#and then he goes to find her something(one) to eat.

[hon3y-y]

NUH UH roomate!sukuna had his thot era, it's time for reader to have hers!!! And he's gonna sit there and WATCH it- payback baby. I wanted reader to fuck satoru, suguru, kento, choso, even fucking hiromi- she gonna get it ALLLLLLL before sukuna can even get a taste 😤

cw: noncon filming!

pt 1: here<3

omfg he would be soooo pissed💀

picture this;

The morning after everything happened, Sukuna was more than ready to make it official with you. He had already planned how he was going to seduce you. He got up early to hit the gym before you even woke up, so when you were finally awake, you would see him all jacked up and sweaty. It literally had his stomach fluttering with excitement at just how fast he knew you'd fold. 

Well, easier said than done, because when he does get home and hear someone in the kitchen, it's not you cutely rubbing your sleepy eyes in nothing but a baggy shirt. Instead, it’s that white-haired freak from last night. 

He literally rolls his eyes, ignoring the greeting the guy sends and telling him to “get the fuck out” to which Satoru just laughs, takes his toast (which he made in Sukuna’s toaster, by the way), and exits the kitchen while taking a bite. Sukuna goes to your room door but is stopped by the obnoxious blond.

“She left, said she was going to see a friend.”

“Why are you still here?”

Satoru shrugs before grabbing the shirt he had thrown onto the couch the previous night and waving goodbye, crumbs from the toast he was eating still on his lips, before the door slams shut. 

Ryomen was floored. Were you two officials? Is that why you finally brought someone home? He couldn’t deny the pinch in his chest, but he shoved it aside. I mean, he would happily break up a home, so even if this was your stupid boyfriend, it wouldn’t dampen anything. He doesn’t mind a little competition. 

At least, that’s what he thinks it’s going to be. Since that night, both of your schedules had been too complicated, and you two had only seen each other in passing. But tonight, he knew you would both be off and it’s the weekend, so he knows you at least don’t have anything till midday. 

You return late, and you are absolutely not alone.

You’re with another guy, some blond man who looks a little too pristine to be found at the club (who he later finds out is kento from your whimpered of “kento! Oh fuck—yes! right there!”).

You don’t even notice that Sukuna's door is wide open and instead stumble straight into your own. and Ryomen is jaw-dropped, shocked. 

He begins to feel like a cuck; all he does is listen to you fuck this random selection of men you’ve created within these recent couple of weeks and fuck his fist stupid. It’s so embarrassing to feel like a hormonal teenager who can’t get a grip. but he can’t stop; he just remembers what you look like under Satoru. 

Night after night, all weekend long, you’re bringing home someone new. although after a while it’s just the same three guys. the annoying blond, Kento (or “the businessman”), and some random boy named "choso,” who he walked in on you giving a blow job to.

You stopped immediately, so embarrassed and shy, as if you didn’t just have this guy with his eyes rolled back, nearly crying every time you gagged on him. Choso, on the other hand, looked too fucked out to care about the third person in the room. 

Sukuna was so hard and horny all the time, and his interest in finding someone to handle it was useless. He wanted you, not some random girl. He even bought a fleshlight for the first time, needing something other than his hand to hump. 

One night, he returned late and heard the sweet noises of your mewls (again, it was starting to feel like a routine). He tried to quietly pass your door, but stopped short. three voices?

He almost couldn't believe it, but after cracking your door open, there you were. You were jerking Satoru off, his white hair sticking to his damp forehead, while this guy with long black hair was pounding into you. One of his hands wrapped around your throat while the other played with your clit, your body jerking at the intensity of stimulation. Satoru played with your swollen nipples, pinching and leaning down to suck them. 

Sukuna can’t help but pull his phone out and record it, going back to his room and rutting into his fleshlight until his cock is raw. the video on a constant loop because he was so fucking addicted. You looked so good. so pretty, and pliant under them. He wanted, no, needed to have you.

You lay in bed, absolutely exhausted after Suguru and Satoru left. You still can’t deny the effect Sukuna has on you, but since you’ve started having hookups, you haven’t even tried to listen to what Ryo does (not that you could’ve or noticed, clearly. he’s been on a dry spell). While you sleep peacefully, snuggled into your warm comforter, Sukuna lies awake, extremely frustrated.

he’s sooo down bad://

[dnd-smash-pass-vs]

Inevitable been thinking about how that one anon viewed Laios as a monsterfucker, and I think it made me realize the source of that confusion:

I think many monsterfuckers, and also many (dare I say most) monster devourers like Laios, both derive their desire from the same source: a latent wish for apoteratosis, the wish to become a monster.

Linguistic side note: apotheosis, becoming a god, breaks down to apo- (towards the end point), theo (god), -osis (turn noun into verb), so I swapped in the root for monster, hence apo- terato -osis. Side note over.

Monster devourers are a rather rare archetype in (mainstream) fiction, but they do exist. Those who seek to mimic or emulate the monster's power, those who find them endlessly fascinating and study them well past the point of obsession, those who wish to show their dominance over the monster by proving that they can kill and eat it... and I think Laios is the first I've seen who takes the title quite so literally, where his obsession goes straight to monsters-as-food.

Monsterfuckers, meanwhile wish to become close to the monster in a non destructive way (or at least a typically less destructive one, usually the only casualties are furniture and few bandages are needed, but I'll acknowledge that exceptions definitely exist). They wish to bond with it, to connect to it through lust or intimacy, to be able to stand at its side. They wish, on some level, to join it. Side note, I'm not saying this is true of all teratophiles, some are just kinky and driven by the thought of positive physical pleasure, or who find the personality of a given monster appealing, but I do think the apoteratotic desire is an underlying driver for many, I'd guess well more than half, it's just a subtle enough thing that I don't think most are consciously aware of it.

There's also a third point to the secret apoteratosis triangle that might surprise you: the monster slayer. Sure many, even most, slayers are driven by something like disgust or xenophobia or even rationality, but a significant minority land in the "if you can't join 'em, beat 'em" a.k.a. "I can't be you, so I'll destroy you" camp.

And these three reactions are, I notice, the three most common reactions that people have to one thing: the unattainable desire. The sentence begins "I cannot have it..." and these three camps end it different ways.

The teratophages say "so I shall dominate it." They seek what power they can grasp so they can have some modicum of control, so they can try to "have" it anyway. The kaiju corpse scavengers in Pacific Rim including refined and suave mob boss types just smacks of this attitude.

The teratophiles say "so I'll get as close as I can." There's a werewolf romance book where they're considering trying to turn the girlfriend, though they have no idea if she'll survive it (boyfriend was turned by accident then abandoned, so he's clueless, and they haven't found any others to teach them), and she says that she's fine remaining human, because she shares the power through him. "I have it, because you have it." The façade eventually breaks and in a vulnerable moment she confesses that she'd be willing to risk even a likely death to try to be turned. When they get in contact with an elder who can turn her safely she doesn't even wait a week.

The teratophobes write that whole sentence as "if I can't have it, then no one can." I'm sure everyone has seen enough examples of this behavior to understand that it's just a kind of love turned corrupt.

I'm not the first to notice the underlying apoteratotic urge: the aforementioned werewolf story, indeed many werewolf and vampire stories romanticize the transformation of a human into a monster. Back to Dungeon Meshi, author Ryōko Kui is fully aware of it with how Laios's underlying desire is eventually brought out of the subtext and explicitly named as his dysphoria with humanity, and his wishing that he could be a monster. For Laios that desire skipped right past the socially unacceptable monsterfucking, explicitly a form of bestiality in that world, to the socially acceptable devouring, though tempered by his respect and admiration of monsters into a desire for symbiosis with them. He cannot become one in truth (or so he thought when younger) but he could become part of their food web. It's as close as he thought he could get. Of course, that's the Watsonian explanation; the Doylist explanation is that Ryōko Kui wanted to subvert expectations, and also wanted to explore this angle of it.

So, all taken together, I think people read Laios as monsterfucker coded simply because teratophiles, teratophages, and teratophobes all share the same root motivation: apoteratosis. Thus, all three branches are coded very similarly.

It's similar to something I've seen in Batman fandom: some fans project romantic love between various members of the Batfamily, which is both wildly against canon and thoroughly hated by some other branches of fandom. But it is understandable, since familial love and romantic love both come from the same root, love of another. If someone doesn't recognize the simultaneous similarities and distinctions, it's all to easy to conflate them. If you don't actually understand the distinction, then the signs of affection between siblings might look the same as the signs of affection between lovers. Likewise, if you don't understand the distinction, the urge of the monster devourers (or ecologists) might look the same as the urge of the monster fucker.

I've sat on this for near a month, partially because of my repeated absences, partially because I wanted to honor it with an equally in-depth response. But 24 days later I've still got nothing, while I can't speak for that particular person I think in general you hit the nail right on the head for the base roots. I got no notes. Even with Laios...like all I can add is how supplemental materials actually confirm he did want to be a monster researcher but found books too dry, the only one who seemed to really *get* monsters was shunned. and how wild he goes when talking with an actual werewolf, "The existence I thought unobtainable is now right in front of me".

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

What they're like when you're sick

Includes: Alastor, Angel Dust, Charlie, Husk, Lucifer, Sir Pentious, Vaggie, Valentino, Velvette, and Vox

Warnings: None

Word Count: 858

Alastor

He's indifferent and often times cruel, but if he cares about you, he's a real sweetie.

He'd bring you your favorite warm beverage.

He would cook something for you; probably something his mom made him when he was feeling under the weather as a child.

He'd check in to make sure you're resting. (You better be, or else.)

His shadow would keep you company, mostly keeping an eye on you while he's doing a broadcast.

He'd secretly be worried out of his mind, but he's to prideful to admit how much your wellbeing means to him.

Angel Dust

He's concerned as fuck; going as far as blowing off Val just to make sure you're okay.

Checks in every few hours with a new joke, just to see if you're well enough to react.

Let's you cuddle with Fat Nuggets while you sleep.

Have you eaten? Are you hungry at all? He'd grab you something quick from the kitchen, just say the word.

Watches movies with you until you pass out from exhaustion.

Practically shoves water and vitamins at you like he's a concerned mother.

Charlie

Nothing to her is more important than you getting better. Sorry world, that's just how it is.

She's practically perched at your bedside with vitamins, water, a fresh box of tissues, and a trash can.

Makes sure you eat at least one meal.

Let's you rest, but keeps close in case you need her.

Will do anything to make sure you're comfortable while your body works through the Hellish virus.

Keeps everyone else from bothering you.

Husk

He's worried about your wellbeing, but also knows you're not gonna drop dead on a whim.

Leaves crackers and medicine on your bedside table for whenever you wake up.

He conveniently only checks in when you're resting, just to make sure you're taking the recovery seriously.

Will make sure everyone knows that you're resting so that they'll try their hardest to not bother you.

Straight up goes 'dad mode' (as Angel calls it) if anyone makes a particularly loud noise that echoes off of the walls.

Sends you back to bed if you try to join everyone else. You need to rest.

Lucifer

Panics like he did whenever Charlie got sick.

Makes at least a dozen little ducks that resemble your personality so that you have his presence even when he's not in the room with you.

Brings you soup and your favorite hot beverage.

Warm compresses, warm blankets, cool room.

Gets absolutely anything you want.

Checks in on you religiously, but quietly so that he doesn't wake you.

Sir Pentious

He's literally probably the sweetest.

Will run to the store if you need something specific, no questions asked — would even leave the Egg Bois with you so you're not alone.

Has the basic necessities on hand.

Would fluff your pillows when you sat up to drink water.

Hungry? He's sending the Egg Bois downstairs to grab you something that you can eat.

He'd stay in the room and do his own thing, just to be close.

Vaggie

Is mad that you got sick, but is worried.

Would bring you your favorite sick soup if you said you were hungry. It's salty, but just what your body needs.

Death glares anyone who comes down the hallway too loud.

She would be distant, but still close by.

She's making sure your room's environment will help you get better. (Ex: cool air, warm blankets, closed curtains, etc.)

Will scold you if you get out of bed for anything other than the bathroom.

Valentino

He literally doesn't even notice at first, but once he does notice, he's sending someone to your room with your favorite hot beverage and antibiotics.

If anyone goes near your room that isn't him or the demon he's sending while he works, they're probably getting torn apart.

Every few hours, you'd wake up to find stuff on your bedside table that hadn't been there. Little trinkets, notes, and candies.

Threatens anyone who gets too loud.

At your bedside at the end of the day, making sure you drank something and at the very least took your vitamins.

Pushes you to eat something, while simultaneously leaving you alone to rest.

Velvette

You're sick!? This show is on hold until her favorite person is all better.

Refuses to go in the room without Hell's equivalent of Lysol on hand.

She comes bearing food and little trinkets to keep you occupied in your moments of boredom when you're not resting.

Will kill anyone who tries to bother you for some inane bullshit, best model or not.

Texts you periodically to make sure you're alive.

Will do research to help you the best she can.

Vox

He's watching you through the cameras and checking your vitals during his free time.

Let's you watch cartoons on his screen until you fall asleep in the late evening.

Is there with water the moment you go into a coughing fit.

Will ask around trying to figure out what to do for sick demons.

He brings you your favorite food and a weird looking stuffed animal that Velvette helped him pick out.

Works less to spend more time with you while you're recovering.

A/N: I guess these are my thing now 💅 if you want, you can join my discord here. It's absolutely no pressure if you don't want to, but if you wanna make some pretty cool friends, join in! The vibes are good like 90% of the time. If you're 18+, just make sure to let me know in the introductions chat :)

As always, my requests are open! I have 3 anon requests sitting there that I'll get to eventually — I swear I will lmao. I hope everyone enjoyed this! I love the support thst I got on the best friend's hc's <3 I appreciate all of you

[sturniolo-fall-enthusiast]

Covid

Y/N groans as she wakes up, grimacing at the immediate pounding in her head. She rubs her face, sighing. She lifts her head up enough, glancing back at the bed being empty. She frowns before grabbing her phone and seeing it's 1 P.M.

