#sometimes I wonder if he means something else. something more.

[carmyboobear]

hi tuna! i was wondering if you could write something where carmy and reader are at a house party and either one of them is sitting on the roof smoking a joint and the other finds them up and there joins them? thank u in advance <3

YES. I really loved this prompt... so here ya go!

word count: 1.4k

content tags: smoking, substance use, first meetings

Parties like this aren't usually your scene. 

It's not like you can't appreciate it as a bystander—you suppose there's an appeal to music so loud you can't hear your own thoughts. There are certainly some days where you want to lose yourself in a crowd, drunk and careless. Today is not one of those days. 

You can't quite remember how your friend convinced you to come to their party. It'll be fun, they promised, a nice change of pace. It is a nice change of pace, sure. It's different from sitting by yourself at home, but…

Now you're just sitting by yourself at someone else's home, smoking a joint on their porch. 

This is more your pace. You're relaxed into one of your friend's water stained outdoor chairs, feet propped up on a low table. This is about all you can handle today—slow drags of weed and the sound of summer bugs in the trees. The sound of the party lays muffled behind you, sealed by the porch door. 

The noise of the music and dancing inside becomes sharp for a moment as you hear the door opening. You look over your shoulder to see someone you don't recognize hastily stepping out. He seems frazzled, brushing back the brown waves in his face back with his hand. He also seems very…handsome.

“Sorry, didn't know anyone was out here,” is the first thing he says. He has a nice voice, low and smooth. And nervous, you notice. 

“It's cool. It's not like I own the porch.” You shrug, taking another inhale from your sizzling joint. You had hoped that your comment would loosen the tension that'd tied knots all in his face, but it doesn't. He just laughs breathlessly back, short and shaky. “Not a party person?”

“Not really.” He pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket. That's when you notice the tattoos on his hands, emblazoned across the backs and his knuckles. Pretty. “You?”

“Sometimes. But not today.” That works—you see him visibly relax, even if just a little bit. “My friend invited me—it's their party—but I, I don't know. I guess I thought I'd be up for it, but…” You shrug. “And now I'm here.”

“I see. I get that. Uh—” He pauses, taking a slow hit from his white cigarette. “My coworkers, um, they invited me. I didn't wanna be an asshole, so I came, but…” He sighs. “Yeah. Now I'm here.”

“Tough.” You nod at the empty seat next to you. “Seat's open, if you want it.”

“Thanks.” He takes the seat next to you. This is when you really take notice of his muscles, especially his biceps and pecs wrapped tightly in that white t-shirt of his. A burst of attraction rushes through you.

“Uh—” You should keep talking. Distract yourself from his, uh, everything. “Do you smoke?” He gives you a funny look, eyes glancing towards his cigarette. “Fuck, I mean, do you smoke weed? Sorry, I'm a little high.”

“It's cool.” He's actually smiling now. It's a nice smile. “Yeah, not often, but I do.”

“Well.” You extend your hand towards him, offering him the joint. “You can have some of this if you want. Might help you relax. No pressure, of course.”

“...Actually, yeah. That'd be nice. Thank you.” He takes the joint from you with his other hand. Now he's got a cigarette in one and a joint in another. You both share an amused, knowing look. “You smoke cigs?”

“Sometimes. Here, let's trade.” He hands you his cigarette. “Not that there's anything wrong with dual-wielding. Take one hit off the joint, and then off the cig…”

“Dual-wielding,” he repeats, laughing under his breath. You chuckle, entertained by the thought and his reaction. You don't mean to watch him as he brings the joint up to his lips and pulls, but you do anyway. You're not sure if him smoking a cigarette or a joint looks more attractive. 

“I feel like we should know each other's names now.” You know it sounds a bit forward, but the high's making you brave. You introduce yourself to him. “And your name is?”

“I'm Carmen.” Of course even his name is pretty. “Most people just call me Carmy, though.”

“Carmy.” You can't help your smile. “That's cute. Do you have a preference?”

“Uh—” He looks good with a little bit of pink on his cheeks. “Carmy's fine.”

“Okay, then. Carmy it is.” 

You two develop a rhythm. You trade the joint and cigarette back and forth, inhaling puffs of weed and tobacco back to back. Intimate is not quite the right word to describe it, but you're not sure if there's a better word for it. You definitely feel something of a connection pulling the both of you closer together. You even think that somehow, the space between your seats is shrinking too.

“I used to smoke more weed back in college,” Carmy says. The joint's almost finished by now, and with it, you both become a lot more loose-lipped. He's staring into the distance like he's remembering something. “You ever green out?”

“Oh yeah, plenty of times.” You laugh to yourself, shaking your head. “Back when I first started smoking—well, I started with edibles.”

“As does everyone.”

“Yeah, and it's stupid. It's way too easy to go overboard with edibles.”

“Seriously. I've only ever had edibles once, and. Well.”

“Ah…It was bad, I take it?”

“Yep.” He laughs quietly, and the infectious sound of it makes you smile. “It was awful. I even threw up.”

“Oh no,” you gasp. “That's how you know it's bad. I've managed to stop myself from throwing up, but I've definitely felt like I was dying a couple times.”

“Oh, of course. As it goes.” You both chuckle. “I thought my tolerance was high enough. It wasn't that many milligrams, but I guess my body hated it.”

“It happens.” The cigarette dies out in your hands, burned right down to the filter. You snub it out on the arm of your chair. “I used to enjoy edibles, but ever since I greened out real bad one time, I just can't do them anymore. They just wreck my shit.”

“Maybe that's for the best.” He puts out the joint too. “Just stick to regular lung damage like the rest of us.”

“Lessons learned, I guess.” You grin. A comfortable pause settles. “...Carmy?”

“Yeah?”

“We've smoked it all. Everything.”

“I have some more cigarettes if you want one.”

“No, no…” You lean forward, propping your elbows on your knees. He instinctively mirrors you, sitting up in his chair. “It's all gone.”

“Oh. Well.” He tilts his head to the side. “What should we do now?”

“We could sit here and suffer. Or…” You rest your chin in the palms of your hands, cradling your face. “I could roll us another joint back at my place.”

“Oh.” Looks like it clicked. His blue eyes are widened with surprise.

“You don't have to,” you say quickly, “really. But I've been having a good time with you, and I…I like you. I think you're cute.” Ordinarily, you wouldn't be this forward, but you swear you feel something here. “Sorry if this is—too much.”

“No, not at all,” he replies, just as quick. “Don't apologize. Please. I just—” He fumbles, making a vague hand gesture. “This has been really, really nice. You're so easy to talk to, and I, I'm not used to that.” He smiles at you, shy and adorable. You're momentarily gripped with something akin to cuteness aggression, but you keep it under wraps. “I…I like you. A lot. I'd love to go to your place.”

“Yeah?” He nods. “Okay. Cool. Um…” You feel your insides jumbling all over each other. “Sorry, now I'm getting all flustered.”

“It's okay.” His smile blossoms further, turning into something radiant. “I like it. You're cute.” You make a small noise at that.

“Smooth talker.” You stand up from your seat, and he looks up at you momentarily before following suit. “I'm just down the block. Up for a walk?”

You don't bother telling your friend you're leaving. The two of you chat and laugh all the way to your place, your voices echoing down the quiet road. Turns out your friend was right after all—the party turned out to be very, very fun. 

#carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #jeremy allen white #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x you #my blurbs #my asks #stoner carmy #i had so...much... fun.... i HAD SO MUCH FUN #thank you anon for giving me an excuse to write this. i really enjoyed it

[star4daisy]

so it's been two months since I've wrote anything and thought this might be a good way to get back into it heheh

may: 1 to 4 prompts: rose, dread, illusion, hopeless words: 731 @rosekillermicrofic

There were a lot of things Barty had been expecting to feel: happiness, excitement, anticipation, love. What he hadn’t predicted was the dread.

The anxiety that was taking over his entire body made him twitchy enough that the flight attendant asked if he was alright. He told her he was fine and asked for another glass of whiskey. In truth, Barty felt like he might throw up at any moment from the prospect of seeing Evan again after a year.

They had parted ways amicably and agreed to remain friends while they were unable to see each other, neither of them knew the amount of time Barty would need to stay away to solve the matters of his inheritance and to whom his father’s company would belong. He tried to do everything as fast as he could to be able to come back home. To Evan.

Nonetheless, it took Barty way longer than he would’ve desired to stay apart from him. Enough time for him to see Evan had gone on a date with someone else. Someone who kept popping up on his social media from time to time, more regularly than Barty liked. Hell, if it was up to him there wouldn't be someone else at all. It made him want to break his phone in half.

Sure, they had agreed they could go out with other people, but it didn’t mean Evan should have wanted to, even though Barty had been the one to suggest it. It had been more out of the idea that he couldn’t keep himself from fucking everything up due to not being able to have sex with other people.

Not because he wanted them, but because it was how Barty dealt with the hard things. It always was whiskey and sex for him. Sometimes coke too, but if he needed to work on serious business he couldn’t be going to the company after snorting. Well, he could. But considering the amount of times he had fucked up due to it while his father was still alive, Barty thought it would be for the best to keep it only on the weekends. 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t fucked anyone else all year. He was only human. But he also knew it was different for Evan, he couldn’t have sex with people he didn’t have feelings for. So for him to take that step it meant something completely different than it did for Barty.

To be hurt by it might’ve been hypocrisy on his part, but he had never cared to be a good person. All that had ever mattered to him was to have Evan by his side. Barty had failed utterly like he did with most things in his life, or so his father used to claim.

Barty’s first vision of him looked like a dream, he couldn’t help but wonder if Evan was a figment of his imagination, an illusion that he’d been seeing ever since they had parted. Except that this version in front of him looked nothing like the one he’d been imagining. That version looked exactly like how Evan looked the last time they’d seen each other at the airport, his white dreadlocks pulled out of his face on a high ponytail that made his features even sharper. 

Now his hair was shaved but still discoloured, Barty had never thought he could look better and yet, once again, Evan managed. It was only when he was standing in front of him that Barty noticed Evan had been holding something in his hand.

A white rose.

“My rose,” were the first words out of Barty’s mouth.

“I missed you,” Evan didn’t look nearly as unsure as Barty had felt when he extended his hand and offered him the flower.

Barty took it, allowing their hands to brush together, he felt it nicking his skin and blood pooling out of it as soon as he held it. There were remains of dried blood on Evan’s hand too, Barty wondered how long Evan had been standing there waiting for him holding the beautiful rose close to his chest while it tore his hands apart.

Evan hadn’t bothered taking the thorns out of it. He never did. Barty didn’t bother stopping the too-wide smile that wanted to tear its way out of his face.

Perhaps they weren’t as hopeless as he once had thought.

#might do a part 2 #who knows #rosekiller microfic #rosekiller #marauders #evan rosier #ao3 #fanfic #barty crouch jr #slytherin skittles #slytherin #rosekiller fanfiction #rosekiller fic #barty crouch jr x evan rosier #barty x evan #evan rosier x barty crouch jr #marauders fic #hp marauders #marauders era

[yuri-is-online]

I’d like to hear a little about Idia’s Yutu. I bet he was pretty startled to see his hair suddenly catch fire + any other physical changes associated with the curse. (Do you think the yellow eyes and shark teeth are even caused by the curse?)

