#but that thing on your wrist I believe also has a couple things here or there

[amyisherenowitsokay]

What is your favorite thing about each of your fanfics?

This is such a hard question omg. I don't think I've ever been asked anything like this, damn. Got me pondering n' shit.

I think, even of the fics that are not my favorite, the thing I always like is writing the romance. The action is fun, creating new lore is fun, writing OC's or developing side-characters is fun, etc., but I have never written a fic that wasn't a build up to and/or explicitly a romance. I love romance.

Even when I was a cynical teenager dangling boys on strings, determined to never take a relationship seriously, I loved the oncept of romance.

My current relationship has surpassed 6 years now, and I love him so dearly that his characteristics even show up in some of my fics, whether I mean them to or not. I consume a lot of media, but my absolute favorite thing to see and experience within it is love.

I love the slow burn of misunderstandings and peril that is Dead Weight. I love the found family of What We Become and Paradorx. I love the "I don't have much, but I know I have you" of Re:MHNY. The "you were destined for me" of That Thing on Your Wrist.

Thank you for this ask anon, it's got me in a very thoughtful, very sentimental mood now. I'm going to go text something unbearably mushy to my boyfriend. <3

[sunnyskiesscareme]

My Heart’s Racing, and it isn’t the Exercise

Luke Hughes x reader

Summary: Luke Hughes has a gym crush, and his brother wants a sister in law

Warnings: there’s a reference to like… dropping a weight on his head to induce memory loss, you’ll understand if you read it 😭 other than that, nothing!! (Unless u include Luke embarrassing himself but that’s just cuz he’s a cutie patootie)

Notes: I’m so sorry I’ve barely posted!! Uni is kicking my ass. Still, I appreciate all the support on my previous fics!! Y’all are so kind!! Also, a lil reference to the readers job as a hairdresser

Luke was sure that if y/n wasn’t here, he’d cry.

He had explicitly told his brother that he needed to be at the gym within 10am-11:30am, and no later. He hadn’t told him why, exactly, but he thought he made himself pretty clear anyhow. It wasn’t like Jack to be late to anything, but Jack had expressed that he believed you couldn’t be late to the gym in the first place. To him, it was a personal pleasure. Luke would have agreed if it weren’t for the girl with the strict schedule, who went everyday, at the same time, with no exceptions.

He couldn’t explain that to Jack without the certainty of him telling the whole Devil’s team about his little crush, and suddenly the chirping would go beyond anything he’d ever live down. So instead, when Jack would roll his eyes at his brother with a comment about being uptight, Luke would bite back with a reminder that Jack had assigned certain coats to certain hooks in the entrance way. Surely, Luke was not the uptight one in that apartment.

Jack had only hurried things up when his brother threatened to leave without him, jingling his keys and walking to the door with exaggerated stomps. Still, they had only left the house at 10:41, and for reasons unbeknownst to Jack, Luke had refused to switch to the gym nearest their building. It was 10:53 when they got there, and Luke ignored his brothers scolds for his crooked parking job, rushing to check who was at the girl’s favourite machine. It was then that Luke realized he had never learned her name. Had she ever even had a full conversation with him?

She was there, in all of her beauty, but Luke didn’t crack a smile. Instead, he walked over to the chest press for his warmup as if he had never seen her. His sudden stop-and-stare session did not go unnoticed by his brother, who not so subtly squinted his eyes in her direction, trying to find what had his little brother so dazed. His eyes flickered to the dejected look on his face, back to the girl, and then to the foot that Luke was subconsciously tapping. A knowing grin grew on Jack's face before he wiped it off with the back of his hand, wringing his wrist out in an act of preparation for his dead-lift warmup. He halted when he began to pass by Luke, stomping his foot on the ground exaggeratingly as he turned to his brother.

"Luke, Luke," Jack said, bending down to reach ear level with him. "You see that girl over there? The one on the, uh, the walking thingy?"

"The elliptical." Luke corrected, a little bit too fast. He’d learned the name of the machine a while ago, just in case he needed it one day.

"Yeah, whatever. She's real pretty, huh?"

Luke's eyes met Jack's so fast it hurt, and he blinked a couple of times to make the room stop spinning. His knuckles turned white at the grip he had on the bars of the machine, despite having paused the lifting to speak to his brother. "What- why?"

"I think I’m gonna ask her out."

"No!" Luke yelped, and those in the gym who weren't wearing headphones or struggling to breathe with the intensity of their workout glanced over at him curiously. His cheeks burned bright red, and Jack had to repress a smirk. "She’s," he shook his head, "She's not even your type."

“What? Of course she is. You don’t think she’s pretty?”

“She’s-!” Luke started, chest puffed up and eyes wide as he went to defend the girl. That was, until the smile on his brothers face looked a little bit too evil to be classified as adoring, and Luke squinted his eyes at him. “What are you trying to do here?”

Jack let out a girlish giggle and gave him a smack to his knee. “I think you think she’s pretty!”

“Shut up!” He wacked his brother right back.

“I think you’ve beaten me to her!”

“Jack, stop.” Luke begged, gripping his brothers wrist strongly enough for Jack to wince, his eyes wide as saucers.

Jack snickered, wringing out his wrist. He glanced back at the girl, whose machine beeped as she finished her cool down. “C’mon! She’s done. Go talk to her!”

“What? No!” Luke refused, his voice much quieter and harsher than his brothers. “No, she’s leaving anyway.”

Jack glanced at the girl again, who had finally stepped off of the machine and stood in front of a window. Her silhouette was black as she tipped her head towards the ceiling to chug down some water. He looked back at Luke. “I don’t think so… looks like she’s just having a drink before her next workout.”

“No.” Luke shook his head, certainty in his movements. “It’s 11:30. This is when she leaves.”

Luke seemed to have not realized the weight his words held before he said them, and quickly made himself busy with his machine before Jack’s head jerked foreword, his jaw dropped far enough that if he had dared to look, Luke would be able to count all of his teeth.

“Woah, woah, wait a minute!” He said, stepping in front of his little brother so that he had no casual excuse for avoiding his gaze. “Is this why you’ve been whining every day about when we get here?”

Luke cringed, ending his first rep early to stick an earbud in his ear. “I’m working out. Can’t hear ya.”

“Oh my god!” Jack gaped, yanking the earbud back out. “This is why I have to go to a gym 15 minutes away from my apartment- that has a gym in the building?”

“It’s only 10, don’t be such a baby.” Luke groaned, seeing no point in trying to hide his little secret any longer.

“Oh my god. Luke, I’m being serious right now, if you don’t go talk to her- I will.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would.”

Luke’s eyes worriedly flicked back to where she stood before, but let out a breath when she wasn’t there anymore. He didn’t know wether it was of relief or disappointment, but he forced himself not to dwell on the weird feeling in his chest. “She’s… She’s gone anyways.”

Jacks head whipped to the window and then back to his brother so fast that Luke was surprised he wasn’t in pain. He quickly promised himself he’d give him pain if he looked at him like that any longer- his brows slightly furrowed, eyes more pitiful than annoyed. Jack let out a soft huff. “Next time then.”

---

Jack was ready before Luke was the next morning, bouncing on the balls of his feet on the mat in front of the door. Luke walked sluggishly, something he hadn’t done since he had first seen her. He was sure this would be the last day at her gym- certain he’d be too humiliated to return.

“Could you wipe that look off your face, please?” Luke asked, annoyed.

His grin only grew, flashing his recently fixed straight white teeth. “Why would I? Todays the day- Lukey Boy is getting a girlfriend!”

Luke rolled his eyes.

The 10 minute car ride was mostly silent. To Jack, it had felt like the longest ride he’d ever taken, even with all of the complaints he’d given about the length of the drive in the past. This was most certainly the worst of them all. To Luke, it had been the shortest. He’d listed multiple plans for certain scenarios in his head, noting that if he really needed to, there were weights near the elliptical she used that he could drop on his head if he needed to forget he’d ever seen her. Maybe his brother would feel bad enough to never bring it up again. He planned to run a few fast miles on a treadmill beforehand, so that he could build up some adrenaline, and blame his red face on the exercise.

Jack walked in with a pep in his step, only stopping when his brother suddenly grabbed his wrist. His face was white and his eyes wide, and Jack had never seen him so scared to talk to a girl before. “She’s gonna think I’m a creep.”

“No she won’t! Just… don’t be a creep, and you’ll be fine.”

Luke releases his brothers wrist to run a stressed hand down his face. “I hate you.”

“Luke, it’s gonna be fine, I’m telling you.” Jack tried to reason. He sent him a funny smile, “Plus, you’re in the NHL. what girl would say no to that?”