Y/N huffs, getting out of the bed, trudging out of the room. She shuffles to the bathroom, stopping when she finds Matt at the sink.

"Hey." She mumbles.

"Hey." He yawns. "I tested positive today. I can sleep on the couch or something." He offers.

"Too late." She sighs. "My head's killing me. I think I already have it."

"Fuck." Matt sighs. "Here." He grabs another test and gives it to her. He looks at her as she grimaces. "What?"

"I don't wanna do it." She whines.

"Y/N/N..."

"I hate it." She states. "I could stick up too far and it could get stuck."

"That won't happen." Matt argues.

"How do you know?" She retorts.

"Baby, I'm too tired to bicker right now. Do you want me to do it?" He asks. After a moment of consideration, she nods. "Okay." He mumbles, taking the test out. He grabs the swab and steps closer to her, the girl instinctively backing up to the counter. "Baby..."

"Can't we just agree I have it and not test me?" She pleads, giving him puppy dog eyes.

"No." Matt shakes his head. "It'll be fine. It's quick."

"That's what she said." Y/N says, weakly attempting to comfort herself with humor.

"Babe." Matt chuckles, rolling his eyes. "Be over before you know it." He promises, resting his hand on one side of her head. He moves the swab closer to her nose, about to go in, but she whines and leans back, holding her arms up as protection. "Sweetheart, come on. You can do it. You've done it before."

"I know, but I still hate it." She pouts.

"Just close your eyes and don't think about it." Matt says.

"What if you stick it up too far and it gets stuck?" She questions.

"I won't, I promise." Matt tells her. "Close your eyes. Breathe." He orders, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. He rubs the back of her scalp, fingers tangled in her hair. Y/N sighs, but closes her eyes, trying to focus on her breathing.

Y/N flinches when the swab goes up one nostril, whining.

"I know, I know." Matt mumbles. "Few more seconds." He takes the swab out and goes to the next nostril, repeating his actions. Y/N's whines grow a bit louder, resisting the urge to fidget.

"Almost. Almost." Matt promises, taking the swab out after a few moments. He puts the test back, setting his timer for 15 minutes.

"See? All done." He smooths some of her hair down. "You did great." He smiles, kissing her forehead. Y/N groans, leaning into Matt and he wraps her up in a warm hug.

They stay like that until the timer goes off, the two looking to see the positive test.

"I'll call Chris. Let him know we're infected." Matt says with a heavy sigh. "I hate being sick."

"Right there with you." Y/N mumbles, going to the kitchen to find something to eat, thankfully still having an appetite.

---

Y/N rubs her head as she wishes for the headache to go away. She stops when Matt walks in, rubbing his eyes.

"Need these?" Matt asks, resting his hand over the light switch. Y/N shakes her head and Matt turns the lights off, the TV still providing light so he can see his way to the bed.

He climbs in, getting under the covers.

"You feel okay?" Y/N asks.

"Bleh." Matt mutters. "You?"

"Bleh." She repeats.

Matt groans, rubbing his head.

"Want a head massage?" Y/N asks.

"No. No, you don't feel good either. It's fine." Matt says.

"I want to." Y/N says.

Matt looks her, his girlfriend giving him a look to let her take care of him.

"Okay." He mumbles. "You pick the movie."

Y/N quickly puts Shrek on, quietly humming along to "All Star."

Matt lays down, putting his head on her stomach, his arm wrapping around her waist. Y/N threads her fingers through his hair, combing through his curls for a few moments. She starts to massage his head, Matt letting out a hum of content.

---

The couple spent most of the day watching movies or sleeping. Matt played Fortnite sometimes while Y/N read or scrolled on TikTok.

Y/N is currently in bed, drifting in and out as Matt does whatever.

"Hey." He quietly calls, tucking some hair behind her ear. Y/N hums, opening her eyes just enough to see him. "Nick wants me to film while we're in here. You okay with that?"

"Mm-hmm." Y/N nods with whatever little strength she has.

"Okay. You need anything?" He asks, knowing her whole body has been aching since she woke up. She lightly shakes her head. "Okay. I'm gonna film something right now." He tells her and she gives him a thumbs up. Matt kisses her on the head before going to his desk.

Matt sighs as he starts recording.

"Movies, Fortnite, sleep. Movies, Fortnite, sleep. Movies, Fortnite, sleep." Y/N hears Matt talk to the camera. "I guess we're vlogging on our own. I was told to do this. I got a pounding headache, I don't know what to talk about I'm bored. Um..." He tries to think of what else to say.

As Matt starts to talk about the triplets' different room states, she finally drifts off into a deep sleep.

---

Y/N and Matt are eating, watching 10 Things I Hate About You.

"Does your head still hurt?" Y/N asks.

"A little. Medicine helped." Matt says. "You feel okay?"

"Barely." She mumbles, eating a fry. "Although, I do prefer this over a sore throat, so..." She shrugs.

After finishing, Matt goes to throw the trash out, returning after a few moments. He climbs back into bed, cuddling into Y/N, kissing her head.

"Are you gonna film anything else tonight?" She asks, looking up at him.

"No." He shakes his head. "Not much to vlog about." He chuckles making her weakly laugh. "This is much more relaxing. I'll worry about filming tomorrow."

"M'kay." She mumbles, cuddling more into his chest, his arms tightening around her.

---

Matt woke up feeling a little better, Y/N still feeling awful. She's watching TV while he walks around and films. He walks into the room, putting the camera on his desk.

"I'm gonna go clean the kitchen." Matt tells his girlfriend.

"I can help." She says, sitting up.

"Baby, you sound miserable." Matt frowns.

"I am, but I can still help." Y/N insists, getting out of bed.

"You don't have to." Matt says.

"I want to." She says, sniffing. "And then I wanna shower after. It might help me feel better."

"Okay." Matt nods. He kisses her on the cheek, holding her hand and leading her to the kitchen.

---

The two finish up in the kitchen and Y/N is wiping the fridge down, it being the last thing to be done. Matt comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist.

"Can I shower with you?" Matt asks, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Are you trying to start something? Cause I'm really not in the mood." Y/N says.

"No." Matt softly laughs. "I just need a shower, too. And if we shower together, we don't have to go without cuddles. Plus, I know you like when I wash your hair."

"Okay." Y/N nods. Matt lowers his head, pressing multiple kisses to her neck.

---

Y/N shuffles around as she starts to wake up. She sighs, quickly noticing how only a couple of muscles ache instead of all of them. She reaches around the bed, frowning when it's empty. She lifts her head to look around, watching Matt count and walk back and forth.

"Are you officially losing it?" She asks, giving him a slightly concerned look.

"No." Matt says. "My health app pointed out I had less than 100 steps yesterday."

"And that means..." Y/N trails off.

"That I need to walk today." Matt says. "But I can't go anywhere, so I'm just doing them right here."

"Okay." Y/N mumbles, checking the time.

"Do you feel better?" Matt asks, continuing to count in his head.

"Mm-hmm. Most of my body doesn't hurt anymore. Little congested still." She smiles.

"That's good." Matt says.

"How do feel?" She asks, yawning.

"Better. Kinda stuffy." He says and she nods.

---

Y/N walks into the room after getting a snack to see Matt opening the blinds behind the bed and he's holding the camera in his free hand.

"Oh, the sun is... setting." Matt says. "I got, like, 20 minutes probably." He stares out the window for a few seconds before closing the blinds.

"So you decide to stop at 8 seconds?" Y/N asks.

"Can't say I didn't try." Matt says making Y/N quietly laugh.

---

Y/N lays cuddled into Matt's side, her head resting on his chest as they put Saltburn on. Matt wraps his arm around her, playing with her hair.

"Are you okay with me filming?" Matt asks. "We can stop cuddling while the camera's on."

"No." Y/N shakes her head, wrapping her arm around him. "I don't care."

"You sure?" Matt asks and she nods. She leans her head back, kissing his jaw before focusing back on the movie.

"All right, y'all. Saltburn is being continued right now." Matt tells the camera.

"First note I wanna take, if I ever got called a..." Matt points to the screen as one of the characters talk. "A bootlicker." Matt says. He shakes his head. "It's going down. It's going down immediately."

"Bootlicker." Y/N smirks.

"Absolutely not." Matt says as Y/N giggles. "Nope." He unwraps his arm, pushing her to the other side of the bed.

"Matt." She laughs.

"It is going down." He states, putting the camera down and sitting on his knees.

"No, it's not." Y/N laughs, hitting him with the wood log pillow. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You're not a bootlicker." Y/N says, a few laughs still escaping her.

"That's strike one." Matt warns.

"Okay, honey." Y/N snickers.

---

The two are cuddled back up as they continue the movie. They get to the bathtub scene, Y/N's eyes widening as Barry Keoghan's character starts to slurp the liquid up.

"Ugh." She grimaces.

She glances up at Matt, seeing him stare in horror at the TV.

"I don't even really care about the semen part, I just care about whatever's in that fucking drain." Y/N mutters.

---

Y/N's jaw proceeds to slowly drop as the vampire scene continues. Her nose scrunches up when Oliver puts bloody fingers in his mouth. She grimaces when he smears it on her chest before smearing it on her lips.

Y/N looks away as the characters proceed to have sex, grimacing at the idea of any sort of blood being in her mouth or on her chest.

---

Y/N watches the funeral scene with a small frown on her face, cuddling into Matt more, fighting off her tiredness. She watches Oliver kneel on the grave, sobbing as he lies down.

They both grow a little confused when Oliver takes his shirt off and lays back down.

"Oh, my God." Y/N whispers as Oliver starts to unbuckle his pants and pulls them off. Her jaw drops as he thrusts into the ground, her eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. She glances over at Matt to find his similar look of horror.

"He pulled a Frank Gallagher." Y/N says, earning an erupt giggle from her boyfriend. "Imagine going to visit your dead grandma and you see that." She remarks making Matt laugh more.

---

"Good movie. Crazy concept. Good movie, crazy concept, very strange." Matt says. "Pretty good, though. Very strange. But pretty good."

"Think they got it." Y/N teases.

"Shut it." Matt says, putting his free hand over her mouth, muffling her giggles.

---

Y/N watches Matt do pushups, eating some macaroni and cheese she ordered.

"Can I sit on your back?" She asks as she takes a bite of her food.

"We can test it out." Matt says, lying on his stomach.

Y/N puts her food on the desk before going over to Matt. She carefully sits on his back, crossing her legs.

"This good?" She asks, wanting to make sure she's not hurting him.

"Yeah." He nods. "You ready?"

"Mm-hmm." She nods even though he can't see her.

Matt slowly and carefully pushes himself up, focusing on his breathing, and he lowers himself. He continues to do a few pushups with Y/N on his back before stopping.

"Okay." He mumbles. "I'm tired." He sighs. Y/N pats him on the head before climbing off him and retrieving her macaroni.

"You seem to feel good." Y/N comments.

"I feel great." Matt says making Y/N smile. "And you...?"

"I feel better." Y/N nods.

"It's because I made you walk back and forth." Matt says.

"Okay." Y/N rolls her eyes. She knows he's right, but won't admit it just to bug him. "It's also all the rest and medicine."

"Yeah, whatever." Matt kisses her forehead. "You know I'm right." He grins.

[annwrites]

exactly what he needs, pt. 3 ♡ ⋆｡˚ | pt1 | pt 2

— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader

— type: ficlet (multi-chapter)

— summary: nate takes you shopping at the mall, to dinner, then bowling, before dropping you off at home.

— tags: having a great day with nate, even if he has ulterior motives

— tw: dollification, objectification, sexualization, emotional manipulation, pushing boundaries, guilt-tripping, drinking, eating

— word count: approx. 6.4k

— a/n: i have never been inside a nordstrom in my life, so i have 0 idea what their changing rooms actually look like. | baby-doll dresses | tennis skirt | blush | necklace

GIF by msgorillagripcoochie

Once you and Nate are on the road, he decides to offer you full access to his car's stereo once again—he has an aux cord stored away in the center console, which he'll only offer if you can't figure out how to pair your phone through bluetooth.

There's just something about the idea of his truck being saved in your phone that appeals to him. Hell, maybe he'll get lucky and you'll fuck up, letting it read your calls and texts, too. He wouldn't mind finding out who all you're talking to.

If he's lucky, it'll be people he knows. People he can spin stories to you about to get you to cut them out of your life.

He'd made the mistake with Maddy in letting her have friends. Like Cassie—he didn't need to list the problems she'd caused. Then there was Kat, always her enabling little sidekick. Even Lexi to an extent, who he knows you're also friends with. He supposes as far as female friends to have goes, Lexi is the better one to keep company with, but she's still Cassie's sister.

He knows he'll, in time, need to figure out a way to get rid of her. But that's a problem for future him.

"Would you like to play some music?"

You smooth out the skirt of your dress. "Sure. Do you have a uh-"

"It has bluetooth."

"Oh."

Great, you think, I get to spend the next fifteen minutes looking like an idiot as I fight to get the thing to pair with my cell.

Surprisingly, however, you get it to sync up rather quickly. You scan through your music, now sweating, wondering what song to choose. What if he thinks your taste in music is stupid? Then, you mentally shrug. He can take over at that point if he thinks so.

Eventually, a soft melody begins to drift through the cabin, low enough that it serves simply as pleasant background noise, until Nate reaches over, turning the volume up, making you shrink back in your seat.

You turn the room a shade heaven, and learn my name.

You flush. You shouldn't have chosen a stupid romantic song. You should've chosen anything else.

You look out the window, refusing to sing along like you normally would as the chorus starts.

No one ever will love me better than your everlasting love. I found only one way in and no way out...

You fold your hands in your lap, waiting for the damn song to eventually end.

