#looked at the drawings too long now i don't like them

[akxmee]

𝗜 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗟𝗜𝗘𝗦, 𝗜'𝗟𝗟 𝗘𝗔𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗠 𝗨𝗣. //𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎.

choso x stalker!reader

She was obsessed with her cute neighbour, so she always made excuses to enter his house. He knew it, and still let her in.

14k words.

Tw: creepy things stalkers do, mentions of locking people in, obsession. There's no +18 scenes, only a few heated kisses.

'Choso Kamo.'

That's the name of one of your computer's documents. It was the last among the rest of the files, locked with a password and completely secured.

Why, you may ask?

Well, let's put it like this. Everyone has a favorite thing, don't they? Kids have a favorite ice cream flavour, teenagers have a favorite TV show they always watch no matter what, adults have their favorite company to make deals with... Well, you had a favorite too. It was Choso Kamo, your adorable neighbour who moved in next to your house not so long ago.

He was your favorite person, your favorite hobby.

Collecting photos of him was something creepy and you felt bad for it at first, but he looked so cute playing with his cats in them that you started to enjoy having little albums in your carpet about him. You even dedicated a whole schedule to the man; writing down when he worked out, whenever he ate, when he started drawing as he usually did thrice a week..he was just so perfect, so made for you.

Yeah. If god exists, he made Choso just for you.

Fate has intertwined you two the moment he became your neighbour, you were so sure of that. Not only was he totally your type, you guys had a lot in common!

You two liked cats, you liked the same bands, you both liked the same food, enjoyed the same shows, read the same genres when it came to books..you even started to like crafting too when you first saw him working on something at his garden! Yes, the look on his eyes as he sawed the wood, the sweat on his forehead falling as he drove the screws and the exhausted breaths he left as he carried those heavy pieces into his house drove you head over heels, so now you like crafting too! Not because of the hobby itself, but because choso looked so good doing it that you may aswell like the days he crafts something.

Besides, it was tha reason you were working right now. A lemonade with a refreshing effect, that's what you were making for your hardworking neighbour. You added the perfect amount of ice that you knew he loved, pouring the liquid in a cute vase and heading to his home to pay him another visit.

Yeah, another visit.

You visited his house frequently, always having a excuse to do so. And somehow, he was kind enough to always let you enter! Now you both were in "friendly neighbour terms", but you wished to get even closer. Because you could pat his shoulder, but you wanted to hold his hand and because you could talk to him, but you craved to kiss him. Everything you desired was proximity, closeness, being able to call him withouth making any dumb excuse.

But that was something that required patience and insistence, just how you were being right now.

—Y/N? Is something the matter?

Ah, that sound got you out of your trance. You looked up, finding choso who just opened the door. He looked so damn good, and you melted just by the way his tired eyes focused on your figure.

—Not really. I could hear the saw from my house, so..

He scratched the back of his neck, giving you an apologetic smile.

—I figured you did, sorry. I'm crafting some furniture for my house.

You shook your head.

—No, no! It's okay, I understand. I knocked just to give you this, you looked...—Your eyes analyzed him, fighting the urge to drop any compliment. —..exhausted, and i thought you would enjoy this.

The black haired man looked at your hands only to see you offering him the vase of lemonade. He raised his eyebrows, his lips curved in what almost seemed like a cute smile for a second. He grabbed the vase you gave him.

—That's so thoughtful of you, thanks.

He smiled, you nodded.

—Want to come in so i can give you a drink in return?

That's what you were waiting for.

Choso was always so kind, letting you enter his house for food or games whenever you did something for him. That's his way of payment, since you knew he had issues with money and couldn't afford to pay you whenever you helped him change his lights, shelves or doors (he never asked for your help, however you somehow casually just happened to pass by whenever he was struggling with something like that). You always reassured him that it was fine, but he still insisted on having you over for dinner or lunch.

You smiled.

—Yeah, that would be nice.

He let you in, and you sat on his sofá while he brought something for you to drink. Minutes later he came, sat down next to you and gave you a cup of tea.

—Not as refreshing as the lemonade, but I promise it's good.

He handed it to you and you thanked him as a result. You gave it a sip and a surprised expression appeared on your face. He noticed that and asked:

—Is something wrong with the tea?

You instantly shook your head, resting the cup on your lap.

—Nothing at all! It's just, this is my favorite tea.

—It is? It's my favorite tea too.

He laughed at your reaction, as you smiled sweetly at him. To him, you were a cute girl he had for a neighbour that he could rely on when he needed help with his home or ask for help when it came to baking something for his little brother whenever he would visit and also a great companion he liked to have around since you were sweet and fun, but that's just his impression of you. He didn't know you were as awful as he was when it came to baking but mastered it just for him, he didn't know you found boring changing lightbulbs and only found fun the time spent with him and neither was he aware of the fact that you weren't giggling because you thought he was funny, but because you were so excited about having another thing in common with him.

The evening went great, you both laughed and updated eachother with gossip from your neighbourhood. You were making progress day by day, and you could feel It by the way he seemed more and more casual as the visits kept happening. He was growing more comfortable with you, and you were loving it! Choso talked to you about his brother Yuji, about how life working as an artist was and even showed you some photos —which you already saw, but now that he was the one showing them to you they looked even prettier—, he also asked about how to make Apple pies and more.

But that's not one of the main of reasons you came here for.

—Hey, Choso?

He hummed, taking a sip of his lemonade.

—Could I use the bathroom?

He looked at you, then pointed at the hall.

—The last door, the one on the right wall.

You already knew that, but thanked him anyways and went on your way there. You counted the Doors: one, two..then the third one. That's the one you're looking for.

Not because it was the bathroom, no.

Because it was his bedroom.

You entered the room, checking every corner you never saw through the window. He had a small computer on the desk, a few clothes on the floor, school items scattered all over the sheets of the bed such as a few pencils, notes, papers and more to be seen. Looking at the walls, you found several posters and pictures he made along with photos of him and his family: most of them were with yuji, his little brother, at places like a lake, his first day of kindergarten, at a sleepover...you found yourself smiling because of that, he was just so perfect. You had to capture this place, the place that held the most of his personality out of this home. Just a picture, only to visualize what kind of things he likes or what kind of furniture he's more fond of. You just needed a picture, something to have as a reference to analyze him, and it was as simple as clicking a single button of the mini polaroid you carried in your purse. However, as your hand reached for your purse to grab it...

—I think you're at the wrong bathroom, aren't you?

You froze.

Right behind you was Choso, the owner of the voice, leaning on the frame of the door while looking at you waiting for an answer. You weren't even facing him and you could already feel the grin on his face while he talked to you. Did he find out? Did he know the reason you entered his room? A lot of questions ran through your mind in a span of seconds. You tried to keep calm telling yourself things such as "no, how could he ever know? He wouldn't have let me in if he did" or "it's imposible for him to know I had a camera, since I didn't even get to grab it" and eventually, you had the courage to turn around to make visual contact with him and make up a lie.

—I'm sorry, got distracted in the way.

He kept quiet, letting you continue talking since he was not satisfied with your answer. You turn your gaze to the walls of the room, finding a lot of artpieces he made. You looked at him again, pointing at them with your eyes to let him know what you were going to refer to.

—I just wanted to see them up close. You showed me through photos, but i never thought they would be so...detailed. It's truly beautiful.

He seemed to be taken back by your answer.

—You think so?

—I really do. You're a great artist, Choso.

The black haired male looked like he bought your excuse. He looked actually touched by your lie and you obviously knew why; that's why you chose to lie with it in the first place. Choso was never validated as an artist, being always told that he could do so much better if he studied something like economy or science. Nobody really complimented his art withouth mentioning how it, as good as it is, should be kept as a hobby instead of dedicating his whole life to it because it just wouldn't really make a lot of money. He knew that, but still chose that life ignoring people's words. However, sometimes it was imposible to ignore it and he somehow became insecure when people gave his art compliments, since he didn't really know if they meant them or if they think the same as the rest.

And that's exactly what you knew that he was thinking right now.

—You're not going to say anything else?

He expected you to throw your advice now. He was expecting you to say something among the lines of "it's beautiful, but I personally wouldn't dedicate my whole career to it", waiting for something hurtful like it always happens. He waited and waited, and you finally talked.

—Yeah, I do.

He mentally sighed. Oh, he was a fool for believing that you could be different just because you were his friend. Choso ran a hand through his hair, messing up his bangs a little.

However, you proved him wrong.

—Since you draw so good, could you teach me one day? I really need it for this project at school, so i thought that maybe you...

You kept talking, but he stopped hearing whatever you were saying. Choso's expression suddenly stiffened, he gulped and his jaw tensed as you kept going on something he lost a few seconds ago. His eyes lit up with a complete different light, and he took a few steps towards you.

Noticing his silence and the way he walked to you, you grew worried. You did know that this was a sensible topic for him and already planned how his reaction would be, but this was not what you expected as he looked so intimidating while he slowly made his way towards you.

—I'm sorry, did I talk too much? Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, you don't have to actually say yes.

He grabbed you by the shoulders with such force you did not expect from him. Fuck, you messed up didn't you?

By the way he was looking at you, yes the hell you did.

That's the least you ever wanted, honestly. Choso hating you for touching some personal topic was the worst thing that could happen to you. You just complimented him, so why? He was frowing, his muscles tense, his body language indicated that he was nervous and his expression showed he was deep in thought. You wondered how did you even manage to get him like that, to get him to shift his personality like that. One minute he was touched by your words, now he was looking at you like you were something new to his eyes.

And you were, he just wasn't showing it how he should've.

Why? Because he never received this type of trait from someone. Something as simple as that, he never experienced it even though he craved for it for so long.

—What are you doing?

He asks you, his tone demanding for an answer.

—What?

You answer, and there's seconds of plain silence until he talks again.

—To me.

That tone.

That soft tone and cracked voice as he whispered with such tenderness, urging you for an answer desperately.

Now you understood, looking up at him and figuring out his expression. His grip on you was not because he was angry, but because he didn't want you to run away from his question. His frown was not because he was angry at you, but because he was trying to figure himself out. His shaky hands and body language was not screaming at you to stop talking, but to keep doing so.

You finally broke him down.

It took you months worth of visits, weeks and weeks of effort to make this man finally see in you what you see in him. You relaxed.

—You finally see it, don't you?

Your hand traced his jawline softly, watching him close his eyes as he leans into your touch like a puppy. This was all you ever wished, to have him like this. If you knew it only took a few compliments, some deep talks about life the nights after you help him fix his garden and making him some food from time to time to make him finally look at you like this, you would have done it sooner. But once again patience is key, so you don't complain now that he opens his eyes and adverts his gaze towards you in such a delicate way.

—I do.

You grin.

—That's good.. that's good. How about you and I, having dinner at a restaurant tonight? Let's get to know eachother.

He hesitates at first but then nods, according to your words.

—Sounds like a good plan.

You already know everything about him, but the idea of having a date seemed so casual and so cute you couldn't help but cheer internally. How would it be? Would he dress and look handsome for tonight? Would you two share your first kiss then? Would he lend you his jacked if it's cold? God, you were so excited! He was just the perfect man, choso had everything you ever wanted and that's all that mattered. It's okay if it rains, choso will cover you from the water. Doesn't matter if your heels tire you, choso will carry you home. It's also okay if you don't like the food at the restaurant, choso will surely share his with you. He actually will, because you know everything about him when it comes to a relationship too. It only took creating a fake account and pretending to be some random girl to ask his exes how he was in a relationship. You had to be informed of what you would be getting into, of course!

They all agreed that the man in front of you was a true romantic, detail-oriented and above all very observant of his partner. Aside from that, the complaints that caused them to break up were each one different from the other. However, when it came to complaints or the reason they broke up, each was different so you didn't have anything to base yourself on.

But oh, you were rushing things again weren't you? You two didn't even have a first date, and you were already thinking about how you would be as a couple! You'll see when the time comes.

—Then, I'll leave and you come pick me up at 9. I'll look pretty for you, so look handsome for me.

He looked at you with certain surprise.

—You'll leave?

—Well, yes. You don't want me to look like this at the date, no?

You signaled to yourself, making him look at your simple dress and face with a casual makeup. You wished to look pretty and have an elaborated makeup to your date, and he seemed to catch up. Choso shook his head.

—That's what I thought. I'll see you at nine, then?

—Yeah.

Yet, his grip on your shoulders didn't cease. You gave him a few seconds to let you go, but he didn't.

—Choso?

He looked to the side, and a slight blush could be seen on his cheeks.

—I'm sorry, you don't have to do it if you're uncomfortable but..can I at least get a goodbye?