Luke didn’t laugh, and Jack licked his lip awkwardly. “Buddy, just do it. There’s no use comforting you now- she hasn’t even rejected you yet!”

“Yet!”

“No!” Jack gripped Luke’s shoulders tightly. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Now go. Now. It’s time.”

Luke almost tripped, his feet too nervous to react to the push his brother gave him. He prayed that it was too bright outside to see the reflection in the window her machine overlooked, and that she didn’t see any of that. He stood awkwardly a safe distance away from her, looking back at his brother who gave him a not-so-subtle thumbs up.

She was changing the song coming through her headphones when she felt the presence of someone next to her. She turned, startled when someone was actually there. He was tall, but had a young, sweet face. His hair was long enough for him to have to push behind his ear and she could imagine him hating it. Most people with curly or wavy hair did, she had learned from work, but his was her favourite texture to cut and work with. She’d recognized him well. He seemed to have a similar schedule to her, and she had used him as proof to her friends that she wasn’t uptight. He was too handsome to look at, she had decided one day. She couldn’t afford a gym crush, not when she was doing so well with her gym streak. It would complicate things. She flicked an earbud out, giving him a friendly, but curious smile.

“Hi.” He said, the word breathy.

“Hi.” She said back with a slight chuckle. “Did you need something?”

“Oh! Sorry, uh,” she didn’t notice Jack watching them, cringing at the way his brother stuttered. “I was wondering… if I could use that machine.”

She blinked at him, eyes flickering to the 3 other ellipticals lining the large window, still and unused. She nodded anyway. “Uh, yeah! Sure!” She said, stepping off and beside the guy, who looked much taller from the new angle. “Are, are the other ones not working?”

“Uh-“

“Nope!” She jumped at the loud voice behind her, looking right in time for her to miss how Jack stepped on the machines cord, unplugging it. He smacked his hand on the buttons exaggeratedly, proving to her that it wouldn’t turn on.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I’ve been hogging the only working one, haven’t I?”

“No, no! You’re okay. Uh, I just, um-“

“My brother thinks you’re pretty!” Jack blurted out, cutting off his stuttering.

Luke looked mortified, shoulders curling in on himself. Y/n reddened, her lips unintentionally curling up into a giddy smile. “Oh! Thank you!” She let out a nervous chuckle. “Um, you’re his brother?”

“I’m so sorry.” He said instead of answering, and she hoped he didn’t look so sick because his brother lied.

“Don’t be! I’m,” she let out another nervous chuckle, “I’m very flattered.”

“You should let him buy you a smoothie from the drink bar.” Jack suggested, grinning wildly. Y/n felt brave under his enthusiasm.

“Jack!” Luke pleaded, fists balled up.

“He doesn’t have to pay.” She said, and she smiled awkwardly at their intense gazes. “Uh, I mean… are you thirsty?”

“You want to get a smoothie with me?”

“Well, sure! Only if you tell me your name though.” She giggled

He looked at her, his gaping lips turning up into a smile. “Luke.”

Luke had never loved his brother more. He hadn’t listened as he came up with some excuse for leaving the two of them alone. Something about already having water or having to get his workout in while he could, Luke assumed. He didn’t really care. He had imagined a million ways his day could go, and he had somehow lived the one he didn’t think would ever happen. He smiled at her, panicking when she began to reach for the pack she had around her waist. “I’ll pay!”

She looked back up at him. “Wow! A cute boy calls me pretty and buys me a smoothie in one day? This isn’t what I imagined would happen when I walked into the gym today.” She giggled, walking with him.

“Yeah… neither did I.”

[stunie]

SCARY BOYFRIEND EX PRIVILEGES! ❤︎ — Endo Yamato x f!reader ﾉ Sfw ﾉ Cw harassment (not from Endo) ﾉ My response to:

ANON’S ASK — Random thought but what the wind breaker boys protect you in spite of being your ex. Whether it was a mutual, [etc], uncertain, or bittersweet break up is up to you.

Other warnings: one mention of reader typically wearing makeup

As weird as it sounds, you’re not entirely sure if you and Endo have ever officially broken up. Dating through high school was one thing, but keeping the relationship strong after attending different universities was another.

At the very least, you’re 90% sure the relationship died, although you don’t remember exactly when the two of you stopped talking. After you switched your phone number following your first semester at university, you hadn’t even bothered to tell him. You don’t remember why you didn’t bother to either.

Everything is weird now.

Life has been entirely different without him. There’s one less free pocket in your bag now that you’ve started carrying pepper spray with you. You wear your headphones in one ear at a time, and your volume isn’t on full blast anymore.

You actually look where you’re going, and you pay attention to the time— take a mental note that it starts getting dark earlier at this point in the year.

Even with the precautions you’ve learned during your time at university, this type of thing would always be out of your control. How in the world did you get singled out wearing your pajamas and no makeup?

Life wasn’t being fair to you.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing here all alone?”

“Midterms.” You narrow your eyes to the best of your ability, balling your hands into little fists to mask how they’ve started to tremble. “I’m meeting up with some friends now.”

You used to be able to just say “I have a boyfriend.”

You also used to be walked home, so this wouldn’t have happened in the first place. You’re sure that if Endo saw the way you are now, he’d be making a comment by now. Something along the lines of “gonna hurt your hands if you throw a punch with your fists like that, sweet thing.”

Nothing is fair. Why is it now that you start missing him for the first time in years? The feeling comes a little too easily for a relationship that faded into nothing, but you’re too scared to kick yourself in the shin right now.

“That so?” The man in front of you laughs when your fight or flight finally starts to kick in. You take a couple of steps backward, and your frame is suddenly a lot smaller compared to his. How easy. “Where are these friends of yours? Can’t believe you’re out here all by yourself..”

“T-they have my location, y’know.”

There’s the stutter that always gives you away.

He laughs at this, and you can feel yourself breaking into a cold sweat. Keep your words steady. Ignore the way your heart rate is spiking. Do absolutely anything to avoid letting him know that you’re scared out of your mind.

It doesn’t work at all. “They won’t know if you don’t have your phone on you, will they?”

All the words you know seem to slip out of your brain, and your face feels painfully hot. “U-um…”

“You’re exactly my type. It’s a compliment… I’m being nice, so just come with me. You won’t regret it— I’ll make it worth your time.”

It doesn’t like sound an offer, and it doesn’t sound like a suggestion either. Your body freezes against your will, and he catches onto this pretty fast. The pepper spray in your bag seems too far away for you to even consider, and you’ve never felt so helpless in your life.

“Yeah? That sound good?” He moves to close the distance between the two of you with a grin, reaching out to grab your wrist. Your eyes slam shut, lips trembling even when you try to say something to protest. “Damn… you’re so docile for such a pretty girl. Usually, they’d be a bitch, but you—”

“How mean.” Your eyes shoot open when you’re suddenly tugged backward, gasping when your back roughly collides with someone’s chest. “I was waiting all alone. What’s my girl doing over here with you?”

The tattooed arms that drape themselves over your shoulders don’t look familiar at first glance, but the muscles and his scent are. Painfully familiar, as a matter of fact. They’re the same arms you used to cling onto- and you always used to wrap your fingers around his bicep and rest your head on his shoulder.

He loved that.

It all registers in your head as soon as he puts his weight on you, head right beside yours and you feel his hair tickle your neck. He gives the man in front of you an unamused look before turning to you.

“M-me?” You want to dig a hole and stay there for eternity after hearing just how shaky your voice comes out. Endo’s so close that you could simply turn your head to the side and you’d be kissing him.

He laughs, and you feel your face heat up again. Only this time, there’s a gentle fluttering of your heart that comes with it instead. “Yeah, you. What? Did you think I was talking to the loser? I wouldn’t dream of it.”

The way you move to latch onto his arm in an instant is all he needs to confirm that your feelings haven’t changed. The man in front of you doesn’t speak— he can’t seem to move either. Your boyfriend has made quite the name for himself, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?

To you, he’s your bodyguard— and more, of course, but maybe you’d be honest and tell him about that another time. But to that guy, he’s pure danger. The way Endo looks over his shoulder to give him one last glance is already enough to have his knees buckling.

[chlorinecake]

am in love w ur work<3 can u do an enha x reader ff, where they're dating a very feminine y/n who's also insecure? yk like them comforting y/n etc etc?

