat trembling and crying, telling her she told her so. Cat screaming at her that she’s an awful person, that she hurt her, That she should burn in hell.

Then, you took your shirt off.

And Cat was gone.

Her eyes were darting from your tits to your needy eyes. You were giving her that look she only saw in her dreams. That desperate, pathetic twinkle in your eye. She saw a girl look like that in an old porno she found. Ever since, that picture of your face replacing the actresses burned through her memory. She knew it was for her, you were showing her, but she looked like she wasn’t supposed to see, a peeping tom, a pervert. Her cunt twitched inside her tight black boxers. Cat never made her cunt feel like this.

The dainty lace bra adorned your body. you looked like an angel, eyes red from crying, cheeks still wet, chest rising up and down. She wanted to ruin you.

You stopped for a second, looked for a sign to keep going.

The room was silent, the only noises that muttered were your soft whimpers and Ellie’s harsh, uneven breaths.

“Take it off” she whispered. You almost couldn’t believe she said that. You nodded pathetically. She always knew you’d be like this. She imagined you nodding your head frantically, kneeling beneath her and undoing her belt, way too many times she wouldn’t dare to admit. Her heavy breaths were a confession to all of her sins.

You unclasped your bra, your tits spilling out of it with a sigh of relief.

Ellie was hypnotized, fully staring. She remembered the first tine she saw you in a bikini. Jesse noticed she was staring, and he gave her some advice. “Look at the ground or the sky, pretend there’s something super interesting going on there”

She didn’t need to pretend now.

“Fuck” she grunted, feeling her cunt twitch inside her briefs. Her mouth was agape, she wanted those nipples between her teeth. Her tongue slightly moved involuntarily inside her mouth, imitating the kitten licks she’d give your tits if she could. It was truly pathetic. Thank god you couldn’t see. Her fists were clenched, and she was forcing her feet onto the ground. If she pretended something was pulling her in, she wouldn’t crawl towards you and take you like she always wanted.

You toyed with your nipples, rolling them between your fingers, almost as if you read her mind.

“Spit on ‘em” Ellie demanded desperately.

“Ellie…” You whimpered, her voice was making you grow wetter by the second. If you took your pants off, she could see the wet patch that soaked through your panties, making them almost sheer. You were almost embarrassed, but it was too late now.

“Do it” she commanded.

“Do it for me” Ellie begged. She brought a hand up to cup at her perky clothed breast. She imagined it was you, your tits between her fingers. She wanted to squeeze the fat, take it in, spit on it, latch her mouth onto your nipples, slap them as you ride her thigh, or her face, or her whatever the fuck you wanted.

The saliva ran down your chest, droplets flowing at an incredibly slow pace, each and every one of them teasing Ellie, mocking her. Almost there, almost reaching your sensitive nipples. When it finally did, Ellie was breathing so heavy she almost wheezed.

You rubbed the spit all over your tits, glazing your nipples with the liquid, coating them shiny with your saliva - all for her. You were staring at ellie with your mouth open. You moaned at the sensation, making Ellie shift and slightly slide off the wall. She was gone.

“Feels so good” you whined.

“Fucking shit” She huffed. She bucked her hips, searching for that friction. She didn’t do it yet, but oh she will.

“Mhhm” you hummed, a high pitched moan escaping your lips.

Ellie almost went cross eyed.

“Need you, please” You whispered while massaging your breasts. You were squeezing the fat harshly, almost punishing yourself for being such a dirty, desperate girl.

“Show me” She begged, in between breaths.

“Show me how bad - shit”

You cupped your cunt, your hand feeling warm over it. Your clit twitched. Ellie let out a moan so deep, you almost came right then and there, all over your panties.

You circled your clit through your pants, teasing Ellie without even realizing. I can do it, and you can’t! It felt like you were mocking her.

“Take that shit off — fuck” she huffed. Her hand was resting on her thigh, pinching it. Stay down. Don’t crawl, don’t fuck, don’t cheat.

In a matter of six seconds, your pants were on the floor. You crossed your legs together in embarrassment. What if she saw how wet you were?

“Spread” She commanded.

You looked at her stupidity.

“Spread ‘em, please” Ellie begged.

You spread your legs slowly, revealing your soaked white cotton panties to Ellie. Her eyes rolled back at the sight.

“Fucking shit” she grunted.

Her hand met her own cunt and gave it a stinging slap, followed by a desperate grunt. She moved her veiny hand up and down, almost grabbing her pussy. She felt perverted, and sickly, and so, so good. The friction of her hand on her cunt was followed by a string of deep moans, chanting your name like a prayer. She didn’t even know how bad she needed it.

“Wider” She commanded.

You spread your legs so wide your thighs almost hurt. When Ellie saw that wet spot, she lost it.

“So wet” she whispered in disbelief.

“Show me that pussy” She whimpered.

“Show me that fucking pussy”

You moved your panties to the side, the cold air hitting your clit making you flinch. You swore you could cum just from clenching in and out, listening to the obscenities leaving her mouth.

“Holy shit” She moaned, and cupped her cunt forcefully.

“So pretty” she whispered. It was even prettier than she thought, glistening folds and a little puffy button poking out. She needed to see inside, everywhere.

“Spread it with your fingers” She grunted. You parted your lips with your pointer finger and your thumb, wide open for her. She saw how bad you were clenching, begging for something inside. Your puffy clit moved with every pull.

“Wanna fuck you so bad” she groaned, it was killing her.

“Need to see you Ellie, please, please” you begged.

With that whine leaving your mouth, Ellie unzipped her jeans, and pulled down her boxers slowly, revealing you of the most beautiful sight youve ever seen in your life.

Her thighs were creamy, a mound of soft, dark hair adorning her pubis. Her slick was shining on her milky inner thighs from the boxer briefs she took off slightly brushing on them. She was so wet, it almost glistened like a far away star, deep in the galaxy. Her mouth was parted and she looked famished.

Tiny droplets of sweat were shining on her forehead, making her hair stick to her face. She was a panting, desperate mess.

You couldn’t help but slide your hand up your thigh, and started running your fingers through your glistening folds. Finally. “Oh god, Ellie” you moaned. You wished those were her fingers, if you could, if you only could.

Ellie moaned like a porn star at the sight. You thought she might tease herself, might play with her cunt before doing something. She proved you wrong.

She slid two long fingers inside her aching hole, squelching sounds filling the air. She pumped them in and out, fucking herself like a madwoman. Her hungry eyes were fixated on your fingers caressing your needy cunt. Her mouth was watering, borderline drooling, soft “ah!”s escaping her lips.

You circled your clit slowly, and felt your lower stomach leap at the contact. You lapped your slick with your middle finger, and sucked on it. It was obscene. Ellie’s cunt twitched. She almost came.

“Good girl” She groaned at the sight.

“Faster” She commanded, a deep moan escaping her lips.

You fastened your pace, and she was looking you directly in the eyes while pumping her fingers inside her cunt. With every pump, you could see a milky cream coating her fingers, the sight alone made your puffy clit ache with pleasure.

It was so wrong, and obscene, and pathetic, and you almost came.

“Fucking shit — fuck yourself, show me, fuck yourself” She whimpered, fastening her pace as well. The moans that left her mouth were deep, bursting from the inside of her soul.

Her fucking ex best friend.

“E — Ellie m’close” you whined, inserting a finger inside your soaking hole.

“Can see how fucking tight you are - fuck”

“Faster, do it f’me baby faster” She groaned.

The harmony of your moans intertwined, creating an intoxicating symphony.

“Ellie — gonna cum, fuck” You babbled, drool running down your chin. You were so close, eyes rolling to the back of your Ellie filled brain.

“Please fuck me, please fuck me”

“Cu — Fuck, shit, m’cuming” Ellie grunted.

“Say my fucking name” She demanded, her words coming out so sloppy and ridiculous.

“Ellie — Ellie! Please!”

Ellie almost screamed. She wanted to tell you to come for her, wanted to hear the noises youd make, see your face twist and the screams of her name, but she couldn’t help herself, the sight of your desperate cunt and the look on your face, so stupid, so cumdrunk, so pathetic, begging her to fuck you - brought her to the edge. It errupted inside of her like a volcano, pumping and squeezing on her fingers. She rode her orgasm until it tickled and hurt.

When you came, Ellie almost shed a tear.

This wasn’t just wrong.

This was vile.

She pulled up her pants up and left without saying a word, too embarrassed to look you in the face.

When she got home, Cat was sound asleep on her bed. She gave her a delicate kiss on the cheek, and whispered;

“I’m so sorry”

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfiction #the last of us #ellie williams x you #wlw #lesbian #ellie smut #ellie williams angst

[fmhobeus]

morning sex! with nanami! it's all i fucking think about!!!!!!!

(arranged marriage au? slight somnophilia?)

he was usually up before you. like wayyy earlier. he's learnt not to bother you even though you can feel his massive weight be lifted of the bed. you know his routine by now. he goes to the gym early, showers and makes himself a cup of coffee by the time you start cooking breakfast. that's the routine, that's one you're aware of. what you don't know is that he's been watching you sleep... for like... everyday you both have lived together.

and it's !!not!! creepy, of course, you are his wife. it's not creepy, the fact that if he looks at you too long he starts to feel his pants getting tighter, a siege of blood flowing south.

it isn't wrong, when he pulls your covers down from your face. of course he just wants you to breathe easier. it's not lust. just an added bonus that he can now see your pretty lips parted, begging for a kiss and your pretty tits squished by your arms as you lay on your side.

if it's not wrong then why does he... why does he feel this way? this guilt? and why does it make him hornier?

so one of these weekends, as he told himself, he'd try his luck. it was all too unbearable for him at this point. you were fogging up his brain with these lewd images. and worst part was... you were oblivious to the effect you had on him.

it's a sunday. his body wakes up at the usual time. wee hours of the morning. you're by his side this time. it's all up to him now.

he tries to be discreet, at first. try lovey-dovey stuff first, as the internet has told him. you feel him shift in the bed and suddenly your husband's massive arms hug you from behind. the muscles tense as he pulls you to his chest. his heart is pounding. and its barely like 5 am.

"you're sleeping in?"

"yeah, weekend."

"no gym?" you ask. you both sleep face opposite sides, this is one of the few times you've had to adjust your body to his frame. you squiggle as you talk, trying to fit the soft curvature of your body with his flatter, harder frame.

"no.. it's uh... closed for maintenance today." he too has a hard time adjusting to you. to your curves, to your proximity, to how you slept in his arms like a fawn. to how he would conceal his erection to spend time like this with you. too much, too unbearable.