Idia is a popular boy and I have a lot of thoughts about him in general; I feel like I gave him a lot to deal with in this particular au... Jade is probably having a worse time mentally but Idia has a bunch of work I know he wasn't asking for.

As for the talk about the curse, I kicked it around in my head a bit and I am going to say yes the teeth are caused by it but the eyes are just something Idia got from his parents. I know I talk about thinking there is something wrong with Trey, but I don't think that's because of a curse and his eyes are definitely yellow. Idia's do seem to glow a bit so if you want your Yutu to have different colored eyes I think it would make sense if they had a bit of a glow to them, but that's just me.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, for context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. For this post, I would recommend reading this explanation of what happened to the boys as Idia has a pretty big role in the bad timeline, and his actions will be somewhat referenced here.

Idia has the benefit and the literal curse of being in charge of S.T.Y.X., meaning that when blot investigations are conducted he tends to be in the know. His Yuu and Yutu should have been safe from anything the Marshall's decided to do but they weren't. Unlike pretty much everyone else in this AU, Idia learns what happened to his family. He knows that Yuu was cursed, he knows they were sent back to their world. But that's about it, he tries to find some sort of way to make contact with your world so he can bring you home but then things go to shit and his progress is severely delayed. By the time he has to help bury Leona it's stopped completely. Ortho tries his best to help, but Idia doesn't really want him to. As much as he wants to see you again, he doesn't want you to have to suffer through any overblots again, nor does he want to raise a child in a dying world.

Sometimes when he is alone, energy drinks scattered around his desk he'll look over to the little digital photo frame he loaded up with pictures of you, from back at NRC all the way up to your wedding and wonders if he should just let you go. There's a chance you being forced to forget about him means you would have moved on, maybe met someone else and had other kids. Was his kid anything like him? He hopes they ended up looking mostly like you, and knowing there is no way for the Shroud curse to reach them does make it slightly easier to sleep at night. He tells himself when he comes back to work tomorrow, he'll put the frame in a drawer along with his wedding ring but he never does. In his mind, he is still your husband, just waiting for fall to come so you can try to be together again. Fall might be another life, but Idia surprisingly doesn't mind. He can wait for you.

Idia! Yutu was a massive crybaby when he was a baby. Very clingy to Yuu and very afraid of his own shadow let alone his teachers and peers. He grows out of the crying as he gets older but not the social anxiety. Yutu wants friends, he just sucks at making them and is extremely stressed out by being around people. I could see Yuu maybe getting an animal of some sort to help with the stress and anxiety their son was feeling. And just by typing that I have become attached to the concept: Ida! Yutu gets a dog Yuu feels inclined to name Cerberus. Yutu adores her and takes very good care of her without any fights about his chores.

Yuu remembers Idia as being more of a cat person, but they tell Yutu they think he really would have approved of Cerb. They remember him as being a socially awkward, but extremely passionate about his work and hobbies. His love of retro games causes a lot of Yuu's cursed pains, they know he liked those sorts of games but they can't for the life of them remember the titles. Yutu tries to reassure his parent it's just nice knowing a little bit about his dad and that he doesn't need the specifics. Hearing about his dad's interests motivates him to learn about emulators as he gets older, and he builds Yuu a nice family computer after scrounging for parts.

Yutu prefers single player or local co-op games, but makes an exception if Yuu has a long term MMO or something like a genshin account because he does like playing with Yuu. It helps soothe his social anxiety to talk to people while he knows his parent and Cerberus are near by, but when they aren't online he's essentially a solo gamer.

Unfortunately for Yutu's potential inner gremlin, Yuu also remembers Idia's shut in tendencies and is determined to get him outside from a very young age. Cerb does her best to help with that too, it's Yutu's job to walk her and he swears she keeps trying to introduce him to people. He's had so many awkward conversations with the people in his neighborhood because of her. His other chore used to be helping out in the little vegetable garden Yuu started to help cut down grocery costs, but that quickly ceased being a chore and became a full blown passion.

Idia! Yutu loves flowers. He fills his windowsills with plants that are safe to be around dogs and has Cerberus help him dig a flower bed around your home so he can plant more of them. Sure the veg garden is nice too, but he loves the significance of and variety that can be found in flowers. If you live in a place that can keep bees then he will absolutely bug you about wanting to get some.

Twisted Wonderland looks horrible to Yutu. It's dark and cold, he's been snapped into a room full of people in a place he doesn't recognize, and his parent has gone non responsive as he tries desperately to shake them awake. He tries snapping at the fancy looking man that comes to help and accidentally bites his tongue, and that's when he notices it.

Mostly because Cerberus tackles him and tries to put him out.

"Owowowowowowowwww-" Yutu tries to push Cerberus back but she keeps whining and trying to lick at his face. She yelps as Yutu catches his breath as he sees what she's trying to paw at. His hair is on fire, or to be more accurate his hair is fire. He can hold it, he can tug at it, it's warm and is not burning his clothes but his hair is on fucking fire-

"STAY." The voice is so commanding that both Cerb and Yutu freeze, the strange man from before with his dual colored hair looks oddly nostalgic at his little command, eyes obviously softening at the dog as he shakes his head. "Good girl, no need to worry. Your little master is ok, he isn't going to combust." Cerberus whines, but she relaxes and Yutu stands shakily. "Though full warning you might feel like you are once I am done explaining things to you."

Idia and Ortho are called to NRC for an emergency and debriefed on their way over. Yuu holds on to life just long enough to speak with Idia a little, the first time Yutu meets his dad the two of them are saying goodbye to a now comatose Yuu. The silence is awkward, but the hold Idia has on Yutu isn't. I like to think that Idia and Yuu had talked about what they would have wanted to name Yutu, and that memory had carried across the world so there was no awkward introduction phase between the two of them. The sort of fall into each others lives immediately, the want for the other to exist overriding anything else.

Cerberus helps too. Idia might be more of a cat person but cute doggies are good too. ESPECIALLY one with such an awesome name, she's the most spoiled girl in the entire apocalypse. She's an old dog at this point, so Idia takes her back to S.T.Y.X. where she becomes a sort of unofficial mascot for the research teams. Idia makes her a uniform and everything. He regularly sends pictures to Yutu while he's busy at school.

Because of Yutu's love of gardening trumping his interest in technology, he ends up in Heartslabyul instead of Ignihyde. He is very embarrassed about this at first (he really hates the uniform) but Idia reassures him that he doesn't care about that. His kid could probably kill someone in front of him and he would not care, especially not at this point. So long as he is able to talk to his child about manga and games he doesn't care what extra circulars they're into. I can't see him being super excited about having to go to sports games, but then again maybe he would just think about it like a sports anime to help psych himself up to go (his kid would obviously be his favorite character).

Bad timeline Idia is a lot calmer than his younger self. He still loses his temper and goes on smug rants, but in general he speaks exactly like he does in book six to the S.T.Y.X. employees. His true personality only really comes out when he's alone with Ortho and Yutu, but he tries to keep his more pessimistic side in check. He wants Yutu to have some hope for the future, but the more he runs the numbers the bleaker things look.

Ortho is beyond excited to have his nephew back. He always liked hanging out with Yuu because of the lack of data he had about them. Every conversation he had with them was unique, and he was really looking forward to having the same experience with Yutu. He was just as if not more distraught than Idia when you both disappeared, so having Yutu back brings a bit more spark to his soul. Yutu was so stressed out from all of the changes he was experiencing that meeting Orhto felt weirdly normal. What's weirder: having an artificial humanoid for an uncle, technically being part alien, having fire for hair, or having a spell that literally opens the gates of hell. Yutu is not taking option one that's for sure.

Ortho and Idia are the ones who propose going back in time, but when it's their Yutu who is making the journey the suggestion is extremely difficult to make. Idia doesn't like the idea of asking his son to do this, it feels selfish. But then, Idia also feels like bringing him into existence before he could break the family curse was selfish, no matter what Yutu was always going to be doomed. But that just means he should be the one taking responsibility for this... Ortho volunteers himself for the mission but Yutu points out that that would probably be even more dangerous than sending him. It's a tearful goodbye, everyone knows that if the missions succeeds this timeline will cease to exist and they will never get to see each other again. They have a little party at NRC and Idia takes Yutu aside to visit Yuu's grave, firstly so they can say goodbye and secondly because he has a confession to make

"I was mega cringe when I was at NRC." His dad can't even look him in the eyes, and Yutu swears he sees him shaking. He has to blink a few times to make sure he is seeing things right, this doesn't look like overworked dad, or stressed dad, or angry at something mundane dad. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he was-

"Well isn't everybody?" The tips of Idia's hair turn pink at the question and Yutu's quickly mirrors him from feeling like he's done something wrong. All he's done is repeat his dad's own advice back to him though. "You're always so cool and confident-" Idia wheezes and Yutu almost has to catch him. "I mean I'm sure you can't be bad as me-"

"Oh you are going to regret saying that." His dad can't really bring himself to elaborate further but the thousand yard stare does all the talking for him.

Idia! Yutu was given three very simple instructions by Uncle Ortho about going back in time:

1) don't try to lie to me about who you are, I will run scans and figure it out. Grandma and Grandpa finding out would probably be bad and just complicate things. Easy enough, having Uncle Ortho on his side makes the transition between future and past a lot easier. Current Ortho might be a lot more innocent? Naive? He isn't sure if those are the words he would use, but he is certainly less used to having a soul and being his own person than his Uncle is. Not that this makes him any less accepting of Yutu... if anything he is even more excited about him than he was in the future.

2) try to keep who you are a secret from Yuu, but get close to them. We need them to stay alive, even if we don't know why yet... Less easy than hanging out with Uncle Ortho, but still easy enough. I tend to write all Yutus as not fully realizing how much they missed or loved Yuu until they got to see the younger version of their parent... but out of all of them Idia! Yutu is certainly up there for just how hard it hits him. Mostly because of Rule 3:

3) I am so fucking sorry for what you're going to have to deal with please be patient with me!!! I promise I love you and your parent so much I'm just not going to know-

So that obviously came from Idia and not Ortho, but Yutu really disregarded that warning until he accidentally ran into his dad while trying to find Ortho and saw him take out a tablet? That he used to talk with and got very panicky about when he asked a very simple question about it. Uncle Ortho helpfully tells him later that Idia uses it to help him speak in public because of his anxiety, and is very pleased to learn Yutu has never seen him use it in the future. But that doesn't really change how things are now...

On the one hand, Yutu gets it. He has bad social anxiety himself, but because he had a very supportive parent who worked with him to challenge himself in healthy ways he never got to the point that Idia is. He also was a lot older when he had his first experience with a traumatic loss and had Idia (who is a bit too experienced) and Ortho (who is just so understanding) there to help him through it. He knew that was not the case for his dad, they talked about it a lot in the future because Idia felt like he had a right to know, but I don't think he fully comprehended how bad Idia's mental health was.

Because no matter how much he might get it, this guy is still his dad and Yutu really wants to interact with him. He wants to impress him and maybe finally beat his high score on Star Rogue, Yutu just knows there are a bunch of stories he never got to hear because his dad was too embarrassed to tell him and this is maybe his one chance to find all of them out. But his dad is such a shut in he barely even interacts with Yuu! Yutu was always way too embarrassed to ask him about how they got together and now he swears he'll never know because him being in Ramshackle seems to have scared his dad off.