Finally, once the tempo has faded, Nate turns the radio down.

"Is that one of your favorite songs?"

You glance at him, nodding.

He can tell you're embarrassed, but can't understand why. He thinks it sweet: one of your favorite songs being one about love.

He then wonders if you sing. Perhaps, if so, you'll do so once you're more comfortable being around him like this.

"I liked it."

"Oh, good," you say, still flushed.

He likes how easily he has that effect on you.

"So, where are you wanting to head to?"

You shrug, fumbling with your phone and turning some lofi music on instead now. Nothing with lyrics.

"Wherever you want to go is fine with me."

He likes that: you letting him choose for you. Letting him make a decision for the both of you.

He enjoys how easily agreeable you are today.

He hopes it's due to you feeling comfortable enough with him that you trust him to do so.

"Do you want to eat first, or would you like to go to the mall for a bit?"

You glance at the clock and see that it's only a few minutes past four. "I can wait a couple more hours to eat."

He nods, heading in the direction of the East Highland mall.

Once Nate has parked, he comes around to your side and you nearly slip on the running board, falling against his chest.

He catches you, helping you down.

You look up at him, your face a shade of red. "Sorry. Thanks."

Stupid klutz—should've worn boots, you think.

He shuts the door behind you, quickly locking the vehicle before placing his hand against the small of your back. "No problem."

As you enter the mall, a pair of men leave, glancing at you. Admiring you, from Nate's perspective.

His grip tightens imperceptibly, pulling you the least bit closer to him as he gives the men a nasty look.

Meanwhile, you're oblivious, instead overwhelmed by the sights and sounds and smells, the awful florescent lighting overhead. God, you hate crowds.

You look up to him, just wanting him to pick a store to get you out of the way of everyone milling about. Coming here on a Friday afternoon was a bad idea.

He looks down at you. "Where to first?"

He can see that you're nervous. His brows furrow. "Do crowds make you uneasy?"

You nod, your eyes staring into his, practically screaming for him to get you out of here.

He lets his hand drop to his side, then speaks again. "Do you want to hold my hand?"

You blanch.

Having something—someone—to ground you and lead you through the throngs of people surrounding you sounds nice enough, but what if someone from school is here and sees you? And won't it seem a bit childish? That you're that easily overstimulated that you have to hold another grown-person's hand in a shopping mall?

Just as you're about to tell him no—that you're ok—someone bumps into you, shoving you into his side.

Your hand quickly latches onto his.

Nate twines his fingers between yours.

You don't see the smirk on his face.

Nate leads you into Nordstrom, a store you've never been in before because you know it's far, far out of your price-range, but you don't object as you step inside, the crowds behind you fading away as quiet pop music plays overhead, only a handful of people browsing the racks of clothing.

You look up to him, suddenly unsure of yourself.

"You can look around, if you want."

You release his hand and he already hates the feeling of his palm being empty.

You step over to a rack of midi dresses and your eyes widen when you see a price tag for $120.

Nate keeps close to your side. "Do you like that one?"

He knows he doesn't—hates midi and maxi dresses—but he wants to buy you something today. Anything. He just wants to give you your first real present from him.

He doesn't count him bringing you breakfast everyday for the last week—despite your objections, even if you did always finish it with a grateful 'thank you'—as as much.

You place the dress back where it was hanging, shaking your head. You look up to him. "That dress it over one-hundred dollars. Nate, I can't afford to shop here."

Not unless they have a clearance section, you think. But even then...

Nate steps away from you for a moment, his attention now stolen away by a white babydoll dress with puffy sleeves. Fucking perfect, he thinks.

He grabs it off the high hook which it hangs from—something you'd never be able to reach—and goes to hand it to you.

"Try this on."

You hesitantly take it from him, a confused expression on your face. "Why?"

He shrugs. "I just think it'd look nice on you."

You hold it up to yourself, not liking that it comes up well-above your knees.

"I don't thi-"

"The changing rooms are this way," he says, nodding his head in the direction of the back of the store. He doesn't care to hear you argue. You're trying the dress on. He needs to see it on you.

He'd been picturing you wearing—essentially—that exact dress for over a week now.

He places his palm against your back, leading you to the desired destination.

Once you've reached the back of the store, Nate opens a wooden door to one of the changing areas and just stares at you, waiting for you to enter.

Finally, you sigh, stepping in.

"I'll be waiting right out here," he says before closing the door behind you.

You stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment, realizing just how different—how little—you look like yourself right now. But you consider it, perhaps, a good thing: forcing yourself out of your comfort zone, even just a little.

You'd been considering finally wearing the sundress that Nate had picked out for you for a few weeks now. It was nice of him to compliment it—you. You aren't entirely sure how you feel about your hair being down, however.

Finally, you hang the dress up that he'd handed you, deciding to get undressed. The sooner you've tried it on, the sooner you can be out of this over-priced boutique.

Nate sits in a chair directly outside of your changing room, watching your legs shift from one foot to the other, until, finally, your sundress pools at your feet.

His cock hardens, knowing just a few feet away is your half-naked body. He leans back, waiting a minute, then two, then he stands.

He gently knocks on the door and you jolt in surprise.

"Y-yes?"

"Do you have it on?"

"Yes..."

"May I come in? I'd like to see."

You balk. He wants to come into the changing room with you? Is that even allowed?

"Isn't that against some sort of policy?"

He likes how much of a good girl you are—no, fuck it, loves it—but in this moment his patience is wearing real fucking thin. "No one else is out here," he replies as gently as he can.

A beat of silence, and then the lock on the door handle clicks.

He quickly enters the changing room, promptly taking in every inch of you.

You look just how he had imagined you would.

You don't meet his eyes. "I look so stu-"

"Perfect," he interrupts.

You look up to him. "What? Really?"

He studies you for a moment, your wide innocent eyes staring up at him, waiting for him to answer.

He runs his fingers through the hair draped over your shoulder. He then runs his hand along that same shoulder down your upper arm, where it comes to rest. "Yes. I just wish you could see what I do."

You blink up at him, then sniffle.

"Are you crying?" He nearly cringes. That question had come out a bit more harsh than he'd meant for it to. He'd wanted you emotionally vulnerable numerous times for the last week so he could finally find a way in, and now here it is. He prays he didn't just fuck it up.

You nod. "I'm sorry. I'm just...no one has ever been this nice to me."

He almost breathes a sigh of relief. He hadn't hurt your feelings.

So that's all it's going to take with you: a few kind gestures, some nice words, a few soft touches, and you'd be like putty in his hands. His to mold as he pleases.

This was what being alone for so long had done to you: made you desperate for affection—of any kind.

You step a bit closer to him, unsure of yourself, unsure what you're doing or even why.

When he doesn't move, you press yourself against his broad chest, taking him completely by surprise.

Fine with being alone his ass. That entire statement had been utter bullshit. Not even you understand just how lonely you are.

Finally, he wraps one arm around you, holding you close, his other hand slipping into your hair, massaging your scalp.

You remain quiet, just focusing on his breathing, the beat of his heart, his warmth. When was the last time someone had held you like this? Hugged you? Shown you any form of affection or attention?

You'd truly thought you were fine without it.

Meanwhile, Nate's head is racing. God, you'd shown him just in this action alone just how easy it was going to be to manipulate you. A couple of compliments had nearly brought you to tears? Just wait until the two of you are in a relationship. No, starting tonight he'll begin pouring it on heavier.

But once you two are together? He'll fucking suffocate you with gifts and attention and love. And above all: sex. That will be his weapon. You're inexperienced. Know nothing about it. A few orgasm denials and Lexi will be long-gone from your life.

Then he'll no longer have to worry about the risk of her relaying stories of he and Cassie, or he and Maddy to you. Won't have to worry about his occasional shitty behavior toward them coming to light, driving—no, taking—you away from him.

If you ever find out about the choking incident...it'll be over before it ever begins.

He feels you snuggle the least bit closer to him and he briefly glances to the mirror to the side of both of you. He sees that your eyes are closed and your cheeks are flushed.

Finally, he pulls away and you look up at him, shame filling your features. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I-"

He gently grips your chin. "I didn't mind."

"Oh." It's the only reply you have. It feels inappropriate—being here with him like this. You're in a changing room together, for God's sake. You'd tutored numerous people before and never had you ever spent any amount of time with any of them outside of school.

But Nate is different. You tutor him in private, whereas all the rest had been at school or in public. There'd never been a chance at friendship with any of them. You'd convinced yourself that it was something you didn't need in the first place anyway. Told yourself you were better off alone.

High school is temporary, along with the friends that come with it. No point in getting attached to someone who won't be sticking around.

You know all too well about abandonment.

Nate will probably be just like all the rest.

You take a step back. "I should probably change."

"I never got to see the whole dress. Can you turn for me?"

You pause. "Like... Twirl?"

He crosses his arms, just staring at you.

Finally, you begin to slowly turn until you're facing him once again. "Ta-da,"you say nervously.

He turns toward the door, placing his hand over the handle. "It looks really cute on you, just so you know."

While you're busy changing, Nate quickly returns to the rack from earlier, grabbing the same dress you were currently taking off, along with another one, but in light blue. He then spots a pink tennis skirt and grabs it as well, with a matching flowy top. He takes all the items up front, to a register.

When you exit the changing room, you see Nate straight ahead, standing just outside the store.

You come up to him, glancing down to the shopping bag in his hand, then up to him with a concerned impression. Surely he didn't...

He shrugs. "Just something for my mom."

You smile, feeling relieved. "That's very sweet of you, to get something for her."

He just offers you his hand again, which you take after a moment.

As the two of you wander around, mostly window-shopping, you try to ignore just how nice it feels to be holding someone else's hand. To be touched at all. You briefly wonder if he thinks you pathetic now, after what happened in the changing room.

You glance up to him. "Nate?"

"Hm?"

"You're sure it didn't bother you?"

He doesn't need you to elaborate to know what you're referring to. He likes that you're insecure and emotionally fragile. Broken pieces in the palms of his hands.

That had been another issue with Maddy—she'd been too independent, too confident, too secure and comfortable with herself. Whereas Cassie had known what he wanted and had tried to mold herself into it, all in some attempt to keep him interested.

But you? You're clueless to the ways of men. You're just...you. Intelligent, book only in a book-smart sort of way. Sweet—so fucking sweet it makes his teeth ache. Quiet, and reserved—prim and proper and meek.

And he'd thought it before and would again—so. fucking. innocent. You have no idea the power you already have over him. And he wants it to stay that way. Wants to be the one in complete control this time around, without being given permission to be, like Cassie had given him.

She'd told him what she had wanted: him to choose her clothes, what she eats, to decide who she could talk to—the list went on and on. Because she had clocked him from day one—the type of guy he was—that he was desperate for control.

With you, it will be gradual, insidious manipulation until he's all you have left in your life to turn to. Until, one day, you look up, and everything is different and you have no goddamn idea how you've gotten to where you are.

He stops walking, still keeping your hand firmly in his, incase you decide to wander. "Not at all."

"I don't..." you shift nervously. "I don't know what happened. I'm not usually like that. I don't get emotional in front of other people, like, ever."

He gives you a kind smile. "It's ok, really. I just don't think you're used to it."

"What?"

"Kindness. Someone wanting to give you their attention and time. You don't have to worry, I still like hanging out with you."

You look down and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze.

"Good," you reply.

The two of you stop in at Sephora, and while you browse their lipglosses, Nate steps away, looking through their selection of blushes, until he finds a soft pink shade that he likes and he takes it up, quickly paying for it, and placing the small bag within the larger Nordstrom one. One more gift for you.

When you leave the cosmetic store, you excuse yourself to the restroom, and he goes into the Tiffany store next door, browsing their necklace collection, until he spots one that he deems perfect for you: silver, with a small diamond pendant hanging from it. He doesn't even bother looking at the price tag when he asks an employee to retrieve the item from a glass case and box it up for him.

He's waiting for you when you exit the restroom.

He takes your hand in his, not bothering to let you make the gesture this time.

"Hungry?"

You nod.

Nate, though he doesn't want to, bothers with asking where you'd like to go to eat as he watches you buckle yourself in—wishing you'd let him do that himself, but knows him taking such an extreme measure for your safety this early will do nothing more than freak you out.

You shrug. "I don't go out much, so I'm not sure what all is around here. You can choose, if you'd like?"

He smiles, unsure the last time he felt so happy and in-control as he shuts your door.

Nate takes you to a rather expensive bistro, perhaps twenty minutes away from the mall, his right hand itching to wedge itself between your bare thighs as he drives, but he doesn't dare touch you. Not yet. The only thing he has to keep himself in-check right now is the surety that, soon enough, you'll be all his to do with as he pleases.

Every inch of you.

When Nate comes around to your side of the truck, after he's opened your door, he takes things a step further this time, gripping both of your hips, helping you down. As he sets you on your feet again, before you can say a word, he speaks. "Didn't want to risk you tripping again."

He adjusts your dress and your hair, then takes your hand firmly in his as he leads the two of you inside.

You immediately feel regret in him bringing you here. You should've told him literally anywhere else, so long as it was cheaper.

The rustic décor alone screams pretentious. And you know the menu will be even worse.

But just as you think to tug on his arm and ask him to take you elsewhere, a hostess greets the two of you, leading you to a table in a corner near a window.

Nate pulls out your seat for you, scooting you in, then seating himself.

You both pick up menus, and you're thankful your face is hidden by yours when you see the outrageous pricing.

You can barely afford a small salad here.

"Have you been here before?" You ask, still hidden by your menu.

"Mhm, their food is pretty good. I thought you might like it."

Unless it's dipped in gold, it can't be worth what they're charging is what you want to say. Instead, you remain silent.

Finally, your server arrives. An older woman, with red curly hair, freckles, and a curvaceous figure greets the two of you with a smile. "Do you two know what you'd like to drink?"

Nate looks at you.

"Water, thank you."