Oh, oh.

You were speechless for a second, did he just ask for you to kiss him that politely? Then you chuckled, making him look at you with an embarrassed expression. His grip on you disappeared, and he covered half of his face with his hand for you not to see the shame in his face.

—Nevermind, i'm taking things too far. I'll see you at nine.

He didn't even have the chance to run away from the situation when you grabbed the collar of his sweater and gently pulled on it to get him closer, giving him a little peck on the lips. Choso was the one to quickly pull away in surprise, but soon he realized what just happened and leaned back again for another one since he wasn't satisfied with that little taste. He grabbed cupped your cheek with one hand while his lips collided with yours in a way that you weren't even upset your first kiss isn't at the date. The feeling was almost as if they were giving you something that you have been longing for for a long time, something that you have only had the pleasure of imagining becomes a reality.

Then you pulled away, in need of air.

—That's enough for a goodbye, isn't it?

He looked at you in silence, panting as he catched his breath. Soon after, his lips were on yours again with more intensity than before, dancing a tango of emotions where the music increased with each gasp of air. Eventually his hand found the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, and his tongue explored your mouth with a lot of ease. He seemed to have a lot of experience, while you were left trying to catch up on his rythm.

—Not enough. Five more minutes and you go, please.

He pleaded when you separated before kissing you again. You didn't even have time to say yes, but the way you reciprocated the kiss told him more than enough. Soon enough his other hand found your waist and guided you out of the room, through the hall. His bedroom had this huge window —which you were really thankful for, by the way. It always gave you such a good view of him when you were looking at him through your window—, and he didn't want anyone looking at you two since it was an easy thing to do, so he guided you through the hall to another room between heated kisses with your fingers tangled in his hair. You ended up with your back against the wall while Choso took some keys out of his pocket, opening the door while leaving a trail of light kisses on your neck.

It wasn't strange for him to have a key to a room, since it was a normal thing for people in your neighbourhood to do so since burglasses were quite common so they kept valuable things safe in a room. You guessed he was taking you there since it was a more private area, but you found yourself with a room. Not enough time was left for you when you were thrown on a bed, having choso on top of you while pinning one of your wrists above you. You looked at him, who stared back at you intensely.

—Choso, five minutes already passed..

The man looked at you for a few seconds more, like he was admiring you. He looked absolutely breathtaking, His hair was messy, his eyes half open, his breathing altered, and his lips stained with the lipstick you were wearing. You dreamed so many times of this moment, yet you also wished for the date to happen so you couldn't entertain this more.

—I'm sorry, I just can't help It.

He kisses you once again. A soft tender kiss is left in your lips.

—Now that I have you, i can't let you go.

Once again. This kiss seemed to have more emotion than the rest, and it felt like he was devouring you.

—I can't let you go.

And again. Now, the kiss feels desperate and feral, he was kissing you again and again as if he was an animal.

—I can't. You can't go.

You were getting worried about what he was saying, but when you tried to get your wrist out of his hand a metalic sound was heard. You pulled.

CLANK.

You tried to pull again.

CLANK.

—Choso?

You asked, confused.

His hands left your wrist, and then you saw.

You were chained up to the bed.

He got up from the bed, and you tried to do too. However, you failed and almost fell off the bed due to the force of the pull that the metal gave you in reaction to your quick attempt of getting on your feet. He stopped you from falling, sitting you on the bed once again.

—Shh.. it's okay, don't freak out.

—What do you mean don't freak out? Is this some time of kinky roleplay?!

You tried to pull on the chain with your free hand, but it was no use. He scratched the back of his neck nervous, making a face of disappointment.

—Yeah, I figured you wouldn't like this place at first but don't worry, you'll like it eventually. It's pretty, isn't it? Look.

He grabbed your face and forced you to look around, and you found the least thing you could ever expect from this man. How could you not notice this when you entered? There were pictures of you all over the walls, a map of the city and different dots connected on a cardboard. A lot of your pictures were also on a desk, alongside with little hearts drawn of them. There was a part of one of the walls that was completely covered in drawings of your face in different angles, of your body and you doing some of your hobbies. Anyone that looked at it would easily think you were his muse. A computer was opened on the desk that had different recordings of the outsides of your house, and you were sure all of those pendrives scattered near were just about the same thing.

—It looks creepy now, but I'll eventually clean it. You know, you weren't supposed to come here today..—He, still grabbing your face, made you look at him by raising your chin with the intention that you maintain eye contact with him.—I was still making cute furniture for you to enjoy this place..but then i saw it. I saw what you tried to do.

His free hand reached his pocket, taking out your mini polaroid that was supposed to be in your purse. When did he take it? Fuck, it probably was while you two were kissing.

—I saw that you, deep inside, were just as sick as I am. And i couldn't resist it.

Your jaw tensed, but you still talked.

—Why?

He grinned, and his voice came out in a whisper.

—Because i have been waiting for so, so long.

He smiled at your innocence. Did you really think you were being sly with that dirty, little secret of yours? No, Choso had his eye on you for longer than you did. He saw you at work once, then he grew obsessed with you even if you never noticed him. Seeing you at work was not enough, so he eventually bought a House next to yours as if fate wanted him to get closer to you, and noted how to catch your attention. He changed his whole personality into some shy, cute and fun but still serious with black cat aesthetic boy just because he knew it was your type, and even went as far as creating profiles on social media acting like his exs whenever you, with another account he managed to find, asked about how he was in a relationship. That account was simply "asking for a friend", but he knew better than that. He lied to you, telling you just what you wanted to hear about a perfect boy in a relationship and stupid reasons of the breakup each different from another so you wouldn't think he had any specific red flag.

God, you were so adorable that he could lock you up forever.

Except for the fact that he already was.

—No, you're another whole level of sick. You were so normal, we had a lot of things in common..

—But we do! Y/N, look at me.—he brushed a strand of hair off your face, smiling softly.—We have things in common. We're both so in love with eachother, it's okay..

—No, Choso. You were meant for me..

His smile faded.

—I still am.

—No you're not. You were fake.

You were conflicted. You were sick in the head, but he was just another whole level. While you were happy with having him by your side, keeping photos of him and observing the man, he was locking you in. You had absolutely no right to complain, because you were just a little bit less bad than he was even though you were still guilty.

You tried to fool him, and you ended up being fooled.

—You're in denial, Y/N. Everything I am now I will forever be if you like it, I built myself just for you!

He was growing more demanding by minute, his grip on your face increased and you couldn't open your mouth to reply.

—You liked cats, I like cats too. You like some bands? well guess what, i like them too! You like that damn tea?! I like it too even though it tastes like shit!

He kept screaming, trying to reason with you.

You bit your lip and slipped out of his grasp. He seemed upset at that, but eventually decided to let you be.

You were still too in shock to understand what he did for you, weren't you?

—Fine, do whatever you want..—He moved away from you, leaving you there still chained to the bed. —It's not like you'll be going anywhere soon.

He scoffed, and you felt such a rush of emotions going on at the same time. Every feeling that you may have accumulated towards him during all these months disappeared from your heart as if they were pieces of a puzzle. Each moment you grew excited because you were just about to visit him, each photo you took of him and hung on the wall while you daydreamed of the day you could take one together with him, each moment you replayed in your head every conversation with him again and again before going to sleep...it all vanished. The love you felt slowly turned into a darker feeling that extinguished it until it turned into a kind of repulsion, disgust. You knew that the day will come when you your karma will come for you for having gotten into such dangerous terrain, but you didn't expect it to be this way.

Specially for it to be this man.

The man you idealized so much, the man you thought to be so perfect.

The man you claimed to have so many things in common with.

Well, now you knew for sure.

You did have a lot in common with Choso Kamo.

Author's note: not my favorite fanfic, honestly. It's not edited since it's 2am and i don't wanna re-read, so tell me if you find any mistakes! By the way, new chapter of "dogs and Cats café" will be out next week when i'm finally done with my final exams.

Hope you liked this, I'll be reading your comments 💕

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[sysig]

Pretty clothes for you! ✨ (Patreon)

#My art #Solanaceae #Satine #Ahh!!! Even with this one being done I'm still so nervous about it somehow!! Haha ♪ #It's been so so soooo long since I've participated in an Event that I've forgotten everything I've ever learned or done in one haha #But yes! This is an event piece! DCS put out an art call and I wanted to join and I'm very glad I did! :D #I would consider myself a very casual fan of Solanaceae like it's been way too long since I've reread in earnest but I like to stop by #Lovely art and characters and interesting movement and feelings and problems everyone runs into it's quite cool :D #Satine is probably my favourite of the bunch even if it has been too long since I've properly caught up with everyone!! #I remember always feelings very positive and like - mixed-love? They're complex in a way that I really like #Ahh all the more reason to catch up again! So I can properly express how I feel about Satine /now/ not just partially remembered haha #I'm also just generally a fan of DCS' art style and passion and ah <3 #I don't think I've mentioned it anywhere but DCS was one of my Very Big - maybe even Main inspirations to make VargasLovingHours #And then I also get to draw their pretty lad in Satine! Yes!! #I have a lot to feel thankful for inspiration-wise haha ♥ #This was a fun outfit to design :D I really wanted Satine to feel pretty 'cause they are! #A kind of cool pink and scalloping I will always choose scalloping if there is an option for scalloping to be chosen #And I got to bring back a bit of the rainbow-opal look I used for Winter King a bit back as well! :D #And mirrors and sparklies and just - yes! Many good and fun things!! #I do think it's a bit funny since those were supposed to be thought bubbles but then I just - forgot to make the little bubble tails lol #Remembered them on the flowers! But not the thought bubbles! Haha oh well ♪ #Does not diminish the cutes or the pretties ♫

[murdrdocs]

spinnin' out waiting

description. you find TASHI DONALDSON at a hotel bar. you fall back into a version of your old self, a version that values tashi's opinion as much as you value the taste of her lips.

includes. SMUT 18+ MDNI, infidelity, 69ing, exes (again!), crazy amounts of longing, one mention of pegging, couple mentions of patrick and art, unnamed husband to r

wc. 4.2k+

a/n: art creds unknown. title from satellite by harry styles. barely edited as of 06/10

“Why'd you marry him?”

Tashi's words are soft, they’re inquisitive. They don’t seem accusatory, blending easily with the melody of the Bowie tune playing throughout the hotel lobby.

You hear her. You understand her over the clatter of glasses against table tops and shoes clicking against tile floors. You know exactly what she’s asking you. You have an answer, but beginning to act on the defense, you take your time formulating another one.

Here, at a hotel bar, you won't tell Tashi the real reason why you married your husband. You won't lay it all out for her to take, chew up, and spit right back at you.

You take a sip of your drink, ignoring how unfavored it is now that it's watered down, and you only speak once it's sitting back on the counter.

“Why did you?”

It's lame, nothing but a cop-out, but verbally, you aren't trying to impress Tashi right now. Right now, you're taking what you can, pathetically just trying to exist in her space for longer even if it means deflecting her words onto her. 

Physically, you’re trying to draw her in, attempting to impress her. It’s obvious in the way you’re sitting—shoulders pushed far back until there’s a pinch between your shoulder blades, your legs crossed at the ankles and your thighs squeezed together. You’re the picture of perfection, even holding your face in a way that you think Tashi will admire. 

Tashi takes the bait.

She shrugs, sighs, and dives into a calculated answer. “He's smart. Good at tennis.”

You think she means the words, or she had meant them at one time, but now they’re emotionless. They’re facts, not declarations of love. Her face doesn’t brighten like it should when talking about why you married your husband. 

You nod your head, rocking a little in your seat on the stool. Tashi has always been strategic, you aren't shocked that she doesn't mention her love for her husband in her admission.

She looks at you, eyes briefly taking down your body in a gesture so quick that you aren’t sure if it was intentional or not. You watch her lips part. 

“You were too.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “I was what?”

“Good at tennis.” Again, she says it so simply, so clear cut. To most, it would be. To most, it would be nothing but a fact, a compliment, even. 

With Tashi, it's something different. There is an admission in itself woven in her words. One you’ve waited to hear for years, one you only heard once before years ago. If you were weaker, still playing for her attention, maybe, then you would’ve let the admission draw you back to your coach who declared there would always be a place for you. Now, you only dip your head, watching your fingernail tap against your glass. 

“I'm out, Tashi. I'm done.”

The back and forth comes quickly. “You didn't have to be. You quit.”

“I retired.”

“You quit.”

You didn't expect the conversation to go this way, but you should have. You know Tashi. You may even know her better than you know your own husband. Perhaps she knows you better than your husband does. It's a thought you don't want to consider for longer than you need to.