「 𓍯𓂃 A 𝒢UIDE TO OVERCOMING YOUR INSECURITIES 」

──── 🪽 𓂃 𓈒 step one: date 1 / 7 members of 엔하이픈

🪞 ( . . path to bookshelf ◍ ) 𓄼 be the best version of you .ᐟ g𝓮nre. fluff, comfort, est. dating, fem.r ﹙ 🧺 . . . ﹚. 美しさ skinship & kisses 350 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽s each ✩ ✩ ✩

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 for my melanated queens; “God, I look terrible in this picture,” you sighed miserably at the couple photo before you, zooming in closer on your screen to get a better look. “I'm literally lost in the background…”

“Let me see,” your boyfriend offered, bracing himself behind you as he peered over your shoulder. “Baby… you look beautiful here, what’re you talking about?” He practically chuckled, somewhat humored that you thought the picture was bad when it was clearly fine.

“I’m talking about my complexion,” you sighed, shutting off your phone out of frustration, “Maybe we should only go on dates when it’s sunny outside so I don’t look like a shadow next to you by time we take a picture…” That's when Heeseung felt his heart drop at your words, pouty lips partingas he asked, “Why would you say such a thing, ____? I love how healthy your complexion looks…”

“I know, but—”

“No buts,” he interrupted, walking from behind you and guiding your chin towards his. “Did someone say something to make you feel this way, love?” You struggled to meet his sincere doe eyes as your own weak ones were on the verge of tears.

With a crack in your voice, you finally spoke, “No, Heeseung… I’ve always felt this way, I just never said anything til now…”

“And are those insecurities motivated by your own standards or by what society has poisoned you to believe?”

You got quiet at his question, knowing deep down that you never had an issue with your skin color and that it was something the world had made you feel...

“Look at your beautiful hands in mine,” he continued, shattering your inner thoughts as he drew your attention to his hands holding yours. “Please don’t think your skin color is something we need to work around… especially not for a silly picture…”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling your stomach flutter as he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a loving kiss to your wrist. “So,” you started in a soft voice, his gentle eyes looking back up at you, “can I at least delete the picture then?”

“Fine,” Heeseung smiled through a complying breath, wiping the moisture from the corner of your eye with his thumb, “but only because I’m planning a date for us to take more photos later…”

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 for the frequent bad hair days; “Gosh, this is why I need to go bald one day,” you sulked, tossing your hairbrush to the ground in a fit of exhaustion, “otherwise, I'll never be able to make my hair look right...”

“It looks pretty to me, baby,” Jay smiled upon meeting you in the bathroom, the frustrated clatter of your hair products having caught his attention. “What style are you going for anyways?” Your boyfriend hugged you from behind, placing a tender kiss to the crown of your head.

Reaching for your phone that sat on the bathroom vanity, you showed it to Jay. “Here’s the reference picture,” you sighed, feeling yourself calm down slightly as he held you in his arms, “I just have so many fly-aways today that the gel won’t even hold them in place...”

Jay's eyes scanned your reflection in the mirror, comparing it back and forth to the reference photo, “Easy fix, princess. We’ll just have to buy better products.”

“But it’s not just that… my split ends—”

“Then I’ll schedule you an appointment at the salon today…”

Your shoulders fell at your boyfriend's words. You knew he was only trying to make things better, but you still felt insecure. “Hey, look at me ____,” he whispered, voice light as a feather as he caressed your side, “my girl always deserves the best... especially if it’ll make her feel better about herself… got it?”

A smile spread across your face as Jay's fingers playfully tickled your waist.

In reality, no, you couldn’t get your hair right every time, but the hair you had suited you best, and simply required a little more tender love and care…

“Sooo, no salon date today?” He asked, watching your features.

You scoffed at his question, “No, we’re definitely still going… I’ll just make sure to embrace my natural hair this time.”

“And as you should, baby,” Jay smirked, kissing you one last time before his hands left your side, “I’ll go get the car keys...”

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 for the curvy girls; “Whatchya lookin' for?” Jake asked from the bed, watching as you searched through your shared drawers for anything big enough to swamp your entire body. “I’m too big for all of my clothes now, so I need to find something that's large but still cute...”

“Oh...” your boyfriend's voice trailed off as he got out of bed to meet you on the floor. “That’s why I always let you wear my hoodies, baby. Here,” he offered, pulling the white hoodie over his head and revealing a bit of his toned stomach before he shimmyied the oversized hoodie over your head. “So... can I cuddle with my adorable girlfriend all day like we planned now?”

You blushed slightly at his compliment, taking Jake's hand in yours as he helped you up from the ground, “Yes, but only if you promise not to put your hands on my stomach like you usually do...”

His eyes widened at your odd request, “I thought you liked it when I cuddled your tummy?”

He pulled you against his chest, but the physical contact only made you squirm with discomfort, “Please don’t call it that, baby…” The words left your mouth with such pain, his heart sinking at the sad look that washed over your features…

“I don’t get it ____, what’s going on?” Your boyfriend pressed with concern, releasing you from his hold to simply hold your hands.

“It's not like you'd understand where I’m coming from anyways...”

He frowned at your words, just as you watched with weak eyes while he pulled out a top from your drawer, holding it before your eyes. “You see this? You’re not too big for your clothes, but your clothes are too small for you…”

“Yea, but I used to be able to fit all of those…” You sulked in defense.

“And your body is just going through a normal change and has granted you with gorgeous curves… all we have to do now is accommodate for them..”

You thought on his words for a moment, a feeling of guilt washing over you after you realized you'd snapped on him earlier when he was only trying to help.

He placed a gentle kiss to your forehead, pulling you back into his warmth before whispering, “Please, be more kind to your body, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded with a sniffle, tightening your arms around him.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 for the giggles often hidden behind one’s palm; You and Sunghoon were sitting on the couch in your shared apartment living room, legs intertwined in a string of flesh like always as and it was your turn to laugh when your boyfriend retold one of the craziest stories from his prior days as an Italian restaurant waiter.

“And the guy had such a nerve to order 150 bucks worth of steak to then leave a measly fifty cent tip…” his voice trailed off, smiling to himself as he watched you struggle to maintain your laughter, a shy hand flying to cover your mouth.

“Sorry, sorry,” you said while giggling, cheeks hurting a bit from trying to hold back your emotions, “you can continue…”

He looked at you with confusion, his thick, dark brows screwing in the center of his face, “Wait… why’re you apologizing for laughing, baby?”

“Oh…I…” you started, startled by his question, “I guess… I just don’t like hearing my laugh sometimes?… plus it makes my face scrunch up and look all weird when I smile…”

“Stop, your laugh is gorgeous and so is your smile, what’re you talking about?” He scoffed, leaning back against the arm of the couch and crossing his arms.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend,” you sighed, untangling your legs from his and bring your knees to your chest.

“Sure, but that’s only part of the reason,” Sunghoon corrected, readjusting himself on the couch so he could be closer to you as he spoke, “it’s true, y’know?” He said before tickling your ankle, making you smile once again, “I bet that makes you feel better already, doesn’t it?”

You looked down before meeting his sincere gaze, feeling your heart flutter in your chest as he squished your face together with his hand.

“Yes… it does,” you giggled through the pouty lips his fingers forced you to make, making him chuckle a bit to himself before leaning in to peck your forehead first, then your nose, before finally, your lips…

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 for the spots makeup can't conceal; “Ugh,” you groaned with frustration, letting out a sigh as you aggressively wiped at your face with a makeup wipe, “this foundation is supposed to be full coverage!... God, now I'm gonna have to leave the house looking like a complete troll...”

“Excuse me?” Sunoo asked from beside you while adjusting his tie, a glint of amusement in his hazel eyes despite the concerned nature of his voice.

“I don't mean to be dramatic, but I swear the mirror hates me...” You exclaimed, tossing the dirty makeup wipe in the trash can while internally dreading the fact that you were having a terrible hormonal breakout today.

Sunoo's delicate hands left his neck tie to grab the package of wipes and pull out a few for you.

“The mirror has no feelings, sweetie... only you do,” your boyfriend chuckled at the pouty look on your face, guiding your head upward as he gently wiped away the remaining smears of makeup from your skin.

“Besides, you don't need to wear all this stuff anyway,” he whispered this time, the most loving look in his eyes as he caressed your cheek, “you're naturally gorgeous to me...”

He let his thumb graze over your lower lip before leaning down a little further from where he stood, pressing a tender kiss to your plush lips.

“You're lucky you didn't turn into a frog after doing that,” you giggled, playfully smacking his shoulder as you both noticed the pink hue rising to your cheeks... a hue that would've otherwise been covered by makeup.

Smiling at your words, he handed you a bar of soap and a towel, “I'm glad we don't have time for you to contour or conceal anything, so lets get the rest of this stuff off your face so we don't end up late for our date...”

You took the soap in your palms, lathering it together under the running faucet water as a new feeling arose in your chest upon looking at yourself in the mirror. No, you didn't have perfect skin, but you were still beautiful and loved, which in this moment, was all that mattered.