She nods.

"It'll be one check, and a diet coke."

She nods again, leaving the two of you to each other.

You look at him, now panicking...just a bit. "You don't have to pay for me. It's fine, really, I-"

He lifts his menu, glad that it apparently works in getting you to be quiet about his spending money on you. Again.

You'd already freaked out enough over him bringing you breakfast for three days in a row, until the fourth when you finally ate in silence.

"I told you I was taking you to dinner. It was my idea to bring you here, so it's only fair that I pay."

You cross your legs at the ankle, unsure how to feel about that.

You simply lift your menu again, now even more unsure of what to get.

He sets his menu down, seeing that you're now hidden behind your own once again. "I know their choices can seem a bit overwhelming the first time you come here. Would you like me to order for you?"

You lower your menu. "You're sure?"

He gives a slight nod of confirmation.

It's then that your waitress returns with your drinks and you stay silent, sipping on ice water as Nate orders dinner for both of you.

As you wait for your penne alla vodka—all you know is that it's some sort of pasta—Nate stretches out his long legs under the table on either side of your chair.

"I've had a really nice time with you today," he says, a soft look in his eyes.

You wrap your sweaty hands around your cold glass. You smile. "Me too."

He crooks his head slightly to the side. "Would you like to go bowling after this?"

Your brows raise. "You want to?"

He nods. "I do if you do."

You glance out the window for a moment. "I'm not sure the last time I went bowling. I think when I was really little."

He leans forward, foot brushing against one of yours completely on purpose, so as to pull your attention back to him. "So is that a yes?"

You blush. "I guess so."

Nate glances up to you every few moments from his steak and rice, watching as you take small bites of your pasta.

"Do you like it?"

You quickly grab your napkin, wiping your lips. You nod, swallowing. "It's really good. You chose well for me. Thank you."

He smiles, his foot "accidentally" brushing against your leg again. "You're welcome, sweetheart."

You grow quiet again at the pet name, taking another bite of your meal.

Once the two of you have finished your dinner, Nate pays the check from his phone before standing, throwing two twenty-dollar bills on the table—you're impressed that he tips so generously—then pulling your chair out for you.

He twines his fingers between yours before leading you back out to the truck.

Once Nate has paid for a game of bowling for the two of you, you both go to your designated spot. You sit to put on the pair of hideous bowling shoes you've been given, until Nate sits on the small table in front of you, grabbing your foot and resting it atop his knee as he slips the shoe on your foot, tying the laces.

You laugh nervously. "I can do that."

He merely glances up to you, before doing the same with your other foot.

Once you feel well and truly like you have on a pair of clown shoes, you go first...and miss every single pin.

Nate stands behind you laughing. "It was a good try."

He'd not actually bothered watching you play, he'd instead watched as you'd bended over slightly, getting a brief flash of your pink panties before you released the heavy bowling ball.

You go to sit down. "Shut up," you say, clearly embarrassed.

Nate goes next...and of course gets a strike on the first try.

You tell yourself not to pout; that you're not a competitive person by nature.

"I'm just rusty is all."

"Mhm," he replies with a knowing smirk before leaning down, hands planted on either side of you. "I'm going to get a drink. Want anything?"

You glance behind you at the concessions, looking over their menu. Meanwhile, Nate looks you over. Your neck, which he wants to lick and kiss and leave hickies all over to mark you as his. Then down your dress at the swell of your breasts...which he wants to do the same to. Then your thighs that he wants to shove his face between.

When you finally look back at him, you jump, seeing that he's still looking right at you. "Oh, uh, maybe just a water?"

He reaches up, brushing some hair out of your face. "Not hungry?"

You shake your head. "I'm still full from dinner."

Right. Dinner.

"I thought at least some cotton candy," he replies, before walking away.

You're left sitting there, wondering what that was supposed to have meant.

When Nate returns, it's with two Budweisers and a bottle of water, which he hands to you.

You stare at the extra bottle he sets on the table as he twists the top off of the other one, taking a swig of it.

"Is that smart?"

He looks at you with a raised brow. "Hm?"

"Drinking...since you're driving?"

He smirks. "It takes a lot more than two beers to get me drunk, Y/N. But if it makes you that uncomfortable, you can always drive us back."

He's not sure how he feels about letting you drive his truck, in truth. He'd never let Maddy, and sure as hell not Cassie behind the wheel. He was more-so offering to see if you'd let on whether you know how to drive or not.

And he gets his answer, just like he was wanting.

"I...I don't know how."

He sits on the same table from earlier, your legs between both of his knees.

"Not at all?"

You shake your head, feeling a bit ashamed of the admittance. "No one has ever exactly been around to teach me."

You're no longer looking at him now, so you don't see the frown on his lips.

"I could teach you."

Your head jerks up. "That's probably not a good idea."

He takes another sip of his beer. "Why not?"

"What if...what if I hit something with your truck, or damage it?"

"I have insurance."

You nearly roll your eyes. "Ok, what if I hit a person?"

He notices your lip twitch, trying to fight a smile.

He grins. "It has a big bed."

You laugh and so does he. God, being with you is so easy.

He holds out the bottle to you. "Do you want a drink?"

You consider it for a moment, then of course shake your head. "No, thank you."

"Have you ever even drank before?"

You don't want to give him the answer to that either. "No."

"Really?" He asks, a bit of surprise to his tone—even if he isn't actually surprised at all. If it's 'bad' for you, he's sure you've never done it before.

You nod, feeling like a total fucking square. "How did they even give it to you in the first place?"

He stands, briefly removing his wallet from his back pocket and he hands you his fake ID.

"Oh."

"I can get you one made, if you want?"

You shake your head, handing it back to him. "I'm ok."

He likes you innocent and unknowing, but he isn't used to someone being so...within the lines. He can't tell whether he wants to corrupt you or not. Perhaps he'll just start with doing so in bed and go from there when the time comes.

Once he has you daydreaming about his cock, he'll move onto bigger targets.

He puts his wallet back away, then jerks his head back toward the bowling alley. "Your turn, sweetheart."

Halfway through the game, you get your first strike and you squeal in delight, causing a smile to breakout across Nate's face.

You jump up and down, then run toward him and he catches you in his arms just in time as you wrap your legs around his waist, only spilling a little of his beer. "I did it!"

He laughs, loving seeing you so fucking happy for just one moment.

"I see that, baby."

You're so pleased with yourself that you barely even catch the new term-of-endearment he's given you.

You look down at him, your hair falling over his face as he looks up at you. "Sorry, that was exciting," you say with a laugh.

One arm firmly holds you up, under you bottom, while the other comes up to cup your cheek. "I like seeing you happy like this. You don't smile nearly enough."

He should really make more of an effort to get you drunk before the two of you leave. He has a feeling you're a happy one, and if he's extra lucky—all the alcohol will go straight between your legs.

You beam at him again, trying to prove him wrong, and all he wants is to kiss you until you can't breathe.

Finally, he lowers you back to your feet and you sit, now excited, as he takes his turn again.

You skip through the parking lot, your hand in his, completely elated at having won.

And to your knowledge, it was fair and square.

Even if Nate knows otherwise.

He'd offered to buy another game, but you'd told him you were starting to get tired, so he'd agreed to take you home, even if he wanted to stay out with you all night. Preferably in the back seat of his truck with your clothes off and lying underneath him as he explores your soft, sensitive body.

Instead, you sit in the passenger seat, all smiles and giggles as he drives you back home.

He's in enough of a good mood himself that he turns up the radio, some song with thumping bass coming through the speakers, as he rolls the windows down, the warm summer night air blowing your hair.

Nate, now actually nervous—afraid he's about to ruin everything—reaches over, resting his palm over your bare knee.

You don't push it away. Instead, you simply glance at it for a moment, feeling something...something you're not sure how to describe at the sight of him touching you like that, and then lean back, content to leave his hand right where it is.

And so he does. The entire drive back to your place.

It doesn't matter how desperately he wants to, he doesn't move it any higher.

Once he's pulled into your driveway, he removes his hand, your leg now feeling cold, and kills the engine. You unbuckle yourself and turn toward him. "I know we said it earlier, but I had a really nice time tonight. Thank you, for dinner and bowling and just...today."

He reaches up, running his fingers through your now-tangled hair. "It was my pleasure. Maybe we can do it again sometime?"

You nod, smiling. "I'd like that."

He wants to lean across the console and kiss you, but once again tells himself no. Something he's quickly tiring of having to do.

He glances out the windshield. "I'll walk you to the door."

He retrieves the Nordstrom bag from the backseat before coming around to your side, holding it behind his back as he offers you his hand to help you down.

Nate walks you to your door, watching as you unlock it. He wishes you'd just come back to his house instead, but doesn't dare suggest as much. He'd rather you sleep in his bed with him than stay in this empty house where you're not safe on your own.

Even if he'd made sure you were a couple night this last week when he parked across the street, a couple houses down, pistol in his glovebox. Just incase.

You look up to him with a shy smile. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he replies, handing you the shopping bag.

Your brows furrow. "I thought this was for your mom?"

He shrugs. "I lied. I wanted to buy you something all day, but knew if I asked, you'd tell me no. This way was easier."

You're not sure how to feel about the fact he'd lied to you so easily. Had made—most likely, if the brand-name on the bag is any indication—a rather expensive purchase for you. You're just not sure why.

Before you can bother asking, he plants a quick kiss to the top of your head. "Hope you like it," he says before heading back to his truck.

Once you're inside and in your room, you immediately start pulling out the contents from the bag and setting them on your bed. Your heartrate only rises with each item. A small bag from Sephora, another one from Tiffany, and four clothing items from Nordstrom—one being the dress he'd asked you to try on.

You feel lightheaded at the price tags on the clothing. But when you look in the Tiffany bag—pull out the jewelry box and open it, you sit down on the edge of your bed.

A diamond necklace.

"Nate..." you whisper to yourself in a panicked voice, wondering what had gotten into him to think that this is ok.

Surely...surely this item is meant for his mom. He'd just accidently thrown it in with everything else.

You pick up your phone with shaking hands, drop it, then pick it back up once again and call him.

"Hey, everything okay? I'm not too far away. I can turn back arou-"

You shake your head, despite the fact he can't see it. "The...the necklace for your mom, you accidentally put it in with-"

"I didn't get it for my mom. Everything there was purchased for you."

You go quiet suddenly, forcing Nate to check that you're even still on the line. He waits for you to respond.

"Nate, I don't know that I feel comfortable with this."

He slams on the brakes, pulling off to the side of the road, throwing the truck in park. "With what?"

"It...it'd be one thing if you'd bought me some cheap keychain or t-shirt or something. But all of this...do I even want to know how much this necklace costs?"

"Probably not," he replies, nonchalantly. Even if he wants to tell you that it was over a grand.

You hang your head, pinching the bridge of your nose. "You don't need to buy me stuff to try and repay me for tutoring you. I do it for free because I like helping people."

"I didn't do it for that."

"Then why?"

How to say, without alarming you: it makes my dick hard spoiling and spending obscene amounts of money on you?

"I just wanted to give you a few nice things. That's all."

"Nate, I don't-"

"Listen, do you want to repay me?"

You go quiet again. Meanwhile, he wants to say, if you say yes: then do it in sexual favors, starting with letting me wrap you hair around my fist as I face-fuck you.

"How?"

"Enjoy it. Wear the white dress and necklace to school on Monday." He wants to throw in the blush, but doesn't, hoping you'll decide to use that all on your own.

You lay back on your bed. "It's all very nice and pretty, and I appreciate it immensely. But-"

"Do you want me to turn around and come get it?" His tone is now the slightest bit annoyed. "If you don't like it, you can tell me. You're not going to hurt my feelings. I'm sorry, I guess I fucked up."

You feel guilty now somehow. Like you're being ungrateful. Even if you hadn't asked for any of it. Maybe...maybe this is what Nate thinks you have to do to make friends: buy their affection?

When you grow up wealthy like he has, you reason, it makes sense.

"No, I'm sorry." Your voice is soft and gentle and feminine now, and he relaxes, his grip on his phone loosening.

You don't even realize it, but his sudden shift in mood had been so imperceptible that it had scared you.

All you do know is that you somehow feel wrong, but you're not sure how, exactly. So, you just brush it off and blame it on being tired. Blame it on anything but him.

"I'm just...I'm not used to people buying me gifts. It's very sweet of you. Thank you," you say as you lightly run your fingers over the soft material of the white dress he wants you to wear in a couple of days.

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

You're not sure how to feel about the pet names, either, but don't want to hurt his feelings again, so you ignore your discomfort.