"oh, ok." you smiled. "wake me up if you need anything hm?"

you close your eyes once more. now something else woke you up. nanami's face nuzzled in your neck. his hands, this time, toying with your waist. his bulge apparent. it made sense now. you couldn't help but smile to yourself.

nanami kento is the beautiful man you are married to. gorgeous blonde hair. piercing brown eyes, shaped so angular that it's intimidating. perfect jaw structure. and god... that dick. he was caring and responsible too. how could a man this perfect ever love you? you were convinced he didn't. he always looked stoic, removed, disconnected from you an your relationship. he fucked you with care and gentleness and diabetic sweetness. you couldn't feel him want you. but you'd grown to want him. who the fuck has a one sided crush on their own husband?

but this... this felt different. this felt like all those fantasies were gonna come true. those moments you spent doting on him, creating the nastiest scenarios.

oh god, his soft blonde hair, unkempt and messy in bed. his eyes barely open, his body warm. he smelled like himself and not his expensive cologne. it was all so domestic. all so comfortable. how could you miss this side of nanami?

but you continued to be merry with the domesticity of it all to foresee how your perfect husband was about to perfectly split you open with his perfect dick.

#aniya writes ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა #jjk ^ ~ #nanami ♡ #nanami 😘😘😘😘😘 #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami smut #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #kento nanami #WIP !!!

[aothotties]

Sneaky Link w/ Connie

Warnings: MDNI, jealousy, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, semi-public sex, hickies, not proof read :)

Word Count: 1257

_______

Once Connie turned 18, he packed up and moved out of his parents home. He wasn’t forced to do it, he’s just always wanted to do his own thing. 

He moved in with his boys, started a small business with them too, and even decided he really fucks with tattoos. 

That is where he met you, his own personal tattoo artist. You’ve done all of his body art since he first started coming into your shop and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Deep down inside, he knew he had feelings for you when y’all first met, but Connie doesn’t “do” feelings. 

Now Connie has never been afraid of anything, but when it comes to you, this man is fucking petrified. He’ll never show it, but you make his heart race like it never has before, of course he can’t tell you that though since he has an “image” to keep up. 

Luckily, it doesn’t bother you in the slightest. You can’t deny that he’s attractive, got a great personality and a dick that will fuck you into next week. It’s just that neither one of y’all know how to properly express your feelings.

One thing about Connie though, is that if he wants something he’s going to get it no matter what. He just has to figure out how to get you all to himself. 

His original plan was to walk into the shop and just ask you out, something he’s never done before with anyone. That is until he steps in the shop and sees one of your other clients making you laugh as hard as he normally does. He can’t explain why, but a feeling of anger washes over him. 

You and your client look towards the door, you give Connie your pretty smile that makes him weak in the knees and tell him you’ll be with him in a minute. He nods and goes to sit in your office, staring down the man you’re currently working with. 

He tries to distract himself on his phone, but his attention is back on you when you laugh at something your client says. He rolls his eyes and thanks the gods above when you both walk towards the register.

“Alright, you can slide, insert, or tap your card right here.” You turn the Ipad around and wait for him to complete his payment. 

You turn and give Connie a small wave, he returns the gesture and stands up from his seat and makes his way over to you. 

“Perfect, is there anything else I can help you with?” You ask and he gives you a sweet smile.

“If you really want to make my night, you can come home with me.” He leans on the counter and waits for an answer from you. 

At this point Connie is a few steps away from throwing this man through the front door. He stays silent and waits for your response.

You smile sweetly and place a hand on top of his, Connie rolls his eyes once again and crosses his arms over his chest.

“That’s really sweet, but I’m not looking for anything serious at the moment.” 

This time Connie’s eyes lock in on you as he takes your words into consideration. Has he been wrong about your feelings for him this entire time?

“Such a shame, a pretty girl like you should be tied down by now. Have a goodnight sweetheart.” The man kisses the back of your hand and finally exits the shop.

“Sorry that took so long, Antonio is a talker.” You apologize and lock the front doors once you’re sure nobody else is inside. 

“Yeah I can see that.” He sits on the stool behind the register and pulls you in close to stand between his legs.

“How was your day?” You ask him, rubbing your hands along his broad shoulders.

“Fine, then I came to see my girl and it got better.” He responds and rubs his hands along the curves of your body.

“Ah I see, I’m your girl now?” You raise an eyebrow and look down at him.

He scoffs and leans back so he’s resting against the counter behind him.

“Shit, haven’t you always been?” He mindlessly shrugs his shoulders and this time you give him a chuckle.

“You’re funny Connie.” You remove yourself from his hold and walk to the office to count the change.

Connie watches you walk off and chuckles at your comment. He’s the funny one, yeah okay.

“Am I still funny now baby?” He asks you with a smirk on his face and his cock buried deep inside of you.

You let out a moan in response to his question and he pulls all the way out in return.

“Connie!” You exclaim, reaching for him as he backs away. 

“I asked you a question, am I still funny to you?” He grunts, pushing all the way back into your aching cunt. 

“Fuck! N-no, ‘m sorry papi.” You throw your head back and he takes that as an invitation to suck hickies on your skin. 

You tighten around his dick when his lips make contact with your skin and he bites down on your neck. 

“C-cumming! Please don’t stop!” You grab his arms tightly and arch your back off the desk as your orgasm courses through your body.

“There we go pretty girl, keep your eyes on me.” He leans down and presses his forehead against your own.

You let out a small gasp at the cool feeling of his necklace on your chest. He bites down on your bottom lip and slowly rolls his hips.

“You’re such a pretty girl, maybe I should be the one to tie you down, hm?” He takes your ear lobe between his teeth and bites down gently.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your nails dig into the skin on his back. You nod your head at his question and he smiles against your skin. 

“Say you’re mine. I want to hear you say it.” He sits back and pushes your legs up to your chest. 

He resumes the speed of his hips and you grab the sides of the desk below you. 

“I-I’m yours!” You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a mantra of high pitched moans as he continues to bully your cunt. 

“That’s a good girl, f-fuck you’re all mine.” His thrust gradually get rougher and tears spill from the corners of your eyes.

He completely folds you in half and pistons his hips in and out of you at a rapid pace, you scream into your hand as you gush around his cock.

Your mouth is wide open, yet no sound is able to come from it. Your toes curl as the shockwaves of your orgasm travel through your body.

“Awe poor thing, cats got your tongue?” He grabs your cheeks and smashes his lips against yours messily.

Your lips fall open as his pelvis grinds against your clit, he sucks on your bottom lip and chuckles.

“Fuck you’re gonna make me come baby!” He fucks into you a few more times before he pulls out and comes all over the tattoo on your lower abdomen.

“You okay sweetheart?” He grabs some napkins from your desk and begins to clean you up.

“Y-yeah most definitely.” You give a thumbs up and he plants a kiss on your forehead.

“You can tell Antonio you’ve been tied down.” He whispers in your ear and you roll your eyes at your boyfriend.

Ari

#aot smut #aot x black reader #aot scenarios #aot x reader #aot imagines #connie x reader smut #connie x reader #connie x black reader

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR NINETEEN

in which everything changes.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, smut (p in v), almost shower sex, talk of male masturbation, oral (f receiving), upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 7.7k+

→ a/n: big shout out to @myosotisa for beta-reading this chapter so that for once, it's not unedited, and it's not just between me and god.

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

19:00 ─────────────ㅇ── 24:00

DINGUS: so either these two are getting along REALLY well or they truly still hate each other’s guts

NANCE: Why do you say that?

DINGUS: when i called to make sure they weren’t dead, it sounded like they were arguing over the line. 

BIRDIE: woah woah woah, hold on. dingus. are you telling me you just SPIED on the lovebirds? or did this ‘fight’ happen during your conversation?

DINGUS: it wasn’t spying! eddie answered and rushed off the line, but it sounded like he forgot to hang up. i was just… curious.

NANCE: No, you were SPYING on them. 

ARGYLE 😎: what did they say, dude? 

BIRDIE: yeah let’s drop the morality bullshit – what’d you hear, my lovely oblivious spy? 

DINGUS: @BIRDIE NOT A SPY. 

DINGUS: but it just sounded like eddie asking her if she was, and i quote, “fucking kidding him”. He sounded weird when he was talking to me, too.

BIRDIE: the most romantic words to ever be spoken. truly. 

NANCE: Was that all you heard?

DINGUS: yeah, i hung up after that. why?

ARGYLE 😎: should’ve stayed on the line.

BIRDIE: what he said.

JOHNNY BOY: Do you people have no morals? 

HOUR NINETEEN – 10:00 AM

It becomes glaringly obvious to you that your comment had been a little too spot on after several minutes of waiting for Eddie to return. 

You hadn’t expected him to really leave you high and dry after that, to just go and take care of himself rather than include you in that process. Honestly, you thought the two of you were finally past hiding behind closed doors. But clearly, you had been wrong. Very, very wrong. And now, the consequences of your own actions were mocking you; there was an insistent, uncomfortable, unignorable burn in the pit of your stomach, and every shift of your thighs that had your underwear grazing your clit had you desperate, nearly mewling and arching your back. The longer you laid on that couch and realized what Eddie was currently doing, the more hot and bothered you grew. 

Fuck him. You’re about ten seconds away from taking care of your own problem right here, right now, on this god forsaken couch. 

Your ears perk involuntarily for any and all noises that may come from the hallway, but five minutes of silence tells you that Eddie had learned his lesson. He wasn’t going to be loud again. 

Fuck him. 

At least if he was falling apart by his own hand, he should have the decency to let you hear such, obviously. If he was going to finish what the two of you started alone with just him and his hand and the polished porcelain of his bathroom, you would have at least appreciated something to get you going, to urge your imagination to roam free through a conglomeration of both fantasies and memories. But, no – the man was so silent, you were beginning to fear he might be dead. 

Maybe he was dead. Death by blue balls. Good. Fuck him.

Your thighs squeeze together once more of their own free will, and you throw your head back violently to groan at the persistent throbbing. You couldn’t even be angry at him, not in a genuine sense, because you had insisted on talking rather than continuing whatever Deftones had started. What a dumb, idiotic, catastrophic decision. What a painful hill to die on. What a shit move on your part. 

It doesn’t take long before you make the choice to stop laying there, wallowing in your misery. If you weren’t going to take care of your problem, and if you were regretting your choices so desperately, you were an adult. He was down the hall, he was here for now, and there was nothing stopping you from just marching up to the door. This wasn’t anything like the beginning hours – the man had seen you bare before him far too many times for you to be shy. He had just been dry humping you like some teenager on his couch. 

No, you didn’t need to have shame right now. At least, not for these last five hours. 

You get up quick enough to make yourself dizzy, swinging your legs and making the soles of your feet connect with the living room floor with resounding slaps. A bit aggressive, and it might startle whoever had the displeasure of living below Eddie, but you don’t care. You have a one track mind, and you force your body into action before you can chicken out. 

You have him. At some wild capacity, the man behind the bathroom door is yours. Whether it be temporary, whether it had started before this night or would last beyond this experience, it was still a matter of fact. You have him – God, you have him so tightly that you don’t even doubt you’re the one on his mind right now as he does what you’re sure he’s doing behind this door – and it was time to accept that he has you. 