You take your glass in your hand and finish your drink off. You don't bother ordering another. You won't be here for much longer. 

You don't know how the exit will be, if you'll be alone, or if Tashi will be in tow. But you can sense its approach.

“Why did you marry him?" She asks you again.

This time, you give an answer. It comes quick and simple. "Safety." What you don’t say is because I couldn’t marry you. 

You watch Tashi react. The corner of her lips lifts just a bit and she gets that look in her eye. The one that tells you that she has just found something out, a piece to add to the puzzle that makes up you.

She hums and you know she wants to say something. You want to hear it, but the words are likely to piss you off. They would ruin the small sense of harmony that exists in this space, and that's something you don't want.

So you let Tashi judge you. You sit there under her scrutinizing gaze and then when she's done, you watch her gaze soften.

“You had a few more in you."

It's tennis talk, but it's comforting.

“I watched your matches, you could've done a few more. A couple more years maybe. Wimbledon was always your strong suit I think you could've won it next year. Maybe Australia, too. France is a little rough on you, you move slower. But if yo—” You can't stand to hear it any longer.

You push your chair out from under you, standing over her. And for once, Tashi stops speaking. She's stunned, her dark eyes staring up at yours. Her lips stay parted, her unfinished words sitting stunted inside of her mouth. Her lips look so nice, and you try not to focus on that, but it seems like it's all you can focus on through the blurry sight. 

Your eyes burn, your nose stings. You're about to cry, and for what? Because Tashi is telling you that you're better than you thought? Truthfully, it's words you've been hearing for a while. Everyone has told you as such. But hearing it from her is different. It's like the words from God himself.

It should be embarrassing, how joyous you feel to have her attention on you once more. How delighted you are that Tashi Duncan—Tashi Donaldson is finally giving you the time of day again. It should be embarrassing, and maybe it would be if you weren’t so intently focused on keeping your tears at bay.

Nearly a decade and a half later, you’re still worshiping at her altar.

Patrick all those years ago was right. You’re no better than Art. You don’t think you wanted to be.

You stand with intentions to leave. Grab your bag, you tell yourself. Go upstairs to your room and to your husband.

But Tashi is looking at you. She's looking at you with kindness beneath her lined eyes. On the surface, it's unnoticeable. Maybe it's not there at all and you're just deluding yourself. But you think that under there, buried down beneath everything she uses to keep herself strong and above everyone else, is kindness. Towards you. Towards the situation. Towards herself.

“St back down,” she tells you.

You stay standing.

Tashi's hand reaches for yours. Her left hand crosses her body, resting on your left hand. You glance down, noticing the way your respective rings glint in the moody lighting. When you blink, a tear falls. You try to wipe it away before Tashi can notice it.

"Sit back down," She speaks slowly this time and it seems like a plea. So you sit back down.

Your pants are touching the cushion of the bar stool for only a few seconds before Tashi leans forward. There isn't necessarily hesitance towards her movements, but she moves slowly. It's as if she's giving you an out.

But there's no way you could want an out for the thing you've wanted for years. Finally, she's giving you an in, even if the circumstances existing outside of this bubble make the situation inappropriate.

But when you close the gap, you don't feel guilty. Because you had her first. Before any of the boys came into your lives, it was you and Tashi. 

And here, and now, it’s you and Tashi. Art, Patrick, and your husband don’t exist at this moment past the rings on your fingers and lingering chastising. Physically, in this space, it’s you and Tashi.

Her hand falls to your thigh. Your hand slides up to the side of her neck. 

She scoots her stool closer to yours and your back arches as you push yourself closer into her. A blast of AC brings her perfume to your awareness. She smells the same as before, a gentle vanilla, but there’s a new maturity to it. The scent is stronger, without being overpowering. It’s aged, with a deeper heat to it. 

It’s alluring.

When you pull away from her, you’re shocked to feel her lips chase yours. She kisses you, once, twice, and then she’s only stopped by your hands cupping her cheeks. 

You stare at Tashi. She stares at you, big brown eyes lined with smudged makeup. She should look intimidating, like how she appears in the stands. But she looks innocent, almost. 

“Tashi.” 

Her eyebrows furrow. It’s nice to see worry on her face when it’s directed at you. You like it when she cares about you. 

“What? What is it?” 

“Tashi, we shouldn’t.” 

Her eyebrows relax and her face morphs into something else. Disappointment? It’s a look that makes your throat sting. 

You’re close to taking your warning back, but you instead let it suspend in the air. You lick your lips, your grip on Tashi’s cheeks relaxing as you prepare to retreat. Your purse sits on the counter, and in it is your keycard to your hotel room. It would be easy to grab your things and slip back into your room for a quick shower before sliding into bed. But that’s not what you want. 

You want to see where this goes. 

If she’ll let you. 

You expect Tashi’s body to relax away from you, but it doesn’t. 

She stands, her hands resting on your thighs as she stares down at you. 

“Why shouldn’t we?” 

You have answers, many of them. Two of them sit just a few floors above you both, waiting for either of you to crawl back into bed and resume the role of the loving, supportive wife. 

You could give her reasons, but you don’t. Instead, you lamely stare up at Tashi, your best friend. 

It’s a title she hasn’t been the owner of for years, but you still find it easy to give it to her now. You’ll extend it for her to forever hold, an honor she doesn’t have to want for you to bestow upon her. 

You’ll let Tashi Donaldson be whatever she wants to be, so long as she’s in your life. 

Maybe that’s why you don’t resist at all when she leans down and presses her lips to yours. 

You kiss her with vigor you’ve never kissed your husband with. Vigor that could have never existed with him, because you’ve been burying it deep down inside just for her. It’s a build-up of all the times you cheered her on for a date. All the times you listened to her tell you about her endeavors and pushed down the images of you two in the described positions. The tears you hid with steamy showers and bottles of wine when you heard about her wedding from the tabloids and not an invitation. 

It all comes together as slides of your lips against hers. Full-forced presses of your tongues together. Wandering hands roaming through expensive hairdos and along even more expensive clothing items. 

You’re in public, sitting at a hotel bar, but you couldn’t care less. Even if it weren’t late at night, if the lobby were bustling with late check-outs and early check-ins, you don’t think you would care. Absolutely nothing could pull you from Tashi’s embrace. You convince yourself this when you stand to your full height, pressing your chest against Tashi’s. 

She turns you until your lower back digs into the edge of the counter. One of her hands cups your face and you can feel the bracelet on her wrist dig into your arm as she rests the other on the counter behind you. You hold her close with two hands on her slender waist, pressing into the thick fabric of her cardigan. 

You need to feel more of her. Her clothing is in the way. You need to feel her skin on yours in ways you had almost been privy to in college when tailored pants and overpriced sweaters were replaced by Victoria’s Secret pajama sets and Stanford sweatshirts. 

You do what you can in this public space, lifting the hem of her cardigan and pressing your hands into her torso beneath it. She’s wearing a shirt, but it’s cropped just enough for you to feel her taut abdomen. She’s soft, just like you expected her to be. 

You melt against her when you circle your hands around her back and feel even more of her skin. 

Eventually, Tashi pulls away. She doesn’t go far, pecking your neck and clavicle even as she struggles to catch her breath. You’re about to ask her where. You can’t let Tashi fuck you in a hotel bar, even if you would’ve let it happen if it weren’t so morally wrong, and you’re about to ask her where she could fuck you. 

The words are formed on your tongue, sitting right on the tip, waiting. And then the elevator dings. You don’t care immediately. You forget yourself. You forget that you’re in public, pressed against a hotel bar with onlookers just a few feet away. They might not be looking at you, but you’ve had an audience this entire time. You could have another member joining the audience, too, if that elevator ding is who you think it is. 

You forgot that you’re married, and not to her. 

But the sound of the elevator, followed by an excited squeal of his name and then your name, the one he gave you, quickly reminds you. 

You pull yourself off of Tashi completely. The only way to do that is to shove her away from you and even though you try to do it as gently as possible, it still hurts both of you. But it does the job. Tashi stands in front of you instead of against you. 

You try your best to collect yourself. Wiping over and around your mouth, fixing your top, righting the position of your ring on your finger, and doing the same for your necklaces. You clear your throat, awkwardly step around Tashi, and then you look at her. 

You look at her, really look at her in case you won’t get the chance to again, and then you turn yourselves around, grab your purse, and just look at her. 

You wait for him to come this way. You wait for the sound of his shoes against the laminate, the strong waft of his cologne, the deep rumble of his voice. You wait for him to pull you into his chest, press a kiss into your forehead, and sincerely tell you that he was looking for you. That he woke up to an empty bed and was worried sick. You wait for the guilt to settle in your gut like a rock. You wait for this energy to be disrupted for good.

When it doesn’t come, you don’t know what to do. 

Tashi cocks her head, crosses her arms over her chest. 

You can sense her wanting to ask you a question so you press your shoulders back and prepare yourself. 

“Are you gonna go with him?” 

You don’t answer. You lick your lips, flit through the array of bottles against the wall behind her, and listen for the sound of fans talking to your husband. 

Tashi only continues. “He’ll only be distracted for so long before he comes looking for you, right? So, are you gonna go with him, or are you coming with me?” 

You try to sit and consider it, juggling the thoughts in your head, but it’s nothing but a waste of time. Your decision has been made ever since she kissed you. It’s what you really want. But it’s what you cannot have. 

So instead, you grab your purse, spare Tashi one final look, and walk away from her. 

“What happened downstairs?”

You’re in the middle of brushing your teeth when he asks you. The action gives you time to consider. Consider the implications of his question. Consider the repercussions of the answer you’ll give him. 

You’re done when you spit the first time, but you go back for another round of brushing to give yourself more time. 

Your actions don’t deter your husband. He stands in the center of the entrance to the bathroom, blocking the exit with his hands in the pockets of his pants. You’d bought them for him for Christmas two years ago. 

Eventually realizing you’re not escaping this, you spit, rinse, and wipe before turning to face your husband. 

“Nothing happened.” 

It’s true to you. You were in Tashi’s embrace last night, but nothing happened. 

You look at your husband, watching him take your answer in. You’re preparing for further questioning, to be put under the white-hot light and spew out lie after lie in order to save your ass and your marriage. You don’t expect him to accept it so quickly. 

“Okay.”

You can’t help but ask him, “Okay?” 

He nods. “I’ll always believe you, you know that. Now come to bed before I start watching Scandal without you.” 

You try to stay put in your room tonight. It’s empty, left alone while your husband attends an event you should’ve been at. But you were sick, riddled with sudden guilt that fostered in your body, creating stomach cramps, headaches, and heat flashes. 

You needed to do something about it. 

You tried to drink it away with warm tea. You tried to wash it away with a hot shower. You try to relax it away in the best ways you know how—room service and an old match of your husbands. But nothing you did helped. You still found yourself in an empty bed, tossing and turning and craving a companion that you shouldn’t crave. 

You know the solution. She sits downstairs. You know she does. You don’t need visual confirmation.

But you get it anyway. Sitting in the same spot as yesterday, in the same cardigan as before. Her hair is pulled away from her face in a clip, but it’s still too short to stay pulled all the way back. Highlights frame her face, and short pieces of hair sit against the nape of her neck. Her head is down, staring straight at the bar where she has her hotel keycard in her hand, tapping the plastic edge against the marble. 

She doesn’t have a drink. You figure she won’t stay for long. 

When you approach her, she doesn’t look up. You don’t bother sitting. 

“Come with me.” 

When you say it, she doesn’t immediately respond. She doesn’t even acknowledge you until at least a minute later, but it could have easily been longer. She looks up at you and she looks like Tashi Duncan. With her hair framing her face messily, her eyes completely free of makeup and soft, she looks like your best friend. She also looks like she’s been crying, or maybe holding it off. 

You want to ask her if she’s okay, but you know what her answer will be, so you save yourself time. 

“Are you gonna leave me again?”

Her response punches you in the gut. It also riles you up. 

You scoff and consider turning back around. You stand your ground long enough to say, “I guess we’re even then, right?”

Tashi doesn’t need further explanation. She backs down, you can see it happening physically. Her shoulders relax and her lips quirk down for a split second. It’s long enough for you to notice it happening, but then it’s gone. She’s stoic, neutral. It’s a practiced look. One she’s perfected by now. 

“Are you coming?” 

She takes a moment, she takes a breath, and then she stands. 

You’re in your hotel room for long enough to hear the door click behind you, signaling that it’s locked, and then Tashi’s lips are on yours. 

It’s unclear who moves first. Maybe you move in tandem, finally satisfied to be with each other in seclusion for the first time in years. 