"I'm going to go take a shower and throw my new clothes in the washer. Be safe driving home. Goodnight...again," you say it with a small laugh.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

[skullcfusher]

When u tlked about the toby n kate HCs u gave us Kate angst HCs do u have any toby angst HCS I'm obsessed w sibling relationship kate toby its the best 100 percent

Ok I tried typing out a huge thing but it's not letting me post that SOOO you're getting the short version, if anyone is interested in a long version dm me or smth idk BUT here they are

Toby struggles like crazy with masculinity, vulnerability and authority figures, between his father smacking him around and verbally abusing him, the bullies not only at school when he was there but actually trailing to his neighborhood and any time they could find him and all of the neighbors and older folk who saw what was happening but stayed silent, he felt crazy weak, especially when most of the things Frank said to him were always related to him not being man enough in some way, and it didn't help that Toby was a scrawny boy because food was hard to come by, it's not like he was starving by any means but they were kinda just getting by. This follows into his proxy life, always having to be stronger than everyone else in the room, killing people in horrific ways to show his strength and pushing himself to an extent to show that no one should fuck with him. Toby was born into a dog eat dog world but now the point he's at, all of the other dogs aren't hungry but he's still eating even if he's full. No one is trying to hurt him, don't get me wrong not a whole lot of creeps like him all that much but no one is looking to hurt him, but he can't fathom that. He has to fight, no matter how tired he is of fighting, he just doesn't recognize a world outside of that and it scares him. The only being he can't fight is slender, he's horrified of slender because slender has the capability to make that boy feel pain, not in the sense he can just flip the switch and he feels everything now but he can give Toby the most earth shattering, mouth frothing, skin peeling headaches. It's not just some small shit, Toby's feeling throat curdling pain for the first time, if feels like he's burying his own axe into his head. Punishment is bad for all proxies, but this shit is really new to Toby, Tim and Brian usually have to leave when Toby goes under cause they can't stand to hear him when he screams and thrashes he doesn't just fall to the ground and scream either he bites and rips his skin off and throws shit and gets fuckin crazy, Kate tries to stay and comfort but Toby pushes her away, he can't let her take care of him like that he's supposed to be able to handle it how can he not be able to handle something the rest can

Ok that's all for now I think, just cause I'm trying to make it short but if u want more or have any questions or even requests for other creeps I'm SOOOO OPEN I love answering shit

[yanderederee]

I love your work and your whole blog is just so amazing! I would like to request letter A for Baji from Tokyo revengers. Thank you, have a nice day dear! :)

This one’s going to be longer than normal— sue me. Read more cause it’s long

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Baji Keisuke is a very intense person. When he feels strongly about a person, it’s hard not to notice. He goes out of his way to give Pah’s dog extra attention when he’s away, carries Mikey to and from places when he falls asleep randomly— everyone feels at ease when they’re with Baji because he is a safe person that they know they can trust.

So for his significant other; of course he’ll show his affections openly. Though it may look like less like romantic affection than it would a doting mother (does that make sense?)

Baji will wholeheartedly take care of you.

You have a stomach ache in public? He rubs your back and finds a place for you to sit, or takes you home immediately if you want. Even if he’s not entirely sure how to fix your issues, he’s dutiful in the way he cares for you.

Order something you don’t like at a restaurant? You got two options, you two can swap meals (because he doesn’t care what he eats as long as you’re happy), or he’ll order a safer option for you.

Can’t sleep? He’ll be half delirious, but he’ll stay on the phone with you and let you chat while he mumbles back replies to make you feel better. Battery might be shot tomorrow but he only uses it to stay in touch with you anyway.

Leaning into romantic affection: not so much into the casual stuff like hand holding (he’s a little squirrelly and gets frustrated if his arm is locked down for too long), but loves looping his arm over your shoulder and holding you close to him at all times. It’s more than showing people you belong to him, it’s also the comfort having you near brings him.

If he’s sitting and getting stir crazy, he’ll play with your fingers. It eventually becomes a fidget of his so he doesn’t realize he does it, but everyone else does.

Likes cuddles, specially holding you. He loves feeling you wrapped up in his arms and pressed into his neck. He could get lost in thought and lay there for hours thinking of all the things he adores about you.

If you fall asleep, he’ll stare at your face; gently pat your hair or trace your features… he’s star stuck thinking about you.

Also shows his affection in protecting you. Can not stand when other people waste your time. If you’re enjoying the conversation then sure, he’ll endure. But if you show any sign of fatigue or annoyance, he’s quick to swoop in and come up with an excuse to get yall going.

That goes for his own friends too. If anyone so much as gives a backhanded comment about you, (I.e: she’s leeching all of your time Baji/Cant you go anywhere without her?/she’s fine but I don’t like having her around/etc), he goes off. There was nothing fucking wrong with you and if you were content being by his side, then he would happily keep you there.

“Fuck you say? Ain’t no one ask you, so keep your shit shut.” He can get really aggressive with his language and dialect, don’t try fighting him further than that, it will end in fists and blood.

Speaking of, is happy to beat the shit out of anyone for you. There’s not a lot that is beneath him. (More on this @/Blood) He doesn’t hit girls, but he will pull their hair and scream in their face for a long time until they get the picture to not mess with you.

Overall: Baji only becomes an intense yandere if other people get involved. If it’s just the two of you, he’s extremely doting and careful with you, but does his best not to stir you into complex feelings that might cause you to leave him.

[pascalispretty]

the girls next door - part one

Joel Miller x F! Reader x Tess Servopoulos

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Dead Dove, Do Not Eat. No Outbreak AU. Stepcest/stepmom Tess, dad's best friend Joel, infidelity, voyeurism, mommy kink, humiliation, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, porn, masturbation, smoking, age gap, rough sex, hair pulling

Summary: Unable to sit still in his newly-empty nest, Joel Miller goes for a moonlit walk. On his way home, he stumbles across you, your stepmother, and your biggest secret. Joel finds himself powerless to look away, or get the girls next door off his mind. (Masterlist | ao3)

Beta'd by @jennispunk, enabled by @misscharlielulu. Constructive criticism welcome!

Joel knows it’s a terrible habit. He’s made so many promises that he’ll never do it again, but with Sarah officially moved out for college, the temptation was too strong. He tugs on a jacket and finds the hidden packet of cigarettes tucked into a kitchen drawer, before opening the sliding door and stepping out into the cool night.

One of his favourite things about his new neighbourhood was the park that the house backed onto. Being able to move Sarah into a bigger house, with a pretty park right on her doorstep, had been one of his proudest moments. He still remembers the look on her face the first time he brought her here, and showed her the garden that was just begging for a soccer goal to be installed. He crosses the backyard quickly, letting himself out of the gate at the back of his property and into the park.

Joel pauses on the edge of the treeline to light his cigarette, and starts to stroll, with no particular direction in mind. It’s become a way to wind down on a Friday at the end of the work-week; a stroll in the park, a cigarette, a few beers when he came home. The trees are thick at this end of the park – he rarely encounters anyone on his strolls. Sometimes he calls Tommy, or Sarah; sometimes he just wanders through the trees ‘til he feels less tense. There’s no Sarah anymore to take to the movies or help with homework, and it’s taking some adjustment.

Tonight, he walks almost all the way to the creek before turning back on himself. He’s nearly back home, walking past his next-door-neighbour’s house, when something sharp jabs into his foot. It’s hard enough that he feels it even through his boot, and the sudden burst of pain makes him stumble. Cursing under his breath, he rests a hand against the tall fence, trying to peer at the ground in the darkness for any nails or broken-off sticks.

A flash of movement beyond the fence catches his eye. He looks through a gap in the wood, and finds himself swallowing hard, not quite believing what he’s seeing. The lights are on in the sitting room, and he can see into the space thanks to the glass doors that open onto the patio. He can see Tess sitting on the couch.

Tess moved in next door with her husband a few years ago, and a step-daughter that came and went sporadically from college. Given that Joel considers his neighbour one of his best friends, he definitely shouldn’t be staring at his wife like this.

She’s naked, gloriously bared to his hungry eyes. And, kneeling between her legs, is a woman who seems to be devouring her pussy with all the enthusiasm Joel himself would devote to the task of pleasuring Tess.

Joel can’t look away. Tess always looks so put-together, something that has made him idly wonder before how delicious it would be to take her apart. He has his answer now – it would be glorious. She looks like something his teenaged brain would have conjured up. Her light brown hair shines under the soft lamplight. Her head is tossed back, one of her hands groping desperately at one of her own tits. Her other hand is buried in the other woman’s hair, holding her close as her mouth opens in a silent moan.

Something in the back of his mind tells him that he shouldn’t be watching this. That he should leave and forget what he’s seen. Joel ignores it, stuffing that tiny voice of reason down until he can’t hear it anymore. He steps closer to the fence, pressing his body against the unforgiving wood.

The woman naked on her knees in front of Tess – he assumes it’s a woman, with the hair and the curves – is a mystery to him. He’d never imagined Tess would stray, much less that she’d be into women. Something about the mystery girl tugs at his brain, but he doesn’t have the brain capacity to explore that thought. Not when he can feel himself getting harder as he watches.

Joel idly presses his palm against his crotch. There’s no harm in watching, he assures himself. They’ll never even know he was here.

He watches raptly as Tess gets closer to coming. The hand she has at her breast gets more frantic, pinching and pulling roughly at the nipple. Joel’s cock strains against the denim of his jeans, and he squeezes himself. He has enough sense left to know that he can’t jerk off out here in the trees, though he’s not sure he’d be able to look away even if they all spontaneously ignited around him.

Tess must almost be there; he can see her moving her hips harder against the other woman’s face. Joel squeezes himself just a little tighter, trying to memorise all of the details of the sight in front of him. The arch of Tess’ back, the heave of her chest, the way her heels are pressed against the other woman’s shoulder blades. He barely breathes himself as he watches Tess come – her mouth open in a cry he can’t hear, her lithe body held taut and then relaxing all at once. Joel can feel his pulse roaring in his ears as he watches, finding himself feeling desperate to be the one on his knees in front of her.

The woman on her knees starts to move just as he thinks it, and some madness tells Joel that she’s moving to make room for him. She’s not, of course. He can see Tess’ mouth moving, talking to the other woman. She reaches for something on the couch beside her: it takes Joel a moment to realise it’s a strap-on harness, a big-looking cock attached to it. He’s never seen one outside of porn, and he wonders what other toys Tess might have, stashed away next door.

His nose is starting to hurt, pressed so tightly against the wood of the fence, but he can’t look away now. He watches as Tess stands, the woman at her feet helping her step into the harness and secure it around her hips. Once it’s securely fastened, the other woman stands and turns to get comfortable on the couch.

The realisation hits Joel like a lightning strike. It’s not some mystery stranger with Tess.

It’s her stepdaughter.

****

“On your hands and knees, kitten,” Tess orders, and you hasten to obey. Your face and fingers are sticky with her slick, and you can’t resist the urge to lick your fingers clean as you kneel on the couch. You’ll never get enough of the taste of her, that tangy sweetness that drives you wild. One of Tess’ hands finds the nape of your neck, pressing you down towards the couch cushions. It won’t be pretty if she has to remind you again.

Reluctantly, you remove your fingers from your mouth with a pop, and prop yourself up on your elbows. Behind you, Tess grips one of your hips, adjusting the tilt of them until your ass sticks out to her liking. You feel lightheaded with anticipation, your cunt clenching around nothing as you wait for Tess to act.

“God, look at you. You’re such an insatiable little slut.” Tess says, her hand leaving your hip. Before you can whine at the loss of her touch, the blunt head of the cock she’s wearing presses against your soaked folds. You choke on your own breath as she rubs it teasingly against your entrance, letting you feel just how thick it is.

“It’s- ‘s so big, Mommy,” you whimper, your nails digging into the couch cushions. Tess has always enjoyed bigger toys, and you’ve always enjoyed the challenge. But it’s been a few weeks since you’ve attempted to take anything this big without any prep at all.

“You can take it,” Tess says dismissively. “You always do.” It’s faint praise – it’s barely praise at all – but it makes you preen nevertheless. “I’m not spending time lubing it up when you’re already this drenched.”

“I love eating you out; can’t help that it makes me so wet,” you manage, a little too dreamily given the circumstances. You hear a fond chuckle behind you from Tess.  

“You love eating anyone out, you little whore. A glory hole for lesbians would be your dream come true.” Before you can try to think up any kind of comeback, Tess notches the thick cockhead of the toy against your cunt and starts to push.

The stretch is intense, even just from the tip. Your hips twitch from the effort of taking it. Your inner muscles burn, struggling to yield to the relentless push of the thick silicone. Even so, you can’t help rocking back on it, some animal part of you just needing to take it deeper.

Tess’ manicured fingernails dig sharply into the flesh of your hips, and a moan spills out of your mouth. She rocks her hips in short, violent thrusts that make you quiver, bottoming out so hard that you arch your back and yowl like a cat in heat.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you gasp out, breath shuddering. “You always pick the best toys.”

“I always know what you need,” Tess says, her fingertips trailing down your spine as she grinds her hips against the curve of your backside. It forces the toy just that much deeper inside you, and you whimper helplessly. Even the delicate touch of her fingers on your back is overwhelming you right now, making you feel like your skin can’t contain the molten heat building inside you.

Rather than setting the brutal pace you’d expected, Tess withdraws the toy so slowly it feels like it’s moving a millimetre at a time. It lets you appreciate its size, and you swear you can feel the thick ridges meant to stimulate veins. She stops when only the very tip is left inside you, the firm hand on your hip telling you not to try fucking back onto it this time.

“Look at you.” It sounds like praise, but the tone is laced with a condescension that makes you squirm. “That greedy little cunt is trying to pull it back in, isn’t it? All those muscles working to try and get you stuffed full again.” One of Tess’ fingers dips down to trace your flesh where it splits around the cock, and your knees nearly give out.

“Please, Mommy, I need it.” You sound utterly pathetic. Some perverse part of you loves that feeling, the twist of humiliation in your gut. You’ve long since learned not to question why, not when simply enjoying the ride is much more fun. Tess makes an amused noise behind you, her nails scratching the curve of your ass as she adjusts her grip.

You’re expecting her to ask you to beg more. Instead, she pulls your hips back hard, filling you completely with one smooth motion. It makes you sob, the feeling of being so exquisitely full making your head spin. Tess pulls back barely an inch before giving another brutal thrust.

“I know, kitten. No thoughts in that pretty head of yours beyond getting fucked, are there?”

“No, ‘s not true,” you choke out before another hard thrust cuts you off. Even as you try to deny it, your walls clamp down harder on the toy inside you.

“Alright, getting fucked and playing with other pretty pussies. Nothing but cunt on the brain either way.” Tess’ nails dig harder into your flesh, doubtless leaving little crescent marks that will make such a lovely constellation on your skin. She uses the grip she has to set a brutal pace, one that leaves you gasping for air. The wooden frame of the couch creaks a little alarmingly under the force of her thrusts, but it’s practically drowned out by the slap of her hips against your ass and the obscene sound of the silicone cock plunging in and out of your soaked cunt.