He has had you for a while, you realize a few steps away from the bathroom. The moment he had you laughing at his side in some smokey bar all those moons ago, he had first caught you in his web. You hate that it took this long, that it took this moment that should be laced with embarrassment, to let it all settle into acceptance. Like rubble of a destroyed building, the dust is clearing and all you can see is him. Him, with his stupid fucking dimples. Him, with his wide shoulders. Him, with all his twisted words and confusing actions. He’s had you in his grasp – it’s the only way anyone would have been able to get under your skin like he has this past year. 

“Eddie?” you call out as you rap your knuckles on that wooden door, a few too many times for good measure. Your ears strain now that you’re closer, thinking you might catch subtle sounds out of him. Heavy breaths, slick skin, mute whimpers. Anything.

You get nothing for a solid ten seconds.

And then, you hear him clearing his throat, obnoxiously so, before answering, “Y-Yeah?” 

Unsure. He’s stuttering, and the footing of his words is unstable. You were fucking right. 

“Are you…” you start, pinching your eyes shut, shooing away that internal wave of heat as your mind runs wild and imagines him behind the door. The way he’d be naked, the way his fist would curl around the base of his cock, the way his tip has never failed to be the exact same shade of pink as his lips- “Are you still alive in there?” 

Because I’m certainly not out here. 

“Oh, me?” he chuckles nervously, “Yeah, I-I’m good. Sorry, just got distracted!” 

By what? you nearly call in response, your dick in your hands? 

You don’t say it outloud. You have some restraint. 

“That’s fine…” you trail off, unsure of what exactly you should say all while biting your tongue. 

Your mind is still reeling for a possible ending for that thought when Eddie calls out, “I’m gonna take a shower, ‘s all. You cool with that?” 

No. No, I’m not fucking cool with that. 

“Oh!” you squeak out instead, “Yeah, yeah. That’s… that’s fine. Sorry, I’ll just…”

You trail off again as you begin to take a few steps back from the door, making your way back to the living room painstakingly slowly. You’ve hardly moved an inch when you hear the shower turn on inside the bathroom, stuttering a few times as the water begins its flow, static rising from the way it splatters into the tub. 

And then it turns off. Mere seconds later, as quickly as the flow of water had begun, the creaking in the pipes cease. You take another step back until your back bumps into the wall of the hallway, across and veered away from the bathroom door – the throbbing between your thighs still irritating and your confusion even more palpable. 

Wasn’t he going to take a shower? Did he just turn it on to get you to walk away? Were you hallucinating just how quickly the seconds were passin-

The bathroom door is suddenly thrown open with Eddie in the middle of calling out your name, those pajama pants hanging dangerously low on his hips. The moment his eyes land on your, his beckoning for you dies in his throat before he has to clear it. “Oh. Uh, hey.” 

Why were you both being so fucking awkward? 

“Hi,” you breathe out, pressing further into the wall. You felt like a child being caught doing wrong, as if he hadn’t been aware of your proximity to the door just moments before. 

Maybe he was going to find it creepy that you had lingered for so long, and were still so close. You don’t know – you can’t think clearly as you look at the bare skin of his chest and try to decipher whether the moisture gathered there is sweat or condensation from the steam of the shower. 

“Sorry, I just-” he cuts himself off this time before a hand reaches up to his hair, now down and unfurled around his shoulders. His palm presses back his bangs and you can see the moment that all the tension of awkwardness finally snaps, “Oh, fuck this. Do you want to shower with me?” 

Once it snaps for him, you feel your own clinging to it release. It slips from between your fingers slowly, and you come to the realization that there’s no heat emitting from the bathroom behind him – that moisture wasn’t from steam, he didn’t even have the water on long enough for it to get that hot. You should have realized that immediately, but your mind was working slowly through the fog. 

“You don’t have to,” you hadn’t answered him fast enough, and you’re watching him backpedal right before your eyes. 

A quick shake of your head and the smile that splits your lips stops all of his backwards movements, makes his head tilt to the side and a smirk graces his features when you finally reply, “I thought you’d never ask.” 

He shifts to the side of the doorway naturally, leaving just enough room for you to brush past him and let your shoulder knock slightly against his chest once you push off the wall eagerly. 

There’s still a puddle of water at the base of the tub, circling the drain as Eddie closes the door behind your entrance. It’s a bit redundant considering you’re the only two here, but you don’t say a word. You just let your eyes trace over the droplets of water racing down his shower curtain, properly focus in on his toothbrush on the sink and the tube of toothpaste beside it curled up over half the length. 

It hits you all at once, how this game of tension is so ridiculous. “We’re so stupid.”

Eddie is shocked by your snort, “Excuse me?” 

“We’re stupid,” you repeat yourself, “Why are we acting like middle schoolers who just held hands? You’ve seen me naked, for fucks sake. We’ve-” you cut off and turn to him abruptly, waving your hands wildly in the space between you two, “We’ve already crossed this line a million times, Eddie. And we just… it’s like, we keep putting one foot on the other side of it, dip our toes into it, and then take it back when it’s all said and done.” 

A boring dance. The two of you were taking part in the most boring dance of tension the world had ever seen, and only the four walls of Eddie’s apartment had the pleasure of being audience to it. 

You expect his laughter to come out in a bark, but it’s subtle instead, face relaxing in realization at what you mean, “Jesus. I- I mean, you’re right. But does that make us stupid? I think it’s kinda cute, personally.”

“Cute?” you lurch forward ever so slightly, grinning with your teeth. Eddie’s eyes squint up a bit from how widely he grins in return at your amusement, “What about this is cute?” 

“The way you keep getting so nervous around me,” Eddie shrugs, killing off the distance between you as he moves in front of you. You straighten up quickly, and he’s fast to tuck the loose strands of your hair behind your ear, “The way I keep getting so nervous around you.” 

“That’s not cute, that’s just… stupid.” 

“Same thing.”

“It definitely isn’t.” 

You’re close enough to kiss him. And you realize easily that this may be your favorite place in the world, toe-to-toe with him and nearly brushing noses, feeling each breath like a huff of wind on the highs of your cheekbones. 

“Agree to disagree,” he whispers before his lips duck down to yours. The hand that had tucked away your strands of hair had never left your face, you realize, palm now cupping your cheek as he tugs you closer to him. 

Warmth spreads across your chest, brings spring to all the vines you’ve been catering to for a year now. Being able to step back and call this for what it was, ridiculous, makes it all a bit easier to bear. 

It’s just his lips against yours, the shower not even running yet, the gasps that emit from both of you serving as a white noise instead. 

“Is this,” he breaks away from you, only pulling back his lips and leaving his forehead resting against yours with his hand still curled on your cheek, “still stupid?” 

“Even more so,” you nod and he moves his head with yours, almost making you laugh more, “So, so stupid.”

More kisses are exchanged, wandering hands trying to find new curves on the other’s body, before Eddie goes through the motions of turning his shower back on. You notice that from the looks of it, he does turn it on as hot as it can get. It occurs to you that these are small details you’d like to know – how hot he prefers his showers, whether he prefers to take them in the morning or at night, what scent of body wash he swears by – and that you only had so much time to learn the answer to not even half of your curiosities. 

Time. Time was not on your side. 

“You know,” you drawl as Eddie finally kicks off his pants, you soon following his lead as if this was nothing. Because it wasn’t. The two of you had been naked before each other. You weren’t two middle schoolers who had just shared a first kiss or held hands – you were two adults who had had sex, who had admitted to being attracted to each other if nothing more, “You never did say what you’re actually doing with the money.” 

“Again with that conversation?” Eddie asks, pausing with his thumbs hooked in the band of his boxers. 

“Again,” you affirm, tossing your shirt into the same corner that his pants had been discarded, “Can you blame me for being curious? Aren’t you curious what I’m doing with my money?” 

He thinks for a second as you strip off your underwear, leaving you completely naked first. “I mean, I sort of am.”

“College,” you supply easily. You don’t even wait for him to properly ask. He purses his lips and you catch the way his eyes sweep over your nude body quickly before he yanks off his last article of clothing, “College, and then all my debt. Then maybe I can start saving like a real adult. Move to some fancy city once I graduate. Make a…” you pause and make a conscious effort to not let your eyes wander as his had, “Make a real life for myself, I guess.”

“You sound so excited.” 

He’s being sarcastic, you know it, but it begs the question – were you excited about the prospective? All you had ever known was school. Your entire personality has been built thus far on being a student.

So what comes next? Settling into some boring nine to five job that hardly satisfies the dreams that were born of your major? Getting underpaid, getting bored with monotony but telling yourself you were satisfied? 

And that doesn’t even scratch the surface of the bigger questions of the future. You haven’t even spared a thought to kids, to getting married, to life past the next two years. 

“I mean… I am,” you shrug and step into the shower first, Eddie following close behind you and listening intently, “It’ll be nice to finally have the damn piece of paper to say ‘hey! I did it!’” 

“But?” he presses, scooting the two of you around in the small space so that he was standing directly beneath the spray of water. His curls flatten against his head immediately. 

“No buts,” you insist. As if you’re trying to convince yourself more of it than him. 

“So that’s all? You just want to get out of here?” he isn’t looking at you as he reaches for a bottle of shampoo, blinking water out of his eyes. 

This conversation is going surprisingly well. 

“Not here specifically,” you clarify. Your chest aches at the thought of just leaving behind all the friends you’d made, the life you had started in this city. The thought of already beginning to preemptively tear it down was enough to dampen your mood worse than the steam of the shower was doing to your hair, “I don’t know. Who cares about the future? What are you doing with your money?” 

He’s about to squirt some of the shampoo into the palm of his hand when you suddenly snatch it from him, holding up a finger and twirling it in a demanding manner. He’s shocked, but he turns for you regardless, even bending his knees as he gets the message. 

He doesn’t question the fact that you’re about to wash his hair. No protests towards something so domestic between previously sworn enemies. 

“I wasn’t lying earlier,” he starts just as you have lathered up your palms and set aside the shampoo on the shower ledge, fingertips digging right into his scalp. Even with the slight bend in his posture, your arms have to stretch to reach the crown of his head, “A new bike or guitar would be nice but– Oh,” a particular scratch of your nails has him faltering in his words, throwing his head back a bit more and humming. The throb, the ache, the burn returns. “Oh, that’s nice.” 

“Keep talking, pretty boy,” you murmur as he hums even louder. 

“Well, I… It’s not a lot of money, y’know? I mean, it is. But it also isn’t. Am I making any sense? Fuck, that feels good,” he stumbles across his point as your fingers continue small circles, and you already know without looking that his eyes have fluttered shut. 

The pit of your stomach can only rally, twisting and tumbling at his satisfaction. Something so domestic and something you had started with sweet intentions was quickly derailing, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. 

You have him. But you don’t have him. The same type of conundrum he faces with the amount of money promised to the both of you if you were to survive these hours. 

“You’re making sense,” you promise with a shy grin you know he can’t see, “Like, I know the money won’t pay off all my debts or college tuition, but it’s a good start. Anyways, as you were saying?” 

Both of you struggle to focus as he continues on, melting even further into your touch, “I dunno. Maybe if I have anything leftover, I’ll send it to my uncle.” 