All that matters is that you’re leading Tashi towards the bedroom and your fallen clothing marks the trail. From the door to the bed lay her cardigan, tee shirt, pants, one of her shoes, your hoodie, your leggings, and both of your shoes.

You fall onto the bed and Tashi quickly follows you. She straddles you, long body curled up to hover over your form, reminiscent of a vulture. 

She kisses you in the same manner as before, but there’s more haste to her lips this time. 

She kisses you like she’s insatiable, taking more and more without taking a moment to see if what she already has is enough. You have a feeling that whatever she takes from you, whatever you give her, will never be enough. 

It’s the same for you. 

Finally getting to hear the sounds Tashi makes whenever you slip your hand between her thighs makes your head spin. It’s an addicting feeling similar to substances that produce the same effect, but this is much better. This is a version you’ll risk it all to have. The moans and gasps that Tashi releases when you press into her clit over the thin fabric of her panties are debilitating. It bruises you, only to build you right back up again. 

You need more. 

So you produce more. 

You slip your hand beneath the waistband and let your fingertips meet Tashi’s bare cunt for the first time. She shudders, so sensitive, and she’s so fucking wet. The first touch flatters you. It comforts you to confirm that you’re having the same effect on her that she’s always had on you. 

Even during times when you hadn’t seen her. During times when you relied on memory, getting yourself off in the shower. Or times when you caught a glimpse of her at a match that your husband was playing in, and you thought of her that night when your husband fucked you in honor of his win. Then, you’d been soaked beyond belief. Much like Tashi is now. 

You don’t waste any more time, giving the suggestion to Tashi with a grin. Of course, she’s quick to accept. 

You ask her if she’s been in this position since that time. She tells you she hasn’t, and she asks you the same. You say you haven’t, but you’ve been dreaming of it. 

You end up face-to-face with Tashi’s cunt, and she is in the same position with yours. Both of you make quick work of the other, no longer in the mood for playing with your food, especially now since it’s sitting right in front of you.

You assume it’s been a while since Tashi’s been with a woman, but she hasn’t lost any of her skill at all. She devours you with enthusiasm, working her mouth in ways that have you momentarily distracted from your own task. 

Until your competitive side kicks in. You refuse to let Tashi win, beginning to engage in a silent, but obvious, competition with her. 

She quickly starts to become more verbal, even her moans sounding breathless. It’s an ego boost. 

“Wish I … Wish I had the—” she breaks her words off to whine and it’s such a heavenly sound. “Wish I had the strap up here.” 

You lay your head back away from her cunt to speak. 

“You have it with you?” There’s humor to your words, and you break off into a laugh when Tashi responds. 

“Art likes it.”

Tashi giggles with you, and as soon as the fit dies down, she lowers her head, you pull her hips closer to you, and you both get back to it. 

The first time is over quicker than either of you anticipated. Tashi cums first, her back arching and her tongue stopping against your cunt. You, on the other hand, kept going. You licked and sucked and teased until Tashi was tapping against your thigh and begging that you stop. Then she continued, and it took barely anything to get you in the same position as her. 

You both finished, but you weren’t done. It was hard to stay off of each other, and even when you did stop, you would take a break and find each other again. You hadn’t fucked that much since your honeymoon. In a way, you felt like you were on your honeymoon. 

The clothes in the closet and the toiletries in the bathroom didn’t belong to Tashi, but you could pretend that they did. The ring on your finger wasn’t Tashi’s, but you pretended it was. You weren’t Tashi’s, but you pretended you were. 

Up until your husband calls you. 

The grogginess in your voice was real and he winced as he thought he woke you. He kept it brief, a quick warning that he was heading home and stopping by a place for food on the way. He sent you the menu, urging you to reply if you wanted something. And then he blew a kiss over the line and told you he loved you. 

You repeated his actions without any hesitation. 

When Tashi inevitably had to leave your hotel room, you kissed her cheek and told her you loved her without any hesitation. 

#tashisworld! #tashi duncan x reader #tashi duncan x you #celeste writes challengers

[kaeyx]

Can't stop thinking about Chuuya in leather pants (I want to draw it saur bad). Just the way they hug his legs and ass!!!! And when he's hard the shine of the leather perfectly outlines his thick, pretty cock...

You can't help but drool after him when he wears them (so of course expect him to wear them even more). You beg to sit on the floor between his legs not even undoing the front laces yet, just nuzzling at his growing bulge smearing the material with your drool.

When he finally let's you open them up, the musk is so intense and hot from the leather trapping heat all day. It's a 50/50 if chuuya decided to wear a sheer black thong that cups his cock so beautifully or just went commando- either way avoiding unsightly underwear lines.

And after all that teasing, of course he's going to make you deep throat his cock.

-⚡️

CREAMING MYSELF HOLY SHITTTTT (under a cut because it got waaaaay too long oops)

Ugh he's so GORGEOUS, the pants hug his toned ass and tiny waist, they highlight and elongate his legs, they show everything. Especially if he's wearing a little cropped jacket on top so his silhouette isn't hidden at any angle!! Chuuya knows he looks good and he knows you love looking at him, he can feel your eyes following his figure, watching how his body shifts under the tight leather. He's half hard already, his pretty cock chubbing up and beginning to ache as it's squeezed, the leather is unforgiving. But Chuuya knows it just makes him look better, the clear outline of his thick cock showing through his pants alongside everything else they reveal is driving you insane. He can practically see you drooling.

If you don't ask first, he'll drag you to your knees himself. Chuuya makes sure to sit a lot during the day, leaning back and relaxing, spreading his legs as much as the pants allow and letting out a satisfied groan to catch your attention. By the time you're kneeling between his legs he's lost some of his patience though, grabbing the back of your neck and pushing you into his crotch, rubbing his bulge against your face and growling under his breath when you mouth at it and kiss him through the fabric. He's painfully hard now and sees no reason to drag this out, Chuuya needs to feel you properly before he finishes in his pants.

You're as desperate as always of course, doubly so when he peels the fabric away and you see he's not wearing anything (or better yet the thong, soaked through with sweat and precum). The little whine that escapes your throat makes him laugh quietly and ask if you like what you see, but you cut him off by diving straight in and nestling close to his cock, rubbing your cheek against the heated skin of his thigh and kissing the edge of his bush, savouring the smell and salty taste of sweat. Chuuya curses, beginning to shake as you keep pressing closer and kissing his thighs, his stomach, his cock, you even lean down enough to pay attention to his balls before cupping them in your hand. The whole day has been as unbearable for Chuuya as it has been for you, so the moment you plant a gentle kiss on his tip and suck him gently through the lace of his thong he's coming undone, gripping your head tight and throwing his head back with a high, choked off whine. It's a gorgeous sound and of course you want more, you keep touching him through his orgasm as his pretty dick leaks everywhere and his cum begins to drip through the lace of the thong, immediately captured in your willing mouth.

When you shift the fabric just enough to let his cock spring out you whine, it looks so pretty. Flushed all the way to the tip and still painfully hard, straining against Chuuya's tummy and begging for attention, cum still drooling down the side. You can't help but lean in and lick him clean, massaging his balls to get all his cum out, drooling until your whole face is a mess of spit and cum and you're covered in his smell, cockdrunk and moaning shamelessly as Chuuya cums down your throat for the third time, his gloved hand on your head keeping his cock so far down your throat that all you can smell and taste is him. Exactly how you both like it.

#chuuya.bsd #chuuya x reader #chuuya smut #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #⚡️ anon #sorry I went overboard. i heard Chuuya in tight leather pants and lost it #on the topic of Chuuya with leather pants. rockstar Chuuya. specifically him singing Closer

[dira333]

diraaaa mattsun anon here!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️

can i please request something seijoh 4 related for your plot bun game? dealer’s choice. go hog wild. your writing’s gonna be fantastic either way!!

hello mattsun anon! How nice of you to chime in.

This is really hard, because I don't knooooooowwwww....

"Poor Iwa-chan," Oikawa teases, "I bet you'd get a girlfriend too if you tried not looking so scary all the time."

"No no," you disagree, "the girls dig it."

Mattsun snorts. "Which ones? The First-Years just run away all the time when he comes close."

"No, they just run away when they see you," Makki says, kicking your foot with his like he's doing his own version of a low-five.

"Very funny," Iwaizumi drawls, squinting at Oikawa. "And who says I can't get a girlfriend?"

"The fact that you don't have one?"

"At least I'm not just liked for my looks."

"At least I have looks people like me for."

"Guys, guys, you're both pretty," you wave a hand in between them, "but we still need to finish this group project. I'm not letting Tatsumo be first in class this year."

"Just date him," Mattsun drawls out lazily, "isn't he totally in love with you."

You pull a face as Makki snickers. Iwaizumi and Oikawa are still lost in their bickering.

-

"You know I'm a girl, right?" You ask Iwaizumi on the way home, Makki and Mattun walking ahead of you, Oikawa and his girlfriend a few steps behind.

"Yeah, why?" Iwaizumi musters you under furrowed brows.

"Just checking."

-

"There are no more chairs," Kindaichi calls out when you enter, "shall I get some more from the basement?"

"No, that would take too long," Oikawa looks like he's been waiting on all of you for hours when it had just been a few minutes. "You can just sit on the floor."

"No way, I don't want to get a UTI," you scan the room, "anyone letting me sit in their lap?"

"I volunteer Iwaizumi," Mattsun hollers.

"Yeah, strongest thighs in all Seijoh," Makki adds and although the ace blushes slightly, he nods, shoulders squared.

"Sit down," Oikawa orders immediately, "I wanna get started. Why do team meetings always take so damn long?"

"You good?" Iwaizumi asks, his mouth next to your ear.

He sounds completely unaffected. You are going to die.

-

"Would you please become my girlfriend?"

You stare down at the chocolate. Tatsumo went through all the effort of drawing your name on it with colored sugar.

"Sorry, I-" There's a noise that has you look up. Iwaizumi's at the door, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Didn't want to interrupt," he says, turning away. When you reach the door he's already out of sight.

There's no use running after him now, so you turn back, rejection already sitting on your tongue.

-

"So?" Mattsun settles in the seat on your left. "Did you confess to Iwaizumi?"

"What did he say?" Makki asks, leaning in from your right. "He looked constipated today."

"He walked in on Tatsumo confessing to me."

"Oh." Mattsun nods. "Well, maybe now he'll realize you're a girl."

You close your eyes for a moment.

"It doesn't matter," you tell them when you open your eyes again. "I've decided that I'm not staying in Japan anyway."

"You're leaving us?" Mattsun blinks, clearly surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah," you nod, fiddling with your fingers, "I just need... I just need to get away, you know?"

-

Your bags are packed and checked in, your passport sits safely in your purse and you've triple-checked that you're at the right Gate.

Nothing can go wrong now on this adventure, you're sure, even if your heart breaks a little.

But surely, on a different continent, in a different timezone, you'll find yourself. Isn't that how it always works?

Someone gets up from one of the chairs. Behind him, you spot a well-known bag, the color unmistakably Seijoh.

"Iwaizumi? What are you... Are you going to California too?"

#my writing #plotbunny game #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu iwaizumi #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #haikyuu!! #dira.asks #hq x reader #haikyuu drabbles #ask games #hq iwaizumi #iwaizumi fluff

[hannahssimblr]

She seems brighter when she comes back, though we all ignore the blotchiness of her face, like she’s just been crying. Her lashes are a little wet too, making them long and spiky like she’s a girl from a cartoon. She and Liam are smiling into each other's faces now, mumbling vague reassurances, giggling together as though what just occurred was so silly, and hasn’t caused any genuine hurt to either of them. 

When he kisses her on the cheek she flinches slightly as though there is something objectionable or embarrassing about the way that he touches her, and in that moment his insecurity makes sense. 

I think everyone feels bad for her then and wants for her to feel included because they start asking her questions about school which she answers enthusiastically, making sure to look very interested and engaged in what everyone is saying. It occurs to me that she’s a nice person, that she’s making an effort with others and being polite, and perhaps my initial judgement of her formality was unfair. I think I should try harder to be a nice person too, but then I wonder if it’s even in my nature to be that way. I’ve sort of already embraced being a bastard and allowed it to define me. 

“Tell everyone what you want to do in college,” Shane encourages, and Evie fiddles with the ends of her plaits. “Oh, well, art, I think.”

“You make art?” I say.

Immediately her face reddens. It must be a side effect of her kind of complexion. 

“Yeah, I suppose I’m okay at it.”

“Everyone says she’s great at it.” Liam says proudly, as though we are discussing his accomplishments and not Evie’s. “I haven’t seen her drawings yet, but the girls were raving about her. She draws in her sketchbook every day.”