Your elbows no longer support your weight, and your torso collapses down onto the couch cushions. The motion of Tess’ hips makes your nipples rub against the leather, just one more thing adding to the complete sensory overload. Somehow you want more, more of whatever it is Tess is willing to give you. You rest your head against a pillow and pant out a ‘mommy’ with every hard stroke of Tess’ silicone cock, revelling in masochistic bliss.

****

Out by the fence, Joel crowds as close as he can to the wood. He shouldn’t look, he shouldn’t be staring as his friend’s wife and his friend’s daughter fuck on the couch he watches the Super Bowl on. He definitely shouldn’t be slipping his hand under the waistband of his jeans to rub his cock over his underwear.

But what else can he do? Go back to his silent, empty house for another night alone in front of the TV, just passing the hours before he falls asleep? He feels like a starving man who’s been presented with a feast; he’s not going to turn away now.

Joel squeezes the bulging stiffness of his cock, rocking his hips almost absentmindedly against his hand. He can only imagine how pretty the sounds in that room are; he can see your mouth moving, hinting at moans and whimpers that he desperately wants to hear for himself.

You were at college when Tess and her husband moved in next door, barely staying for more than a month at a time. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed you at all; you’ve always been distractingly pretty. But some inhibition kept him from looking too hard.

Any inhibitions went right out of the window the moment he saw you naked on your knees, eating your stepmother’s pussy like she paid you to do it. Right now, his only thought is the way your face is twisted in pleasure as you get fucked. He wonders if he could make you look like that himself, and surprises himself by not immediately dismissing the thought.

Instead, he has to squeeze the base of his cock, trying to avoid coming in his pants like a teenager. He shouldn’t be standing out here, pressed so closely against the fence he might get splinters in his nose, but he definitely doesn’t want to be standing out here with his own come soaking into his jeans.

He’s never really seen anything like it, not even in porn. Though he’s enjoying the show, the fact that it’s not exaggerated or acted for his benefit makes it feel more real. You’re not faking moans for the camera. Tess actually is your stepmother, not some stranger you met half an hour before filming started.

You’re not actresses; you’re the girls next door.

Joel swallows thickly, his cock begging for more attention. The aching need is almost unbearable, a level of desire and lust that he hasn’t felt in years. A small voice in his brain wants him to run home and jerk himself off the minute the door closes behind him. Another part of him argues that he can’t, he can’t look away even for a moment. He’s likely never going to see this again; he can’t miss a second of the action. The second voice is by far the loudest.

He watches raptly as Tess reaches one of her hands forward to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling your chest up off the couch and leaving you bent almost in half. A surge of electricity licks down his spine at the thought of being rough with you, of being the one to make the pretty young thing sob in pleasure the way Tess is doing now. Thoughts of you choking on his cock flit briefly through his head. They’re only half-formed ideas, but he knows he’ll revisit them in the shower later.

Palming his cock over his boxers again, Joel presses against the wood. Wild dogs couldn’t drag him away right now. Not when he hasn’t seen you come yet.

****

Your back is bowed so sharply that you know you’ll ache in the morning. Tess’ hand pulls hard at your hair, the pinpricks of pain in your scalp bringing tears to your eyes. It hovers just on the right side of pleasure-pain. Tess is working you at a demanding tempo, turning you into a shivering mess in front of her.

“That’s it, good girl,” she croons. You can hear the smug smile in her voice. “This pretty little cunt of yours was made to be stuffed full, wasn’t it?”

A light sheen of sweat covers your body, and you swear you can feel slick smeared halfway down your thighs. It’s been far too long since you were last alone with Tess.

You lose yourself in the motion of her hips, focusing in on the familiar tension coiling deep within you. Every drag of the silicone cock ratchets up the tension. Your skin feels hot, like the heat pouring through your veins can’t be contained by your body anymore.

“Tess- Mommy- I need to come, can I? Please, please, I need it,” you manage, your breath coming in hard pants. You don’t know what you’ll do if she says no, not when you’re so close.

“Feral little slut,” Tess says, almost fondly. “Because you asked so nicely, then. You can come whenever you like.” She says it so nonchalantly you’d believe she truly didn’t care, if not for the way she shifted the angle of her hips a little to fuck down into you. It made the head of the toy press against that spot inside you on every pass, fireworks exploding behind your tightly-shut eyelids.

The blinding edge of your orgasm hits you before you’re ready. You scrabble against the couch cushion, trying to ground yourself as the tension that’s been building all night finally snaps. A long keening cry rips out of your throat, and you shudder as the pleasure rolls out all the way to your fingertips.

Another sharp sound leaves you when Tess lets go of your hair, the skin prickling as bloodflow returns to your scalp. Without her hand to hold your upper body up, you flop unceremoniously back onto the couch.

“Thank you,” you say softly. Tess strokes lightly down your spine, carefully starting to ease the silicone cock out of you. A trickle of slick escapes you, finally drawing attention to how uncomfortably soaked you are. Your walls tense as they try and fail to keep the toy inside you. The loss of it makes you feel devastatingly empty, and tears prick at your eyes, threatening to spill over your lashes.

“Good girls get rewarded. Let’s get you up and into the bath.” The mere mention of the bath elicits a longing groan from you. A hot bath and lavender bath oil are just what you need after being worked over so hard.

“Will you get in with me?”

“Yes, I’ll get in with you.” Tess helps you up off the couch, holding you by the elbow to make sure you’re steady on your feet.

“Will you bring some champagne upstairs with you?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

****

Joel waits until you’ve both disappeared from sight, and then waits a little longer just in case one of you comes back. The walk back inside his own yard seems to stretch out for miles. His cock is straining uncomfortably against his jeans, begging him for some attention. He moves through his house in some feverish, lustful daze. Later, he won’t remember coming upstairs to his bedroom, or kicking his jeans and boxers down.

All he really remembers is the relief that floods through him when he finally wraps his hand around his cock.

He’s so familiar with his own body – for a while, after Sarah’s mother left, it was all he had. Even as she’d gotten older, he’d never dared to bring a woman home unless she was out of the house. For a long time, his own hand was his only company in this bed.

Joel’s hand wraps tight around his cock, and gives himself a few rough, dry tugs. It stings, but not unpleasantly. Still, he knows he can’t afford to rub himself raw, not when he has so many new memories and fantasies to toy with. He spits in his hand and closes his fist around his length again.

His cock throbs against his palm as he starts fucking his fist in earnest. Joel closes his eyes tight, visions of you and Tess playing against his eyelids. Images come to him in flashes, tiny details that he wants to engrave on his memory. The way Tess’ tits heaved as she came. The curve of your ass as you knelt between her legs. The flex of Tess’ thigh muscles as she railed you. He’s not entirely sure who he’d like to trade places with more.

Joel’s hand speeds up, his hips jerking up to meet it. Precome leaks down onto his fingers, mixing in with the spit to produce wet, slick noises with every stroke. He lets himself groan. It’s still new for him, not having to muffle any noises any more. He revels in it, the freedom of it all. He fucks up harder into his fist and lets his mind wander.

He wonders what’s happening next door.

Even after he comes with a loud moan and ropes of semen staining his t-shirt, he wonders. It haunts him over the next few days, few weeks. Your father returns, and doesn’t seem any the wiser about what happens when he’s away. He invites Joel over for a beer, and Joel insists they stay out in the yard because he doesn’t want to pop a boner on the couch where he watched you and your stepmother fuck.

The encounter seems to have snapped something within him. For so long, he refused to look at you like that. You were too young, too wrapped up in college. But if Tess, only a few years his junior, can find you attractive, why can’t he? Surely, he reasons, it’s more acceptable from him; he’s not married to your father.

So, for the first time, he looks at you. In the warm spring weather, you’re constantly exposed in some way. You like pretty summer dresses and cute shorts. You have a rotating collection of bikinis and bathing suits that you lounge in by the pool. All of them put your legs on display, and most of them give him a great view of your tits. Some small voice in his head chants wrong, wrong wrong.

It doesn’t feel wrong. Not anymore.

You’re not a little girl. You’re a grown woman, well aware of how desirable she is. He sees that now.

He sees Tess too. Perfect, immaculately composed Theresa, with her charity work and luncheons. He should have guessed that the control she exerted on so many aspects of her life would extend into the bedroom. That annoying voice in the back of his head tries to tell him no again. She’s married to his friend. He shoves it down hard. She’s already having an affair, he argues with himself. With her own stepdaughter.

The idea of it refuses to leave his mind. He tries watching lesbian stepmom porn, but it just isn’t the same. It’s too artificial. Nobody who has tasted fresh strawberries would be satisfied with the chalky imitation flavour they use in medicines.

A week or so after watching the two of you, he finds himself sitting in the dark of his room. Night had fallen around him like a cloak, hiding him even though his curtains are open. Light from across the way draws his eye. For the first time, he realises that the room facing his own bedroom must be your room.

You’ve turned a lamp on. He can see it in the corner, a silk scarf draped over the top to soften the light. There’s a narrow strip of land between the two houses, split in two by the fence. It’s thin enough that he can see relatively well into your bedroom. He doesn’t think you can see him, not when his own lights are still off.

You’ve clearly been down at the pool again. Today’s outfit is a turquoise bikini, tied at the neck and back with strings. Joel doesn’t move as he watches you reach back to undo the ties. All of a sudden it loosens and falls to the floor. He can only see your back before you step out of view.

The sight is enough to send him rushing for a shower, the warm water cascading over him as he jerks himself off. When he comes, the image of it spattering over your back pops uninvited into his head.

Joel sighs and rests his head against the tile. The girls next door are going to drive him mad.

[hobiebrownismygod]

Have an angsty snippet of my Hobie Brown x Reader fanfiction lol

This is what I headcanon his backstory is something like

TW: Blood, grief, death, very minor fluff, Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day (not really a trigger but whatever), Hobie's lines are bolded btw

A/N I KNOW GREEN DAY DIDN'T EXIST IN HOBIE'S TIME BUT I LOVE THIS SONG SO LET ME HAVE MY FUN 😭

~2k words

___________________

"Aww Hobes, what are you doing?"

A 9 year-old Hobie Brown looked up at his big brother, his stubby little fingers still attached the chords of the older boy's new guitar. "I'm just looking!" he replied with a cheeky grin, holding the guitar back when his brother tried to grab it.

"Oi, give it back you prick!" The boy laughed, trying to snatch it again. Hobie danced away giggling, holding the guitar over his head. "Come and get-HEY!" The older boy tackled Hobie to the floor and pried the guitar out of his hands, holding it back out of his reach. 

"ABEEE!!" Hobie whined, his arms folded tightly over his chest. "Give it back!"

"You stole it first!" Abe giggled, 

"You're a jerk!"

"Who taught you that word?" Abe asked, wagging his finger at his little brother teasingly. "You're too little to be using mean words like that."

Hobie groaned, turning away from his brother and huffing. After a moment, the older boy sighed and crouched down behind his brother. "Ya want me to show you a couple chords?"

Hobie's face lit up. "Yea!"

Ten minutes later, he was all bundled up in his brother's arms while  he showed him the different  strings. "Alright this one's A." Abe put three fingers on the guitar and strummed it. Hobie nodded along, the side of his head on his brother's chest.

"And this one's A7. This one's A minor, this one's B minor, and this one's B7"

"I can't remember all those!" Hobie groaned.

"Alright, alright!" his brother said with a laugh. "How about I play you a song instead?"

"Okay." Hobie pulled out of his brothers arms to sit back against the old, broken down couch, a smile on his face as he waited for his brother to begin.

The older boy smiled at his little brother, pulling his hair back before resetting the guitar in his lap, fingers pressed against the chords.

He began playing. It wasn't the original song, more of a quiet, sadder, solo version. Hobie closed his eyes with a grin, taking a deep breath in. Even if it wasn't the real deal, he loved listening to his brother sing. His warm voice, the sound of the strums...it made him feel safe.

I walk a lonely road

The only one that I have ever known

Don't know where it goes

But it's home to me, and I walk alone~

His brother hummed to the music, tapping his foot to the ground to follow the beat. Hobie followed, moving his head side to side with every tap, his fingers fidgeting together as he smiled up at Abe.

I walk this empty street

On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Where the city sleeps

And I'm the only one, and I walk alone~

Abe was really all he had left. He used to have a lot of siblings, two sisters and one brother other than Abe. He was the youngest of the five and of course, the rowdiest. His parents had been pretty cool too, his dad worked at a radio station and his mom had been a stay-at-home mom.

I walk alone, I walk alone

I walk alone, I walk alone

His youngest sister had gone first. She was only a year older than Hobie, but she had been less than five pounds as a baby and always had problems with sickness and diseases. After the water had been contaminated by another one of Oscorp's toxic waste dumps...well she had been the first to go. Her and children from nearly every family in the neighborhood.

My shadow's the only one who walks beside me

My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me

'Til then, I walk alone~

Then went his mother. She was so grief-stricken by his sister's death that she went into depression. She didn't eat, she didn't sleep, and eventually the water got to her too. They were buried only a few months apart.

I'm walking down the line

That divides me somewhere in my mind

On the borderline

Of the edge, and where I walk alone

His middle brother, three years older than him, went into a rage about the water. He was young, but old enough to do something about it. He went to the station and when they didn't do anything, he made a fuss. He wrote letters to the city board, protested in front of stations and then one day, they took him to jail. He was beat to death two days later, just a few hours before his bail was accepted.

Read between the lines

What's fucked up, and everything's alright

Check my vital signs

To know I'm still alive, and I walk alone

Eventually, the water was fixed. It became, not the cleanest, but better. Babies stopped dying. People were surviving. 

Then the riots started.

People were angry. Everyone hated the police, the officers that patrolled the streets everyday yet did nothing to stop everyday crime. Fights would break out, shots would be fired, and eventually his sister, his oldest sister, got caught in the crossfire.

Someone had stolen her school bag. She asked the police officer nearby if he'd seen who'd taken it. She'd had her hands in her pockets.