That's only half true, Idia doesn't really see Yutu as a romantic rival... like Cater he assumes you are related in some way because of the similar appearances and tastes in manga. Even when the two of you deny it he shrugs it off, hey maybe Yutu is just you from a different reality? He thinks he read a manga like that once... either way not his monkey not his circus. But like. It could be, Ortho really does like to remind him that Yuu is much less judgemental than everyone else on campus so if he wanted to make some progress on his journey of self improvement talking to them might not be such a bad idea. wink wink nudge nudge! But going over there still means he has to interact with someone other than Yuu and Mr. Grim and that's stressful.

He doesn't think about it at all when Yutu keeps finding excuses to not be there when Ortho drags him to visit because of how relieved he is to not have to socialize with him, at first anyway. He notices when Ortho excuses himself too, they certainly seem to be buddy buddy which isn't something he's going to complain about but as Idia does get closer to Yuu and *ugh* admits to himself he's got some feelings he starts to feel like he should at least know something about the kid other than his name. He does not completely figure it out, but he notices all of the relevant data points before he's slapped in the face with who Yutu is.

Like Lilia! Yutu's reveal, I think Idia finds out about who Yutu is in the middle of a fight. Yuu gets injured by a really strange blot phatom Idia has never seen before and Yutu absolutely looses it. His hair flares up and for snaps his hood to cinders as he's roaring out spells and trying desperately to make sure that thing doesn't touch his parents. Something you both hear loud and clear.

At first this makes Idia beyond excited. He probably joins the little fit his son is throwing except in raw joy because he's fantasized so much about this! He even has a little sims save where Yuu and him are married and they've got a kid and a cat and wow just look at Yutu he looks even cooler in real life than he does in a life sim! Yuu look at him, you guys have a-

A kid. You have a kid. With him. One that's got his teeth and hair and your nose and is sobbing in his arms about how much he missed you both and doesn't want to watch you die again. The sheer worry eclipses his second hand embarrassment at his own smugness as he awkwardly holds on to the sobbing Yutu and looks towards you for help. He's never been good at this whole emotional comfort thing, pls assist. So you pick yourself up and join the group hug and all three of you just sort of sit there for a bit while Yutu tells his story. About growing up in your world, how he came to NRC and his friends in Heartslabyul (Idia is blaming that on you, as a joke ofc he doesn't care what house his kid is in), and the plan to go back in time because of how hopeless the future is. It's not a story Idia takes lightly, especially when Ortho confirms it and sends him all of the data he and Yutu have collected so far. Idia is a bit gloomy and prone to complaining, but if you are in a bad place there are few people more reliable. He is a lot like death in a way, he'll always be there in the end.

Idia is a bit awkward around Yuu for a bit after the reveal, I like to think of you as being newly together at this point so Idia hasn't really revealed just how... detailed some of his fantasies about you are just yet. There are a lot of them, he has uh. Maybe written some of them down, pleasedon'tmakehimreadthemoutloud and most of them are perfectly normal and respectable (lies). It stops when you tell him Yutu had to come from somewhere and he dies, buries himself under his covers, and rises again a changed man. Yeah that's right, his kid did come from somewhere NORMIES. He had se-

He's not super big into PDA but he is comfortable being clingy around Yutu and Ortho, though he tries not to be overly cheesy around Yutu. He hates seeing his parents be all lovey dovey with one another and he likes to keep his compliments quiet and for your ears only anyway. I do like the idea of Yuu being a tiny bit more outgoing and embarrassing him a bit around "the kids" (Grim and Yutu) so his hair is in a damn near permanent shade of pink any time he's around Ramshackle. It's one thing to have your younger brother think the world of you, but to have a kid think so highly of you that he travels back in time to save you from an apocalypse? Idia feels super unworthy, it fuels his determination to work out the "problem" Yutu has given him even if his natural pessimism makes him want to give up.

"... Just leave it to your dad." It's an echo of the only other promise he 100% intends to live up to. He really does mean it, Idia is not loosing this match. Just you wait and see...

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #future kid au #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud x yuu #??? i hit a text limit on this??? #girl what? #tumblr is shitting itself anyway sorry if the ending is abrupt #that's why

[aziraphales-library]

Hii im looking for fic that looks at Crowley/aziraphale from an outside perspective for example the other whickber street traders being confused about where Aziraphale has gone and asking Crowley or other civilians noticing aziraphale and Crowley in general. Not looking for a particular fanfiction.

I do love a good #outsider POV fic...

Eavesdropping by IneffableDoll (G)

A patron of the pub overhears a bewildering conversation between a grey suit (Gabriel) and a beige suit (Aziraphale) in which their adoring descriptions of their respective goth partners are extremely…concerning.

The Mystery of the Missing Mr. Fell by treatsnsweets (G)

"Aren't you investigating? Keep the rant about the confusing relationship with Sunglasses in a separate thing." Phyllis spoke out loud, reading the notebook. "Hey! I'm not done with that yet. It's still my first draft and I needed more evidence." Trixie huffed as they grabbed her notebook back. Or Two teens decided to investigate why "Mr. Fell" has disappeared after the events of season 2.

Sanctuary by Scheissemann (M)

Days were hard for the shopkeepers on Whickber Street, Crowley was drinking, and Mrs. Sandwich just wanted to have a cigarette undisturbed.

What You've Lost But Never Had by BlackUnicorn (NR)

Mr. Fell, for that was all everyone knew to call him, was a peculiar man. He owned the bookshop next to Frank's record shop – A. Z. Fell & Co. it was called – and it had been there for as long as anyone could remember. Why, if Frank's mother, may she rest in peace, was to be believed, the Mr. Fell who had been around when she'd opened her own establishment was the very same that was still around now, over 70 years ago. That couldn't possibly be true, of course, and yet sometimes Frank wondered. He remembered Mr. Fell, of course, from his own childhood, his own youth, the kind man living next door, a little reclusive, perhaps, but always willing to offer a cup of tea and some nice biscuits to anyone in need of a cheer-up. 

A Table For One by WaitingToBeBroken (T)

There is a couple that has been coming to Justine's restaurant every third Wednesday of the month for more than a decade. Now, they are suddenly gone. Justine decides to ask around the neighbourhood about them. Everyone has a different theory.

amaranthus cruentus by jilliancares (G)

“It’s not my plant.” “Okay,” says Nina. “I mean, it wasn’t my plant. It was given to me. I didn’t pick it out.” “Right.” “I don’t even like flowers,” Crowley continues. “I like leafy plants. Leafy plants make sense.”

Or: Crowley and Aziraphale navigating their break-up, through the eyes of everyone else. Or: 5 times Crowley and Aziraphale deal with their heartbreak, plus 1 time they actually do something about it.

All of This is Completely Normal Here by TogetherAgain (G)

The events of an entirely ordinary day for one particular police station in London towards the beginning of summer in 2019. ~ ~ ~ Lonnie Clarke was talking to a lunatic. To be fair, that wasn’t really unusual. It was a standard part of police work. This particular lunatic was a special sort of insane, though. Crazy like a fox, this Mr. Fell. Or, just absurdly lucky. Clarke was just finishing up with him — confirming his contact information, thanking him for his time, and so on — when an entirely different and more familiar lunatic came swaggering in with their hands cuffed in front of them. “OI! Who sent a rookie to pick me up all by herself? That’s hazing, ‘s what that is. Thought you lot were above all that.” Ladies and gentlemen, A.J. Crowley was in the building.

the best of the world in the palm of our hands by middyblue (T)

Crowley seems to be going through a bad breakup and Maggie just wants to help. Apparently, the world is also ending.

- Mod D

#good omens #good omens s2 #ineffable husbands #outsider pov #mod d

[tin-can-iron-man]

Me: I'm going to go to bed at a reasonable time

Me: *has one (1) passing thought about Victor Von fucking Doom*

Me: when did it become 1am

#this man fucks me up so hard #just thinking about inescapable narratives w/ blorbo again don't mind me #it's just. it hurts that he can't be anything BUT dr doom so long as the FF are together. that they or that Reed NEEDS him as an antithesis #as a foil #that he never even got the chance to TRY #I don't know why it makes my heart so tight to think about him bound by the universe in this way. by the narrative. #Victor has to be a great villain in order for the FF to be great heroes and *that hurts* #imagine your entire existence is dedicated to your failings #imagine your entire existence is dedicated to your failings to your enemies. to put the people you despise most in the world on a pedestal #imagine being defined by your faults. imagine being defined by your faults so hard your foil pities you for decades #would you not feel anger? would you not rage against the world? would you not wish to wring That Goddamn Look out of his eyes? #imagine you know your place in the narrative. imagine you know your place in the narrative is to be hated #to be despised. to be mocked. to be defeated. #imagine you know your place in the narrative. the intrinsic horror. imagine you know your place in the narrative. imagine. #victor von doom #doctor doom #it's late and I'm sad #and sometimes I wonder #when Victor blames Reed. when he says ''you did this to me (and I will never forgive you)'' if he REALLY means the dormroom experiment #sometimes I wonder if he means something else. something more. #their fates are inherently bound. like it or not. romantic or not. they are soulmates by definition. #how tragic. how infuriating. how terrifying.

[kicktwine]

oh so alisaie’s exaggerated bully behavior is 80% fanon. saying this she casually picks up a large rock

#say one thing wrong to me and you will have a wonderful few days with the rock #if angry silly girls have 100 fans etc if they have 0 fans i have died #sorry i saw a YouTube meme i vehemently disliked on principle and got mad at the only child behavior- #kipspeak #she is just short tempered and uses anger to mask other more ‘shameful’ emotions!!! alphy did the same thing with just deciding not #to express them. which is still not good and I think why he breaks and ends up teary so often now #this shortness does not translate to actually being mean to people. she only uses being mean as a shield for herself and being snarky #Is just fun for her. it’s fun for Me. you have to inconsequentually tease people or they’ll never learn to laugh at themselves #the twins and thancred 🫵 do this thing where they have big emotions but they don’t want anyone to SEE they have big weird emotions #so alphy pretends he doesn’t have them under a veneer of dignity and alisaie pretends the emotions are Something Else. thancred is #just so emotionally constipated he has trouble expressing anything. he’s got enough baggage for a flatbed #anyways. alisaie is such a compassionate and kind girl and she learned how to make snarky jokes and went ham. and she hates appearing sad o #weak or vulnerable so she blocks it off with an unapproachable emotion so no one pities her and they maybe get on with the plot #it is in fact also great at getting ppl to move away from the sad or embarrassing topic. even if the tradeoff is being more offputting #she would never (grabs youtube meme) she would never seriously bully her brother. this is sibling ribbing only. Cain instinct #just leave her be she is learning how to snark humor and she loves it she loves being sharp. alphy has wit he just keeps it close #my brother didn’t learn how to tell or receive a joke until he was 14 he took everything so seriously. he can do it now though and he’s #HILARIOUS. Don’t tell him I said that. my man knows exactly where the funny points are even if he hasn’t learned when to stop yet #too many tags. Whatever. jokey snark alisaie who sometimes compliments is happy alisaie grouchy snappy angry alisaie is way too stressed #very easy way to tell between the two. even alphy can tell between the two I believe! He tends to rib back in protest if they’re having fun #and try to stop her if they’re not having fun. case in point ‘what is that supposed to mean?!’ vs ‘alisaie ryne was only trying to help.’ #I know they’re twins but that’s such an intensely older sibling thing to do that it reels me #LONG TAGS AND THREE EDITS TO ADD ON SHORT I resent this stereotype taken too far into ooc behavior. it happened with nya #It will happen again and as a postscript let me regale you with Things U Can Notice About Character Motivation and Actions— #I’m not done let me s #she and raha are friends now I decree. ‘haha you like me’ SPUTTERING PROTEST FROM BOTH

[evansbby]

.