“That’s cool.” I speak pointedly to her and not him, “What do you draw?” 

“Just whatever I see. Landscapes, people, sometimes still life, like stuff that’s lying around in the mobile home. I really like doing it, because when I’m drawing I don’t have to think about anything else.”

I smile. Somehow it’s comforting to hear her talking about art in a way that’s wholly familiar to me, as a meditation, a form of escapism.

“Jude is an artist too.” Jen says. “Ye have something in common.”

“Yeah, I’m studying art in college next year. I already have my place in the Berlin Academy of Fine Arts to do a degree.”

“Oh, so you’re studying abroad?”

“Yeah, it’s going to be good. Four years in Germany, I can’t wait. I’m actually leaving at the end of the summer,” which is… about seven weeks. My palms prickle and become damp with sweat but I keep smiling. It’s fine. Everything will just fall into place as long as I don't get stressed. 

Claire interrupts our conversation with her return, and kneels whispering urgent sounding things to Evie. I don’t hear anything but the delightful phrase “throwing up everywhere” and wonder with utter dread what exactly constitutes everywhere. On the couch? The rug? Up the walls? Well, at least it’ll be motivation to clean the house for once. Still, I’m struck by how much I fucking hate Kelly Healy in that moment, and consider suggesting that Jen clean up her vomit as penance for inviting her in the first place. 

“I can get my dad to come and collect us,” Liam is saying as he and Evie are getting up to help.

“Is everything okay?” says Jen, and Evie smiles tightly, “Yeah, just Kelly’s sick, so we’re going to have to take her home and look after her and stuff.”

“You don’t have to go, Evie, you can stay here with us if you want.”

She shakes her head, “No, I do. I want to go with them,” she turns to leave, but Jen quickly catches her wrist, “Hey, you should come to Dublin with us this weekend.”

“Huh?”

“Jude and I are going to an exhibition, and you might really like it.”

Usually I’d be pissed off that she’s changing our plans without consulting me first, but it seems like a good idea to me, actually. Maybe it’d be nice to go to an exhibition with someone who enjoys art, and not just Jen who walks around pointing at things and saying I could do that if I was bothered.

“No pressure at all,” I assure her, “but yeah, if you want to, you’re welcome. We’ll mostly be hanging out in the city for the day anyway so whatever you feel like doing.”

Jen pats her hand and gives her a meaningful look, “I’m just saying, it might be nice to get away for an afternoon.”

Evie grins. It’s the happiest I’ve seen her look all night, “I’d love to.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

Corresponding LG Chapter

#lucky boy 2010 #shoving Liam out of the way so that Evie and Jude can talk #love them sm like honestly #it's been so easy to write their dialogue and gdhsdgf #i'm excited for what's to follow #tw: alcohol #tw: vomit mention

[mellosdrawings]

*waves and beams exhaustedly but no less genuine* hi! Just wanted to take a moment and let you know that you're art makes me very happy. I do sincerely hope it makes you happy as well and just know you are doing outstanding work.

(I'm kinda feral over how you draw both Azul and Jamil. They are so cute and handsome as well as Jamil's pretty hair.)

I was curious, I saw some people requesting stuff but didn't really see you saying you are taking any, but if you are and don't mind, I would really, really, really love to see Silver x Leona with Silver sleeping sitting up and Leona with his head in his lap (or as an alternative, them both sleeping prone <bed, ground, whatever, the surface is not important> and Leona <the important part> is absolutely using Silver as a body pillow. Just as long as this is a request you'd feel like doing. Don't feel obligated. :D

Finally, because I saw some of your art today and I've been having a bad day—your art made me feel quite a bit better in general, so i wanted to thank you for sharing your gorgeous art with us. Sending you epic vibes and setting the intention that your day as well as your week is productive but not stressful and your weekend is absolutely rejuvenating. Have yourself a fabulous day!~ 💜💜💜

Oooooh a long ask! Ok, Imma try to answer in order not to miss anything.

First, thanks so much for reaching out! I was having a terrible night and you made it better, you have no idea how much it means to me! I'm super happy you like my little nonsense, I hope you'll keep appreciating!

I can't say I take requests, but I also can't say I don't take requests, so really you and others can shoot your shots! At best I'm gonna draw it, at worst I'll kindly decline or keep the request in my inbox until I feel like doing it. The thing is, I can't really "open" requests since my doing them vary a lot depending on my health, so I'd need to open/close it every other day and it'd be a hassle for everybody. Just ask, you lose nothing by doing it, I swear I don't bite <3

Now, for our favorite sleepy boys-

-looks like Silver attracted a whole other kind of animal this time.

(Once again, thank you so much for the kind message, I'm literally glowing despite today being a bad day, and the request was too cute for me not to take forty minutes to do it <3)

#don't forget guys - taking naps is healthy! #mello's drawings #request #ask me anything #twisted wonderland #silver #leona kingscholar #twst #art #my art

[moonsofmachinery]

So this isnt a pride req but you still don't have to answer!! But how do you draw so quickly?? I swear you draw like 2-4 times a day? I wanna get on a really good schedule about that so I can keep up with a art blog but idk how to draw fast! How'd you do it?

I hope it helps If I go over my entire process here because I've been wanting to showcase my process for awhile anyways :}

Haha! Yeah, i usually try and draw ~4 things min a day. Now, let me clarify, to run an art blog you don't have to draw fast! I do try and take breaks if I need them!!! But a lot of my speed has to do with the fact I've just been in a very art-inclined mood as of late :} It's a lot easier to draw if you WANT to draw! and knowing people like my stuff is a huge motivator.

Long post below where I explain my process and some of the shortcuts I take!! :]

For more skill-based tips though, my method definitely helps. Drawing lineless and paying attention to my stabilizer helps a lot. I'm definitely not a perfectionist when it comes to my art and I do tend to reuse poses I KNOW im comfortable with if I'm not in the mood to go all out.

I sketch freely with loose stabilizer using a pencil-like pen that allows me to get a good idea of the details I want down... Ex:

I have a very good grasp on the way i draw slugcats and how their bodies are shaped! Depending on the characters you're drawing, you should try drawing them a TON to get to a point where you can sketch them without even looking at a ref of any kind. My designs tend to stay consistent as I have a solid idea of each slugcat in my mind! It helps me pace myself as I generally don't need refs! :}

Next, I blot out my main body shape. I then, using a clip layer, add in lines and line in limbs! Generally I do this all in the same colour, get the main shapes down before you add detail and all that...

I blot out different regions of my character in different colours and section off areas to ensure I can later select these and go over them! Doing lineless helps me a ton as I don't use a lot of layers! it's just the style im more used to :}

Lastly, I add in my colours and adjust places where I can adding in all markings and details and recolouring where I need to! I use the selection wand to help me and I also use clip layers.

The details are relatively easy for me, most of the time its just getting to doodle whatever I want to make the colour combo look the best I can!!! :} The final result of this one will be posted on its own, but I just use CSP tools to add an outline-- I'm not sure if you use Clip Studio Paint, but if you do, you can use the effect feature!

Its just a little thing I add to make my drawing pop against the background!!!! :D

Anddd thats how I pump out art at an inhuman rate! Drawing is one of the few things I can do without my chronic pain kicking my ass so a lot of my day is spent at my computer cozy n' arting! Drawing for too long does cause fatigue in anyone though! I reccomend listening to something engaging in the background (if your attention can take it) and taking regular breaks every ~15-30 minutes.

This piece took me 30 minutes?? maybe a little more! I hope this gave you what you were lookin for :D!!!!! I wish u well in ur art blog n' make sure not to stress urself!!!!!

#moons - talks #long post #art guide #art tips #art advice #I hope this is actually helpful lolll ive been wanting to talk about this for a stupidly long time

[h50europe]

9-1-1 Buck/Tommy - Love me as I'm a morning with no alarm...

While Tommy is still fast asleep, Buck begins stowing away the remaining moving boxes in the attic, which Tommy had kindly offered him for storage space. As Buck rummages through the attic, he comes across a collage featuring Tommy's photos and is immediately smitten. He carefully brings it downstairs and settles on the sectional, gazing at it dreamily for several minutes.

Until his attention is drawn to the coffee table, where Jee's neatly arranged pens and some of her drawings are laid out. Among her drawings is one that depicts the three of them, with Buck on her right and Tommy on her left. Tommy's handwriting adorns the drawing, with the words "Me and my uncles" encircled by a pink heart.

Feeling inspired, Buck takes one of Jee's pink pens and, with his tongue sticking out from the corner of his mouth, adds his drawings and writings to the pictures. After he finishes, he looks at the result with a proud grin. Just as he's about to bask in his accomplishment, he's startled by Tommy's voice from behind, "That needs to be framed and put on the wall in my office at the station."

Buck blushes and responds, "So you consider this a masterpiece? But don't you think it might be a bit too much? I mean, what would your colleagues say?"

Tommy leans in from behind, planting gentle kisses on Buck's birthmark, temple, and cheek before taking a closer look at Jee's drawing. "Little Jee has such talent and is truly the best niece one could have," Tommy remarks proudly.

Buck's gaze shifts to the sheet in his hand and his smile wavers. "I suppose so," he says, his voice tinged with disappointment. He had hoped for a different reaction.

Just as he's about to resign to his thoughts, Tommy surprises him by plopping down on the sectional next to him, showing a genuine interest in the pictures and Buck's 'additions.'

"I find it adorable that you put a crown on my head, think I'm cool, and appear to have a total crush on me," Tommy says with a grin as he shows Buck what he's done.

"But I have something for you as well," Tommy says, smirking as he hands Buck a sheet with a photograph, doodles, and printed text. Buck reads the lines. Then, looks at Tommy and says, "You planned that all along? But how did you know…?"

"Evan Buckley you are an open book to me and I knew it was only a matter of time…"

"Tommy Kinard?"

"What?"

"Shut up and let me love you as you're a morning with no alarm."

Tommy doesn't even have the time to reply as Buck takes the lead and presses him down with his weight. They started making out like crazy until they lose their balance and drop to the floor, laughing, now with Tommy on top.

But not for long, as Buck flips him back on his back. They stare into each other's eyes, let their souls talk and start a dance to a song only they can hear…

#buck tommy #bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buck buckley #bobby nash #athena grant #oliver stark #lou ferrigno jr. #tevan #kinkley #buck tommy ficlet

[captainmera]

Anything you've been researching recently for any of your projects?

Right now, I'm watching a lot of videos on YouTube about storytelling and analysises of cartoon movies!

I think I'm in one of those developing phases again where I'm elevating my knowledge and style, meaning that the projects themselves are slowed down or halted.

So yes, I'm doing a lot of research atm.

Aside from art and writing techniques, I take breaks from that to read and listen to history stuff. Esoteric history in particular.

I'm fond of the average Joe & Jane & Jam's contemporary thoughts of their time. Yknow the little things that make a culture really come to life.

Sometimes people ask what/where/how I actually collect my research and information. And if, in case, you who read this is one of those people: all I can say is that - every documentary you watch, watch it with story and people in mind.

I think that's why I like to draw backgrounds.

Because it's in the little things. We can get to know a character in a mili-second just by getting a sweeping look of their bedroom. It can be full of trinkets that make them who they are.

Stories that are inspired by historical eras (fantasy world, fictional history or realism) can be tricky if you dont know what people surrounded themselves with.

What's around them out of necessity (radio, stove, broom, drying herbs) and whats around them because they like it (decoration, photos, choice of curtains, art, bowl of stale caramels etc)

A good start is to look around your own home. Kitchens are a great start for that. What's there out of necessity, and what makes it YOUR kitchen?

Now, apply those same eyes when you watch documentaries, or read about people, or look at old illustrations. And you'll start picking up the little bits that make people into people of their time.

Now....

Lately....

After seeing disney's catastrophe of a movie WISH, I thought it'd be a good exercise to try work within the limits of story telling to make my own movie - AS A PRACTICE. Not a serious thing to send in anywhere. Just.. for the love of storytelling.

So I've specifically looked into disney analysis and what people like/don't like in movies. What people think is what makes them work and not.

The good thing about writing a story that has to be told in a limited time frame of ca 1h and 45min is that it forces you to be creative.

You have to get to the point. You have to figure out how to tell some things by visuals alone to save time.

My achiles heel in writing os exposition. I have a tendency to infodump. The way i do exposition is boring, bland, and a bit timeous to read thru.

No wonder my fanfics are so damn long. I repeat and explain too much.

Comics are so much easier for me because I can explain things with expressions instead, or with backgrounds, or colour the mood (literally).