“Thank you, Sunny,” you said, massaging the soap into your face as he walked away from you, “I'll be out in a minute...”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 for the hairy girls; “Shit,” you cursed under your breath while rummaging through your things. “What’s wrong, baby?” Jungwon asked, approaching you from behind with a smile on his face.

“I can’t find my razor,” you stated plainly, not even meeting his eyes as you closed the suitcase you were just searching... “Oh,” he started, cat-like eyes rounding slightly, “you can always use my razor if you want to for now then…”

“Please, I’d need like three of your razors to shave my arms properly,” you huffed, stepping out of the closet and walking toward the window, “why’d I have to be born like this?”

“Baby… don’t say that, body hair is completely normal…”

You caught a glimpse of your unibrow in the bedroom window, turning away with frustration as your sad eyes met his, “So then why doesn’t it feel normal?”

“Because, sweetie… you haven’t embraced it yet,” he continued, taking your hands in his before drawing a feather-light line from your wrist to your elbow, “your arms look fine, okay? And if anyone doesn’t agree with that, they can take it up with my taekwondo skills…”

You smiled cheekily at his words, “So… I guess that means I’m getting kicked first then, right?”

“Never,” he chuckled, pulling you closer to him, “but… I’ll be more than willing to give you a lil kissy kiss instead…”

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you felt Jungwon snuggle his face into the crook of your neck, peppering kiss after kiss along the exposed skin. “Yang Jungwon, I command you to stop this madness right now!” You giggled playfully, stomach already hurting a bit from how much his tickly lips made you laugh…

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 for humble members of the itty bitty titty committee; It was just like any other ordinary night you'd spend with Riki. You two were cuddled up on the couch, sharing a bag of snacks as you browsed through the anime section on Netflix. Y’all had already binge watched just about every single series worth your time, but now, you found yourselves watching any and every trailer in search for your next big obsession.

You watched as your boyfriend flipped through the anime section with the remote in his hand, nothing but ample bosomed female characters flashing before your eyes.

Yes, those sorts of visuals were completely normal in anime, and yes, you and Niki usually loved simping over the provocatively animated characters together...

However, this time when he got to talking, it only made you feel insecure about yourself as you stared down at your own seemingly feeble chest, a tiny pout rising to your face.

“Riki,” you asked shyly while the trailer kept playing, “do you think my boobs are too small?”

He almost immediately whipped his head to face you, “What?”

“N-nothing…” you lied, looking back at the TV as if nothing happened.

That's when your boyfriend paused the show, “No, you definitely said something, ____,” he corrected, putting the remote down and letting his hand find your knee to comfort you.

You let out a sigh, resting your hand over his while looking into his eyes this time, “Would you like me better if I had bigger boobs?… be honest…”

“You're asking me this because of all the busty anime chicks we just saw, aren't you?” he asked back, which only made you sulk even more.

“I know, it's stupid but-”

“No, it's a normal feeling to have, ____... but trust me, your chest is the perfect size, babe... they're like... dainty little cherries, y’know?...”

Even though you knew he was only trying to cheer you up, you couldn’t help but side eye him in his moment. “Wowww, how romantic of you, Nishimura,” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

“Whatever, I know you like it when I compare you to foods... especially when I call you jellybean,” he smiled, right before smothering your cheek with the biggest kiss he could muster as you giggled beneath him, knowing that somewhere deep down in your heart, he was 100% right...

tysm for reading this quick lil fic !! ✗⚬ﾒ𝟶 a/n ℓօⓥe always ⋆⋆⋆ and feel free to check out my masterlist for more !!

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 💌 ) @squoxle @nikisdubblchococake @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33 @addictedtohobi @microwvdstrawb3rri3s

[ghost-recs]

can we get some bakugou recs 😊😊 (written and smaus pleaseee)

hello hellooo! oh man do i ever have some! you have no idea the can of worms you are opening my friend.

but first i am so sorry for how late this rec is! i wanted to get this done days ago, but the semester has been crazy packed. i'm going to get through all my asks one by one. thank you for your patience! anyways let's get into this !!

Bakugou Recs

Garden of Lungs (Hanahaki) by oweCrew [ao3]

synopsis: you have your whole life ahead of you, a promising future and jobs lined up after UA...but these stupid flowers are going to be the death of you, literally.

i flew through this fic so fast. it was the first time i had every heard of hanahaki disease and oof to my heart. i loved it!

Late Night Calls by fictionpls [ao3]

synopsis: much to bakugou's disdain, you skipped your meals again. tch, he's basically taking care of you at this point.

cute lil fluff oneshot with bakugou as your best friend...maybe more.

Nothing More, Nothing Less by @dekustowel

synopsis: bakugou made a big whoopsies. the only way to get out of it? fake date you, the internet's sweatheart, duh!

this smau idea has a hold on me. i'm a sucker for the fake dating trope. and i mean seriously, it's bakugou! [ongoing...]

Nerd (Affectionately) by @oniku-niku

synopsis: you're in love with bakugou, have been since you were kids. there was no use in hiding the truth. but did he have to be so rude about it??

most of this smau is a big ouch to the heart. but the drama gets heavier as the story goes on and i'm here for it! happy soft ending! :)

Speak by Kikyo851 [ao3]

synopsis: you could not believe that your soulmate was such a crude and violent person...just to spite the universe and him you decide not to say a word to your "soulmate."

soulmate au in which the first words that your soulmate says to you is written on your wrist. this fulfilled my needs of a bakugou soulmate au! so cute and it is complete!

Of Snowscapes & Explosions by sugarbun [ao3]

synopsis: you've been categorized as second to shoto todoroki ever since grade school. after a frustrated vent to bakugou and a few of his cracks revealing some of his own frustrations you realize that maybe you and him aren't so different after all.

guys....when i tell you this fic is the slowest slow burn. i feel like it's so accurate to how bakugou would actually fall for someone. sadly, this fic is unfished tho and hasn't been updated in a couple years😭 but you should read it anyways.

cover shot (through the heart) by @andypantsx3

cross posted on ao3 here! cover shot (through the heart) by andypantsx3

synopsis: you're the only one who can deal with bakugou's attitude in the industry. he hasn't found something that bothers you...until he starts flirting with you, hello??

model/celebrity au. super cute fic. i'm warning you this is much spicier than some of my other recs. mdni. (also check out this author's other works. they have a lot of top tier content!!)

Motherly Love by @kweenkatsuki-fics

synopsis: bakugou gives his mom a late night call to thank her. the reason why softens her heart greatly.

super soft lil drabble that just about brings me to tears everytime i read it. in love with bakugou fr.

déjà vu by @cashmoneyyysstuff

synopsis: bakugou thinks back to some oddly familiar memories with you. and one thing always stays the same, you both are together.

oneshot the made my jaw drop. hit me hard in the feels.

untitled oneshot by @honeypirate

synopsis: being paired with your number 1 enemy for a group project proved that the universe hated you. well might as well have some fun with this and make bakugou's life just as miserable.

college au oneshot. i am always down for a good enemies to lovers trope!

risky by @kusaka6e

synopsis: moving from another country to work as a pro hero in japan was not the easiest. and a certain hot headed hero only adds to your frustrations.

oneshot about the obvious grown tension between you and pro hero dynamite.

i hope you find something you like! sorry for the late rec, have a lovely day/night!

[ktsumu]

Idk what that other ask was asking for specifically but I would love you to share some SunaRin thoughts?

yes of course :3 here are some suna thoughts i’ve had as of late

sfw:

he documents a lot of your relationship — there’s an album in his phone for just you, and one for the both of you. one for just you because sometimes that’s all he wants to look at, one for the both of you because sometimes he can’t believe you’re his and he needs to have a wake up call

another reason he loves photo documentation is because it, in a way, immortalizes you both and it means a lot to him :3 i think he’s a very subtle guy too so you don’t really know these albums exist for a while

half of his phone storage is taken up because of you

has those couples widgets on his home screen but he likes the ones where you draw pictures back n forth ;^)

when you move into his place he lets you do whatever you want to it, very much ‘i want this to be your space too’ vibes

i feel like he carries things for you in his pocket / on his wrist when you go out, like a hair tie or anything else you tell him to

rubs your back when you can't sleep T^T this is self indulgent i don't care actually

also he loves movie nights / couch naps, like if you call for him and you can't immediately see him he's passed out on the couch 90% of the time

love of the couch is expanded upon slightly under the cut lol

i feel like he's a pretty good cook in the sense of very simple meals. like he takes something simple and spices it up with tricks that osamu taught him and is very proud of it. please kiss the cook

okay nsfw is under the cut if you wanted those thoughts too!!