#I hate my dad so much #he just said the most calculatedly mean thing he could possibly say to me #it’s like he paused and thought about what would hurt me and then said it #is everyone’s dad an emotionally abusive piece of shit or is it just me #and I hate the way he treats my mom #and she’s just supposed to take it and if she even says anything to defend herself #he acts like the biggest man child and throws a tantrum #everyone in this house just walks on eggshells around him #do men just never grow up???? #he’s just been so nasty towards me lately #like I just can’t wrap my head around it #like he’s been emotionally abusive for years but that’s nothing new #me and my siblings have long ago learnt to laugh and brush it off and make a joke out of it #but what he did today was so mean #I was more astonished #like imagine your own father saying something so nasty to you #I wonder if he knows that he’s alienated all of his children #and sometimes I feel so bad for him #does anyone else have this cycle of hating their dad then also feeling sorry for him??? #bc I know he works so hard and I know he loves us and has done a lot for us #I know that!!! #but does that excuse his behaviour??? #are we all meant to just firm it and shrug it off and just let him do and say whatever??? #usually I always stand up to him and yell at him and tell him to his face whatever I have to say #but lately it’s like… what’s the point? it’s like talking to a brick wall #I will say that he does apologise to me sometimes #but what’s the point of an apology if you keep doing it again and again #and how can you say something so nasty to your own daughter #with the INTENT to make me feel bad and insecure??? #I already have this thing that everyone hates me and he fed into that and said something he knew would hurt me

[yuridovewing]

phone died so i couldn't post, but im gonna be like au speculating as i go through these and i want a good amount of them to be Somewhat rooted in canon? and man i gotta figure out whats just the erins being bad at establishing genuine connections between characters and a character genuinely being distant.

anyways is it just me or does bramblestar feel very distant from his children here

#he has a nice talk with alderpaw when he fails to catch anything on day 1 but he feels weirdly emotionless towards them? #i mean im a ''bramble is a bad dad to both litters'' truther but im wondering how much is like intentional #or me just looking too much into things #actually i wont take too many piss shots at the fandom here (too many) #but this person sucks so ill do it real quick. i actually think dr********r's au where brambles a bad dad to alder #is interesting in concept. like hes ashamed of his kid for not being a great hunter so he shoves him in the medicine den #and later into another clan #buuuuuut tbh i dont really like the way they went about it? like bramble berating alder in the den doesnt feel right #bramble is more the passive aggressive type i feel. at least in my au he is #sometimes more aggressive than passive but thats his main form of being towards his family #like. he doesnt physically abuse squilf. but he DOES berate and isolate her #and idk to his kids i guess him being verbally abusive would work for his character? but it doesnt feel right to me #i think if i had to go at that au itd be more like. bramble keeps negging his kid. getting at his skin #not talking to him in public even when alder calls out his name. downplaying his achievements #''oh. you finally caught a mouse. ok. thats good progress i suppose. keep at it'' #idk subtle stuff like that that eats at alder's insecurities over and over and over until he snaps #and THATS when bramble snaps at him. then he pins the blame on alder for snapping first #and then he goes on about how alder is embarassing him and needs to ''go do something else'' #and alder chooses to be a medicine cat on his own but its bc hes been worn down and is ashamed of his skills #rather than him being shoved in the den bc ngl i really dislike the idea that being a doctor is ass #and you go be a doctor when youre a failure at everything #if i had to do it id have alder deciding be one bc he feels like hes horrible at what his dad does #and maybe actually i wouldnt keep him as a medicine cat. idk why i dont like him being one but i dont. maybe ill see why later #but he decides its not for him and goes back to being a warrior without his dad breathing down his neck. #wait i was talking abt the shadowclan au. or he goes to shadowclan instead yippee #avos liveread

[randomnameless]

Speaking of lolcalisation issues, you know some of the Monsters in echoes are referred to as Kami, Kaga also referred to the spirits that power tomes as Kami, and it all takes from Shinto-ism. Basically beings like Naga and Rhea aren't viewed as supreme beings in the Japanese version. Kami includes tons of minor things we consider very non godly.

This is what I meant when I said FE15 retconned Gaiden, in Gaiden, Duma and Mila were not dragons.

Were they Gods like "Yudu" from Jugdral ? I don't know, and we might never know, but afaik, they weren't dragons like Naga, Bantu and co.

Now, about FE16...

Sothis is supposed to have created worlds, and Sothis can create on her own "life" (who was Tiki's dad?). Sothis creating worlds and sentient beings would put her, imo, on par with Tellius's Ashunera in the "God" scale.

What are Nabateans then? Rhea says many times that Nabateans cannot match Sothis in power or in miracles, could they be seen as lesser beings/spirits compared to Sothis? If Sothis is the "supreme being", then the Nabateans are obviously lesser but sill more "godly" than random humans? Idk.

So while Fodlan, in general, sent more mixed signals about the existence of a Supreme Being/God in Sothis (like Tellius), Billy's class and journey to reach "enlightment" and to guide people, the nods to Avicii and the three poisons - basically what friends already wrote about all the buddhist influences - fell back in a traditional JRPG setting mirroring the "born shinto marry christian die buddhist" paradox.

Of course to ask the team who lolcalised FE16 to bring those concepts to an audience that, per them, loves earl grey, was to ask an squirrel to jump to the moon. But from what you're saying it's not something exclusive to FE16 and it's more of an issue in general with some lolcalisations...

#anon #replies #lolcalisation woes #i mean not a real woe but sometimes going to the imo easy way #using a preexisting concept that is pretty different in meaning and essence to the one you cannot translate #ngl I wonder what some lolcalisations would have done to DBZ if it was released now #if FR Kami was called 'le tout puissant' which is more or less what we also call god during some prayers or soemthing? #je sais pas je vais pas à la messe #but then Kaio the blue cockroach wasn't called God's superior or something #he's just Kaio #and even if a few bubbles explained the hierarchy it was up to the frenc h reader to understand that #'le tout puissant' isn't God like what the real life church is talking about #but something else from a manga #and maybe if that french reader was really dedicated he could later learn that kamis and gods and divine are differnt in other countries #and cultures #tldr : tfw ethnocentrism ruins everything

[jyuanka]

"his lips tasted like ice and sin"

#so ive been reading this mega popular super long fic for a fandom i dont care about for a ship i dont care about (a procrastination method) #anyway ive read too much of it and felt obligated to keep going but i disliked it more with each chapter #coming at it from an emotional distance helped make it something of a mental writing exercise: pull it apart see why and how it works #my envious little writer heart just wants to know (i mean the stats on this bitch were rising in real time) #but i come upon the above sentence and i let out the ugliest laugh #i stop reading the fic just to process the silliness of what i just read #cue later i reopen the tab and my eyes instantly land on that sentence #suffice to say today i am free of that fic #its on me i shouldve stopped reading when the love interest was described as a 'fallen angel of death' #and its like the writer instantly realized what she's done so the next paragraph immediately starts with 'it was a cliche' #yeah girl it is #(love it when an author leaves their mental self-negotiations over a writing choice right there in the published text) #my decision to stop reading even tho im past the halfway point means i no longer have to read about eyebrows 'quirking inquisitively' #altho sometimes the eyebrow quirks questioningly; often curiously; one time it quirked disapprovingly; but its always quirking & so are lip #and people 'roll their jaws' (no i dont know what that means) #its a fanfic so im fine if the love interest smells like 'oakmoss and papyrus' (sillier scents have been sniffed on love interests) #but if you tell me he smells that way more than 7 times in the span of a few chapters i start having objections #given how many times it was mentioned i started wondering if its plot relevant (its not) #i have so many more thoughts but i like writing in the tags because its the tumblr equivalent of muttering out loud to myself #you might ask 'jyu why are you shredding someone else's work' the answer can be found in the words of contemporary philosopher lil nas x: #'i wanna fuck the ones i envy'

[angelhound]

.

#have been writing lately instead of painting and idk…. how i feel about that #never have i considered myself a writer #i mean i write bad romantic poetry sure. but im writing fiction. novels if u will. and i Like it. :/ #its uncomfortable. idk. maybe if i make companion paintings itll feel less obscure. perhaps a web comic will come out of it #ive never been into structured writing ever ever. but it felt… salty. like sweat drying on your skin. gratifying. to finish a whole piece. #it was a fit of mania perhaps. and i have more still bubbling there is much to create. i just have never created in this format before #hate it almost. digging my heels but its pointless to resist where the water knows to go you know? i cannot feel this way about painting #if that is not what is meant to be made at this time. the wild horse of inspiration will not bend to my comfort #yes i know i am an artist in the worst way. yes im aware of how i sound. i am not proud but i suppose i cannot either be ashamed #if i cannot be another way #idk i always wanted to be an airhead lol. before anyways. my grandfather does not understand his gift is as enviable as my own #hes not an airhead you could not imagine so after listening to him. but he is enigmatic in that way. #socialized better maybe. the gift of living as you imagine because you are not imagining at all #i never wanted to be reclusive. driven by fits of madness. but i dont have another way known to me #the life i imagine is lived by those who are not imagining it #but idk i think less nowadays. it helps to figure myself an unsocialized dog. something to be solved by careful hands #ugh. god with how i talk sometimes i wonder how it surprises me to become a pos writer. who else talks like that #anyways im incredibly ill still lol going to again attempt to shower the virus out of me

[radiantmists]

wonder woman should get to kiss girls

#/girls should get to kiss wonder woman #dc #wonder woman #the other day i watched the 'maid of honor' episodes of the jla cartoon #and then ww84 today #i mean the first movie basically confirmed that she was bi right?? #and both those women were clearly into her #and im pretty sure that at least jla diana returned the feeling #and like. normally i am not a proponent of the getting over grief plot ending with someone finding something else #but ww84 ended with the weird eye contact and smileyness with that guy anyway #and like. the whole thing about wishing for other things and losing what you have... #diana and barbara wished for other things and lost the others' friendship/affection #like. the whole exchange where steve says he's an old friend and barbara blurts that she's a new friend? #wouldn't it have been thematic for them to regain that? #look i just think that her stories make so much more sense if sometimes she's into a woman

[t4tdanvis]

so ur telling me a gay coded this guy?