His voice is strained as he’s occupied with the feeling of your hands against his scalp, and you know it’s a throwaway sentence, but the small detail of his life you’ve been awarded doesn’t go unnoticed.

Uncle? Why uncle? 

“You in debt to your uncle over a bad night of gambling or somethin’?” you try to joke as you finally release your fingertips from his scalp. Your palms come down on his shoulders as you spin him slowly, encouraging him to keep his head tipped back as he lets the water wash away the suds produced. 

Surprisingly, his shampoo doesn’t smell like boy. It’s akin to green apples, maybe something smoother beneath it all like coconut. Something sweet and something innocent. 

Maybe that’s what has him being so open to you as he explains, “I’ll always be in debt to him, but not for gambling. He raised me. My folks… weren’t the best. I owe everything to that man.” 

There are no good words to respond with. You suddenly feel selfish for pushing him to admit it, and for making that joke to begin with. 

But he only cracks open his eyes as the suds are mostly gone, looking at you through squinty eyes as he grins, “Guess I’m the boner killer now, huh?” 

You snort again (fuck, had he always been this funny?) and shake your head, finally glimpsing below his hips. 

Ironic of him to say that he was a boner killer when there he was, harder than ever for you, tip pink and glistening in a taunt towards you. 

You were both going to Hell. You were standing in his shower, talking about his uncle, both far too horny for the topic of conversation. 

“Modern day Bonnie and Clyde, but make it horny,” you manage to get out, still staring at him and resisting the urge to reach out and start something you didn’t know how to finish, “Does talking about money always get you this hard?” 

“Bonnie and Clyde were robbers, not killers,” he corrects you, “And why, yes. How did you know? Do you plan to use this lethal information against me again later?” 

A cavern in your chest screams out, when is later? Later within the next four hours, or later within the next year? Will you ever even give me a chance to use this against you again? 

You laugh along with his joke instead. 

“Absolutely. Also, who the fuck knows that much about Bonnie and Clyde?” 

You make him turn around again, and repeat a similar process with the conditioner. The entire time, you try to not think about the awareness that the same burn in your own gut is alight in him. 

He shrugs a little, bends a little more to encourage your fingertips back to his scalp. It doesn’t work — you’re focusing the conditioner on the drier ends of his curls. “I do.”

“Well, that’s just weird.” 

You work in silence as you finish threading the conditioner through and detangling his hair with just your fingers. You don’t immediately have him rinse it out, and he takes the opportunity to reward you with the same care, the same domesticity. And just as he hadn’t questioned you, you don’t protest when he manhandles you to spin and face your back to him. You let him indulge you in the same massaging motions that you had just pampered him with, let suds of that sweetness surround you as your eyes shut delicately and you lean your head back into his deliberate touches.

Same care, same domesticity, same sensuality. You never thought washing someone’s hair could be something so intimate until his knuckles are between your locks and your back is brushing up against his chest due to limited space.

“It’s not about the money,” he randomly announces to you once the shampoo has been rinsed out and the conditioner takes its place. “I mean, I figured you knew that, but… still thought I’d say.” 

“Figured as much.”

“I also wasn’t pissing,” he continues to overshare, “I know you figured as much there too.” 

Biting your bottom lip to hold back a grin, you keep the rest of your face relaxed as you nonchalantly ask, “No? What distracted you, then?” 

You can feel every deep breath he takes. The expansion of his chest only presses the two of you closer. Soon, you should both rinse out the conditioner. You should stop wasting water. The two of you should get out of this damn confining space and sleep, do something useful, make the most of the final four hours. 

Instead, you’re letting yourself get lost in billows of steam, and teasing him. And maybe that’s something useful for you. 

“You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?” 

You can hear his grin. God, you can hear his grin and those stupid dimples making an appearance without needing to see his face.

“Say what?” you ploy faux innocence. His fingers are still in your hair. He has no reason to continue to comb them through, but they remain there, grazing your scalp and brushing the back of your neck.

His chin meets your shoulder suddenly, his breath on your ear. “What did you call this earlier, sweetheart? I believe you called it… stupid.” 

Right. Stupid. 

Stupid was the ache that resided inside you for him. Stupid was the way your thighs shook from how hard they pressed together from each soft caress of his breath on the shell of your ear. Stupid was the urge to reach your arm around your back and grab onto him, any part of him, and try to pull him as closely as humanly possible — and then some. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

You’re a bad liar. And he loves it.

“Right,” he draws out the single syllable, hands leaving your hair, drifting at sea as they find comfort on your biceps, touch feather light, “You have no idea what I was doing in here. You weren’t staying by the door to see if you could hear me, trying to get a free show.” 

So you had been right in calling the two of you stupid. Neither of you had been very conspicuous. 

“A free show to what?” you keep up the act of innocence and swallow down the delighted hun when his hands move down your arms. You’re fully flush to his chest now, almost to the point of leaning your weight back against him.

“To me touching myself to you,” bold, crass words leave his lips, “To me fucking my fist to the thought of you. Squeezing my fist around my cock, trying to make it feel like that sweet pussy.” 

Your knees nearly buckle. You try to play it cool, “Oh? Is that what you were doing?”

His playful chuckle is the final straw, and his hands now on your waist are the only thing keeping you upright.

“I was.”

“And were you successful?”

How you kept your tone so steady, so even, was lost on you. 

“I wasn’t.”

One hand stays planted on your waist firmly, as if he knows he’s the only thing keeping you from collapsing in this heat between the two of you. The other dares to round to the front of your stomach, fingers splayed and fingertips almost tickling you as he lets them run down the center of your navel. He’s taking his time. Slowly, painfully, his hand travels. Down, down, down. Until his fingertips are grazing right over that fire he built inside you, mere inches from where you need him to touch you most. He has you right where he wants you, and he knows it.

And so he stops. Inches, maybe less, from where your cunt is throbbing for him. 

“Didn’t you say you were good with your fingers?” you’re trying to keep up a cool facade, but it’s becoming useless at this point. Your voice comes out a whine, and your hips subtly buck against empty air to try to encourage his touch lower.

“I did,” he hums directly into your ear. The hand on your waist becomes an arm fully wrapped around your front, and the press of your back to his chest becomes far more intentional. All of it to hold you in place as he moves his hand right over where you want him. He avoids your body’s pleas, and jumps straight to teasing his fingertips over the tops of your thighs. “Wouldn’t you agree?” 

It’s almost funny to remember how flustered he was when he’d first made the comment, how quick he had been to defend it against being something dirtier, only to now be using it against you in anything but an innocent context.

“Please,” the beg falls from your lip as you give up on the game.

It’s a combination of all his gentle touches, the feeling of his curls between your knuckles, the steam that is smothering the two of you without notice, the way you can still feel every damn breath of his. Both through his mouth now softly kissing at the lobe of your ear, and his chest that only presses more tightly to you. That tightening arm around your waist, and the subtle change of position of his knee.

You aren’t expecting it, and your feet slide apart quickly, nearly dropping onto his sweetly placed leg between yours. 

“Please what, sweetheart?” 

You can’t even recall the feeling of hatred you used to get at the nickname. Now, in its place, is something buzzing, something buttery, something contradictory. You’re dizzy with satisfaction from the way he murmurs it directly into your ear. 

“Please touch me,” you gasp when his knee brushes upwards, not quite reaching where you need him. You swear there’s a pulse now, a throbbing cry that would do just about anything to feel those hands on you, “Please, please.” 

You’re losing focus as your thoughts start to fuzz at the edges, suddenly only able to manage the words please and his name.

And it isn’t lost on him. “Look at you. I haven’t even touched you yet, and you’re already going so dumb for me, aren’t you?” 

Your stomach churns, everything in you tightens, and your pride isn’t above dropping yourself down properly onto his knee and grinding. You would if you could — his fucking arm won’t let you.

When you glance down, you realize just how tight his grip is. You can trace each vein along his forearm, catch the white of his knuckles as they curl against you.

He’s holding onto you for dear life, and yet his death grip doesn’t so much as hurt. You only feel safe, you only feel wanted. 

“Please just touch me, Eddie,” you whimper out, not caring about how desperate you sound anymore. You have no shame, no pride, no careful calculations left for the man behind you. 

His hands stop their dance across the apex of your thighs. One moment, you can barely feel his fingertips running over their softness, and the next, it vanishes completely. 

You open your mouth to protest, but all that comes out is a gasp as his fingers are suddenly on your cunt, spreading you apart at a leisurely pace. You move to grab onto his forearm for leverage but he suddenly tsks and stops all of his movements. 

“You can either have me touch you, or you touch me. But you can’t have both, sweetheart. Not right now.” 

Through the haze, you’re unable to use your words to answer, instead cracking your eyes back open and trying to crane your neck to see Eddie properly. But he’s only chuckling into your ear again, arm around your waist tightening. 

“C’mon, baby. Use your words. Which would you rather have?” he taunts, tilting his chin down and letting his nose nuzzle against the peak of your shoulder, lips barely brushing the skin. 

You would have expected to not even catch the subtle feeling of plushness on you right now between your ever-growing frustration and the water still raining down on both of you. But you do; your body is growing acutely aware of every single point of contact between the two of you as the minutes go on. Every inch of your skin is tuned into his touch and where it flows, where it leaves you, where it presses deeper. 

You open your mouth to respond to him, but you can’t. You can’t explain it: there isn’t a tightness in your throat, a pain grasp on your chest, a fear that is swallowing the words whole. It’s the opposite. All of your taut strings have gone slack, waves of surrendering to him having overcome all of your deepest anxieties. In this moment, amongst the white noise of a shitty apartment shower, all that there exists is him. The time limit slips away, the bet is a thing of the past, and the road taken to bring you both here is completely forgotten. 

His touch is able to remain light when he decides to turn you in his arm, the grip once around your waist now pressing into your lower back as you face him. You’re completely malleable for him to do as he wishes. 

Facing him, you watch all of the amusement and cockiness melt away from his features. His smirk goes soft and his face falls in awe, mouth parted as he takes in that look in your eyes. He knows. He knows that in this moment, you are completely defenseless and utterly his. 

You watch all the air leave his lungs, and feel the consequential breath that releases hit the bridge of your nose due to the proximity. “You really are cock drunk for me right now, aren’t you? I haven’t even given it to you yet and you’re just… gone.” 

If you weren’t completely under his spell at this moment, you would have burned with embarrassment down to the bone. 

You just nod. 

With this revelation, his grip on you completely transforms. It’s not just a matter of keeping you upright, but a matter of keeping you tethered to him. As if he’s afraid that the moment he lets go, he loses you. 

If you could find the words, you’d assure him that he wouldn’t. You weren’t something so fleeting, so passing. 

Without words, all you can do is show him. So you press up onto your tip-toes and kiss him. Hard, then soft. Fervently, then patiently. Achingly, and then assuredly. Every flash of contradiction between the two of you and all that has accumulated goes into the kiss as you let him find his breath again, solely by stealing yours. 