nsfw:

was born to eat pussy

god put man on earth and said 'one of thy descendants will be suna rintaro. he shall be the chosen one'

great in bed in general, but heavy focus on the head game. the type to crave eating you out and do it for as long as you'll let him — he just rests his head against your thigh, laid on his stomach between your legs, and lazily eats you out til you push his head away (𖦹ᯅ𖦹) i need him holy sh

licks his chin and lips after too because yeah.

favourite position i personally think is literally whatever you find is the best for u. like whatever YOU say gives you the best comfort/stimulation, is what he's gonna opt for

but, that being said, i think he loves cowgirl and lazy, modified doggy positions (like leapfrog, loves to add a pillow under your hips)

anything with you on top too because suna, laid back with one arm bent and relaxed behind his head, watching you ride him with your hands on his chest? he'd see the light i'm afraid

BUT but he can also be a big missionary enjoyer because i think he loves lazy, lovey morning sex and even more so when you start it really casually like....it gets to him ok

couch sex. he loves how intimate it feels and really fucks with it. won't elaborate a ton but it's common in your guys' domain

not a grunter not a moaner, a groaner ♡

breathing gets a quicker when he's close, it's his tell LOL

talks you through it. he does i don't care. he's so sweet, but also he doesn't completely 'overload' you or overdo it, lets you cum on your own and enjoy the high but he just ... guides you through it with little bits of encouragement <3 a dream he is

sunarin my husband i love you

[thisisourlovestory]

Safe and Sound

Finnick Odair x reader soulmate AU

Summary: you are a victor from district 4. The Quarter Quell has just been announced. How will you cope with the turn of events coming your way.

Word count- 2.8k

Notes: Merry Christmas! Thank you to everyone who’s read this so far and to my beta reader who has hyped me up about this whole thing. I’m going to try and update once a week but occasionally it may take a bit longer or less depending on how much I work on it since I am writing it as I go. Hope you enjoy! Also who here knows how to make the masterlist thingymajobs? Because I don't and I want to make one

Chapter 2

A scream shattered the silence and my hand was up in the air before I even knew what I was doing as I uttered those four dreaded words.

“I volunteer as tribute!”

The second I said them Lysander was practically jumping in delight, a grin spread across his face as wide as can be as he proclaimed loudly.

“I believe we have a volunteer.” I stepped forward, ignoring the shocked looks Annie and Mags were throwing my way. Lysander babbled on and on for a few minutes about ‘how exciting for a victor to volunteer’, how ‘he was sure none of the other districts would have tributes’. I felt like throwing up, looking out into a sea of faces, most of them open mouthed, a few simply confused as if wondering who the hell I even was. I saw a couple of people who I used to know, refusing to meet my eyes. My ballet shoes hung by my side, a heavy weight pulling down, anchoring me to reality as my mind drifted.

I turned to Lysander and gave him a pathetic attempt at a smile, lips tilting upwards slightly, a flash of white teeth for a second. “Please,” he said, “Shake hands.”

I didn't realise what he said until Finnick stepped forward and held out his hand to me. My eyebrows furrowed and I bit my lip, twisting the sleeves of my cardigan again, holding out my other arm to hold his hand loosely before pulling it back quickly as I felt my mark burn slightly. He looked confused for a moment before his expression cleared and he put on a charming smile, waving to the crowd. As for me, I stood there silently, chewing on my lip worriedly, wondering why I volunteered, why I didn't even hesitate.

“Your tributes for the 75th annual Hunger Games!” Lysander yelled to the crowd over their obedient clapping as peacekeepers pointed guns at them, threatening to shoot. All of a sudden we were herded off stage and I was dragged to the same room I had been in all those years ago, the paint still peeling, a splintered chair and table on dusty stone. I took a few steps in and collapsed on the floor, chest heaving as I tried to take in deep breaths. I curled my hands into fists, nails cutting into the soft skin of my hands, a few tears dripping down my face but I heard heavy footsteps down the corridor and quickly composed myself, brushing away the tears and standing up, elegantly sitting down in the chair as the door opened. Mags walked in, escorted by a guard who muttered.

“Five minutes.” And closed the door behind him. Mags stared at me for a second before walking over and placing a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at her and she mouthed one word. Why?

I smiled slightly as I answered.

“She doesn't deserve to die. She needs to live and I'll do everything I can to get Finnick out and back to her.” Mags looked confused so I rolled up my sleeve and showed her my wrist. “He's my soulmate,” she blinked quickly and I continued,”And he doesn't love me but he loves her and they deserve to live.” She looked angry and somehow managed to croak out a few words.

“What about you?” I patted her hand, standing up and looking out the window.

“I don't matter, I just want him to be safe and sound. I want him to be happy, even if it's not with me.” She looked at me pityingly, brown eyes filled with emotion as she folded me into her arms; I broke down, sobbing silently into her shoulder, tears soaking the fabric. “I just can't let him die, not if I can do something about it.” I managed to get out between hiccuping sobs and sniffles. She comforted me gently, stroking my hair with wrinkled hands and all too soon it was time for her to go.

The door swung open and Mags scurried out before they could drag her away, the last thing I saw of her was her long grey hair before another person walked in and the door was slammed shut behind them. Annie stood in front of me. Long auburn hair tangled, sea green eyes gazing at me curiously. She took in my puffy eyes and red face streaked with tears saying nothing as she kneeled down and took my hands in hers.

“Why did you do that?” She asked quietly, not looking me in the eye, “Why would you give up your life?”

“We aren't so dissimilar you and I.” I spoke, removing my hands from hers and laying them on my knees. “The games,” my voice cracked,”The games left us both broken beyond belief. The difference between us is that you had someone there to build you back up after you came out. I didn't. Or I did, but they didn't care enough to stay. We've both been dropped and shattered on impact but you've been fixed, mostly, the cracks are still there and with the right push it'll all come crashing down. But me, I've got nobody and nothing left, everyone left me to crumble to pieces as if I would just be fine, but I'm not, I'm just a pile of broken glass waiting for someone to finally care and put me back together. So I volunteered. Because you have everything to lose; I’ve got nothing left.” Annie said nothing, just watched me carefully,

“I'll get Finnick out for you,” I whispered,”You don't have to worry about him. I promise.” The door opened and she was led out, throwing a last glance over her shoulder at me, a strange look in her eyes as if she knew something I didn’t.

I was left alone to my thoughts again. Wrapping the ribbons of my shoes around my hands repetitively. Wondering what it would be like this time around. Would I even have a chance at survival? I dismissed that one immediately, with victors like the ones from districts 1 and 2, plus Katniss and Peeta from last year, I wasn't getting out alive. I was good but not that good. I could throw knives perfectly, fight in hand to hand combat and tie complex knots with lengths of rope, I was even half decent at using a bow and arrow. But compared to others I was weak.

The door creaked open again but this time no one entered except some peacekeepers in their white uniforms and masks, they dragged me out, gloved hands twisting my skin. I shook my arms out of their hold and glared at them, they let me loose and marched me along the corridor to the exit where a car would be waiting. They opened the side door and pushed me in. My head knocked against the metal and I hissed in annoyance but said nothing. The car pulled away from the justice building and I stared out at it for the last time, the carved marble flawless and perfect but oh so cold. My eyes trailed over the shapes of people outside, cheering my name; screaming for the games to stop. They hadn't even known who I was before, why did they care now? Why did they care just as I was sent off to my death once again? Why did they care when all they had ever done was pretend I didn't exist?

How could they stand there and scream my name, their beloved victor, when they had never before known me? How dare they pretend to care about me. How dare they think I wanted this. How dare they congratulate me on my actions when the choice didn't even exist to begin with. In those moments I was filled with nothing but disgust for the people of my district. We were supposed to be united against the Capitol yet here they were excited for me to go back in. Granted there was the idea that if they didn't then they would be made an example of by peacekeepers for not complying with orders. But behind every forced action there is a planted seed that was simply nurtured to form the fully fledged evil.

I sighed, propping my head up on my hand as we entered the station, reporters from the Capitol waiting for the chance to get a shot of Finnick or I. We jolted to a stop and Finnick stepped calmly out of the car in front, waving to people, giving them his charming smile, playing up to his persona as the Capitol darling. I took a deep breath as he disappeared from sight, people screaming for one last look at him, and pushed down the handle to open the door. I stepped out and was immediately assaulted by loud noises, too loud. They ripped through my skull and I flinched while I walked along the pathway that was cleared for me. They screamed my name and they wouldn't stop, it echoed in my head, their voices like nails as they raked down the walls I had built up in my mind to block out the bad and keep the good close. The peacekeepers surrounded my shaking form, tiny compared to the crowds gathered; herded me to the platform where the train was waiting. Sleek and silver, like a bullet, and just as fast as one.