#❄.txt #on the topic of mcd vylad #i like to this that he talks like how danny gonzalez does sometimes #he'll out of nowhere say some shit like 'some fair-weather citizens you have' #why does he talk like this? who knows #no one else talks like this. why is he Like That (its because hes gay /j) #anyways. im really thinking super hard about this one fanfic idea i have :) #gene is in the dungeon getting tortured every day and vylad keeps sneaking in through a window to talk to him #he refuses to set gene free. he just talks to him #'i could tell the guards youre here and theyd kill you right now' 'do you think theyd believe you?' '...' 'thats what i thought' #i say 'talk' but really they just kind of say a couple words and then stare at each other for like an hour and then vylad leaves #gene finds vylads daily visits comforting #i mean when ur getting tortured every day u have to have something (or someone) to cling onto like ur an orphaned duckling #for the first week or two gene barely talks. vylad talks to him a bit while gene just glares at him #gene is more focused on being pissy about vylad not freeing him. which there is no way in hell (haha) vylad would do that #vylad just kinda talks to him about random stuff. what its like in the overworld. about things that are going on in his life #gene listens to him since. well. its not like he has anything else to do. hes chained to a wall and cant even walk around #what is vylads plan here u may be wondering. well. he is 100% convinced that he can fix gene #he doesnt tell gene that at all. he makes it very very clear that he has no intention of freeing gene and no amount of persuasion will #change that and if gene tries ANYTHING then vylad will leave and never return #however. gene doesnt know that vylad is intent on making him into a better person #i have so many ideas for this AUGH i love this idea so so much #vylad comforting gene just by being a familiar presence when gene is exhausted and is just so fucking done with everything #gene starts responding eventually. it just takes him a while to stop being petty about vylad not letting him go #eventually hes like. ok fine. ig thats understandable. i HAVE killed many many people. ig it makes sense why u dont wanna let me go #i have more but. im going to stop now and let the 2 people that will read this process it all

[supercutszns]

rotten to the touch; luke castellan

series masterlist

wc: 3.2k

pairing: pre-tlt luke castellan x f! reader

synopsis: you’re pretty sure you’re an awful person. you’re pretty sure luke castellan is too. and you’re pretty sure you want to make out with him.

warnings: reader is flawed & not the greatest, luke is ... a little dark🫣, small mention of blood, swearing, lots of making out but no explicit nsfw, a bit toxic, & no more more ‘i can fix him’ or ‘i can make him worse’ it’s ‘he can make ME worse’

notes: this is… sluttier than my usual stuff so it’s not as good but i’m trying, feedback is appreciated! also i wonder what cabin we think this reader would be in, let me know where you’d place her im curious :) maybe i’ll write more of her in the future she’s interesting!! and thank you for 100 followers i am so grateful<3 designated song for this fic is crush by ethel cain

You are a miserable, wicked, asshole of a person, and everybody knows it. Including you.

It’s unclear to you why you turned out this way—every reason to blame never satiates the fury searing your insides. All the campers hate you. The counsellors, too. Even Chiron looks down on the viciousness inside you. You are Camp Half-Blood’s black sheep; a mean, bitter person with no love for the people around you. And it’s not just for show. You know you’re rotten. You know the anger will never go away.

It’s evident in the things you think about other people—the way you pick them apart in your head, toss them aside, because they just don’t see it. This miserable, unforgiving world, with children sleeping on wooden floors because the people who created you think you disposable. Because they can just make more of you. More, more, more, until one of you comes out rotten, born of all the ugliness they have inside them. You are the worst parts of Godly blood. The wrathful parts.

Everyone hates you. Everyone hates a person with an unquenchable anger.

But everyone loves Luke Castellan.

He’s a saint at Camp Half-Blood if there ever was one. Handsome, generous, kind. Goes out of his way to help out the new kids and gives them homes in his cabin. He’s the best swordsman in camp by a mile. Shit, you’d even love Luke Castellan if you didn’t know any better.

But you do, and you don’t, and it’s complicated, okay?

Because there’s something you know about Luke Castellan that nobody else does: he’s miserable and wicked, too.

You see it in his eyes sometimes. The way they look at you at dinner, when you’re picking at your food away from anyone else at your table. Something familiar rises in them, and your stomach twists. His body tenses whenever someone mentions his father, but the smiles he flashes are so charismatic nobody notices. But you do. It’s exciting.

During sword practice, he quips back and forth with the kids and laughs whenever they take a jab at him. He’s light, easy, carefree. But you see how he holds back, the tension in his shoulder, the way the arc of his sword never fully finishes. So you wait until everybody leaves and he’s alone, with the training dummies and the setting sun. And you. Hiding.

He slashes through them and spears through their heads. You see it, the gnashing of his teeth, the sweat curling down his cheeks. There’s something there. A chasm he’s hopeless to fill.

Before you know it, you’re going out of your way to catch him training alone. It’s creepy, you know, and awful, you know, but the more you watch him the more you see a sort of violence scabbed under his skin.

Whenever you see him now, the feeling you get is entirely foreign to you. It’s almost . . . longing.

Wherever she is, you’re pretty sure Aphrodite’s having a cosmic fucking laugh. And you’re sure she’s laughing double tonight.

The Aphrodite cabin is hosting some secret party for the older counsellors. You’re definitely of age to be a counsellor, but you’ve never been made one because that would probably make half the campers drop out. Chiron and Mr. D don’t know what to do with you. You’re sure you’ll be kicked out of camp soon for good.

But you’re here anyways, for a reason you don’t want to admit, and you stay tucked in a corner as the world around you mingles. Luke is on the other side of the room, lovely as always, laughing with a few other counsellors. He brings a drink up to his lips, and you have a startling thought of what it would be like to kiss him. And you’re fucked. You’re so fucked. Because for the first time in your life you want something tangible, something real. You want to hear him and feel him and pry him apart, and a part of you wants him to actually see you, see all the awful things that might make you the same. You feel like a teenage girl with a crush, and it is infuriating.

An Aphrodite girl comes up to you with a foolish smile. “Hey, sorry, you want a drink?”

“Fuck off, you idiot,” you snarl.

You wait for her to leave. She doesn’t. “You know, you don’t have to be so mean all the time,” she says evenly. “If you’re here, you might as well enjoy it. So yes, I want to give you a drink.”

“Have you ever thought that I’m not being mean? Maybe I just am.”

You glare at her. She looks you up and down. “Sure,” she shrugs, walking away. There’s a vivid picture in your mind of her falling through a hole in the cabin floor. It doesn’t soothe you, but at least the fantasy is there.

The night drones on. You’re sick of the smells and the laughs and the heat. And you’re sick of yourself. You can’t believe, underneath all your sourness, you came here to stare at a boy you barely know, and you don’t even know why. He’s fascinating, and you resent him, and he’s also beautiful. But he’s looked back at you all of three times tonight and you’re sick of the way your skin crawls when he does.

Leaving the cabin brings the relief of the cool night air, and the singularity of your body. You are the only one who feels this rage. You are the only one who hates.

To stave off your discomfort you walk around to the back of the cabin, to the crest of the hill facing the water. The stars above twinkle at you in spite. There’s a bitterness in your throat you want to wash down with something worse (maybe you should have taken that drink), but you know it won’t matter. Nothing matters. Those stars and whatever they hide are apparently the only important things in the universe, so why should anyone care about anything?

They stars only get brighter. It’s probably their goal to piss you off. You grunt, “Oh, fuck you,” to them. It’s not enough, never nearly enough to expel the rotten part of you. “Fuck you. Fuck off!” You groan at the sky. Nothing happens. Until:

“I’m guessing you’re not having a fun night.”

You whirl around. It’s hard to see in the dark, but whatever light is left catches a long scar on a cheek. Your stomach knots.

“Yeah, me neither,” Luke Castellan says, hands in his pockets as he meanders towards you.

Even when he’s close enough, you don’t say anything. If you do, you’re afraid it’ll be something ugly. Like I kind of want to make out with you. Are you awful too? I need a lobotomy.

The thoughts almost make you laugh. Been a long time since you’ve been funny.

He nods at the sky. “Those things don’t talk. You do know that, right?” He’s still so captivating, so self-assured, even when there’s no one around but you.

“Gods, you’re the worst,” you scoff. You really mean it, so you can’t look him in the eye.

“Then why have you been staring at me all night?”

It catches you so off-guard that you whip back to face him. He has an eyebrow raised and the itch of a smile that makes you burn with shame. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He shrugs, leaning against the cabin wall. “I’m not stupid. You’ve been brooding in the corner watching me the second you came in.” He cocks his head to the side, adding, “Actually, you stare at me all the time. At meals and stuff. I really hope you don’t think you’re being subtle.”

You huff. “Okay, if we’re really being honest here, you started that! You do it too! All the time!”

His hands shot up like he was being arrested. “Hey, I never said I minded it. A guy’s . . . just gotta wonder. What’s up with you spying on me when I’m training alone, anyways?”

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

“You watch me when there’s nobody else around. I’m not blind. It’s weird. If you want tips you can just ask me. Or if you like what you’re looking at, at least be upfront about it.”

You speak before you can take in that last sentence, or the way his smile took pride in itself when he said it, or how embarrassed you should probably feel. “You didn’t answer my question about why you started staring at me first.”

The anger (shame) blinding you made you forget how close you are to him right now. Close enough to touch, but not enough to see. But almost there. Almost.

“People think you’re mean,” Luke says after a moment, his dark eyes probing you. The words curl out of his mouth slowly, like he’s choosing them all with care. “You’re rude. You never listen to anyone. You judge everything. They all think you’re awful.” Again, he looks you over. “I’m not so sure.”

“If I’m awful, then you’re awful,” you spit before he can say anything else.

He just shrugs. “Well, I guess that’s why I’m not sure.”

It’s irritating, his calmness. He has the same anger you do. How come he can just . . . shove it down? You try to unearth any fury in his eyes, but it’s too far back. Simmering. “Jesus,” you mutter, “You’re worse than me.”

He looks genuinely taken aback by this. His scar deepens when his brows wrinkle. “What?”

“You’re a pretender—that’s what you are.” It’s your turn now, to step closer, to make his skin crawl. “Look at you. Everyone loves you. You’re this perfect golden boy and you’re sweet and attentive and whatever the fuck but you know it’s one giant lie. At least I’m honest, but you just sit pretty and act like you don’t have that . . . thing that I have. Resentment. Insanity. Whatever you want to call it. We’re the same, but I’m the only one getting shit for it.”

Now, you are close enough to really see him. The patterns on the wood behind him frame the vision of his ever-shifting face. You realize that this, like most things are to Luke Castellan, is a challenge. You also can’t remember the last time you saw him lose one.

But when you play, you play to win.

“You don’t know that,” he dares.

“Oh, I do. You’re rotten, Castellan,” you sneer, index finger jabbed into his chest. You can feel his heartbeat if you concentrate. “And you’re not owning up to it, so you’re also a coward.”

However scathing you look, it isn’t enough. If anything it only makes Luke’s manner more playful. Nothing feels playful anymore. Everything, inside and outside of your mind, feels like constant, exhausting war. Maybe that’s why you don’t slap his hand off you when it wraps around your wrist, keeping it pressed to the middle of his chest. His heartbeat thrums through you.

He tilts his face towards you, grinning, “Then why do you want to kiss me?”

All right. What the fuck. It feels like you’ve been electrocuted.

“What the—what are you talking about?” You blunder, but he knows, of course he knows, because there’s something between the two of you that has been formed and understood by eye contact alone. He can probably read your mind. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you’d like to read his just as much.