Writing a script is basically just summary and expositions. But I don't know how to write scripts. So atm, it's just conceptual ideas mixed with a lot of this happens then this then this. Etc.

So I guess my side dismey-prince-project is nice to pride at. With that I can do what I did in my fanfics (exercise and explore writing) without the pressure from an already existing fandom.

I call it "the tails project" and it very clearly draws inspiration from what I've built for Evelyn and Caleb. But instead of Philip as a brother, I've taken in Gus as inspo instead. Because for one, I just love Gus. And two, I like his dynamic as a little brother more. And three, in this story the lio bro isn't evil. So yay.

Anyway.

All to say that all of these things I just do to use in ibwr eventually anyway. Ibwr is my baby, and I really like storytelling. So all that I do and gather, I gather essentially to dump into ibwr.

Get better at art? For ibwr.

Research history? For ibwr.

Practice writing? For ibwr.

Make a side project in a different medium to learn new things? For ibwr.

*SHRUG*

So yeah.

While I'm anyway burnt out and can't concentrate much. And my arm hurts a bit again. I watch and read things to sponge up knowledge.

No knowledge is useless. Knowing about hatpins is just as important as knowing about bat echolocation, or that lobsters were poverty food once upon a time, and that haircare in the 1790s was different depending on hair type just like it is today, or that starvation & generational lasting community illness stunted the growth and that's pm why ppl were so collectively short back in the days.

......

Td;lr

Yeah, I'm reading about.... stuff.

#liveblogging #ask

[estellan0vella]

Betrayed Affections ❀ Uraume (REQUESTED) Masterlist Pt 1

The moon hangs heavy in the night sky, its pale light filtering through the tall windows of the ancient estate. You wander the silent halls, your footsteps barely making a sound on the polished stone floors.

The air is cool, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the gardens outside. Your thoughts are a whirlwind, your heart a fragile thing, broken and aching in your chest.

Uraume. The name echoes in your mind like a bitter mantra, each repetition a fresh stab of pain. Your lover, your confidant, your trusted companion. You had believed in them, had given them your heart without reservation. And they had taken it, only to shatter it with their betrayal.

You had stumbled upon them in the midst of their treachery, their lips pressed against those of a servant girl, their hands caressing her with the same tenderness they once reserved for you.

The sight had stolen your breath, leaving you frozen in place, disbelief and heartbreak warring within you. When they had finally noticed you, their eyes wide with shock, it had been too late. The damage was done.

Now, with nowhere else to turn, you find yourself standing before the grand doors of your brother's chamber. Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses, feared and revered in equal measure. He is your elder brother, your protector, the one constant in your life. Taking a deep breath, you push the doors open and step inside.

The room is dimly lit, the flickering flames of candles casting long shadows on the walls. Sukuna lounges on a throne-like chair, his imposing figure relaxed yet exuding an aura of power. His four eyes, sharp and discerning, flicker up to meet yours as you enter. He takes in your tear-streaked face, the anguish in your eyes, and his expression softens slightly, a rare sight for anyone else but you.

"Brother," you manage to whisper, your voice trembling. "I... I need you."

He rises from his chair, his movements fluid and graceful. As he approaches, you can feel the familiar warmth of his presence, a stark contrast to the cold emptiness that has settled in your heart. Without a word, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. For a moment, you allow yourself to melt into his strength, the tears flowing freely.

"What happened?" he asks, his voice a low rumble.

You pull back slightly, just enough to look up at him. "Uraume... they betrayed me. With a servant girl."

For a moment, there's silence as Sukuna's face hardens in anger and there's a trace of pain in his eyes as if he feels the agony in your heart. "They dare to hurt you?" he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "You will not suffer alone, sister."

He holds you until your sobs subside, his presence a solid anchor in your storm of emotions. Despite his fearsome reputation, Sukuna's touch is gentle, his embrace a haven of safety you desperately need. His fingers brush through your hair, and he lets you cry until there's nothing left but a hollow ache in your chest.

"I will make them pay," he promises, his voice soft but laced with steel. "But first, you need to confront them. Show them the strength they underestimated."

"Not today," You murmur. "I fear if I do it today, I shall only cry"

Sukuna nods understandingly, his grip on you loosening just enough to allow you some space. "That is fine, sister," he says, his voice a soothing balm to your wounded soul. "You don't have to confront them until you're ready. Take all the time you need."

You offer him a weak smile, grateful for his unwavering support. "Thank you, Sukuna," you say softly, the words barely above a whisper. "I don't know what I would do without you."

He returns your smile, his four eyes gleaming with warmth. "You will never have to find out," he assures you, his tone filled with conviction. "I will always be here for you, no matter what."

You lean into his embrace once more, drawing strength from his presence. For a while, you simply stand there in silence, the weight of your heartbreak easing ever so slightly in his company.

Eventually, Sukuna pulls back, his hands resting gently on your shoulders as he meets your gaze. "Is there anything else I can do for you, sister?" he asks, his voice gentle yet firm.

You shake your head, a small sigh escaping your lips. "Just... stay with me a little longer," you request, a hint of vulnerability creeping into your voice.

Sukuna nods, a soft smile gracing his lips. "Of course," he says, his tone reassuring. "I'll stay with you as long as you need me."

When you finally confront Uraume, they are with the servant girl again, their laughter cutting through you like a knife. The room falls silent as you enter, your heart pounding in your chest. Uraume's eyes widen with shock and something else—guilt, perhaps?—as they see you and Sukuna standing together.

"How could you?" you whisper, your voice trembling but determined. "How could you betray me like this?"

Uraume steps forward, reaching out to you, but Sukuna's growl stops them in their tracks. "Don't you dare touch her," he snarls. "You've done enough damage."

Tears well up in your eyes again, but you blink them away, refusing to let Uraume see you break. "I loved you," you say, your voice steadier now. "I trusted you. And this is how you repay me?"

"I... I'm sorry," Uraume stammers, their eyes flicking nervously to Sukuna, whose gaze is fixed on them with murderous intensity. "It was a mistake, a moment of weakness—"

"A mistake?" you echo, incredulous. "A moment of weakness that has been going on behind my back? How long, Uraume? How long have you been betraying me?"

They look down, unable to meet your eyes. "A few months," they admit quietly. "But it meant nothing, I swear—"

"Nothing?" The word feels like a slap. "It meant everything to me. You meant everything to me."

Sukuna steps forward, placing a hand on your shoulder, his presence a calming force. "You don't have to forgive them," he says quietly, his eyes never leaving Uraume's. "And they need to understand the consequences of their actions."

A heavy silence falls over the room. Uraume looks like they want to say more, to plead for your forgiveness, but the presence of your brother seems to hold them in check. 

"This is the one?" he asks, his tone deadly as he looks at the servant girl who is cowering in fear.

You nod, unable to tear your gaze away from Uraume's face. "Yes."

In a blur of motion, Sukuna is upon the servant girl. She barely has time to scream before his hand plunges into her chest, tearing out her heart with brutal efficiency. Blood splatters the ground, and the girl's lifeless body crumples at his feet. Uraume watches in horror, their face pale and stricken.

Sukuna turns to Uraume, holding the still-beating heart in his hand before he drops it at Uraume's feet. "This is what you deserve," Sukuna says, his voice cold and final. "Betrayal is met with punishment."

You watch, numb, as Uraume cradles the dead girl in their arms, sobbing. The sight of their pain does little to soothe your own, but there's a grim satisfaction in seeing them suffer for what they've done.

"Her death is your burden to bear," You say to Uraume. "Her blood is on your hands"

When Uraume finally looks up, their eyes red-rimmed and swollen with tears, there's a pleading desperation in their gaze. "My Lady, please," they beg, their voice choked with emotion. "I... I didn't mean for this to happen. I love you, I swear it."

You feel a pang in your chest at their words, a small part of you still clinging to the love you once shared. But it's overshadowed by the overwhelming sense of betrayal, the knowledge that they had chosen someone else over you.

"It's too late for apologies," you say, your voice cold and distant. "You made your choice, Uraume. And now you have to live with the consequences."

Sukuna steps forward, his eyes narrowed in contempt. "Your words are meaningless now," he says, his voice dripping with disdain. "You have proven yourself unworthy of my sister's love. Just as I knew you would"

Uraume's shoulders slump in defeat, the weight of their actions finally settling upon them. They bow their head, unable to meet your gaze. "I understand," they whisper, their voice barely audible. "I deserve whatever punishment you see fit."

"Your punishment is not for me to decide," he says, his eyes flickering to you. "It is for my sister to determine."

You look at Uraume, their form hunched and broken before you, and for a moment, you feel a twinge of pity. But it's quickly overshadowed by the anger and hurt that still simmers within you.

"You will never be forgiven," you say, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside you. "You are to never serve me personally in this estate, you are to spend your life in servitude to my brother. Whatever he asks of you, you shall do. But know this Uraume, you shall never know love or happiness for as long as I breathe. Any time I see you with a flicker of joy, I shall tear away the source of it"

Sukuna smirks, crossing his arms as he watches you lean down to be eye level with Uraume as poison drips from the words you say.

"There is some darkness in you after all sister," Sukuna says approvingly before he glances at Uraume, his tone turning harsh. "Leave us. Return later to clear up this mess"

As Uraume stumbles away, their steps heavy with the weight of their punishment, you feel a mixture of relief and emptiness wash over you. The air feels heavy with tension as you turn to face Sukuna, his presence towering beside you like a looming shadow.

For a moment, neither of you speaks, the silence stretching between you like a taut thread. Then, Sukuna breaks it with a low chuckle, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

"You certainly know how to deliver punishment, sister," he says, his voice laced with amusement. "I almost feel sorry for Uraume."

You glance at him, surprised by the hint of amusement in his tone. "You don't think it was too harsh?"

Sukuna shakes his head, his expression serious now. "No," he says firmly. "Uraume betrayed you, and they must face the consequences of their actions. Your punishment was just. I would have executed them"

You nod, a sense of validation washing over you at his words. "Thank you, Sukuna," you say quietly, gratitude colouring your tone.

He reaches out, placing a hand on your shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle. "You don't have to thank me, sister," he says, his voice softening. "I will always stand by your side, no matter what."

You feel a lump form in your throat at his words, a swell of emotion threatening to overwhelm you. Sukuna may be feared by many, but to you, he is more than just the King of Curses. He is your brother, your protector, the one constant in your life.

"I don't know what I would do without you," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sukuna's grip tightens slightly, a reassuring squeeze that fills you with warmth. "You will never have to find out," he says, his gaze steady and unwavering. "I will always be here for you, sister. Always."

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x y/n #sukuna x reader #platonic sukuna x reader #uraume x you #uraume x y/n #uraume x reader #jjk angst #jjk comfort #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna sister #sukuna x sister!reader

[dorthyanndrarry]

Unknown -2-

Tags: Angst, Post war deatheater prejudice, light injuries, chronic illness, post war trauma

Suggested rating: Teen

<- Part 1 ||

-

Draco shook the melting snow from his hands and pulled up the collar on his robes, ducking his head down between his shoulders. He pushed his hands deep into his pockets relishing what was left of the weak heating charms drawing the numbness from his fingers.

He slipped into the crowd, doing his best not to get too close to anyone, cutting through the narrow alley leading to Carkitt Market. Before stepping out into the market, he pressed himself into the shadow of Gladrag's awning. He drew his wand, pulling his sleeve down to obscure it as much as possible before casting a basic healing episkey on his knees and hands. It closed the scrapes but left the dull ache of the tender, bruised flesh. The important thing was that it looked good as new.

He followed the episkey with a quick cleaning charm and a reparo on his torn slacks. He ran his hand over the fabric to make sure it took, finding the linen fully patched though it had gotten thinner. Soon there wouldn't be enough fabric left to stretch and they would begin to fray, or unravel entirely.

Draco shivered and quickly put his wand away before stepping back out onto the street. He followed the edge of the square around to the owl post office and stepped inside to use their public apparition zone.

He landed on the gravel drive in front of the manor.

"You're late," Narcissa said. She was standing in front of the doors waiting for him. Her face was drawn and pale despite the heavy cloak wrapped around her. "Is everything okay? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Mother," Draco said, hurrying over to her.

"You said you'd be home twenty minutes ago," Narcissa said, a shaking hand reaching out to the railing and starting down the steps.

Draco cursed under his breath. He should have kept better track of time. He should have hurried.

Draco quickly picked out a lie that would be believable, "A queue at the potions supply held me up." He took the stairs two at a time, catching her other hand in his before she could take another step. Her skin was cold, shivers making her fingers tremble.