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs against your lips, before his nose rubs against the tip of yours as it begins a journey. Across your cheek, down your jaw, into the crook of your neck. You feel spouts of warm water trickle over his collarbones and against your own. 

This time, you do have the words for him. Or rather, the word for him.

“You.”

There’s no other way to put it. You just want him. 

He pulls back and stares directly into your eyes, his own brown ones swarming with varied emotions. You’re finally able to start deciphering some of them – lust, want, surprise – but not quite all of them yet. 

Before you realize what’s happening, he’s sinking to his knees. Somehow, he’s twisted you so that your back meets the cool tile of the wall, careful in watching the way it supports you during the entirety of his descent. 

He doesn’t say a word, his eyes doing all the talking necessary through wet lashes as he guides you to balance a foot on the edge of the tub and hook your knee onto his shoulder. Just as you realize what he’s doing, his mouth is on your hot cunt. 

For all the talk and thoughts about just how good his fingers were, you seemed to have forgotten just how good his mouth was. 

His tongue works away at your clit, tracing patterns before alternating to suck it sharply between his lips. He seems to have forgotten about his earlier threat, or maybe he’s just feeling merciful, as your hands instinctively reach down and wind into the roots of his wet hair. Curls matt in your grasp instantly. A harsh tug, and he’s moving his attention elsewhere, nose now nudging your clit as he circles around your entrance, pulling whines from deep within you at the teasing. 

“Eddie,” you throw your head back hard enough that you’re sure that there will be an ache to feel once all is said and done, “Fuck. Right there.”

“I see someone’s found their words,” his voice is muffled and you can feel his smirk rather than see it. 

It’s a damn pretty sight. Him, on his knees, wet curls plastering down his shoulders and back as his face is buried between your thighs. 

You can trace over each indent of muscle across his skin through half-lidded eyes, memorize the way it looks dazzling with the moisture, watch as water pools where his fingers dig into your thighs to keep you balanced. 

When his tongue finally slips inside of you, slow and stretching as the tip of his nose digs deeper into your clit, you swear you’re seeing stars. You were going to snarkily reply, but you don’t have the capacity to reply with anything other than chants of his name. Mixtures of praying to him and praying to God fall from your lips alongside curses. All muddled, all strings of whimpers and moans as he continues to bring you closer to your edge. When he finally resorts to bringing his hand back into the mix, sinking two fingers into your cunt with little warning as he returns to lazy work on your clit, you gasp out – your body lurches forward as your curl into him and your back leaves the now sticky, warm wall. 

The arm that was wrapped around your lifted leg to help you balance is quick to throw over your hips, keeping half your body still pressed to the wall. “Careful, princess.” 

Each word reverberates through you, both physically and somewhere deep in your mind, sending you even further reeling as your fingers grab onto him deeper and try to press him impossibly close. 

Princess. Somewhere along crossing all these lines, you have ventured into new territory. A territory where the nicknames get under your skin in a brand new way, slipping into your subconscious for the better rather than arising any irritation. 

Baby, princess, sweetheart. 

You’ll take whatever you can get from him. 

“Wouldn’t want you slipping and falling,” he murmurs as he pulls back, face now slick with you rather than the steam or water, “Can’t have you ruining that pretty face, getting blood all over my bathroom, now can we?” 

He’s right. God, you fucking hate when he’s right. As much as every part of your body is screaming for him to take you right here against the shower wall, you know it’s not a good idea. And you’ve really, really succumbed to enough bad ideas in these last nineteen hours. 

“Bed,” you manage to gasp out, quick to detangle your fingers from his hair and try to grab onto his shoulders without purchase due to the water still tumbling down, “Bed, now.” 

He gets the message. Rises to his feet and lets your leg fall back down, shaking as he turns to cut the shower abruptly. Without asking, he’s the one to exit into the fierce cold of the apartment first, grabbing at the flesh of your hips and guiding you out along with him. He doesn’t even bother with towels – once he has you out of that potential death trap of a tub, his lips are on yours, nipping and passionate as you breathe him in. He’s the one that maneuvers the two of you out of the bathroom, you don’t even notice when he reaches behind himself to open the door, impressively never tripping as he walks backwards and keeps your lips on his. 

It occurs to you that this is how you two work best. No overshadow of being honest with each other, no clouds of feelings getting in the way. And yet, somehow, it’s the most vulnerable you’ve managed to feel with him yet. 

You don’t want it to only be this easy when both your clothes are off. You want it to be this easy in the early mornings that you wake him up for work, you want it this easy over late night take-out and horror movie marathons. You want more cigarettes at sunset with him, soft confessionals over a rising sun. 

You can’t keep pretending that nothing has changed. You simply can’t. The fierce promise of his protection, the way his eyes stay trained on you even in the busiest of rooms. Nothing could ever erase the blooms left from him hooking his pinky with yours at the parking garage. 

All of the night is flashing through your mind, and even in the trance he has you under, you’re seeing with perfect clarity. 

It’s why just as the backs of your knees connect with his mattress, before he can throw you down and continue what was started in the shower, you’re pushing your palms against his wet chest and forcing him to look into your eyes. 

“If we do this,” you shakily begin, watching his chest rise and fall in sync with yours. Once you say these words, you can’t take them back. You’re vividly aware of it before you continue to force your voice to come out the most steadily it has the entire night, “It changes everything.” 

He blinks, eyes owlish. Once, twice. More of that emotion you finally can single out but never identify swirls like storm clouds in his vision. You wait for him to run, for him to take it all back. You wait for it all to be over – for him to deliver the final blow and leave you to collect the rubble and blood money so you can pretend this night never happened. 

“Okay.” 

Those aren’t the words of a fatal blow. You think they might send you reeling even worse, though. 

“Okay?” you clarify. If your tongue wasn’t so heavy, you’d say more. Remind him of what exactly it means to change everything. 

It seems he already knows as he parrots back, “Okay.” 

Lips meet again, and this time, they’re charged with everything. With a promise of change and a promise that maybe there isn’t a ridiculous time limit here. There is no doomsday clock between the two of you. When the clock strikes 3 PM, neither of you will vanish into thin air. 

You let him throw you back onto the bed. Your bare back meets the surprisingly soft sheets, and they erupt in the scent of Eddie. Cigarettes, a hint of weed, whatever cologne he seems to douse himself in. You can even pinpoint his shampoo amongst the fragrance now. 

It’s no longer the smell of boy that you once ran from. His hand is behind your back, but not trapped. It’s there willingly and it is caressing every inch of you that he can find, tracing out any dimples in your back he can discover as he lets your legs curl up onto his hips, kisses dappling your neck, jaw, and lips alike. 

Your vines stretch high and proud, and drink in his waves with every passing of his breath on your skin that raises goosebumps. 

You want to live here forever. In the feel of him pausing right before his cock presses into you, in the way his face scrunches up and his mouth falls agape, the haze now spreading from your mind and across both of you. Nameless chants and pleads for what was already both in the palm of your hands before you even knew what to do with it. The roll of his hips and the way his wet skin sticks to your own. Your heels digging into him, bringing him in closer, closer, closer.

Every time, it has felt this way. Something beneath the surface that has you surrendering over yourself. He has hurt you, time and time again, and you’ve let your knives be just as sharp – but the wounds scab over now when it’s just the two of you like this. 

You’re best like this for a reason. Because for once, neither of you are overthinking it. You are vulnerable and you are bare, not just physically but emotionally. Honesty isn’t a request; it is a given. You don’t just have him, you know him. Across oceans and across gardens, across midnight skies and across soft morning light. 

You have him. You know him. 

It’s enough. 

Smokey bars. His protection. Slamming doors and the clicking of locks released. The night air surrounding you and the warmth of his back as you cling to him on a motorcycle that seems to be going faster than light in your memories. That parking garage, and that hook of his pinky – a way to get closer, but also a whisper of a promise. 

He’s bled for you. He’s bled from you. 

This changes everything. 

When his hips movements become sloppy, when the knot in your stomach tightens one last time, when your nails dig into his back and leave their mark, you know it to be true. 

Everything, everything, changes. 

Eddie never really hated you, never really could, and you realize now that the feeling is mutual. 

—

You hadn’t considered exactly what the aftermath would be when Eddie first dragged you out of the shower, but you surely never could have imagined the scene now playing out. 

Him, on his back, content and humming a song you’re too tired to ask him about. His fingers are trailing mindlessly up and down your spine as you splay out across his chest. You both probably need another shower, but neither of you are willing to leave his bed for it. 

It’s not you who remembers the photo. No, you’re tired, one foot already in the door of sleep as you curl yourself tighter into his side. 

He doesn’t use your phone this time. You didn’t even realize his outdated flip phone had a camera on it. You’re not even sure if you dreamt the soft click that sounds like a camera as you nuzzle deeper into his chest.

“Everything,” he whispers, just as the edges of your consciousness begin to blacken, “Yeah, this changes everything.”

Your last thought is a curious one; will he send the photo he just took? 

Would he dare to admit to everyone how everything has changed?

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#my writing #twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #hehe was right

[httpshujii]

“You’ve got to be shitting me.”

With Suguru’s broad build filling up the narrow door frame, you couldn’t tell what seemed to bother him all of a sudden. What would bother him anyways considering the hotel you guys will be staying at has every fancy aspect you can think of.

An onsen, a world class restaurant, and even a whole theater that fits over a thousand people for God’s sake. So what is the issue with the shiniest hotel in all of Japan?

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m changing the room.”

“What? Why?!”

But he isn’t even listening, already dialing away on his phone, most probably calling Yaga to complain about whatever reason there is.

“Will you tell me what’s wrong or not?”

“Why won’t he answer his shitty phone?!”

“Geto Suguru!”

“Huh?”

You like him? Speaks the voice in your head. And with a roll of your eyes, you purse your lips as a frown tugs at your lips, “What’s bothering you so much to the point where you want to change the room?”

And that’s when the male’s pale skin reddens, a veiny hand covering half his face, a groan of a bothered soul escaping his throat, “There’s…there’s only one bed.”

“Huh.”

You shake your head, you didn’t hear him right…right?

He sighs and pushes you ahead of him. Now with the room in your view, your heart drops at the sight of a small couch, a desk, and a single king sized bed, “Oh.”

“Yaga I’m gonna commit heinous crimes on you.” You grit out as you hold your phone against your ear.

“Why?”

“You booked us a room with one bed! That’s why!”

Suguru plops against the bed and groans into the sheets as you continue taking your pajamas out from the mini suitcase you carried.

“I didn’t book the room.”

A long, very, extremely, uncomfortable silence lingers around you. Oh fuck no.

“I’m sorry, I’ll call you back later.”

Quickly hanging up you scroll through your contacts pressing on a certain someone’s and the call rings three times before he finally answers.

“I’m going to put you in a pit of spiky rocks then proceed to pour lava on your skinny body of nothing but paper thin skin and fragile bones.”

“You love me so much~”

Of course Gojo would book a room in the richest hotel and of course he’d put you and Suguru in one bedroom with one bed.