He cocks his head. “I mean, you did call me pretty,” he teases, and it’s almost endearing. “You’re pretty like this too.” His other hand comes up to your face, and you’re surprised you don’t flinch when his thumb gently smooths the crease in your eyebrows. “Don’t call me a coward, heathen. Then we’ll both be embarrassed.”

The nickname makes you want to fight, but the touch makes you dizzy. “You don’t want to kiss me, Luke,” you say with all the control you have, which, right now, is increasingly sparse.

“You’ve gotta stop telling people what they want,” he muses. The hand on your wrist traces further down your forearm. The one on your face snakes around your hips. “One of your more disagreeable qualities.”

His words fan over you. That fire simmering in his eyes has finally come to the surface.

“One of?” You challenge.

“You let me make out with you and I’ll give you a whole list.”

You snort, hoping it hides the shortness in your breath. “What a charmer you are.”

His lips brush yours. “Well, that’s what makes me so rotten, isn’t it?”

There’s hardly time to unravel if that’s a question or a statement because you grab a fistful of his shirt and he kisses you. Your heart detonates. It is not rotten in the slightest.

His body is warm and firm. You smell the cabin wood and the drink on his breath. It all matters, and none of it does. You’re warm everywhere as he wraps both arms around your back, and the way he kisses is, unfortunately, exactly how you thought he would. Your hands are tentative in his hair. So is your mouth on his. But Luke is so deliberate in the way he kisses that you know he’s thought about this, too. It makes you all the warmer.

His hand takes your jaw and tilts it up. You know your neck is shaky with breath, and you’re pretty sure he’s admiring it. You don’t complain when he presses a kiss to your jaw, then another one, like he’s testing the waters. “You’re so nice like this,” he mutters almost to himself, thumb running across your neck. “If only people could see you.”

“Then they’d see how mean you are too, no?” You huff. “You don’t want that.”

Another kiss to your jaw. “Not yet, sweetheart.”

Whatever feeling is harbouring in your body right now, it’s so fulfilling it almost makes you uncomfortable. You want to reject it. You’re not supposed to want things. Worse, you’re not supposed to get things. Luke starts marking a path down your neck and you are so determined to enjoy this that you’d kiss a fucking baby if someone asked you to. You might as well be a saint.

He bites the pulse point on your neck, sure to leave a mark, and a shudder rips through you. You’re pretty sure the bastard starts laughing. You hit his shoulder in retaliation.

“Easy, heathen,” he reprimands in your ear, and you know he’s still smiling.

“Don’t—don’t call me that.” You hate that you start to smile, too, and that your stomach burgeons with butterflies when he pulls back to look at you.

He touches the corner of your upturned mouth, kiss-bitten and red. His expression is boyish. “Hard to when it makes your face do that,” he goads. “I thought it was impossible for you to smile.”

“Be quiet.” You thread a hand through his camp necklace and bring him closer. You can almost taste his mouth on yours, but he sweeps past you at the last minute.

He gently tugs your earlobe with his teeth and whispers, “Yes ma’am.”

Fuck him. Seriously. You might have to.

It’s a tangle of teeth and hands and smiles kept hidden, as you slip your fingertips beneath his shirt and he does the same, and you’re both angry and greedy and incredibly destructive, but it doesn’t matter yet. Now you’re just teenagers fooling around at the back of a party, and it’s the first good thing either of you have had in a long time. Luke leaves you gasping whenever his mouth hits certain places, maybe too many places, and he teases you accordingly. “So sensitive,” he taunts, pressing his knee between your legs so he can see you squirm. You rake your nails through his scalp and he tilts his head back to groan. It shuts him up for a while.

He bites your neck until you say his name. You trace lines on his stomach till he takes your hand in his own. You’ve been hungry for something your whole life, and you finally have something to sink your teeth into. For better or for worse.

After Hades knows how long, laughter floats out from the front of the cabin. Sounds of feet tripping over each other and muffled goodbyes. You pull away from Luke, chests heaving together. His hair is wild, his shirt crumpled, and he looks entirely satisfied with it. Smug little shit. “Party’s letting out,” you mutter.

“What a damn shame.” His hand rubs your jaw, and it’s too tender a gesture so you angle your head away to peek over the side of the cabin. You barely pay attention to the kids straggling back to their bunks.

“Is now the time you tell me all my horrible qualities?” You ask once you’re ready to look at him again.

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Actually, I came up with more since I said that so I’m pretty sure it’ll take more than one night.” He fakes a wince, “Might have to spread it out for a few days.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh, you ass.”

“I’ll give you one for starters.” You feel like a tornado when he kisses the juncture between your jaw and your neck. “Your hands are too cold.” They’re tucked underneath his shirt right now, pressed against his back. You don’t move them. “And,” he adds, “you’re incredibly crass.”

“Thanks, dipshit.”

“Thank you for proving my point, heathen.”

The commotion at the front gets louder, and you know your time to go undiscovered runs short. “You meet me again tomorrow, and I start telling you the rest?” He raises his brows.

The prospect both repulses and excites you, although perhaps they’re hand-in-hand. You tentatively reach up to trace the scar on his face. A faint, jagged line that holds scripture within it. His eyes flutter shut for a moment. “Even though I’m rotten?” You ask, and there’s an echo of mischief in your voice, too.

He’s got a strange expression when he looks at you. “That’s not true.”

He leans down, angles his head to kiss you. It’s slow, but bitter, and he bites down on your lip until you’re pretty sure there’s blood. “Luke,” you murmur, and he kisses you softer. You lean into him like a hapless, lovesick fool.

After you part, he loosens his grip on you. The bumbling campers have gotten louder. He stares at you, and you see the chasm in his eyes again, brimming with fire. Same as yours. You know you’ll see him tomorrow.

He says, “You’re not rotten. You’re right.”

And damn it, you really do believe him.

#perrie’s fics #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo x reader #pjo series #pjo tv show #luke castellan smut #pjo #heroes of olympus #charlie bushnell #i like sexy evil people making out okay. #maybe will make a part 2 to this series because i’m just so fascinated by their weird little dynamic but we’ll see #i kind of hate this but WE MOVE ANYWAYS!!

[faesdreaming]

Yandere Fae - Temptation

he just wants to know your name, that’s all. he promises.

tw: yandere themes, possessive behaviour, reader is lowkey okay with it, implied murder, unhealthy relationships, stockholm syndrome (?)

“Come now, darling,” he croons, so very sweetly, “it’s just a name. I promise I won’t tell.”

He leans his cheek against your arm, gazing up pleadingly. You sigh as you feel your resolve waver. He— the fae— Lucian, he says his name is but you don’t know if he’s telling the truth.

Fae can’t lie, you’d been told as a child. The people of your town nary spoke of the faekind, save in warning tales. They’d told of weaknesses, of iron and salt. Lies. Falsehoods born from ignorance. Fae could lie, could weave truths of honeyed poison sweeter than any ambrosia. One thing you did know was not to tell one your name. Your grandmother had told you. She was the same woman who warned you of the dangers, who thwarted the ignorant claims of the fellow villagers

“Please.” Lucian all but whines. You can’t help but giggle in amusement. For such a powerful creature, he’s acting as though he were a puppy. “It’s just a name.”

But it’s not just a name. Name’s are powerful. They hold history, stories, one’s very being. So, you’ll refuse him once more. “I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Lucian tilts his head. The slightest hint of venom tinges his tone. His slit pupils are dilated double their size, like a predator catching sight of its prey. “Tell me your name.”

Lucian’s been persistent in his efforts. Ever since you moved into a cottage deep within the forest. Unable to bear the repetitive, noisy life of your village, you left. He’s been following you ever since you moved in. He’s bound, tethered to the place. To the land. Through magical means you don’t understand. Lucian adores pestering you with questions, and inane conversation, that you’ve grown to enjoy. But above all else, he seems determined to get your name. Not that you plan to give it to him.

He makes a frustrated noise, a pout forming on his lips. “You’re so stubborn.” Lucian complains. “Just tell me. I won’t tell anyone else, I swear.”

Liar, you think fondly, It’s cute, really, the effort he puts in.

Biting your lip, you briefly contemplate your sanity. Should others find themselves in this situation they wouldn’t be as calm. They’d panic. You should panic. You should probably run for the hills. For it’s not his status as a fae that forebodes danger. He’s— Lucian is complex.

The good-natured mask he wears is just that. A mask. One he wears for you. Your relationship with Lucian is multilayered. Surface level, it is a give and take. What he gives and what you take remains unclear. Surface level, you’re companions. But that implies trust. You don’t trust him. You’re smart enough not too.

“I’m heading out to town.” You tell him. “To the market.”

Lucian huffs. He storms off like a petulant child, intelligibly whining and a pout on his face. You roll your eyes. Gathering a basket and pulling on a cloak, you step out of the cottage. The way to town isn’t marked by a path. You memorize trees and large stones. Landmarks. You trek through the woodlands, thoughts of Lucian occupying your mind.

You hold a certain fondness for him. For the little game you two indulge in. It’s an odd affection, a tired, old one. He makes you cook for him, bemoaning your atrocious mortal cuisine as he eats all of it. He follows you around the cottage with seemingly no concept of personal space. He lingers around you, as if he were a ghost and you his haunt. He entertains you. With tall-tales spun from silk. He offers you gifts in the form of odd trinkets, flowers, nuts, sometimes gems.

Lucian perplexes you. Because despite the casualness of your relationship, you’d be a fool to not be aware of the power imbalance in between the two of you. There’s something dark, dangerous. An ancient, primal magic tethering him to the cottage. To you.

You shake off your wonderings as you reach a clearing. Down, to the left is a quaint little town. It’s sparsely populated, everyone knows everyone, at least everyone who inhabits the area. Locals are wary of travellers, yet they are not so foolish to deny potential patrons business. Their market, tavern, and inn are what’s to be expected of a place such as this. It’s sufficient for your needs, though. Far be it for you to complain.

You stop by the market, examining items being sold by the vendors. As you take an apple in hand, trying to determine whether the produce is worth it’s price, a hand reaches by you. Curiously, you sneak a glance to the person it belongs to.

You’re met with the appearance of a rugged, rogue. Weary from his travels, if you’d have to guess. He gives you half-grin half-smirk that makes your insides flutter. Normally, you’d offer him a flirtatious smile. Perhaps he’d ask to take you out for the night, to the tavern. You’d drink sweet mead and suggest stopping at an inn for the night. Spend it together. Alas, the sanctity of your normal ended upon your meeting with Lucian.

“‘Scuse me, love,” he says, voice a rough timbre. It’s so different than Lucian’s smooth, honeyed lilt. You like it. “You ain’t from ‘round here, eh?”

You nimbly step aside, appreciating the view. You should leave, you know the consequences if you stay. “No.” You tell him. “I live a little ways away.”

He smiles at that. A small little grin that’s almost a smirk. What a dangerous thing, he is. He starts chatting you up. You know what he wants from you and you’re quite certain he knows what he wants from you. You should be beyond such inhibitions— but it’s been so very long since you’d indulged in a bit of fun. So you let him take you back to his inn, slip something in his beer so when he’s done and your sated, he’ll slip right off. The moment he does, you slink away, trekking through the woods back home. Most people wouldn’t, scared of the dangers lurking. But the forest knows that the true danger resides within your home, guaranteeing your safety.