He thought she had a gun.

He shot her.

And then there were three.

I walk alone, I walk alone

I walk alone, I walk alone

His father didn't let anything stop him. After his sister's death, he started using his job to make a difference. He spoke out about Osborne on the radio every day. He rallied people together, he told them not to take what was going on in the community.

And then Osborne himself came after him.

He took down his radio station, burnt it to the ground, and threw his father into jail. The poor old man couldn't stand it. He'd lost his wife, most of his kids...the stress was too much. Within months, he'd died too.

It was just Hobie and his brother left.

Him and Abe against the world.

My shadow's the only one who walks beside me

My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me

'Til then, I walk alone~

Abe did a lot to take care of him. He sold their old, rackety house for a tiny apartment. He worked odd jobs day and night, trying to provide for Hobie. Instead of taking the risk of sending him to school, Abe taught Hobie at home. Especially math and science, something both of the boys shared a love for.

They grew close. Hobie loved his older brother, more than anything in the world. He looked up to him.

He wanted to be like him.

So of course, when his brother started pasting up punk posters next to the couch, bringing home crazy-looking albums and sporting spiked jackets, Hobie couldn't help but want to follow in his footsteps. 

Even now, while he stared at his brother in such adoration, bundled up in blankets, half-asleep while Abe sang, he wanted to be like him. Tall, strong, always looking forward. A rock. A steady, strong, beautiful rock.

That's what he wanted to be.

I walk this empty street

On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Where the city sleeps

And I'm the only one, and I walk alone~

Abe finished, setting the guitar down with a sigh, gaze meeting his little brother's again. "How was that? I've improved, haven't I?"

Hobie practically jumped into his brother's arms to give him a hug. "Can you sing it again?" He asked tentatively, picking up the guitar.

"Aww, Hobes! I'm not doing that all again!" Abe said, shaking his head with a laugh. When he saw his brother's pleading expression though, he rolled his eyes. "Ugh. Fine. Ya little brat." He pushed Hobie off playfully before pulling up the guitar again and grinning a toothy grin.

_________________

10.5 years later

_________________

Hobie woke up with a gasp, sitting up straight. His face was wet, cheeks tearstained. What was that?

Abe...he'd completely forgotten about that memory. Hearing his favorite song for the first time. He held his chest tightly, taking deep, shaky breaths. Where was he?

Knocked out in an alleyway...he barely remembered what'd happened. The last thing he could remember was slamming into the wall, falling to the ground, and completely knocking out.

Except...something else had happened. It was only then when Hobie noticed his suit, which was newly black, with white lines. His jacket had disappeared, and the spikes that had used to be a part of it were attached to his suit instead. He pulled at his mask...but it wouldn't come off. It was stuck.

Shit.

He felt completely disoriented, that dream-no memory, had thrown him off. Of all the times he could've recalled that, it had to be now. Of all the times...

He missed his brother. When he reached his hand up to feel his mask, he felt it was wet. He'd been crying. But he'd also been knocked out.

What the hell?

It had to be the Venom. It was talking to him again...changing him. He couldn't let it take over again. He had to stay strong. Not just for himself, but for you.

He had to be strong.

Just like Abe had been.

_____________________

Full Fanfiction being written here:

[everythingne]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ everything that can, will. (aa23)

It's your first birthday while dating Alex. You learn a little goes a long way in the world of F1 when half the grid comes to assist a bunch of minor inconveniences that threaten to ruin Alex's perfect day.

requested here!

alex albon x girlfriend!reader

warnings/notes: no warnings? tooth rotting fluff for once in my life, alex trying his DAMN HARDEST ok. IM SORRY IS SO LATE </3

Alex had told you about a thousand times that no matter how many times you said it was fine, that you’d be okay just having pizza and watching a movie on the couch to celebrate your birthday, that he was going to try and make it nice.

And then he gets called in for an emergency meeting at Williams.

To say you’re disheartened is an understatement. Alex had been happily dropping hints here and there about his plans, nothing you could discern any big idea from but mostly just little excited chatter from him. It had been weeks of you begging for any clue, even something vague, and just receiving a simple kiss on the closest part of your body to Alex in return.

Basically, Alex had been unintentionally torturing you by holding this over your head, and now you wouldn’t even get to know.

Considering he only has maybe an hour max to get ready and to get to Williams, he’s very quick to get out the door. You make him a water bottle and pack a quick lunch, and some extra because Logan keeps wanting to eat your cooking and he hasn’t been over in a long while. Hastily, you bid Alex goodbye with a chaste kiss while he hands you your laptop you’ve been looking for since you woke up.

“It was under the sweatshirt you threw on your desk,” he shouts over his shoulder as he kicks a shoe on and nearly falls on his head in the process, and then right before he slams the door he calls your name and when you poke back around to look at the door he says, “Logan’s gonna pick you up at four!”

And Alex is gone before you can think to ask what the hell he means. And when you text Alex a few minutes later once the most of your confusion has subsided, he has no answer. So you text Logan, who also doesn’t answer to your dismay.

It’s Carmen who calls you about an hour later and asks you to let her into the apartment building, and then into your apartment itself. When you do, she happily whisks you off to the bathroom, leaving a mostly confused George behind as she tells you to get dressed for dinner.

“But Alex is busy?”

“And you think he just gave up on this? Like he hasn’t been planning this for almost a month?” Carmen stops to gawk at you with the most annoyed expression, like she can't believe you're thinking logically for once, “Babe. He literally panic texted their group chat and was freaking out about possibly missing today, he's got half of William's working to get him out early too."

“What groupchat?” You ask as Carmen, ever elegant, begins digging through the makeup you keep in your little sink side makeup bag. You're sorting through your closet when something pokes your arm and you look up to see George, who hands you your phone you'd left on the counter downstairs. He then turns and sprawls across your bed to kill the time.

“Alex has a groupchat with, Lando, Oscar, Logan and George, they made it when Alex was—as George says ‘too pussy’ to ask you out when you were a guest of Red Bull at Silverstone.” Carmen calls from the bathroom as you find the outfit you'd planned to wear tonight hung in the front of the closet, and kneel down to find your shoes in one of the various bins on the bottom of the closet.

“That was like… three almost four years ago!” You call back to her, poking your head out of the closet to look at her across the room and she grins as George laughs.

“Yeah, it was just 2019 rookies thing, but when Logan got to Williams I filled him in one night and we made the chat!” He says from where he's starfished on his stomach across your bed, phone in one hand as he idly scrolls through whatever app he's on.

“Christ.” You pinch your nose, and slam the closet door shut so you can get changed in peace. Once you've gotten ready, you open the door and walk to meet Carmen who grins and compliments your outfit and begins running you through makeup ideas.

You both settle on something natural, which is what you expected to do yourself so Carmen is happy to oblige.

“Dinner is in an hour and a half ladies!” You hear George call after a while, and the sound of his car keys jingle as you and Carmen look at him as he gets off the bed, “I have a present to retrieve from Oscar.”

“How did Oscar get involved?” You ask George in the doorway, and he blinks at you in the most George Russell fashion ever as he smiles,

“Oh, honey, the whole grid is involved at this point.” He says, then leaves the room. You gawk at the fact he just called you 'honey' like a drag queen and Carmen can't help the laugh that barks out of her mouth.

"I've taught him too much, oh god," She laughs to you and you can't help the smile that crosses your face before she continues to help you get ready.

By the time Carmen assures you that you look great and ushers you out and into the kitchen, there is a concerning amount of drivers in your apartment. You note the people you expect, Logan is talking with George off to the side, Oscar poking between them to show them something on his phone, turning back from where Lando is actually managing to make a little bouquet of flowers look pretty on the table.

"What the hell is going on?" You can't hold back from asking as Carmen laughs into the back of her hand, and Lily comes over to give you a little side hug and compliment you while Oscar hands Logan his phone and motions to the bouquet in his hand of any and every flower you had ever called pretty spread through the room.

"There's like four more. This man is insane." Lando hums and you can't help the soft laugh as Lily and Carmen both usher the boys to start grabbing their things.

"The rest are coming later," Logan hands Oscar back his phone, and with a quick goodbye pretty much forced by the girls (who give you both tight hugs before leaving) you are left with Logan being the only driver in your kitchen. He's looking at something on his phone and you look around, noting someone had cleaned up the apartment a bit (probably Oscar or George), there were already two vases of flowers, and you could tell they'd restocked groceries. Which was good, you needed more food in this damn apartment but hadn't had time to run out.

Logan finally shoves his phone in his hoodie pocket and grabs his car keys, looking at you with a tiny smile as he walks to the door to grab his shoes. You follow suit, carrying your own to put on at the door.

"Ready to go? Purse, extra shoes, perfume, travel makeup bag..." Logan trails off with a grimace and an annoyed grumble under his breath as he fishes out his phone from his hoodie, "what was the other stuff Alex told me to remind you to grab..? Oh! Keys and wallet, duh."

You just kinda stare at Logan and realize every time before you leave the house, Alex always runs you through a checklist of items you need. It was mostly because Alex himself forgot a multitude of items over the course of your first few months with him, but you both had sharper memories now.

But the fact Alex asked Logan to remind you? You could melt into a puddle on the spot. Between the flowers, or the date, or the fact he'd asked all his friends to come help. You were already melting. Logan takes you to the car, helping you get in and situated before walking around to get in himself, he cracks a joke about how Alex told him to act like a rich limousine driver and you laugh along. It sounds about right.

Halfway through the drive it starts to pour. You knew it was going to be bad weather today, hence why you had suggested the movie night idea to Alex, so you weren't too shocked. The rain slows the drive a bit, after some idiot nearly rear-ends Logan, but you make it in one piece.

Pulling up to the restaurant, you thank your lucky stars it's nowhere fancy. It's one of the many little places you and Alex stopped into quite often, typically for take-out due to busy schedules. Logan tells you to wait while he texts Alex and you happily do, looking around to see if you can spot Alex before Logan can text him.

And then your side door opens and a familiar head pokes in, Lando smiles, "Hello, Ma'am."

"Hello, Norris." You echo, laughing when he offers a hand out to you to get out of the car as he holds an umbrella over you. Turning over your shoulder as you stand, you spot a few more familiar faces--everyone from the apartment plus who you think might be Max and maybe Daniel leaning on the side of Georges car with their hoods up like some sort of spies.

How Alex managed to get almost half the grid involved, you have no idea.

"He's inside," Logan says to Lando who nods happily, gently guiding you over to the restaurant door and opening it for you while Logan leans across the console to close the passengers of his car. Once you're safely inside the little restaurant you peer over to a few of the guys giving eachother fist bumps and realize Alex's car isn't even here.

But you feel an arm snake around your waist as a quick kiss is popped to the side of your head, "Boo."

"Alex," You laugh, melting into his touch and letting him guide you to the side with a soft thanks to the hostess as he brings you to the usual corner booth the two of you always steal, perfectly secluded from the world and a little safe haven amidst the chaos. You can see Logan's car idling in the parking lot, someone leaning in the window talking to him while Oscar holds an umbrella up. But Alex taking your hand brings your attention away. It's way before the dinner rush, so its as quiet as usual as you both settle down to eat.

"Now," You hum, setting your bag besides you as you lean on the table and look at the drinks already waiting--he'd been here for a little while before you, "How in the world did you manage this?"

"I ended up basically begging James." Alex laughs, "I called Logan right after James called me, filled him in, and he was with Oscar. The two of them started asking all sorts of things and with the help of Lando they apparently planned out this whole thing. The only thing I knew was George was going over with Carmen and that Logan was gonna bring you."

"So you didn't know about anyone else being involved?" You ask and Alex cocks his head at you.

"Oh, God. Who did they rope in?" Alex asks and you wav a hand, softly laughing.

"I dont know for sure but I thought I saw Max and Daniel?" And as you say that, Alex scowls in confusion and the expression makes you burst into a tiny fit of giggles as he lets out a soft laugh through a huff.

"Lando probably pulled Daniel in, but I have no idea how Max got roped into this." You say as the waitress comes over, looking a little stressed. You send a glance to Alex, who already looks worried at her slightly nervous fidgeting.

"Unfortunately," the woman starts, "our stoves aren't exactly working..? The gas line is busted from the wind outside or something, so we won't be able to serve you..."

You and Alex kinda blink at each other before he's quick to speak, "Oh! Don't worry, let me pay for the drinks."

"No no!" The waitress exclaims, "you two are here all the time, it's on the house, don't worry!"

After a bit of back and forth of Alex insisting he'll pay and the waitress basically begging otherwise, you manage to convince Alex to let it be on the house with the workaround of leaving the girl a big tip on the non-existent bill instead. He satiates with that and as you both get up, he knocks one of the drinks off the table and shatters the glass. You both just kinda pause before he asks if you're alright, which you are, and the waitress promises to clean it as she helps you both step around it.

Alex slips another bit of cash on the table for her before he's guiding you out along with the few other tables who were waiting. His umbrella flicks out as you leave, moreso covering you in the now drizzle, but the wind causes it to flip and you laugh as he carts you over to Logan's car, and the doors are locked when you get there but luckily Logan's reflexes are still just as sharp as you remember because he's unlocking the door so you and Alex can tumble inside the back seats in fits of laughter.

"Good lord, what happened?" Logan laughs as he hands back some napkins from his glovebox so you can wipe off the rain on your arms that threaten to chill you to the core.

"Gas line is broken." Alex groans as he shoves his wet, broken umbrella onto the floor and shuts the door. He'd gotten arguably more drenched than you, so you hand him some napkins so he can try and dry himself off too. Logan laughs at your misfortune good heartedly and begins to pull out of the parking lot. The ride back to Alex's apartment is quiet, but peaceful, and you both laugh and thank Logan as you run from his car to the lobby of the apartment building. And right as you go to click the button for the elevator, because Alex of course had to live on the ninth floor, the power cut.