I stumbled over the gap where the platform ended and the train doors opened, allowing me to topple to the floor in a graceless heap. I groaned and sat up, pressing a hand to the side of my head and frowning in annoyance as I felt the slightest of bruises there. My feet slipped out of my sandals so I picked them up in one hand alongside my pointe shoes and pushed myself to a standing position leaning on the wall of the train. I took a minute to calm myself, mentally preparing for the interesting conversation that was sure to come when I walked into the next compartment. I dropped my head forwards and wiped a hand over my face before sighing and reaching out to the handle, pushing it down.

I stepped in and three sets of eyes locked on me, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Hi.” I cleared my throat and they resumed their conversation. I relaxed in relief and dropped into a chair at the table, immediately reaching out for a plate. I filled it with all kinds of foods, meat, pasta, vegetables and more. A luxury I couldn't bring myself to afford with the money I had won, food I tended to steer clear of because in my mind it belonged to the Capitol and eating it made me one of them. But I figured I was going to die soon so I might as well indulge while I could. I speared a piece of fish and potato and it was halfway to my mouth when I noticed eyes on me again. Lysander was giving me a look of wonder as he leaned forwards onto his hands.

“So Y/N, tell me why did you volunteer? We need to know so we can spin this story to give you the best chance of winning that we can you see.” He smiled and bit into a leg of chicken, tearing the meat away with his teeth. My mind blanked, I couldn't exactly tell him the real reason I volunteered, that would not go down well with the current company, I glanced over to Finnick and my eyes widened as our eyes connected for a split second before I snapped my gaze back to my plate. I shrugged my shoulders and shoved the food in my mouth. Lysander’s mouth twisted into a scowl at my disregard for him and Mags, seated next to him, smiled down at her plate.

I swallowed my food and sipped on water in a glass next to me before I answered his question

“I didn't want her to die.” He spluttered in delight.

“I can work with that. A story of two best friends, one worried for the other's safety so she volunteers to save her from certain death.” I shook my head at his words.

“No. We aren't friends. I just didn't think she deserved to die and that's the only story you're going to tell.”

“But, but, but,” Lysander stammered under my glare.

“But nothing,” I said calmly, “There is no story, I volunteered because I felt sorry for her, nothing more nothing less. Now if you'll excuse me,” I shoved the chair back and stood up, “I'm going to my room and I don't want to see you, until morning.” With that I stormed out of the compartment, slamming the door shut behind me, rattling the ornaments and pictures hanging on the walls. My footsteps were heavy as I almost ran along the corridor, I finally reached the door I wanted and stared at it, remembering how seven years ago I had stood in the exact same spot.

My thoughts were pretty different about being in the Hunger Games now. Back then I had had no choice so it was just an unfortunate circumstance I found myself in with the added threat of death. Now it was more of an actual game and I suppose that was the point, throw previous victors into an arena together, seasoned killers, guaranteed chaos would ensue. They'd have the perfect show, death upon death that would look interesting and be absolutely brutal because the executioners would all know what they were doing. It would be the most viewed year of the games in history. They’d be making hunters into performers, fighting to stay alive for the cameras. Doing anything to gain sponsors. It wouldn’t surprise me if some people went too far. But most of all, we’d be angry. Angry that we had to go back, they’d promised we were done and now it seemed they lied.

I pushed the door open and stepped into the room. It smelled of fresh peaches and vanilla, the white bedsheet pulled tightly across the mattress, light green comforter spread across the duvet. I gently closed the door behind me and threw my sandals on the floor. I leapt onto the bed, sinking into the mountain of pillows piled up near the headboard. A headboard engraved with swirls of waves and shells to represent district 4, I looked closer and on every wave was a set of initials and a date, the initials of every other district 4 tribute in the history of the games and the date they were reaped. A tradition upheld by every new victim. I traced over my initials on one of the waves and picked up the knife I had taken a few minutes ago, I picked a new wave and ripped into it, my initials carved as deeply as possible. A message that I was not going easy. I would go but I would fight every step of the way.

I chucked the knife down and admired my handiwork. I was no artist but if I were this would be my best piece. Rolling over I stood up and made my way to the wardrobe. Opening it I found an assortment of clothes and night dresses. I picked out a white one that fell loosely to my knees and pulled my pointe shoes on, tying the ribbons around my ankles and standing up. Humming a song, I rose onto my toes, hands lifting above my head as I twirled around, the skirt floating around me. I kicked one leg into the air, leaning to the other side and bringing my arms close to my body, curving them in. I danced for what seemed like hours, lost in a world of my own as I spun around in circles, sweeping my arms above my head and out in front of me. Finally growing dizzy I stopped, one foot turned out in front of me, the other pointed behind me as I let my arms drop slowly to my side, my humming stopped and I opened my eyes. Remembering the reason I was here, to help Finnick. All urge to dance left me as I quietly undid the knotted ribbons, pulling the shoes off and staring at my feet, blistered and bruised. Plasters taped on them to stop the cuts being infected. I climbed into the bed, pulling the sheets over my body, shivering as the cold fabric touched my skin and then burrowing further into the warmth it provided. I yanked the comforter closer. Rubbing my cheek on the fluffy material, hand reaching out to turn off the lights, switch just in reach making a sharp clicking sound as I flipped it. My eyes started to drift closed in the darkness, my limbs tired from the exhausting day and I fell into dark oblivion.

Taglist:

@nekee-lilac02 @hinata7346 @bambikitten @the-lonely-abyss @mxacegrey @m-maxie-ie @not-aya @camatchoum @maw1dk @avoxrising @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @somdreamy @thehairington86 @millzluvrs @val-writesstuff @erindiggory @reader-bookling123 @elisa20beth @maxinehufflepuffprincess @user123453226780536 @littleanubis21

If the tagging didn’t work or you want to be added to the taglist just let me know!

[macabr3-barbi3]

*gets on knees* hello,,,,, I am,, muy hungr y.......... priest vox one-shot PLEAAAAASE.. perhaps Vox has taken a more Catholic turn with Voxtech to capitalise on the fact that being redeemed has suddenly become extremely popular since the Hazbin Hotel was rebuilt ('TRUST US! with YOUR redemption'), he doesn't ACTUALLY believe in any of it of course but anything for a buck. Idk how reader would end up there LOL but I can't stop thinking about him using the most dirty religious euphemisms AND MAYBE USING A ROSARY TO BIND READER'S(OR HIS IF UR FEELING REAL FREAKY) WRISTS RUFF RUFF BARK BARK BARK I'm totally normal (I'm losing my mind)

HELLO FRIEND I LOVE THIS (AND YOU SINCE I KNOW WHO YOU ARE LOL)

disclaimer that I am not religious, I took most of these bible verses and things at face value- Vox doesn't care about using them correctly why should I LMAO

going to Hell for this one lads anyone wanna carpool?

Tags: blasphemy, priest kink, fucking in a church, improper use of rosary beads, confession that is not up to code, exhibitionism? if you squint? improper use of bible verses

HOT PRIEST VOX IN THE BANNER FROM @chefskjssart AND THE BANNER ITSELF FROM @fraugwinska I LOVE YOU GUYS ❤️❤️❤️

When you arrive in Hell as the result of a car accident, the first thing you see is a billboard- there’s a television on it, of all things, one with a face that wore a confident smirk under eyes that seemed to promise something. What exactly it was, you couldn’t tell, but the bright, flashing words next to him caught your attention, like you were sure they were supposed to: “VoxTek presents VeeLigion- TRUST US! With YOUR Redemption!”

You spend a couple days trying to get your bearings, and you determine that Hell fucking sucks- before falling you had been stabbed a grand total of zero times, and within 24 hours you’d had a knife in you twice. Which, TV did a terrible job at depicting stabbings; it wasn’t a soft gasp and a betrayed glance at the person holding the knife, it was a burning flash of pain and a scream that echoed in your head even after you stopped, even after the wound miraculously healed and left you with holes in your clothing that exposed unblemished skin.

TV also painted a pretty inaccurate portrait of Hell as a whole. Sure, you’d been stabbed a couple times but it wasn’t all fire and brimstone- everyone else mostly left you alone, a fox-faced woman had given you a bandage and a half eaten sandwich while you sat bleeding in an alley outside, there were bakeries and regular storefronts, and maybe a few more sex shops than you had been anticipating. But it was a whole society like it was when you were alive, albeit with maybe less rules and consequences.

You see more advertisements from the guy with the television head (Vox, you had picked up from the newspapers and magazines that littered the sidewalks), promises of salvation to be found in his newly built church in Pentagram City, redemption at a low cost. You had seen other ads, from a place called the Hazbin Hotel, but regardless of how different Hell was from what you had imagined, you still figured that the Devil was bad- his daughter couldn’t have been much better. And the Princess of Hell just didn’t catch your attention like Vox had; come on, his head was a television, what choice did you have but to look at him?