The moment you make it back, Lucian appears, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Entertaining night?”

His tone is frigid and cold, almost the same as his usual indifference. But you know him better than that. “Very.” You hum. “And yet, I’m here with you.”

“Yet you’re here with me.” He parrots. The shift in his demeanour is almost imperceptible, a change so subtle it appears meaningless. You watch as he slinks away, the satisfaction of his tone lingering throughout your mind. The affirmation, to both him and you, that you were here. That you came crawling back to him. That the pull, the tether he held on your being remained tight as ever.

That you were—

Not his. You were still your own being. You let out a shaky sigh and head up to bed. You’ve had too much to drink, you tell yourself. The next morn, when you awaken, groggily blinking, something immediately feels off. After living like this— after living with him— for so long, you’ve come to understand to trust your intuition while ignoring the warning bells ringing in your head.

You head down the stairs. Your body is heavy from your hang over. It dulls your senses. You know you need to be on guard, lest Lucian have his way. Speak of the devil, you muse, as he leans on the kitchen island smugly. “Rough night?”

“Don’t.” You warn, grabbing a pot and filling it with water to boil. Lician laughs. His laughter sharp and smooth. “Forgive me, lovely.” He croons. “I do not intend to rouse that temper of yours.”

You eye him suspiciously. Of course, you’re always suspicious in regards to him, but this behaviour is odd. Odder than usual. He usually demands you cook for him, asks for your name, then huffs when you rebuff him. It’s routine and Lucian isn’t one for breaking routine. You rake over his handsome, pointed features. He sports an usual grin. Self-satisfied and almost victorious. Then, you spot a crimson splatter along the underside of his throat.

“Is there something wrong, lovely?” He inquires, tilting his head almost as if to show you the blood stained on his neck.

Don’t give in. Don’t pay attention to it. You learned early on giving in only worsens his behaviour. “No.” You answer firmly. You avoid his question, evasive and ignorant. Your ignorance serves as a shield. “I ought to make something, barely ate yesterday.”

Lucian’s eyes flicker with both annoyance and pleasure. “Make me some too.” He orders, before sauntering off.

It sends a shiver down your spine, your compliance. Barely able to deny him, yet unable to give into him. It irks him. It also pleases him. It’s a game between the two of you. One neither of you can quit. You tow the line each time, out of selfishness. The desire to be free. To be as it was. It ends in his possessive fits, with blood shed, staining your hands crimson. Yet you continue. His attention is intoxicating. As addicting as mead. It drives you mad, tantalizes you, taunts you. But you don’t give in fully. Can’t. At least, not yet.

“Come now, lovely. I know you wish to fall into temptation with me.”

#yandere romance #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere #yandere oneshots #yandere drabble #yandere oneshot #yandere fae #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere imagine

[hoshifighting]

Overstimulation

After a breakup, you confide in Mingyu about your ex-boyfriend's reluctance to indulge one of your fetishes. To your surprise, Mingyu eagerly offers to help you explore and practice it.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, overstimulation (m. receiving), fetish explorations, mentions of body fluids, finger riding (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), oral sex (m. receiving), rough sex, multiple orgasms and etc.

Thank you anon for the request! Here it is! Love you!

You and Mingyu had been inseparable since childhood, sharing everything from secrets to dreams. He was your rock, your confidant, your best friend. As the years went by, your bond only grew stronger, weathering the storms of life together.

But as you entered into a long-term relationship with a guy, things began to change. You found yourself craving new experiences, wanting to explore the world outside the confines of your relationship. You started to feel restless, curious about what else was out there.

One evening, after you broke up with the same person, you found yourself opening up to Mingyu about your desires. "I loved him," you began, hesitantly. "But sometimes I wondered what it would be like to be with someone else, to have different experiences, especially in bed."

Mingyu listened quietly, his eyes full of understanding. "I get it," he said softly. "It's natural to want to explore, to learn and grow. And you shouldn't feel guilty for wanting that."

You felt a weight lift off your shoulders at his words. For the first time, you didn't feel judged or condemned for your thoughts. Mingyu was there, offering his support without hesitation.

He encouraged you to meet new people, to broaden your horizons, and to step out of your comfort zone. Mingyu was like a guiding light, leading you through the maze of uncertainty with unwavering support.

He introduced you to his friends, a diverse group with different backgrounds and personalities. Mingyu's vast list of contacts became your ticket to new experiences, as you found yourself going on dates with intriguing individuals from all walks of life.

He never judged you for wanting more; instead, he cheered you on, urging you to chase after your desires with unwavering determination.

"Do you have any fetishes?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine interest.

Your eyes widened slightly at the question, surprised by its suddenness. You shifted in your seat, contemplating how to respond. After a moment of hesitation, you decided to trust Mingyu with this intimate detail.

"Uh, fetishes? Well, I mean, doesn't everyone have something they're into?" you replied, trying to play it cool.

Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, pretty much. So spill the beans, what's yours?"

Feeling a bit bashful, you hesitated for a moment before deciding to be honest. "Well, I've always been intrigued by overstimulation," you admitted, your cheeks flushing pink.

Mingyu's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Overstimulation, huh? That's actually pretty light," he remarked, his tone nonchalant.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction. "Yeah, I guess so," you replied, relieved that he didn't seem fazed by your confession.

Then, after a moment of silence, you couldn't resist adding with a mischievous grin, "Actually, I've always wanted to be the one doing the overstimulating."

Mingyu's eyes widened in shock, his mouth falling open in disbelief. "Wait, what?!" he sputtered, clearly caught off guard by your revelation. "I thought you were a pillow princess!" 

You gasped dramatically, pretending to be offended. "A pillow princess? Me? How dare you, Mingyu!"

Mingyu threw his head back with laughter, clearly amused by your exaggerated reaction. "Come on, you can't deny it. You give off those vibes sometimes."

You raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in your eye. "Oh, so you think I'm just lying back and letting everyone else do the work, huh? I'll have you know I can be quite the opposite."

Mingyu laughed, realizing he had walked right into your trap. "Okay, okay, I get it. You're not a pillow princess. You're a... pillow queen?"

You rolled your eyes, swatting him playfully with a nearby cushion. "Oh, please. I'm more like a pillow ninja."

Mingyu doubled over with laughter, unable to contain himself. "Pillow ninja? I love it! Consider me impressed, oh mighty pillow ninja."

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "Oh, I see how it is. You think you know me so well, huh?"

Mingyu's grin widened as he leaned back against the couch. "Hey, I'm just going by what you told me. But if you're saying there's more to you than meets the eye..."

You nodded emphatically, a mischievous gleam in your eyes. "Oh, there's definitely more to me than meets the eye."

"So, you're telling me you've got some hidden talents, huh?" Mingyu's voice was low, dripping with seductive undertones.

You grinned, leaning in closer to meet his gaze. "Oh, you have no idea," you replied, your voice laced with a hint of mischief.

Mingyu's eyebrow arched teasingly as he closed the distance between you, his breath warm against your ear. "Well, then, why don't you show me?" he murmured, his words sending a thrill coursing through you.

You bit your lip, a coy smile playing on your lips. "Maybe I will," you teased back, your heart racing with excitement.

The air crackled with anticipation as Mingyu leaned back, his eyes dancing with playful desire. "I can't wait," he whispered, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

With a daring grin, you leaned in closer, your breath mingling with Mingyu's as you whispered, "But first, let's see if you can handle what I have in store."

Mingyu's eyes widened in playful challenge, his smirk growing even wider. "Oh, I'm more than ready for whatever you have planned," he shot back, his voice thick with anticipation.

You chuckled softly, feeling a surge of confidence coursing through you. "We'll see about that," you teased, trailing a finger lightly along Mingyu's jawline, relishing the way his breath hitched in response.

The tension between you crackled with electricity as Mingyu's gaze darkened with desire. With a swift movement, he pulled you closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

"Show me," he murmured, his voice husky with need.

our lips collided in a fiery embrace, tongues tangling hungrily as desire surged between you. Mingyu's hands gripped your waist with a fervent urgency, pulling you closer until there was barely any space left between your bodies.

With each passionate kiss, the world around you faded into obscurity, leaving only the electric connection between you and Mingyu. His lips moved against yours with a delicious rhythm, igniting a firestorm of need deep within your core.

As you melted into his touch, the sensation of his lips against your skin sent sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins. Every brush, every graze, every kiss left your skin tingling with a raw and primal hunger.

Breathless and needy, you broke apart for a moment, gasping for air as Mingyu's eyes burned with desire. But the pause was fleeting, as his lips crashed against yours once more, hungry and demanding.

With lips locked in a feverish embrace, you and Mingyu stumbled towards the bedroom, shedding clothes haphazardly along the way. T-shirts and jeans were discarded on the floor of the apartment hallway, forgotten in the heat of the moment.

As you bumped into furniture, knocking over a lamp in your haste, Mingyu groaned softly against your lips, the sound sending shivers down your spine. But you couldn't stop now, not when the desire between you burned so fiercely.

Hands roamed eagerly over heated skin, fingers tangling in hair as you pressed closer, eager to savor every moment of this. The world around you faded into a blur as you reached the bedroom, stumbling onto the bed in a tangle of limbs.

Mingyu's hand tangled in your hair, exerting a gentle pressure as he guided you downward. You found yourself on your knees beside the bed, his form laid out before you, anticipation coursing through your veins.

Following his lead, your hands trailed along his thighs, feeling the tension in his muscles beneath your touch. When his hand guided yours to his bulge, you felt a surge of excitement shoot through you.

Your gaze met Mingyu's as you looked up from beneath, a coy smile playing on your lips. With deliberate slowness, you licked a large stripe up the length of his cock, feeling the heat and slickness of his precum against your tongue.

A hiss escaped Mingyu's lips, a sharp intake of breath betraying the intensity of his arousal. Encouraged by his reaction, you continued your exploration, teasing and tasting every inch of him with unrestrained hunger.

As you lavished attention on him, Mingyu's grip on your hair tightened, his hips lifting slightly in response to your touch.

Feeling the throbbing heat of Mingyu's cock in your hands, you couldn't resist the primal urge building inside you. You needed to feel him deep in your throat, to take him in completely and surrender to the raw intensity of the moment.

With determination, you lowered your head, taking him into your mouth inch by inch. Mingyu's grip on your hair tightened instinctively, his fingers digging into your scalp as a guttural groan escaped his lips.

As you took more of him into your mouth, your throat stretched to accommodate his size, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. Mingyu's hips bucked up slightly in response, his breath coming in ragged gasps as you continued your relentless descent.

As Mingyu's climax approached, you intensified your movements, bobbing your head with fervent determination. The heat of his cock in your mouth, the urgency in his grip on your hair, it all fueled your desire to bring him to the edge.

Then, without warning, you felt the first hot spurts of his release, his cum flooding your mouth. Mingyu's eyes widened in surprise, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the unexpected time he cummed.

Before he could react, you pressed your head down again, sucking him greedily, your mouth working to extract every last drop of his cum. His cock throbbed incessantly against your tongue, the taste of his cum mingling with your spit.