"Are you serious?" You hiss, turning to Alex with a frustrated huff. The rain was funny, and the resturant falling through was annoying but something you could laugh off... now you had to climb seven flights of stairs in the pitch dark, and it was your birthday. The world was supposed to be going right for you.

"I'll carry you--"

"Nine flights?"

You both look at eachother and then Alex shrugs with a tiny grin, "We might have to pit stop a few times but yeah?"

"Alex, I love you, so no. You will die." You grin and he smiles as soon as he notices it. All he was trying to do was make you laugh, and he succeeded. You do take the stairs, going slow because the emergency lights keep going in and out, and of course as soon as you get upstairs the power is restored.

But this works for Alex because he drags you into the apartment, yelling about making drinks and popcorn. You go off to get changed while he roots through the cabinets, and when you come back out you swear you hear Logan shouting something before the door slams shut.

"We have pizza!" Alex sing songs as you walk back into the kitchen and you laugh as he sets it down on the coffee table. He waves you over and motions you to plop down on the couch, laying a blanket over you before vanishing for a few moments. He comes back with popcorn and drinks, setting them down before plopping down next to you.

"So, y'know when you mentioned you just wanted to do a pizza movie night?" Alex hums, leaning a bit closer just to peck a kiss on your lips, "I guess the birthday wishes come true."

You can't help but giggle then, letting Alex pull up the next episode of the series you both were watching while you pop open the pizza box, grinning at him when he takes out his phone for a picture.

You couldn't have asked for a better birthday.

[thisisnotthenerd]

bigger and better things

an exploration of the bad kids as children and what it means to be destined for greatness

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

iv. riz gukgak

riz hears that his father has died a week after he saw him for the last time.

the length of time isn't unusual--his dad was often away in bastion city, working as a government investigator. he would commute down and it would just be riz and his mom for a bit and then he'd come back and be home. it feels like a normal week.

he's just not coming back this time.

the funeral is quiet. there's no body, just a cenotaph with his name, resting under a tree at the edge of cravencroft cemetery.

(there is a chair next to a tree with a headstone beneath it, a place in heaven for stories to be shared and memories mourned, for a life spent showing love through work)

what's strange is almost nothing has changed. riz rides in the car with his mom every morning, getting dropped off on her way to work. it's the same routine they've had since riz started going to skullcleaver elementary.

he hops out of the car, bag in hand, and looks at his mom through the window. her hand fidgets at the wheel as she mouths, "what are you waiting for?"

he walks toward the door, ducking around ankles and dodging people in the crowded halls. No one really pays attention to him when he hides like this–it’s better than the alternative.

goblin. puny. sticky fingers. wicked. not meant for adventuring, for glory. 

(in five years he will taste the blood of kalvaxus and know his father avenged)

over time the words are exchanged for others: teacher’s pet. nerd. briefcase kid.

he wears a crisp shirt and carries his briefcase with a strong grip. he introduces himself relentlessly, always working to make a connection. when things go missing he finds them, magnifying glass never far from reach. they will have nothing to say about him that he doesn’t already know.

when penny comes to babysit they talk about everything and anything, sharing knowledge and camaraderie and the struggles and joys of being small in a big world. she talks about her classes at the aguefort adventuring academy and riz thinks, i could do that. i could be a good rogue, a good investigator.

his mom goes to work early and comes home late, case files spilling out over the kitchen counter as they eat dinner together. 

riz sneaks peeks when he thinks she’s not looking and holds resolve in his heart. it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t have a license. he has to do something. she works so hard to solve these cases–why can’t he?

he already sleeps so little that when penny goes missing, he locks in, searching for anything, any clue as to where his best friend has gone. he’s lost enough. she’ll come back and the case will be solved.

(a few years down the line, riz gukgak is a licensed p.i., the name on call to find clues and discover the unsolvable, with tenacity and unmatched grit.)

[toomuchracket]

i know you aren’t writing right now so feel free to ignore, delete, tell me to eat glass. i just had to share brainrot. imagine the boys are sound checking girlie plans for the better halves to have a spa day but someone needs to look after edlieh, keir and baby hann, girlie offers and handles it, the other girls are bummed she’s not joining but she has a big day planned for the kids, some sort of field trip, ice cream and a sugar crash that leads to a group nap and that’s how matty finds her just dogpiled with sleeping kids in their hotel room, she gives him a wtf was today i was way over my head type of look, he just grabs one of them to nap on him instead. he will call the dads to take over. But not right now, he’s just going to enjoy the end of cars and being delulu about their future.

couldn't not share this with everyone, it's too cute!! maybe the WAGs spa day was booked before you and matty had told everyone you're together, and when carly is adamant she's amending the booking to include you you're like "that is so sweet and i'd love that BUT if i go then who's watching the kids during soundcheck?" - everyone feels lowkey bad that you're not getting to go and hang out, but tbh you have a great day with the babies at the park and the ice cream place. matty texts once soundcheck and the little band meeting thing is over like "where are you? i'll come and meet you", and heads to the hotel when you reply "watching cars in the room. kids have conked out lmfao"; like you said, he goes a bit delulu when he finds you with baby keir snuggled on your chest and eilidh and baby hann curled up at either side of you, and he pulls baby hann onto him so he can get in right next to you and kiss your cheek. you have a little chat about your days, and a mutual "i really do like this film" "yeah, me too" thing, and before he can even stop himself, matty's blurting out "bet OUR kids won't fall asleep before the final race has even happened like this lot lol". he gasps when he realises what he's said, and turns to you with the apology waiting on his lips - when he sees you smiling, though, he doesn't talk and just smiles in return, giggling when you say "of course they won't. coolest kids ever, our babies". and i don't think the conversation moves any further than that right now, but you and matty are definitely a bit more soft and tender with each other after realising you both want things to get serious. not that you weren't like that with each other already, but it's just a bit... dreamier, now. and knowing that starting a family together is something that you both want, i think it makes you especially feel far less stressed when you find out you're having lyla. v cute <3

[thedeviltohisangel]

I feel like Spook and Bucky would get into a disagreement once Buck goes down, like I could see her seeking him out when he’s sitting in the plane and her not accepting him answer that he’s fine and “doesn’t feel a thing”

John "doesn't feel a thing" Egan is one of my FAVORITE topics of conversation with @gloryofroses19

Cass is with John in London when he hears about Buck going down. (random side note but do they elope in England before or after this news? There are plusses and minuses to both we can discuss)

She knows instantly he's going to fly that next mission no matter what. Their little bubble has been broken. And in her heart the entire London trip has felt like a long goodbye. And she wants to celebrate their little wedding and exist in that feeling that she will go back to SC with John on her arm and he will protect her from Landry but all those fears come rushing back.

She gives him space to think and breathe and finds him in the plane with the flask. She climbs in and sits next to him in silence for a little while.

"I'm fine. You didn't need to come find me. Should eat some dinner or something."

"Eat dinner alone? Not a good way to start our marriage." And she smiles but he doesn't even look at her. "John-"

"I said I'm fine, Cass." And she wants to say she knows he isn't and that it's okay to feel but she knows the words would be hollow because she has done the exact same thing.

"Take it from a spook. Numbing yourself only dulls it for a little while."

"Only way for me to fix it is to go up there and make them pay." Cass intertwines her fingers with his.

"And I'll always support you and whatever choice you make. As long as you allow yourself to feel this pain and know it's not going to echo in your chest like that forever."

"I love you, Cass. You'll know that even when I'm up there?"

Even if I don't make it back down here?

[thenwethrowitonthefire]

Shout-out to everyone who survived a "fun" easter with the family

[quietwingsinthesky]

thinks about child-but-growing-fast amara and lucifer in the same room and gets ill.

[sugume]

HELL BENT — RYOMEN SUKUNA

✧･ﾟ The Incubus King finally claims his intended.  

( TW ) f!reader, incubus king!Sukuna, major size difference (Sukuna’s 8ft tall!), harem, group sex, fingering, cunnilingus, biting, rough sex, bleeding, forked tongues, cervix fucking, mating bonds, reader goes in some type of ‘heat’, explicit content. 

word count - > 1.5k

author's note: PLS don’t take this seriously Idek what this is!! unedited + I'm trying a new writing style

Can’t stop thinking about Incubus king!Sukuna who finally finds his intended after centuries of looking. Who finds her in a place he never thought to check, the human realm. Who he kidnaps and brings down to his realm, telling you how you are to be his queen and rule his subjects alongside him. You have a mental breakdown your first week. The change of scenery, coming to terms that this is real, the differences between you and Sukuna’s species he calls Incubus. You’ve heard of them before, but you didn't think they were real—who did? They’re eight feet tall, winged creatures who liked to fuck 24/7. Half of them roam around naked and you can’t turn a hallway without catching two or more in sexual activities. So, hearing that you're some type of ‘mate’ to the king of the creatures? You think you’re dreaming. Sukuna brings you food every day and talks about how the mating bond has been activated now. How the several next week's you’re going to be restless until he ruts and claims you. 

You scream and cry how this is his fault. He leans over the buffet of food and smacks your thigh with a grumble. You refuse to speak to him for the rest of the night even when he undresses and washes you. Making crude comments like how he can’t wait to breed your human body full of his offsprings. Sukana who doesn’t have the time for your refusal to talk to him for he has a kingdom to run, so he drops you off to a group of naked, pierced women who he calls his harem. He gently pushes you into one of the tall women before telling her to take care of you or else.  

You can’t find it in your to be jealous of the women for being his ‘harem.’ You don’t even like Sukuna right now and the women, they’re so kind and mature that you would much rather spend your days lazing around with them than sitting on Sukuna’s lap while he laughs at his people who come to him with misfortunes.  His harem teaches you all about their lands, how sex isn’t taboo instead something they need just like oxygen is to humans. How when they fuck, they release some type of energy that’s built up in their body that causes their kind to go insane and terrorize the human realm.  

Sukuna’s harem who are utterly obsessed with how small you are compared to them. They used to spend their days lying around on rich cushions and blankets waiting for Sukuna but even they got bored of him—if it were up to them, they’d lock him in their room and never let him out. His harem who was supposed to be teaching you more about their king but instead chose to spend their days lazily eating you out with their long-forked tongues and fucking you dumb with their big fingers. They make you suckle their breasts and grind on their faces. They’re so gentle after, hissing at each other when one speaks too loudly after you had fallen asleep, washing your body clean, wrapping you in the softest blankets to carry you back over to your room with Sukuna. Some days they happen to catch Sukuna in his room, and they smirk and giggle when they see his jealous face. They take it as the highest compliment their queen has decided to lie with them before the king.  

Incubus king!Sukuna who feels the mating bond grow stronger with every second you're in his castle. He feels himself shifting. He unable to stay away for long periods of time. He forces you to bathe with him before making you sit on his throne with him while he talks to irrelevant people, his hard cock jumping every time you move. You want to get away, moaning and grumbling how his you want to go play with his harem, it’s uncomfortable sitting on muscular thighs for hours while listening to him talk in several languages you don’t understand to people you don’t know. Sukuna who hisses and grumbles at you before going back to his subjects who kneel at the bottom of his obsidian throne.  

 Throughout the week you can’t help but get hornier and hornier until your unable to walk without liquids dripping down your thighs and wetting your skirts. Despite Sukuna's harem playing with you can’t help but plead and cry for him. You barely know the man but your body aches for him, for his cock, his bond. Sukuna who finally comes to see you one day. Who picks you up to set you up top of the cushions so you can watch him fuck his harem. He does everything he could think to the women, he wants to see what makes you twitch and ache and cry. By the time he’s done—hours later—you’re in a puddle of slick panting and crying how you want him. He doesn’t take you though, he can smell that you aren’t ready for him just yet, and he can’t risk injuring his mate who he’s searched for centuries. He won’t allow himself to bring you any harm, so he just holds you in his lap and makes his harem play with you until you pass out. 

Sukuna whose balls deep in one of his women when he sniffs that air and smells the scent change in you. The women he’s fucking laughs when he yanks himself out of her and goes to you. He picks you up from the drenched cushion you're sitting on. You wrap your arms around his neck and sob and the feeling of his body. You try to wrap your legs around his huge frame but you’re too tired, so they just hang as he walks you back to your room, your thighs rubbing against his cock. Sukuna lays you down on the huge bed before ripping your silky dress and ding his head in between your legs. He brings you to several orgasm, but his mouth and forked tongue isn't what you want. You want his cock. You want him to fuck you pregnant while he bites you and claims you as his. You scream and kick and pull and at the pair of horns on top his head, but he just shushes you before going back to eating you out.  

Sukuna finally deems you ready to take his cock but before he kisses and drags his teeth all over your body. He suckles at your breast, commenting on how you’ll be feeding him with said breasts soon. You cry out when he finally turns you ass up. You don’t even think about how much bigger he is than you, how his cock might not fit inside. Sukuna pushes your head into the blankets, grabbing the base of his cock and rubbing it over your pussy. You scream at him, but he ignores you enjoying the sight of your pussy against his too big cock. When he finally pushes into you scream into the pillow. You scream for more, for him to slow down, for him to breed you, for him to fuck you harder, for him to stop and let you catch a break. He’s too out of it to listen. He never knew what it would feel like to claim a mate but this? If he had any doubt the little human underneath his wasn’t his, he didn’t now. He finally felt whole. He felt your essence flowing into him, making him stronger, more aware, if he concentrated hard enough, he could feel your emotions and hear your thoughts. He fucked your impossibly harder. 

Sukuna leans down and whispers for you to open, and let him in. You don’t understand what he's talking about until his cock shoots some warm liquids and you feel your cervix open. It hurts so good when he pushes deeper into you. You orgasm again before he releases his seed into you. The tension leaves your body at the feeling of his seed rushing to your womb. You’re about to succumb to the sleepiness before Sukuna jolts you awake saying this is just the beginning.