"It's too cold out here," Draco said, tugging Narcissa back up the steps, an arm around her shoulders to support her.

"Next time, use the house elves for the shopping, won't you? You must. It's not safe in Diagon Alley," Narcissa said.

"They do all the shopping other than my potion supplies," Draco said gently. He clenched his jaw to hide the wince of pain as he pulled the door open with his sprained wrist and ushered Narcissa inside.

The door thumped closed behind them, their steps echoing loudly on the cold marble floor. The rugs and tapestries were gone, destroyed during the war, or disposed of not long after. Only a few sconces still had working lighting charms in them, leaving the entry hall in a permanent dusk.

"Send the elves o-or owl order them, you don't have to go. You should stay safe. You need to be safe." Narcissa said, grasping Draco's hand so tightly the tendons showed through her thin skin.

Draco forced a thin smile. "Of course. I'll do that from now on," he lied, taking out his wand and casting a passable warming charm over his mother, rubbing her arms to speed the warmth into her bones. "You shouldn't wait outside, you'll catch sick again."

"You were so late," Narcissa said weakly, her shivers going stronger for a moment before slowly beginning to subside.

"The windows in the drawing room look out onto the drive," Draco suggested.

"I don't like the drawing room," Narcissa said sharply.

"Right, right," he said quickly. There were many rooms one or both them hadn't stepped foot into since the war ended and the Aurors finished their exhaustive sweep of the property. It was hard to keep track of them all.

"Draco, darling-"

"I won't leave again. I'll stay here," Draco reassured her. He would make sure he only went out when she was resting, then she wouldn't have to worry. He could tell their elves, the two they had left, to fetch him if she woke before he was done. He would go mad if he had to stay in this tomb for the rest of his life.

Narcissa nodded to herself, "good... good."

As her anxiety drained away, so did her strength and she slumped, leaning all of her weight against him.

He held her tighter, "Mother-!"

"I'm fine," Narcissa said faintly.

"You are not," Draco said, guiding her down the hall to the small side room near the kitchens that had been repurposed into a bedroom so she wouldn't have to go up and down the stairs. He shouldered the door open and helped his mother to her bed.

"I will be, I just need to rest, to get my strength back," Narcissa said, letting her cloak fall onto the ground and collapsing onto her bed.

Draco grabbed a heavy throw blanket from the end of the bed and tucked it around her.

"Wake me for dinner," Narcissa said, her eyelids drooping.

"If you feel up to it," Draco said.

"I will," Narcissa said with a weak smile, "Promise that you will. I hardly get to see you otherwise, you're always at your cauldron."

Draco sighed, "Very well. I shall see you for dinner."

Narcissa smiled as her eyes closed and she fell into an exhausted sleep.

Draco leaned over and pressed a brief kiss to the top of her head. He hoped this would not lead to relapse, she had only just recovered from the last illness that had left her bed-bound for weeks.

He collected the empty potion bottles from her nightstand and dropped them in a basket that one of their elves would bring to his brewing room once it was full. He pulled open the drawer took out a fresh bottle of each and lined them up on the edge where they would be easy to grab.

Draco took a quick inventory of the potions left in the drawer. She was nearly out of invigoration draught, so he would make more of that first. The healing potion and draught of peace were equally low but the healing potion was more important so that would come next, followed by the draught of peace, then dreamless sleep and girding potions.

He slid the drawer shut and stood up with a sigh. And he needed to find time somewhere to prepare a blood- replenishing potion. Draco hoped it might provide his mother more strength if administered in smaller doses. If it didn't, he'd try another potion and another, as many as it took. He couldn't lose her. She was all he had left in the world.

-

Tags below v💜 same as always, leave a message or reblog to get tagged in the next post

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#dorthyannwrites #dorthyanndrarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #drarry #drarry fanfiction #unknown fanfiction

[centipede-gutzz]

🍞 KENTO NANAMI RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

A/N: ah...i love this man so much. sorry for not posting, haven't been in the writing mood too much. can you tell that this was starting to become more like a fic rather than a simple headcanon list ?

WARNINGS: N/A

TYPE: headcanons, gn reader, platonic/romantic

Companionship was always hard to achieve in your life. Ever since you were little, you were always seeing creatures roaming around that no one else seemed to notice. You've tried countless times to point them out; countless drawings of the horrid things you had to witness. Yet, everyone just saw you as an odd child with a wild imagination.

You've learned to ignore them as you grew older, perhaps it was for the best. Friends were still never easy; how is it possible to look someone in the eye when they have something clinging to their body as they complain about the constant feeling of dread and body pain?

An office job was the best thing you could settle for. Something to keep you busy from the amount of curses you see more and more each day. Maybe it wasn't the best idea, seeing how many times you had to stay late at night to finish multiple assignments that were given to you by your boss or others because you always said yes to help out.

Despite everything, there was always one person to stand out to you in your job. Never asking you to help, always in his own space, and the only other person to stay after work hours. Kento Nanami, you've learned the name after seeing some interactions with him and the other coworkers.

You don't know what made him so interesting to you. Perhaps because he was so similar to you in multiple ways, and in another that you don't know yet. For the first time in who knows how long, you decide to pursue some sort of acquaintance with someone else, throwing out the fears of being avoided that plagued you for years.

PLATONIC

☆- you honestly didn't know how to converse with him as you start to gather up some courage. simple "good mornings" will have to do for now. you give a small nod to him and muster up a kind smile (that seems more tired than you'd like it to be).

☆- he seems to warm up to it, eventually starting to say good morning back to you and the occasional wave.

☆- nanami seemed to be a bit more comfortable with small talk, asking you about your day and if things have been treating you well. you both know the answer to that, but it still means a lot to you that he asks about your wellbeing.

☆- one day, you gave him an extra sandwich you bought for lunch. he didn't have anything for once, and you wanted him to eat to get more energy for the day. he refused at first, saying that it was your own but you only insisted he take it. he eventually did, thanking you with a small smile on his face (you knew he was capable of smiling, but it still felt like some rare occurrence).

☆- he started to help you with more late work, the constant workload on your shoulders easing up as time went by. both of you got into a little rhythm of helping each other out with whatever else needed to be done.

☆- you both finally had some time to bond outside of work, going to some food places to try out new things that both of you wanted the other to try. food always seemed to be a topic each day from then on.

☆- it was a normal day at work, lunch break was taking place as you and nanami eat some leftovers that he made from dinner (a recipe that he wanted to try and offered to make you some). a curse popped up on your shoulder, making you jump and swat away at it.

☆- nanami could only look at you in surprise, asking you if you were able to see the curse as well. your eyes widen as you quietly nod, explaining how you were never able to find someone like you and were unable to get rid of them no matter how hard you tried.

☆- he stayed silent for a moment before swiping his hand in front of the curse, making it disappear with a small shriek. you rub your shoulder and look at him in amazement, expressing your thanks.

☆- a lot is to be shared after this moment. you both share each other's personal experience with curses, with his being more informed and in depth with people he's lost and the world he left behind.

☆- "you don't to seem to be faring any better here too," you tell him. he sighs, agreeing with a small, tired smile.

☆- despite his work troubles, you were there to make things more better for him. he enjoys your company and wishes for it to stay that way. "as selfish as that may seem," he says with a sheepish laugh.

☆- you assure him that it's not selfish to want companionship, since it's something you've been wanting your whole life. he's someone who's become prominent in your lonely life now, and you hope that he sticks around.

ROMANTIC

☆- a more deeper relationship is something that you would have to ask for. nanami is unsure about how you feel and gives you that choice to pursue something more.

☆- if you don't say anything or wish for things to stay the same, he quietly accepts the friendship you both have. if you do feel the same...he wouldn't mind a simple confession. or anything that just feels like something you would do.

☆- it could be a normal day at work or lunch, with the addition of asking him if he wants the relationship to be something more. perhaps you treat him out to a nice restaurant that he's been eyeing lately and pop the question there. whatever you decide, he hopes that you don't notice the extreme giddiness he feels behind the warm smile he gives you as he accepts.

☆- not much else changed once you two got together, just add more romantic gestures and inviting you to dinner at his place.

☆- he's not much of a PDA person...everything is indoors. he'll hold your hand or keep you close to him in crowded places.

☆- nanami remembers EVERYTHING that you like and dislike, especially when it comes to food. you would think he has it all written down somewhere, but it's all just mental notes. and god, his heart just flutters if you do the same for him.

☆- it's takes a good bit before you both share a kiss. he took you back home late at night after a nice outing, leaving a small kiss on your lips. it's a reoccurring topic, your flushed face always being one of the things he will never forget (to your embarrassment).

☆- when he decides to return to his roots as a jujutsu sorcerer, he's REALLY worried about you being somewhat involved of having to experience that same loss he did back then.

☆- you have to assure him that he's strong and won't let anything kill him that easily. no matter how he dies, he won't go down without taking something down with him.

☆- it's a steady start back, but it's not long until you meet some of nanami's old "friends". gojo seems to be the one who pisses him off the most.

☆- you both are often visiting each other's homes. he comes over for dinner and tells you about his day (possibly leaving out a few gorey details). he never fails to notice that lovestruck look in your eyes whenever you listen to him talk.

☆- he's all around nanami, asking questions about you and "how did you manage to bag such a cutie with an attitude like yours?" his voice is teasing and nanami looks like he wants to quit already.

☆- dinner ends up being a little movie date on your couch, ending up with either one of you falling asleep on the other. you smile in your sleep whenever he kisses you on the forehead and whispers sweet words to you.

#📃 headcanons #💥 not a request #⭐️ platonic #❤️ romantic #☀️ fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x gn reader #jujutsu kaisen x gn reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x gn reader

[humiliatingsluts2]

Show Off Part 1

You've always been the quiet sort. Never the popular girl, and certainly never the centre of attention. You did get attention, of course. Boys liked you, you liked them, but it never really worked. You're even seeing a guy now – fucking him once a week – but it's casual, no feelings.

You arrive at his place, Friday night as usual. You're wearing casual clothes, long past the point of trying to impress him: yoga pants and a tank top. Buzzed into the apartment you walk up the stairs to his door and it's open as usual. But as you enter you hear the murmur of conversation, and you step into the living room to see he has four friends, all men, sitting on the sofas with beers in hand. You look over at him with a nervous questioning look, but he just smiles and beckons you over. As you walk through the room the men look up at you and you feel them sizing up your body.

You nervously perch on the sofa beside your fuckbuddy, he hands you a beer and places his hand firmly on your thigh, pulling you closer. He introduces you to the group as "the friend I was telling you about", and the guys say hello then go back to chatting and laughing. You feel uncomfortably out of place. And only more so when you feel your fuckbuddy slide his hand further up your thigh until it is resting on your pussy. You were horny already and you feel yourself get wetter at his touch.

He looks over you and grins, "Show us your tits." You stare at him in confusion, you must have misheard. He rubs against your cunt and says it again, slower and louder. His friends are all staring now too and you feel yourself blush. But somehow, you realise you want to do as he says, and you lift your top, showing your bra. He pulls your bra down and your tits are out. He squeezes them and his friends start commenting, the consensus is that your tits are on the smaller side, but hot. After a few minutes of conversation about your tits, they start talking about football again, you seem forgotten.

Your fuckbuddy takes one of your hands and places it on his crotch, and you feel his cock through his shorts. You start slowly stroking it and he rubs your cunt faster. As far as you can tell, his friends haven't noticed. Feeling brave and horny, you slip your hand into the waistband of his shorts and start jerking off his cock. He copies you and soon his fingers are in your cunt.

Being fingered in front of all these strangers is driving you wild and you feel yourself close to cumming. He realises and speaks again, drawing everyone's attention, "She's about to cum already, should I let her?" All his friends focus on you again and being exposed like that is the last straw, you moan and hump your fuckbuddy's hand as you cum. The shame of looking so horny in front of them makes it more intense, and you know your yoga pants are probably visibly soaked through. You pant and realise what you've just done. All his friend's are staring at you hungrily, and you feel shame and fear. Your fuckbuddy breaks your state of shock,

"You're not done, slut, get on your knees." You know you shouldn't, but when you hear him call you a slut you almost moan, and you slip off the sofa and onto the floor between his legs. You are so horny you don't even think twice before pulling down his shorts and licking his cock, from base to head and back again. His friends are all watching, and you smirk and spit some drool onto his cock. He cracks open another beer and sits back as you start bobbing your head up and down.

You are good at sucking cock. You take pride in how well you deep throat, how you make cute gagging noises, how you use your tongue to tease the head. You know your fuckbuddy won't last long, and you try even harder to look sexy for all his watching friends. He is moaning softly and you realise your hand is between your legs, pushing you closer to another orgasm. Each time you swirl your tongue you feel his cock throb, and you moan too, letting the vibrations add to the sensation.