“When I catch you Satoru…” He giggles instead, you can just imagine that stupid smirk on his face and how he’s probably buying some sweets considering the sounds of people and cars beeping in the background.

“I’m doing the both of you a favor, you should thank me instead of threatening my existence.”

“You’re so funny, I’m dying.” You snap out, injecting as much sarcasm as you can into your comment.

“Anyways, I should get going and you, Miss I Have The Biggest Crush On Gojo’s Hot Best Friend, should go and snuggle up with him, no?”

“I’m gonna eat you.”

“Cannibalism is frowned upon here-”

And with that, you hang up and toss your phone on the bed, “And obviously he won’t change the room because we’re broke and he’s basically rubbing his money in our faces.”

“Mhm.”

Suguru finally picks himself up after a considerable amount of time, as if he’s relishing in the comfort of the bed, “I’ll take the couch.”

“Half of you won’t even fit.”

“I’ll make myself fit.”

“You’re stupid.”

“Am not.”

“Look at me?” And he does, he takes every single chance to look at you when you’re talking or not, when you’re paying attention in class or not, when you’re walking or not. He watches you whenever he can and he’ll never, ever get bored.

You point at yourself, spinning around in a slow 360, “Are you aware of my size?”

“Yes.”

“And I’d fit better on the couch don’t you think?”

“Yes but the bed is comfier.”

“Doesn’t matter-”

“It does.”

“Don’t. Don’t interrupt me next time please.”

“…”

“…”

“But it’s comfier-”

“Damn it Suguru, just take the stupid bed.”

“No thanks.” “I’ll bite your knee caps.”

“I’m older than you and you should listen to me.”

He’s so sassy sometimes.

“By a month?”

“Still older.”

“I hate you.”

“No you do-…Okay wha- what’re you doing?”

He holds back a laugh, crossing his arms as he looks down at your laying body. There you are, in all your stubborn glory, laying down on the rugged floor with your arms crossed over your chest. “I’ll sleep on the floor if I have to, you’re taking the bed.”

“You know I can just carry you right?”

“If you do, I’ll never forgive you.”

“Worth a shot.”

It’s late, and it’s settled, you’re gonna cramp yourself onto the couch. Despite the tightness, it’s kinda nice. Or at least that’s what you try to tell yourself because the brick that’s holding your body is not helping.

But you shall resist! You nuzzle into the pillow, the only semblance and replacement for your bed back at Jujutsu Tech.

“You sure you don’t want the bed? It’s warm.” Despite the sincerely concerned tone in his voice, you can’t help but feel like he’s egging you on.

“No thanks. Enjoy it.”

With your back facing him, you rely on your hearing to conclude that he’s finally going to snuggle into that cloud of a bed and enjoy a good night’s sleep. But no.

You should’ve known that with Suguru’s generous nature would not allow you to sleep on the couch peacefully, you should’ve known that he’d carry you no matter how many times you kick and squirm in his hold, claiming that he’d drop you, you should already know that he will never, ever, drop you, and you shouldn’t be aware of how painfully hard his heart is pounding against his chest but that’s a little hard considering you were basically sandwiched against him.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“You’re gonna complain tomorrow morning and I don’t want to hear it.”

That’s a lie, he loves when you complain.

“That’s not my problem.”

“Just- please? We can put a pillow in between us…”

That seems to shut you up and with a sigh of relief, you succumb to the urges. With his promise kept, he places a pillow between you. And as morning rolls around, Suguru can't help the heat that engulfs him at the sight of the pillow long gone and instead your little body nuzzling against his.

@b0nten : IM SO SORRY IT TOOK THIS LONG

#[𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧] #✶≼[JUJUTSU KAISEN] #ஜ˳༄꠶ SUGURU #ఌ︎. [SUGURU] #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu geto #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk geto #suguru #suguru geto #suguru x reader #suguru x you #suguru x y/n #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto

[nisuna]

Need more yuuji smut!!

So hear me out-

bestfriend!yuuji finding your depressed ass in the park while it's raining and you're soaked. So he takes you home and take care of you and puts you to sleep in jis clothes.

Then wakes you up by eating you out and then .. you know.. the rest of the stuff

Holy shit am I in my angst era? 😭 Yuji is 100% my comfort character, so this was very nice to write. He's so boyfriend oml I love him so much<3 I don't even care if this does well or not. I really needed this, tysm for the idea!!<3

⚠️ If you or anyone you know struggles with their mental health or has thoughts like these, please look up your local s*uic*de prevention hotlines. Everybody deserves to get help, and everyone deserves to live. It might not always be as easy as in my little story, but please look after yourselves, I love you all so much and thank you all for all of the love and support🫶🏻 As someone who's been struggling with their mental health ever since their early teens I can say that I definitely can't speak for everyone on this matter, but maybe some will find comfort and familiarity in this

TW: angst, s*icid*l ideation, mentions of declining mental health, hurt and comfort, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, body worship, nipple play, body appreciation, mating press, confession, a lot of crying, this is so dear to my heart, supportive!bff!yuji

~2,8k words~

<3masterlist<3

--------mature themes ;strictly 18+ MDNI-----------

Everything has been fucked lately. Your job sucks, school isn't going great, your social life is almost nonexistent, your family is a mess and you just want some peace and calm. You've been home constantly, but you just can't stand it anymore, which is exactly why you went outside for some fresh air. And as if the universe was giving you the middle finger as well, it started raining. But you just couldn't be bothered anymore. Life sucks and your mental health is declining. So you don't even flinch at the rain hitting your lowered head. You don't care that your clothes are soaked at this point. You just sit there and take it. You've been sitting here for what feels like hours. There has been multiple nosy on lookers that passed by mumbling. Some of them showed concern, but some of them were threw disgusted looks at you and assumed you're some kind of junkie that's loitering around in their peaceful park. You couldn't care less, nobody was actually brave enough to approach you anyway, so you let them talk.

It's getting cold, but you can't bring yourself to move. You're soaked and it's getting dark, but you feel like you have nowhere to go. You're starting to feel numb, your hands and feet are cold and you almost can't feel them anymore. This is actually quite nice, you're neither sad nor mad, you feel empty, but it's not uncomfortable like it usually is. You feel calm, you're not worried. You think that freezing to d*ath might actually be a good way to go. It would be like falling asleep without having to ever wake up again. For the first time in weeks you felt yourself smile. You've made up your mind, nobody will miss you anyway so why bother. But as you were about to lie down, you heard a familiar voice screaming your name.

"What the hell-", you thought to yourself as you sat back up and looked around. You didn't have to wait long before seeing a familiar figure run towards you.

"Y/N!!! Where are-? Oh my god there you are. I looked everywhere for you. What are you doing?", he reached out to grab your shoulders, only for you to flinch away.

"Yuji, what are you doing here?"

"Well, you weren't picking up my calls and I got worried." When you didn't give him an answer, he continued, "Are you alright? Whoa you're soaked and my god you're ice cold c'mon let's get you home. I don't want you to get sick.", he grabbed your hand, trying to get you off that bench. But you didn't budge.

"Y/N? What's wrong c'mon let's go-"

"No, I'm fine, really. Just leave me be."

"What are you even saying? How could I? You are in no condition to be left alone. It's freezing and you're soaked c'mon let's go home-"

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE GODDAMN IT!", you screamed and felt tears leave your eyes. Shit. When you reached up to wipe away at your eyes, Yuji stopped you and wiped your tears with his sleeve instead.

"Y/N I don't know what's going on, but please let me help.", he knelt down, squeezing your trembling hands and giving you a warm smile.

"Why do you care so much?", that came out way too wobbly for your liking.

"Why do I care? Y/N, you're my best friend of course I care. How could I not? Look at you."

You were at a loss of words, so he continued. "Is it okay if I touch you more?" Nod. As soon as you gave him the okay he pulled you into a tight hug. It took you a bit to relax, but you eventually gave in and let your emotions run wild. You were shaking, crying loudly in his embrace. All the built-up tension of the past weeks came flooding out, but he was there to catch you. He held you close as you let go. He didn't say a word until you calmed down a bit.

He pulled away to take a look at your puffy face. "Let's go over to mine, hm? What do you say?"

"Fuck it.", you thought as you nodded and got up.

"Want me to carry you?"

"No, that's embarassing. I can walk alright.", you huffed.

"Don't worry, it's late. Nobody will see."

"Okay."

After he wrapped you up in his jacket, you got on his back and let him carry you to his apartment. He's so warm and smells really good. You subconsciously nuzzled your face closer to him. Falling asleep like this would be way nicer than alone. You thought of that as you closed your eyes and hugged him tighter.

Luckily, he only lived a couple blocks away from the park. He was gentle when he set you down as soon as you arrived.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it.", there it was again, his sweet smile. "You should go take a bath before you get sick. I'll lend you some of my clothes." Nod.

------

You felt like a new human being after the warm bath. His clothes were also warm and smelled like him. It was oddly comforting. Has he always smelled this good? Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice.

"Oh wow, you look better already.", he grinned.

"Yeah", you cracked a smile back at him, "I do feel a lot better. Thanks a lot."

"Of course! Now, what do you want to eat, you must be starving? How long were you out there anyway?"

"All day actually...", you confessed.

His shocked expression made you giggle as he pushed you into his kitchen.

After a good meal he said you could go sleep in his bed. He'd sleep on the couch tonight. But you stopped him. "I don't want to be alone. Can you sleep with me tonight."

"Sure, I thought you needed some space and didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Can we cuddle too?"

"We can do whatever you need."

That's how you found yourself back in his arms for the nth time today. The atmosphere was calm, as you were exchanging occasional remarks while watching something. You don't know what overcame you, but you just felt so safe and taken care of that you leaned in for a kiss. However, you quickly pulled away when you felt him stiffen up and not kiss you back.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. God, I'm so stupid. You probably hated that. Shit, please don't hate me-"

"No, please calm down, it's alright. It's not that I don't like this. It's just..."

"Just what?"

"You're in a very fragile state right now. I don't want you to do something you might regret."

"But I'm sure, I really want this-"

"Sleep it over. Just one night and if you still feel like it tomorrow I'm down. I'm here for you. We can cuddle all you want, though. I just don't want to take advantage of you."

You shot him your biggest pity pout and when that didn't work you gave in. "Alright, alright, I guessss.", you huffed and fell into his embrace. Both of you didn't talk much after that, there was a bit of tension, but you didn't act on it. When you finally drifted off to sleep it was enveloped in his warmth and smell.

You haven't slept this well in a long time. And you definitely haven't been woken up this nicely in a long time, either.

After such a good night's sleep you didn't expect to wake up to your best friend between your thighs, lapping away at your pussy.

"Hi, good morning", he rasped, morning voice heavy. "You just looked so cute wiggling around in my arms and when I checked you were already so wet down there. Sorry, I couldn't resist.", he said while softly kissing up your thigh.