Mingyu was trembling, his moans reverberating loudly throughout the room, creating a symphony of pleasure that filled the air. With each eager movement of your mouth, he struggled to keep himself in check, resisting the urge to let his eyes roll back in ecstasy.

You sucked him with such intensity, as if you were drawing his very soul from him. The feeling was overwhelming, almost divine, as Mingyu gave himself over completely to the whirlwind of pleasure.

His fingers clawed at the sheets, his body arching towards you in a desperate plea for more. The wet noises of your mouth working him over mixed with his cries of pleasure, filling the room with a heady atmosphere.

In that moment, teetering on the edge of release, Mingyu felt like he was losing himself entirely. But with you there, guiding him through the dizzying haze of pleasure, he knew he was in the best hands possible.

Mingyu gasped for air, his body trembling with aftershocks of pleasure as he came again, filling your mouth with another wave of his release. It was a sensation unlike anything he had experienced before, his mind swimming in a haze of bliss.

For the first time in his life, Mingyu found himself climaxing twice in a matter of minutes, the intensity of his arousal overwhelming his senses. His cock softened in your mouth, spent and satisfied, as he panted heavily, trying to catch his breath.

As you continued to pump Mingyu's dick with your hands, mixing the mess of your spit and his cum together, you couldn't help but notice the way his body responded. His legs trembled beneath you, his breath hitching in short gasps as you worked him over.

With a mischievous grin, you teased him, "You want to know my fetish better, huh?"

Mingyu's response was a throaty moan, his body convulsing on the bed as you circled your palm on the sensitive head of his cock.

"You- you're driving me... crazy," he managed to gasp out between moans.

Mingyu's body convulsed on the bed, his legs trembling with the intensity of the sensation. "Oh god," he moaned, his voice hitching with pleasure as your hand worked its magic.

With each stroke, each teasing caress, Mingyu's moans grew louder, filling the room with the sweet symphony of his pleasure. And as you watched him squirm and writhe beneath you, you couldn't help but laugh softly, enjoying the delicious torture you were inflicting on him.

Feeling the knot tightening in his stomach once more, Mingyu couldn't help but roll his hips, seeking more friction, more sensation from your skilled hand. His cock, already red and sensitive from your attention, throbbed with anticipation as his stomach trembled with the intensity of his arousal.

With each roll of his hips, Mingyu's moans grew louder, more desperate, as he surrendered completely to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him. "Mmmh d-don't sto-op!" he groaned, his voice thick with need, his body quivering with every touch.

As Mingyu reached the peak of his pleasure once more, he felt the familiar surge of release wash over him. But this time, it was different. Only a small spill of cum escaped his cock, a testament to the intense arousal that had already wracked his body.

With a shuddering exhale, Mingyu's body finally began to relax, the tension melting away as the waves of pleasure subsided. He lay there, spent and satisfied, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.

You watched him with a satisfied smile, your hand still resting gently on his softened cock. You lean in to kiss Mingyu, the kiss slow and sloppy as both of you catch your breath. But before you can deepen the kiss, he suddenly stops, a puzzled expression on his face.

"What's that?" Mingyu asks, his voice filled with curiosity.

Confused, you furrow your brow and follow his gaze, looking down between your bodies. Your pussy is dripping wet, the slickness coating his thigh as a glob of arousal slides down your folds.

You gasp softly, feeling a surge of arousal at the sight, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Oh, uh... I guess I'm just really turned on," you reply, your voice slightly breathless.

Mingyu's eyes darken with desire as he watches the slickness glisten on his thigh. A low, guttural moan escapes his lips, his cock twitching in response to the erotic sight.

"Fuck," he murmurs, his voice husky with need. "You're so wet, baby. Do you have any idea what you do to me?"

You bite your lip, feeling a rush of arousal at his words. "Tell me," you whisper, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu's gaze flickers between your eyes and the wetness between your thighs, desire burning in his dark orbs. "You make me so hard, so fucking needy," he growls, his hand reaching out to trace a path along your slick folds. "Just seeing you like this, dripping wet and ready for me... it's driving me insane."

As Mingyu's fingers slide inside you, you can't help but squirm, a soft moan escaping your lips as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. His touch is slow and deliberate, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Mingyu holds you close, his other hand trailing soothingly along your back as he continues to move his fingers inside you. With each stroke, each tantalizing caress, the pleasure builds, spiraling higher and higher until you're teetering on the edge of release.

You moan softly into his neck, the sound muffled by the warmth of his skin as Mingyu's fingers work their magic inside you. 

As Mingyu's fingers work their magic inside you, he leans in close, his voice a low, seductive murmur against your ear.

"You like that, baby?" he breathes, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "You like feeling my fingers deep inside you, stroking you just right?"

You nod eagerly, unable to form words as pleasure courses through your veins.

Mingyu chuckles softly, the sound sending vibrations through your body. "I love watching you squirm, feeling you tighten around me," he continues, his voice husky with desire. "You're so fucking wet for me, so eager for my touch."

You whimper in response, the words sending waves of arousal crashing over you.

"I could finger you like this all night," Mingyu murmurs, his fingers moving with expert precision. "But what I really want is to feel you clench around my cock, to hear you scream my name as you come undone."

His words push you closer to the edge, the promise of his cock inside you driving you wild with need. "Ride my fingers baby…"

As Mingyu encourages you to ride his fingers, you raise yourself up to look at him, feeling a surge of excitement mingled with nervousness. "I-I'm not sure if I can..." you stutter, your voice filled with uncertainty.

But Mingyu's eyes burn with desire as he reassures you, his voice low and husky. "You can do it, baby. I know you can," he murmurs, his hand steady beneath you as his fingers remain buried deep inside you.

With a deep breath, you steady yourself, feeling a rush of determination wash over you. Slowly, you begin to move your hips, riding Mingyu's fingers with increasing confidence.

"That's it," Mingyu breathes, his voice filled with encouragement. "Feel how good you make me feel, how wet you are for me."

His words ignite a fire within you, spurring you on as you ride his fingers with abandon. Mingyu's hand remains steady beneath you, his pinky and forefinger teasing your entrance while his middle fingers curl deliciously inside you, hitting all the right spots.

As you move, a mess is made on his hand, slick with your arousal, but Mingyu doesn't seem to mind. Instead, he watches you with rapt attention, his eyes dark with desire as he waits for his cock to get harder, eager to join you in the blissful dance of pleasure.

"You look so fucking sexy riding my fingers," Mingyu groans, his voice thick with need. "I can't wait to feel you riding me just like this, taking all of me inside you."

"Are you ready for me, baby?" Mingyu whispers, his voice a sultry invitation. "Ready to take all of me, to let me fill you up completely?"

As Mingyu brushes the tip of his cock against your entrance, a shiver of anticipation runs down your spine. With a nod of confirmation, you express your readiness, your body practically trembling with excitement.

Mingyu's smile is intoxicating as he reaches down to give his cock a few more pumps, ensuring he's ready for you. With a steady hand on your hips, he guides you as you slowly lower yourself onto him.

The sensation of his cock sliding into you is exquisite, a perfect blend of pleasure and fullness that leaves you breathless. You gasp as you take him in, inch by inch, feeling him fill you up completely.

Mingyu's grip on your hips tightens as you sink down onto him, his eyes locked with yours, a mixture of desire and adoration shining in their depths. With each movement, each thrust, you feel a connection forming between you.

As you start to ride Mingyu slowly, his nails dig into your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His chest rises and falls with each ragged breath, his head thrown back in blissful abandon.

"I'm so sensitive, even after I'm hard again," Mingyu confesses, his voice strained with pleasure. "it's like I can feel every inch of you."

His admission only fuels your desire, spurring you to move with even more purpose and intent. With each rock of your hips, you feel him deep inside you, filling you up and setting your body ablaze with pleasure.

Mingyu's hands roam eagerly over your body, exploring every curve and contour as if he can't get enough of you. His touch is electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins.

As Mingyu's under abdomen trembled beneath you, a telltale sign that he was nearing the edge, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. His moans grew louder, more urgent, and you could see the ecstasy written all over his face as he approached the peak of pleasure.

With a wicked grin, you leaned in close, your voice dripping with desire as you began to tease him with dirty talk. "You like that, baby?" you whispered, your breath hot against his ear. "You like how good I feel riding you like this?"

Mingyu's response was a guttural groan, his hands tightening on your hips as he struggled to form a coherent response. But you weren't about to let him off that easily.

"You're so close, aren't you?" you continued, your voice low and sultry. "You want to come for me, don't you?"

Mingyu's breathing grew ragged, his body trembling beneath you as he fought to hold on just a little while longer. But you weren't about to make it easy for him.

"I want to hear you say it," you murmured, your lips brushing against his skin as you whispered your command. "Tell me how badly you want to come for me. Tell me how much you need it."

And as Mingyu struggled to give you a response, his moans growing louder with each passing moment, you knew that he was teetering on the brink. 

As Mingyu surrendered completely to the overwhelming pleasure, his body convulsing with the force of his release, you couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction wash over you. His cries of ecstasy filled the air, mingling with your own moans of pleasure as you continued to ride him with unbridled passion.

"You like that, baby?" you purred, your voice dripping with desire as you felt his cock throbbing inside you. "You like how I'm overstimulating you, making you come so hard you can't even think straight?"

Mingyu's response was a choked sob, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. But you weren't about to let up, not when you were so close to your own release.

With renewed determination, you continued to ride him, your movements becoming more frantic as you chased your own pleasure. Mingyu's cries of ecstasy filled the air, driving you wild with desire as you approached the brink of your own orgasm.

And as the pleasure washed over you in a tidal wave of sensation, you cried out in ecstasy, your body shuddering with the force of your release. Mingyu's cries echoed yours, his hands trembling while he grabbed your body close. 

Your stamina remained high, fueled by the intense sex between you and Mingyu. Even after your orgasm, you continued to bounce and ride him, your body moving with a relentless energy that seemed endless.

With each movement, each thrust, you felt a surge of pleasure coursing through you, driving you ever closer to the edge once more. Mingyu's cries of pleasure spurred you on, his hands gripping your hips with tightened fingers.

But as you rode him with increasing fervor, you felt a familiar tension building within you, a wave of pleasure that threatened to consume you completely. Your legs began to tremble beneath you, weakened by the relentless onslaught of pleasure.

And then, with a cry of ecstasy, you felt it wash over you, a tidal wave of pleasure that left you trembling and breathless. Your body convulsed with the force of your orgasm, your legs giving out beneath you as you collapsed against Mingyu, spent and satisfied.

As you disentangle yourself from Mingyu's spent form, you can't help but admire the sight before you. His cock is sore and spent, body glistening with sweat, his body exuding an aura of exhaustion and satisfaction.

"Are you good?" you ask softly, concern lacing your voice as you look down at him.

Mingyu lets out a ragged breath, his chest heaving as he meets your gaze with a mixture of disbelief and awe. "You're crazy," he murmurs, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

But then his expression turns serious, his eyes locking with yours as he speaks again. "Don't you dare to do this to anyone else," he says, his voice tinged with possessiveness. "Overstimulating might just become a kink of mine too, especially if it's with you."

His words send a shiver of excitement down your spine, the possessiveness in his tone igniting a fire within you. With a smirk, you lean in close, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

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