He suddenly starts to grunt and his leg twitches. You obediently suck faster still, pushing him to cum. He thrusts his hips and feel his cum hit the back of your throat. You moan louder and swallow, your lips sealed to his cock as he squirts cum over and over into your mouth. You slowly release his cock and give it a kiss for effect. He tries to get his breath back, and you suddenly feel self conscious, looking around the room and seeing his friend's all starting at you lustfully. All of them have either taken their cock out, or have their hand down their trousers. Your fuckbuddy smiles, "Who's next?"

Follow me for new writing every Friday.

#my writing #show off

[simplespacedust]

@dead-catgirl

This message is a reply to a comment that i received on an earlier post, that was too long to put in my notes. the original post is linked here: https://www.tumblr.com/simplespacedust/752572123941355520/hey-so-im-gonna-talk-about-pro-shippers-and-anti?source=share

Hello! You're being respectful in my replies here so let's have a conversation about this! The first comment/point that you made about pro-shipping as an ideology I have already responded to in the most recent post on my blog so if you wanna read what I have there you can check that out.

For the second point about therapy and pro-shipping, I can’t really take your experiences with your personal therapist as a valid point in the argument because I have no proof of that, or any therapist encouraging it as a coping mechanism. But let’s even pretend that we could. In this hypothetical, maybe if a therapist encourages a person to write fictional porn of characters as a way of coping with their trauma, I still don't think they should be posting it on the internet, because I believe that does more harm than good. If you (the general you, not you specifically) REALLY need to write stories about people assaulting minors to cope with the fact that you were assaulted as a minor, then at the very least keep it to yourself. Airing out your personal trauma via south park characters raping each other does not seem like a good idea because it makes you more vulnerable to people on the internet who could use that against you, and it risks doing harm to others.

For the third point that you made, about people who cope by reading or looking at other’s art, is where we have to start looking at a larger picture than one person who wants to get off on minors being raped. The net impact of posting something like that to the internet, while it may make one person temporarily feel better by sending a surge of dopamine to their brain, reading or seeing something like that could severely harm the mental state of others. It's about the net impact and the bigger picture.

In your fourth point about children on the internet being unsupervised, I agree with you that children should not be given free reign over the internet. However, they are. Again, this goes back to the idea of net impact specifically by looking at an argument in a practical sense vs. how it would be in a perfect world. There are tons of unknowing kids who get into this unintentionally every day. I cannot provide proof of this just like you cannot provide proof of what your therapist said, but I knew someone personally who was on social media and got sucked into an online space FULL of pedophiles who would post drawings of children and say revolting things about them. I was the person who had to call my friend’s mom and get them help after their involvement in this. I saw what they were saying to each other, and while I was not traumatized, others that asked me what happened had to stop me mid-way through my description because they couldn't handle how vile it all was. Again, real world implications over ideal world scenarios.

For your fifth point, I don't believe anti=safe in all cases no matter what. Pedophiles are fucking everywhere and it is disgusting, but creating art that indulges that only furthers the issue and creates more spaces on either side for them to slip into. For your sixth point, i am aware that a healthy, stable adult, upon seeing pro-shipper media, will not instantly become brainwashed and wanna fuck kids. But this goes back to the real world vs. idealistic scenario. Kids are bound to see that by nature of the internet, and it doesn't matter at that point. It can and will do harm to them. 

Now, after all the points that you made, you made a rather assumptive point about me personally, saying that I had seen pro-shipper media and gotten upset or triggered by it, and that I was able to tell it was immoral and not get brainwashed by it. I have seen pro-shipper media accidentally. While I did not get triggered by it/have a mental health episode in response to it, I did find it gross. And yes, I can tell that it was immoral and wrong. The problem is about the people younger than me that couldn’t/wouldn’t have the capacity to react the same way.

I have been on the internet for a long time. I know what I am getting into and I know how to handle seeing things that are gross to me. Again, ideal world vs. real world. Kids who see sexual content of a problematic nature are much more likely to not be able to handle what they see properly. Some kids may even become sucked into it and experience trauma of a sexual nature, thus making your coping mechanism create trauma for another person. No coping mechanism should EVER run the risk of traumatizing another person. That is selfish and inconsiderate imo. 

No worries about the essay in my comments, I appreciate you being respectful and organizing a clear argument without calling me offensive names and/or just swearing at me endlessly. This point that I am making actually has very little to do with me. Again, if I see pro-shipper art, I can just scroll and be fine. It's about the people that can’t. It’s fundamentally about empathy and healthy boundaries online, and understanding the impact that things you post can have on other people, mainly children.

[katsukikitten]

for clarity Hakuji has his human eyes, blue iris and white sclera, normal lashes and no face tattoos but shares a mix of his demon and human form tats. Currently he goes by Akaza in this fic as an alias. Please enjoy ~

You've been hunting down this bag for months, a cute weekender duffle by a designer that had a bit of an agreement with certain stores. Bought in bulk and at a discount because it didn't meet the luxury brands normal standards however the flaws are so small most people didn't even notice them.

You were dying to have this bag.

Especially since you'd gotten a purse in all black by the same brand for a heavily discounted price, the only one in the store and it haunted you enough you woke up early to fetch it the next day.

But as you stand in the store you drove nearly an hour to be in, you frown. Not because of the size oh no it was perfect for a week stay, maybe longer if you used packing cubes, the design just as you wanted it where there were Js in hearts printed into the bag but the pattern didn't overly draw attention. The only problem was the bag was in a soft blush pink and not that dusty pink or black you've seen them use before.

You place it on your cart, debate if trying to find it in ‘licorice’ online is worth the hassle, wonder if you can find those black heart shades you've been wanting too.

“Whatcha got there princess?” The man's voice is smooth, cutting over the ambient music and chatter that you'd toned out. You hadn't noticed him approach, silent footsteps to near you and of course there wasn't a single reflective surface in sight.

But before you can scrunch up your pretty features an arm is presented to you, palm up. Body ghosting yours while he waits for you to take notice of his inky midnight bands on his forearm, three thick lines encircling thick muscle that flexes from his twitching midnight fingers.

“Akaza!” You purr and he adores the sound. Glad he's the one who can disarm you so quickly, “M not dressed to see you.”

Truly you weren't at least not for a…what should you call this? Not really fuck buddies as each meeting didn't always end in sex and there were too few dates between you to be dating. It was more like a situationalship if anything else. A situationalship you held with someone who you were pretty sure was muscle for a notorious mafia head, that his ranking was higher than just a goon. Much higher.

“Not dressed to see me?” There's a chuckle to his voice as he wraps his arm around your rib cage to pull you to him. His scent has a richness about it that always invades your senses. He smelled like fresh air, faint cigarette smoke and a cologne you can't quite pin point.

“Mmhmm I don't even have my lip on.” You pout hiding away your bare face when usually you'd see him with some strategically placed highlighter, mascara and at least lip gloss. Normally in a skirt or dress that hid away some frilly lingerie set in case he decided to unwrap you that night.

Now you weren't sure your plain bra and underwear even matched.

Akaza thought you looked cute in a form fitting black tee with monster girls on the front, paired with skinny jeans that hugged your ass and thighs nicely and black flip flops that made your white toe nail polish pop.

To him you looked sexy.

His fingers gently tilt your chin to look up at him and he's met with the cutest pout he's ever seen. True to your word your long fluttering lashes were bare, your top lip naked with not one single swipe of black lip stain while your bottom was your natural color either on its own or enhanced with gloss or a nude lipstick. Under the afternoon sun and fluorescent lights he can even make out your freckles.

“As beautiful as the day I first laid eyes on ya.” He leans in and kisses your lips, smiling as he does so his natural fangs can catch on your pout. His heart races when you giggle into the exchange.

“Flattery will get you nowhere Mr. Akaza.” You tease, looking into his icy blue eyes fighting off a sigh.

Flattery got him pretty far with you already.

“Hmm.” He hums, grabbing for the only thing in your cart, dark digits wrapping around the light pink handles but your clawed fingers pull it back into the cart. He lets go of the bag, puts the matching brown duffle in your cart too, you look up at him and replace the light creamy brown back onto the shelf. When you go to add the pink one back as well he puts it deeper into the cart and gives the handle a nudge so that you'll keep shopping. Reluctantly and with a sharp cutting glare, you start walking again and he follows.

“Shopping with your friends?” He looks around for a few of the guys he knows dates your girlfriends, doesn't see a single one. No lanky dark haired mop, no sunshine boy, and no scar face either.

“Hmm? No.” You wrap around to the next aisle, futally looking for that duffle in black, before you purse your lips in agitation, moving onto the next aisle that was now lined with hand bags and purses. Maybe a new one would take your mind off of the licorice duffle. It doesn't.

“By yourself then princess?” He watches you eye a mini tote, it's the same brand as the duffle and much larger tote on your pretty body now. You don't pick it up despite it being a dusty pink. Akaza reaches over you and nestles it into the cart, smiling down at you as he does.

“Yes. All by my lonesome.” You sigh dramatically before giggling, “Everyone is busy or out of town. I'll probably have dinner somewhere nice too.”

“By yourself?” He can't keep the growl out of his voice and you dangerously give him your back, looking at another bag.

“Most likely.” You leave it and when he tries to add it to the cart your flaring glower makes his lips pull up into a smirk.

“Lemme join ya for the day then, Princess.”

“No, ‘m fine.”

“I insist, don't like ya wandering around alone. Who knows who might find ya and try to bother you.” He teases, leaning in from behind to press a kiss to your throat, “I'll buy whatever ya want baby.”

“M a big girl. I can pay for my own things. Besides, how did you find me, Akaza?” You've gotta stop saying his name like that, he's gonna keep you forever if you don't. It doesn't help you turn to face him, stalking closer like a cat with easy prey. Until your chest is pressed to his and you're leaning up on tiptoes even in those platform flip flops to purr into his ear.

“So what's it on? Did you sew it into my purse? Is it underneath my car? Or did you download it onto my phone after you made sure to smear my pretty lipstick onto your sheets?”

You pull away before he can answer, innocent smile on your face as you blink up at him cutely, whine to your pretty voice, “But we'll be shopping all day, Kaza and I like to take my time!”

It takes him a moment to collect himself from the whiplash you give him. A smile slowly pulling up his lips as his tattooed fingers brush hair behind your ear.

“That's okay princess. I love taking my time with you, remember?” Letting his thumb come down to press gently on your throat before he lets go altogether, “But if you agree to me coming along just know that every outfit, every bag, every little thing ya look at a little too closely is gonna be in that cart and stay in that cart until we're ready to swipe my card.”

“Your card?” You curl your fingers through the loops of his black jeans, let your thumbs slide under his form fitting black wife beater that clings to his toned abdomen as you trace the hidden bands at his waist.

“My card princess. M not gonna argue about it.”

“Kay!” You lean up and kiss him between the thick twin bands on his throat, turning back and grabbing the cart to push along as you think of where that black bag could be. Maybe a sister store had it or maybe you should try online again.

Meanwhile Akaza smirks behind you as you allow him to be your scary guard dog, at least for the evening. And without a single effort to insist or remind him of your hyper independence he knows you have. He likes it, loves that you give into him even if it is just a little.

That you trust him to take care of you.

The afternoon moves along nicely. Akaza is always a man of his word, pulling out his card at the counter no matter how steep the price. He carries your bags to your car between each trip to every store while he holds your hand with his other until the final trip where he has you leaning against the drivers side door as the two of you agree on where to eat for dinner.

He leans down to kiss you, usually his parting is tender and yet intense leaving you giddy and dizzy until your next meeting but this time it is different. This time he cups your jaw and lets it move to your throat as his tongue slides into your mouth to lick the inside of your teeth, groaning as he does as if he's trying to taste all of you like it could be his last time. Starving that pretty head of yours of oxygen between his own searing kiss and the way he squeezes your throat before he finally lets go. Icy blue gaze boring into yours as he watches hearts form in your eyes before he presses his lips to your ear for a confession.

“I installed it on your phone.”

His mind flashes images of the exact moment his possession grew unstable, uncontrollable. Of you beneath him, fucked out and mewling his name, tenderly holding his hand while the other clawed his shoulders to shreds. Of you in his shower, giggling as you clung to him before he could fully step in, wetting his body with your suds before helping him wash. Of you lying next to him, giving such a cute smile before you reached out to caress his cheek with such a heavy sigh.

“Because the idea of any man seeing you the way I do makes me violent.”