And it was no real surprise that you had ended up here, despite the years of Catholic school and nuns striking the fear of God into you when your parents had decided that you were too much trouble as a teen and shipped you off for a few years. You had done your time, did the prayers and shit with your skirt just an inch or two above the regulated length, and as soon as you had the chance you were out of there, back to the fun life you had enjoyed before…

Even if you did now have the voice of Sister Lucy in your head when you went down on someone, telling you that idle hands- and probably lips- should only be used in service of the Lord.

But Jesus, was some premarital sex really enough to damn you to this shithole? The more you thought about it, the more you wanted to find your way to the center of the city to find that Church. Maybe the whole redemption thing was bullshit, but also maybe since it was a church they could give you shelter. A place to hide from the chaos on the streets while you figured out what the fuck you were going to do. You didn’t think you needed food to survive, really, but you would do almost anything for a hot meal in your mouth just for the comfort of it.

After getting directions- and another fucking stab wound, where the fuck were people getting these knives?- you make your way to the VoxTek church, and here’s another point against the Hotel. The thing is massive and gorgeous, blue and white stained glass that covered the building reflecting the red of the pentagram in the sky, Vox’s likeness front and center above the intricately detailed doors. It’s pristine, and perfect, and you’re suddenly very self conscious about the state of yourself, covered in blood with clothes that are the wrong brand of ‘holey.’ But you’re already here and on the steps, so there’s not much else to do but climb them and reach for the doors.

A tablet pops in front of you, ‘AdamAI’ engraved across the top. “Welcome to the VeeLigion church,” the thing says, the voice bored and haughty. “Entry starts at $5.99.”

“You fucking charge just to come in?” Maybe you shouldn’t swear at what looks like some sort of angelic device but fuck, really?

“A small price to pay for salvation!” It says, and little wings flick out of the sides to flutter, like it was trying to distract you. “Come on, don’t you wanna go to Heaven? It fucking rocks up there- Hell is dirty and smelly and gross, and-”

“Yeah people just stab you like all the fucking time,” you mutter, “but I don’t have any money.”

“Plan B then- you can sign this screen right here-” Some sort of contract appears on the screen, the letters too small to read properly, with a line at the bottom. “And the matter of payment can be discussed at a later date, at the owner’s discretion.”

“That’s a little suspicious.”

“You could go get stabbed again,” it snarks, and a pen pops out of the top. “Or you could go to that shitty hotel that doesn’t know what the hell they’re doing, with Lucifer’s brat. Choice is yours.”

You have to admit that the pristine glow of the church seems more promising than what you had seen of the Hotel, so you sign the contract and the doors swing open without the creak of heavy wood- when you touch it on your way in you realize that it, too, is actually metal, manipulated to look like wood to sell the facade of the building. “Good luck,” the tablet chirps, followed by something that sounds suspiciously like “you’re going to need it” as the door slams shut behind you.

It’s eerily quiet inside the church, likely soundproofed since you can no longer hear anything that’s going on outside. There’s no one else inside, no priest or other sinners, the stage at the front of the chapel empty except for the obviously simulated sunlight that streams through the windows at the back. Despite the cash grab at the door, the place does feel divine. It’s quiet and peaceful, and beautiful beyond belief. You wander up to the front, looking around to see if there would be some sort of pastor or something to show you what, exactly, you were supposed to do- to give you answers, to show you some kind of mercy in this hellhole.

A door slams somewhere in the building, and gradually a voice gets louder as they approach the chapel. “-told you, Val, that the church was a waste of fuckin’ time,” they’re saying, “but did you listen? Of course not- you’re shoved so far up Angel’s twinky little ass lately it’s a wonder you have time to plan your fuckin’ ‘holy orgies’ or whatever the fuck you’re calling them-”

And there’s the television you had been seeing on the billboards and ads- Vox in the flesh, priest robes dripping off his frame, one of those little hats somehow attached to his flat head. Even with his eyebrows drawn down in irritation at whoever he was on the phone with, he still has an air of confidence and cockiness about him that you can admire- and you had seen some of the magazines declaring him the hottest in Hell, and know that he has clean lines of lean muscle hiding under those holy folds of fabric. He paces back and forth across the stage a few times, throwing insults and jabs into the phone in his hand, and then he looks up and finally notices you. 

“Oh fuck,” he says, eyes widening in surprise, and then- “not you, Valentino, Satan, fucking narcissist. Someone’s fucking here- yes, in the church- fuck it, no, I gotta deal with this.” And the phone is slipped into one of the pockets of the robe. His whole demeanor changes- his posture straightens, his eyes closing and his face rearranging into something softer, more peaceful as he looks down at you. 

“Welcome, lost lamb,” he says, and you could almost believe him if it weren’t for the glitch that crackles across his screen at the words. “How may I help to guide you today?”

“Um… I’m not totally sure,” you confess, and his eye twitches in irritation. “I saw some ads and I was curious about the idea of a church in Hell. If you can actually get redeemed here then, you know, I’d love to give it a try-“ 

You don’t even get to mention your almost ulterior motive before he fucking laughs at you, the sound echoing with the acoustics of the place. “Fuck, so you’re a real one then? Y’know how many people I’ve had sitting in these pews that don’t give two rats shit about redemption, just wanted to see the fancy new fucking building and watch one of the most powerful Overlords in Hell strut around in this stupid fucking thing?” He plucks at his robes, the fabric fluttering around his body. “And now I've got a real one. Imagine that. Okay!” 

He claps his hands together and a small bench emerges from the floor in front of the stage as he drops to sit on the edge of it, legs hanging off so his feet touch the floor. “Fucking kneel, then,” he says, gesturing to the cushion, “Don’t these things usually start with confession? I don’t have all day if you have like, a million sins to confess.”

“Oh, right.” This part at least you knew, even if it usually took place in a booth and the other person couldn’t see you. You hadn’t really been planning on confessing when you got here, but at least it was an easy part.

You watch him patiently, waiting for the usual blessing, until he stares at you expectantly. “Well?”

Guess you were skipping that, then. “Um, okay. Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” He waves a hand at you; a silent ‘get-on-with-it’ if you’ve ever seen one. “It’s been… ten years? Since my last confession-“

“No fucking wonder you ended up down here, doll,” he mutters, head tilted towards the ceiling and not even looking at you, “you were one of those ‘Easter and Christmas’ church-goers, huh? And you thought that would be enough.”

“Hey, fuck you,” you snap, flushing at how easy you were to pin down like that, and his head snaps back down to look at you, an eyebrow raised like he’s fucking bored. “Aren’t you supposed to be here to help?”

“Does it matter? Besides, I’m new to the job; sue me for a learning curve. Come on- what sins are you confessing?” His screen brightens suddenly, a grin directed at you that steals your breath. “Was it something fun? You kill someone?” His eyes go hooded, expression lascivious as he looks down at you. “Impure thoughts, maybe? Impure actions?” His gaze lingers on your skirt before he meets your eyes again.

Your face heats- you’re very aware, suddenly, of the position that you’re in- knelt on the floor in an empty church, the priest as far from saintly as one could get and hot as Hell even with his TV head, his knees spread apart where he sits on the edge of the stage and you essentially between them. Images race lightning quick through your head- pushing his robes up around his thighs, leaning forward with your tongue out to show him just how impure your actions could be-

A bell rings overhead and you’re reminded that you’re in a fucking Church, even if it is one in the center of Hell. You had come here for help, not sex. You shove the thoughts back. “Can you just- be a normal priest, please? With the bible verses and shit so I can feel like this wasn’t a total waste of whatever I signed before coming in here.”

He sighs but seems to acquiesce, placing his palms on the stage and leaning back. “That’s a yes if I’ve ever heard one! Give me one sec…” His screen changes, words and images flying across it at lightning speed while he taps his fingers on the floor under his hands, sometimes slowing on a particular passage, and it occurs to you what he’s doing- he’s searching the fucking internet for a bible passage.

“Ha! This should do-” His face comes back, expression serene, and he leans forward and places a finger under your chin to tilt your head up, closer to him now  than you would have expected. “I know how you feel, my child, tempted by the sins of the flesh,” he says in an exaggerated tone. “‘For we do not have a High Priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses.” He winks at you with that smirk of his back in place, “but was in all points tempted as we are, yet without sin.’”

You blush but can’t turn away with his finger on you, keeping you tilted to face him. “‘Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need.’ Is that what you’re here for, doll? Mercy?”