"It's alright, let me wake up first, though ah-", you couldn't finish your sentence, because your head snapped back with a moan, as he dove back between your legs.

"Sorry, but I need this just as bad as you do. You taste so good. God, I've been missing out on this this whole time? Just lay back and let me take care of you."

You couldn't say no. Not that you were able to say anything at all with his skillful tongue and fingers working your cunt open. He made you a whimpering and sensitive mess in a matter of a few seconds.

"Shit, how are you so good?", you let out a drawn-out moan, but didn't get an answer from him. His actions spoke instead of him, as he had you cumming on his tongue soon after. Once he licked you clean he slotted his body between your legs and kissed you nice and deep.

"Mmh", you moaned against his lips, tasting yourself on his tongue.

"Tastes good, right?", he grinned.

"Shut up", you playfully hit his chest, grinnig right back at him.

"Alright, my turn.", you smiled, trying to get him to lie down only to be pushed back, as he got on top of you again.

"Nope."

"Hey! Not fair, I wanna taste you, too.", you pouted at him.

"Maybe next time. Today's all about you, I don't want you to lift a single finger. As I said, lay back and let me take care of you."

That was an offer you definitely couldn't refuse. So you gave him a nod and waited for his next move. His next move was a very welcome one, as he finally rid him himself of his shirt. You always knew he was well built from years in the gym and other sports. But seeing him like that up close made you gush. His front was mouth watering, and his arms were to die for. He was huge. You would've rubbed your legs together to ease your pain if he wasn't keeping your legs open with his body between them. You didn't even notice you were staring until he spoke up.

"You're practically drooling."

"Fuck, sorry.", you shrieked looking away.

"Don't sweat it. Oogle me all you want, I dig it.", he smiled, pulling your face back in his direction.

"Can I touch you?"

"What kind of question is that? Go for it!"

His skin's so soft, but the ripples of his abs and chest are brick hard. He let you explore his body before grabbing your hand and giving it a gentle kiss.

"My turn.", he whispered against your fingers before pulling your shirt up and exposing your tits. Your nipples were already hard from all of the stimulation earlier.

"Fuck, they're so pretty.", he whispered, grabbing one in each hand and giving them a hard squeeze.

"Shit.", you moaned, back arching off the bed and pussy rubbing against his hard cock. To make matters worse, he leaned down, licking a thick stripe up your neck and pinching your aching nipples between his fingers.

"Off. Now.", he demanded, already helping you pull the shirt over your head. You were finally fully exposed and he ate it right up. He leaned back down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and massaging your other breast. He made sure to pay equal attention to both. It felt really good, but you were getting impatient, already grinding against his hard crotch.

"Yuuji~~", you moaned at a particularly hard suck. "Don't tease. Pleasee, I need you.", you whined.

"Shit, sorry I got distracted. Wait here, I'm gonna go get the condoms."

Before he could leave you, you stopped him.

"No, wait, please don't. I want to feel you.", you said, already digging your nails in his arms at the mere thought of doing it raw.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive.", you smiled reassuringly.

"Fuck, alright. Got it.", he swore and rid himself of his boxers.

Once again you were staring. He was bigger than you thought. You definitely couldn't wait any longer. You needed him inside of you immediately.

He didn't make you wait long before he started to slowly bottom out. Your moans grew embarassingly louder with each inch that filled you up.

"Shit, you're so tight. Please loosen up, you're gonna kill me."

"Sorry, it just feels so good.", you mewled back arching and pressing your soft tits against his hard chest. "Kiss me, please~~" He immediately obliged, crashing his mouth against yours. It was so raw and messy when your tongues kept mashing together, but it just felt so right.

"I'm gonna start moving now. I'm gonna fuck you so good."

You nodded and pleaded. Your wish was his command, so he finally picked up his pace. And god, was he good with his hips. With each thrust and shift of your legs, he kept hitting you deeper and deeper until you practically saw stars. It's so cliché, but you felt like you were in heaven.

Your nails kept grazing his broad back and shoulders, but you didn't want to hurt him, so you held back. As if he had read your mind, he leaned down and whispered against your ear.

"Do it. Mark me up, it doesn't hurt. Please don't hold back."

So you didn't hold back anymore. You let your emotions run wild, exploring his body with your hands. Shyness long forgotten, as you left long red streaks all over his back, occasionally pulling him down for a kiss.

The world stood still. You never noticed before, but he has always been there for you. He was the only person that you ever felt loved by. How had you never noticed. Even if you two never said it out loud before, you loved each other. It had to be love. You felt overwhealmed as his fingers slipped between your bodies and started rubbing thick circles in your sensitive clit. Your breath hitched as the words you kept secret for far too long came tumbling out.

"I love you, Yuji. I love you so much, thank you for always taking care of me. I only have you in my life. Thank you, thank you, thank you so much. Please never leave me, I need you."

If he was taken aback by your words, he didn't show it. He just pressed his lips against yours and kept rubbing and moving his hips until you came undone. And as you were moaning and arching your back, he finally answered.

"I love you, too. So, so much. I always have. I promise I will never leave. No matter what happens, I got you. Forever.", that's when the dams broke down and tears were spilling from your eyes. You just hugged him close and thanked him.

Not long after, he was reaching his limit as well. So he hoisted your legs over his shoulders and pounded away until he filled you up to the brim. All the while he was kissing your tears away and saying how good you were for him and how well you did.

When his hips finally came to a halt, he gently put your legs down and kissed you again. He was gentle when he pulled out and you winced as you felt his cum drip out of you and onto his sheets.

Immediately after, he pulled you close, hugging you like he was about to lose you and you were able to calm down a bit. But the bad thoughts came back as you whispered against his skin.

"Today was so stressful and you must've been worried sick. What if I have another breakdown. I don't want to be a burden. I don't want to stress you out. I don't want to break your heart if anything happens to me."

"Y/N, look at me.", he begged, hands on your cheeks.

You finally looked back up at him, tears stinging your eyes.

"You're not a burden.", he whispered, giving your forehead a gentle kiss. "I will protect you forever. For as long as I live, I will always be here to catch you. No matter what happens. You're not alone anymore. You don't have to endure everything silently and on your own. I promise, things will get better. I will be here each step of the way. I love you so much, so please don't leave me."

You wanted to believe him, you wanted to get better. Maybe you finally could with his help. It's a big gamble, but you're gonna bet all of your cards on this relationship. After a long pause, you gave him a silent nod and burried your face in his chest, all while he was gently patting and kissing your head.

Life and everyone else might be shit, but at least you got him now. He was worth living for.

--------

If you read this far, thank you so much<3 I hope I can make some lighter and happier content soon, but I'm on a roll right now *sigh* Please stay healthy and look after yourselves, mwah

Hope to see you all very soon<3

#jjk smut #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #takes with nini♡ #jjk angst #jjk scenarios #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen x reader #itadori yuji x reader #yuji x reader #yuji smut #itadori yuji smut #itadori yuuji smut #itadori yuuji x reader #comfort character #yuji itadori smut #yuji itadori x reader #yuuji smut #yuuji itadori x reader #yuuji x reader #yuuji itadori smut #itadori smut #itadori x reader #yuji itadori x you #yuji x you #yuji x y/n

[justalia]

stop assigning meaning to the physical world.

stop assigning meaning to something that is only reflecting you.

it is always reflecting what you have inside, constantly and continuously.

the 3D should arise no interest in you.

you gave it to yourself in imagination and that’s MORE than enough. you have it. you declared it to be yours.

the 3D is not manifesting, it has no power and since your body, your brain, your thoughts belong to the human flesh version of you they have no power.

yes, you read that right.

it is not your human version manifesting, it is not your human body and not your brain since like everything else physical it belongs to the 3D.

alia in her physical human form can only TRY to manifest.

the 3D is powerless and so it’s your human body. it is powerless. it can’t do anything,

it can’t make anything happen.

you CANNOT manifest with your human brain.

your human body and all the emotions and thoughts attached to it are just there. they belong to the 3D and are powerless UNLESS YOU (THE INNER MAN, GOD WITHIN YOU) GIVE THEM POWER.

your human self is pathetically powerless. stop giving it so much power by being scared of your own thoughts, emotions and feelings.

YOU aka THE INNER MAN, PURE CONSCIOUSNESS are giving them power.

YOU ARE GOD.

god does not exist outside of you, manifestation is what prayer is because god exists INSIDE of you. it is within you.

it gets me so frustrated when i see people asking me if having it in imagination is enough. and it’s not because i don’t feel for you or i think you’re dumb af (sometimes i do lmao) but it’s because I KNOW how tired you are I KNOOOOWWWWWW how much it sucks to be in this state of trying.

BELIEVE ME WHEN I TELL YOU I WAS SO FUCKING TIRED.

i was constantly in a war in my own mind thinking i had to change my thoughts or constantly look for a specific feeling/emotion. i was SO tired of being scared in my own mind, it’s truly the worst thing ever because there’s no escape. if you feel trapped and scared and you’re constantly trying to prove yourself in YOUR OWN mind THERE IS NO PEACE. there is no escape and you don’t know what to do.

there is no escape because our imagination is all we got and ever will have and if we make that our hell you’re gonna live a miserable miserable life.

i was SO tired of being triggered by the 3D and blaming myself for what i was seeing, i was in a constant self-sabotaging cycle. i was looking outside for permission to just believe when everything is within, even permission to just believe it yes! that’s within you!

and i was wondering what was i doing wrong.. well, news flash alia if you’re tired you’re not in the state you want to be.

i knew manifestation wasn’t supposed to be tiring, i studied my shit! i knew it! but i still found myself trapped in my own mind.

i decided i had to be honest with myself, i had to stop excuses and reason on why and how i was supposed to believe.

“why am i seeing the opposite? why am i seeing just movement and not my full manifestation?”

did you ever really shift your state?

be honest.

be honest with yourself because you don’t gain nothing by lying to yourself.

“well… i feel like i’m doing it right but i still cannot see my manifestation”

are you doing it right? are you?

are you doing it right if you’re acknowledging your manifestation isn’t real just because it isn’t physical?

“i don’t understand why did the opposite happen what am i doing wrong?”

why are you acknowledging the 3D as the real reality? why are you taking ANYTHING the 3D shows you as fact?

did you sit with the concept that imagination/consciousness is the only reality?

did you internalize it?

because if you did you wouldn’t be bothered at all by ANYTHING the 3D is showing you EVER.

no, not even the “positive” things should faze you.

why do you care what the physical world shows you if it literally means nothing?

the 3D is never gonna fulfill you on its own.

that sp coming in, that money in your account, that dream body in the mirror, that dream face, that job is NEVER gonna fulfill you.

YES! NEVER! THE 3D WILL NEVER FULFILL YOU.

harsh truth?

well, it’s the truth.

you could have your sp telling you how much they love you and you could still not believe them.

you could look in the mirror and have that dream body or dream face and still find A MILLION things you want to change and be insecure of yourself.

you could have that dream career and still feel like a failure.

you could have a million dollars in your bank account and still feel financially insecure and unhappy.

why?

because we are always living in imagination no matter what the physical world is showing you.

look back at your life and tell me i’m wrong.

personal examples:

*TW: mention of ED experiences*

i remember when i was a teen i had what some would consider a “dream body” and i still felt ugly, fat and had an eating disorder.

i used to gain and lose weight continuously because i was NEVER satisfied with how i looked, i wanted to be skinny but i was never skinny enough. i wanted to be pretty but i was never pretty enough.

there was ALWAYS something i could change and improve.

i had people complimenting me on my body and on my face, did i care?

did i care even ONE bit?

no i didn’t. no matter how close i was to the beauty standard i was NEVER satisfied with my appearance because i wasn’t accepting it inside.

i believed what I WANTED TO BELIEVE AS TRUE IN IMAGINATION.

yes, i had people telling me “omg you lost so much weight, you’re so skinny!” and i looked in the mirror and still thought “i’m so fat, just a few more pounds and i’ll be satisfied”.

spoiler: i wasn’t.

clearly this is not a fun circumstance to be in and it is mental health we’re talking about but i can make less harsh examples.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

my sp was PURSUING ME and i still saw her as a liar and a manipulator because of my trust issues.

i had her telling me “i want you so bad these other girls are nothing compared to you” and i was whining to my best friend and complaining about how i “simply could not trust her”…

you may ask me “wtf is wrong w you alia why did you think that?”

and idk what to tell you tbh i just trusted “my gut” (aka my imagination 💀) because in my mind there was no way she could be genuine…

poor thing never even did me wrong and i still trusted my imagination so strongly disregarding every cute thing she was telling me.

to the point i was telling her i didn’t wanna be with her and we could never be together because i could never trust her (i had made up in my mind this persona for her that proved to me she was unloyal and not trustworthy) and she would reply to me things like “why the fuck do you not believe me” or “why the fuck do you not want me” and then when she acted according to my script by ignoring me (obviously she would ignore me tf cause eiypo aside why would she want to entertain someone that says “i don’t want you”) i would be like “there you go, i knew it”.

this is funny now because i can see how i always blindly trusted my imagination and had blind faith in it being FACT when it came to the negative things.

if it’s that easy for the negative stuff why would it be any harder for the positive stuff?

why?

because you think that good things never come easy?

because YOU think that you need to work hard to get the good stuff?

who is thinking that?

YOU!

who is making up that assumption?

YOU!

the physical world WILL NEVER be able to provide enough proof for you to believe you are who you want to be unless YOU believe it.

you can’t reason your way into faith and it’s true because i CONSCIOUSLY applied the law properly multiple times (gave myself more than enough proof that this shit works) and still found myself in this state because the proof is never enough if you don’t JUST believe.

read this thread i made:

faith is KEY idk how else to tell you, faith in yourself is the ONLY thing you truly NEED. when you don’t believe that you have what you want simply because you said it you are sinning because YOU ARE GOD.

by lacking faith in yourself you lack faith in god. you are sinning.

i know you want to drop the need to have it in the 3D, i know that deep down you’re desperate to drop the need for it and just believe that having it in imagination is enough.

i know how you are feeling exactly.

you are desperately looking for permission and proof to just believe when you actually should JUST do it.

it’s always gonna be a leap of faith, faith isn’t built, it isn’t something you create, it is something you surrender to.

“but if i stop wanting in the 3D will it ever show up?”

you shouldn’t give a shit about when, if, or how the 3D conforms to what you have inside if you truly and DEEPLY understand that imagination is the only reality.

asking yourself if the 3D will conform if you drop the need for it is batshit crazy bc again THIS IS HOW THE WORLD WORKS.

IMAGINATION EXPRESSED IS ALL THE WORLD IS!!!!

THE PHYSICAL WORLD IS JUST IMAGINATION.

asking yourself if the 3D will conform is the same thing as asking yourself if the apple will fall to the ground if you drop it.

yes, you read that right.

law of assumption is just as real as the law of gravity.

it’s how the world works whether you believe it or not.

idk how else to tell you this but please just allow yourself to surrender, give yourself permission to believe in imagination being the only reality and not needing it in its physical form. because at the end of the day the 3D being “positive” does not equal to true fulfillment.

allow yourself to feel the peace of having it for the sake of feeling good.

give permission to yourself.

“but what if it doesn’t work?”

yeah what if?

what’s the worst that’s gonna happen?

you not getting what you want and that’s the same exact miserable life you’re living now.

now that we’ve established that you have nothing to lose by just believing give yourself permission to do exactly that.

just have faith.

hold your own damn hand.

[decolonize-the-left]

(to preface this, i am white. figured i should make that known off the bat) i wanted to come bounce an idea off of you that i've been rolling around in my head for a bit. i have this pet theory that, for the population ill call here "white progressive queers who know very little about poc and racism", a large underpinning of this group's interaction with poc is a Fear of Fucking Up and more generally, moral purity thought. they (maybe even "we"- im still hopefully learning myself) get so paralyzed by this idea and line of thinking that goes something like this: "1) since i know nothing about poc & racism, then 2) clearly in discussions about these topics, i will fuck up and say something wrong or perhaps even Bigoted, which if i did 3) makes me an Irreparable Ontologically Evil Racist, hence 4) i should just be quiet and never ask questions/speak on these topics" which then results in said White Progressive Queer and those around them never learning. i wanted to know what you think abt this and tell me if im on the mark or not

also thank u for the work u do on this blog, ive found so many helpful resources through you

You're right. In my experience that's exactly how it is.

I want to add tho: yes they're uncomfortable that they might fuck up and be considered racists sure, but a huge part of that stems from the massive inability to place the discomfort where it belongs. Which is with their own guilt.

Instead they blame the conversations for making them uncomfortable.

And let's take some worthy notes here: this is not how white people feel all the time. Because white people are not uncomfortable making these fuck ups in front of other white people.

So it's not that the conversation is uncomfortable. They are made uncomfortable. And they are made uncomfortable because even when discussing anti-racism they step into the role of oppressor (the little fuck ups or accidentally bigoted comments) so naturally and God forbid other (not white) people can See how easy it is.

My advice for white people that are like this (that nobody asked for) is

Your fuckups do not define you but how you react to them does

Listen, respect, learn

That's it. That's the whole list. Say something bad? Apologize, but don't over-explain yourself. Ask how to fix it. Google how you fucked up so you understand why it wasn't okay. Google again to get idea of how your fuck up hurts people. Google some more to make sure you don't do it again. Go to some safe space and ask some clarifying questions. Listen, respect, learn.

Maybe the people you fucked up with don't forgive you and that's okay, they don't have to. But YOU won't ever make anyone feel bad or less than in the same way ever again and that's what matters.

Having one less person making racist comments matters even if it's a struggle for that person to get to that point.

I need y'all to understand that none of you are gonna just wake up being suddenly perfect anti-racist allies. And we will literally never ever have allies like that if y'all refuse to even sit with your own discomfort.

•°•°•

This weird morality issue white people have over looking racist is also just such a non-problem. Like if y'all want a PoC perspective: white people are already being racist ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ ....we Already see y'all as racists. And also I'm gonna experience racism anyway so I'd rather it be because someone was just being ignorant on the path to anti-racism.

Y'all are so worried about how shit Looks that you can't be bothered how really things are? Like you're so afraid of looking racist you'd allow yourselves to continue being actually ignorant and casually racist. And to avoid what? Being uncomfortable for a minute? Being called-out? A mean comment?

We are trying to stop hate crimes and genocide. Like that's what we are dealing with okay. Accountability for your actions is an acquired taste but I think y'all can handle some discomfort considering.

#every time im confronted with the idea that white feelings are why BIPOC are being killed daily i get umhinged tbh #like i might die if i call the cops cuz YOUD feel bad if you talked about racism? AND YOURE JUST KEEP NOT DOING IT?? WHY #asked #answered #sorry #some asks just like #do this to me #white people like this make me wanna shake them back and forth viscerally #whiteness

[luvring]

PUT YOUR HAND IN MY POCKET

suna x gn!reader | fluff :-) he teasingly calls you beloved once and you jokingly say you'll kill him. LOL

“why are you being so stubborn?”

“why are you being so stubborn?”

“can you just let me hold your hand in my pocket?”

“i pulled your hand to my pocket first,” you say exasperated, though there’s an amused lilt as your fingers tighten around suna’s, trying, again, to pull his arm closer.

he rolls his eyes. “first doesn’t matter if my pocket’s better.”

“oh big if true,” you scoff, “not when they have those stupid fucking zippers.”

the zipper of all things isn’t what rintarou expected you to bring up during your argument—or whatever this was. he snorts. “what the hell is wrong with pocket zippers? you hate the safety of your belongings?”

he shifts so he’s perpendicular to you, just so he can make a show of using his right hand (left still holding yours) to zip his pocket up and down, the noise loud with no near traffic or people.

you move to swat and stop him, but he only starts to shuffle out of your reach—the two of you forming a deformed circle in the light layer of snow beneath you. it’s an inefficient fight considering you’re still holding hands, and every quick dodge instinctively gets rin to tighten his grip, only pulling you back into range.

“rintarou—”

“yes, beloved?”

and then he has that grin—that stupidly attractive grin on his face he has when he’s teasing you and winning—and you can’t bring yourself to hate the fact that you have a matching one.

you laugh when he almost trips and curses. “oh my god, rin, it’s ’cause i hate the feeling of the zipper against my wrist, you annoying shit.”

“sounds like a skill issue?” he taunts.

both of you have stopped moving at this point, though the winding path of footprints in the snow is evidence enough something happened here. rin's an arms width away when you squint and huff. “i’ll kill you. not now, but one day, suna rin.”

only then does he stop deflecting your attempts, and you notice the sound of rin's zipper no longer fills your ears. you move back to where you were so you can rest your head against him, and he shifts closer so you don’t strain your neck.

the fog of his breath floats away in the chilly air as he lets out a sigh. “okay.”

you don’t bother to look at him. “okay to killing you?”

“no, you couldn’t kill me with 6 months to prepare—wouldn’t kill me even if it meant winning the lottery.”

whatever comeback you can say is a lie since he’s right, and only manifests in a weak bump to his arm.

“i meant my pocket. fair enough,” he ignores your silent response. “i just wanted to see how hard you’d try. i don’t like the zippers either.”

that alone is enough makes you snap your head. “rintarou.”

he smiles at you, feigning innocence, then laughs softly. before you gain the energy to shove him, he’s already putting his hand into your much more comfortable pocket.

you fail to get the smile out of your voice, “i hate you.”

rin rolls his eyes before pulling you closer into his side. his thumb rubs the back of yours as he replies, “love you too.”

typing big if true and thinking of blooming panic character xyx... kept reading it in his voice. Big if true. raahhh... sunarin....

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gn!reader #suna x reader #suna fluff #haikyuu fluff #suna x gn!reader #writing this faster than any of my essay paragraphs ouhh... fawwk... #sunarin save me...sunarin... save me sunarin...