Your mouth runs dry, and you can see the way his eyes track the movement of your throat when you swallow. “Y-yes,” you stammer, and your voice is weaker than you would like, your eyes half-lidded as you look up at him. “Mercy-” 

“In your time of need,” he offers, and when you close your eyes you feel his thumb trace over your cheekbone, his hand warm against your skin. “What do you need? Cause I’ll tell you- all flushed and trembling and sweet on your knees here? I don’t think a bible verse is gonna cut it, babe.”

He almost slides off the stage, dropping to a crouch so he’s level with your face. “Sir-” you try, and his grin is wide and dangerous.

“Father,” he corrects you, and if you weren’t already on your knees you would have fallen to them. “And I believe you still have to confess before we can move on.” He reaches into the pocket of his robes and pulls out something long and dangling- a rosary, you realize, and you can’t stop the flash of heat that rips through you despite the blatant blasphemy of what was happening. “Give me your hands.” And you do, helpless to refuse as he winds the beads around your wrists with the cross dangling between your arms as he finishes. He stands then, using a hand on the beads to pull you from the cushion and guide you forward on your knees when he sits on the edge of the stage again. You’re properly between his legs now, the fabric of his robes almost touching your nose, and he’s holding your bound hands atop one of his knees. 

“This is just to keep you focused,” he says when he sees you watching where he has them restrained in one hand. His other hand pets across your head, a finger briefly touching one of the horns that you had grown upon arrival. “Now then- tell me of your temptations, little lamb, and I’ll give you absolution. I’ll give you the mercy you want.” When he meets your wide eyes again, he winks. “Maybe something else, too.”

“Fuck, I’m- God, okay. Okay. Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” You take Vox’s silence as a sign to continue, his hand still gently brushing through your hair, the other keeping a tight grip on the rosary beads. “It’s been ten years since my last confession.”

“Go on, my child,” Vox says, and fuck, it feels wrong that the words of a priest- regardless of how legitimate he was- are making your core clench, a strong jolt of arousal bolting through your body. “What brings you to confession today?”

You try not to tremble as you continue. “I have… behaved immorally in the past. And even now I’m having impure thoughts,” you whisper, and you hear Vox suppress a groan in front of you. “I- I know the Bible says not to fall prey to temptation, but it’s so hard to resist. I can’t stop myself from thinking about it- about what I’ve done. And about you.”

The fingers in your hair are gone, grip tightening on the one holding the rosary. “This is troubling indeed,” he says, like you can’t hear the smirk in his voice. “Tell me what you’ve done- what you’ve thought about. What you want now. Be specific.” There’s a soft rustling of fabric before you, a whisper of air across your face as Vox moves. You make an inquisitive noise and he shushes you. “Keep your eyes closed, dear- imagine you confess to the Lord himself. Show him how earnest you are in your devotion.”

You let your face relax, brow going slack and keeping your face tipped up. You can see through your eyelids the shine of the sunlight through the windows, artificial but warming and holy nonetheless. And like this you ‘confess.’ “I’m thinking about you touching me- in s-sinful ways. Your hands on my skin the way that others have touched me. It feels good, I can’t help but want it…” You feel a little ridiculous even with the flush of your cheeks and the need overtaking your body.

“Fuck,” you hear Vox whisper, and there’s another faint sound of movement that you can’t place with your eyes closed. “How did these f-f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘t͖͖̠̬͛h̨͚͚͖ͯ̒̄͗͞y͙͙̪̰ͫ͌́ sinners touch you?” His voice seems to fail him at the thought, a crackle in his vocals that betrays how much he’s invested in the moment.

“Like a harlot,” you say, and you hear a full groan escape him, a tug to the rosary when he leans a bit down towards you. His face is closer now; you can feel his hot breath as it ghosts across your lips when you speak. “They touched my bare skin- sometimes I lie awake at night and trace the path their hands have taken over my body, over my breasts, between my legs. I’ve let them fuck me, bent over tables and spread across beds, and God, I want more.” You let your voice take on a pleading edge. “I want it to be you- please, won’t you help me?”

You let your eyes flutter open, and the sight before you steals your breathe- Vox’s eyes are trained on you, his mouth hanging open with his face screwed up in pleasure as he fists his cock inches from your face, his robes drawn up over his thighs to jerk himself off in time with your confession. When he notices you watching him he smiles, all teeth and dripping saliva, looking more and more like the agent of damnation that he is than the holy man he’s pretending to be. “F̼̼͓̙ͤ̋̅̚͞͞ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧa͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟ n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥo͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞t͖͖̠̬͛,” he growls, his vocals once again corrupted and fried when he speaks. “‘No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. G-G̯̯̩̙͆ͣ͟o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞d̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓ is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability-’” The last words are accompanied with a harder thrust of his hips, bringing him closer to the edge of the stage, the head of his prick nearly brushing your lips before its covered with his fingers as he continues to stroke. “‘But with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.’”

You know what he’s going for, but… “I think in this instance, ‘enduring it’ would mean not giving in to the temptation,” you murmur, and you let your tongue ghost over his hand when it gets within reach, just able to taste the saltiness of his precum on his fingers. “But I think I’m weak to it, Father- would you forgive me if I can’t resist?”

Static flashes across his screen for a moment. “Fuck,” he pants when he sees that you’ve kept your tongue extended, waiting for him. He loses the haughty, holy edge to his voice as his fingers tighten their grip, less of a stroke now to let the head of his dick tap against your tongue a couple times. “Can’t fuckin’ think straight like this, Satan- how am I supposed to keep this shit up when you look at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like a devout whore praying for a cock in your throat,” he snarls, and releases the hand keeping hold on the rosary to cup your face. You waste no time in bringing your bound hands up under your skirt, shoving your panties to the side with trembling fingers to rub at your clit. The angle is all wrong, but any friction is good friction at this point, and Vox laughs breathlessly at the desperate way that you rock against your hands with your head held in his. “I might not be God but I can answer that fuckin’ prayer if you want.”

The way you shift to get a better angle to slide a finger into yourself brings you closer, your head resting more heavily in his palm, and you can’t resist giving him a wink- “Promise you’ll give me my absolution after?” You let your mouth fall slack, and groan around the length of him as he pushes past your lips, both of his hands abandoning their respective tasks to tangle in the strands of your hair and keep you still.

“I’ll give it to you, doll, I’ll fuckin’ give you a͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘ o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞ i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟t͖͖̠̬͛.” He guides himself in further, deeper, until the head of his dick is just bumping against the back of your throat, whorish whines escaping the scant space between your lips when he starts to buck his hips, sucking to the best of your ability while you ride your own fingers and try to work your tongue against the solid erection that’s taken up a temporary residence in your mouth. His hands fist in your hair and tug you closer, your nose bumping the sharp lines of his abdomen and the solid weight of his balls resting against your chin with every jerk forward. A particularly hard thrust has your gag reflex triggering, the channel of your throat convulsing and fluttering around the head of his cock while his head throws back with a moan.

Tears prick at your eyes- your orgasm is a distant, intangible thing, the pleasure from your fingers sweet but not even close to what you needed, whimpering and drooling around Vox’s cock in a way that echoed around the beautiful chapel. When you look up at him his eyes are wide and frantic, harsh moans falling from his mouth and rumbling through his body so you could feel it against your nose pressed into his pelvis the way you are. 

A hand slides forward to brush at your tears, a smile more befitting the devil than any kind of priest taking up Vox’s screen, red lines of what could be drool dripping off the sides. “Fuck, gonna cum- you want it, angel? Your a͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎b͔͔̳͈̊̆ͥ͂͜͝s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅo͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡t͖͖̠̬͛i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥ?” You can’t speak with his cock filling your mouth so fully, so you nod the best you can and grind your hips down onto your fingers, still bound together with the rosary. He chuckles low, once again keeping your head still so he can pound into the wet heat you’ve provided to him, the muscles of your throat clenching down every time he pushes far enough back. “‘Repent and be baptized, e-every one of you-’” he starts, the silky skin of his erection sliding pleasantly over your tongue a final time, then he stills. His cock twitches, and there’s a jet of hot, bitter liquid spilling across your tongue before he pulls out completely. “‘In the name of J̸̡̡̟͑ͭ̄͘ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧs̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅụ̴̴̾̀͟͡s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅ Ch̨͚͚͖ͯ̒̄͗͞ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅt͖͖̠̬͛, for the forgiveness of your sins.’” There’s another pulse of cum that lands on your cheek as he pulls back, his thumb coming up to smear it on your skin and then dip into your mouth for you to suck it clean as his cock gives one final twitch, a weak spurt against your lips closed around his thumb. “‘And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit,’” he finishes in his normal voice, that cocky smirk back on his screen when he finally pulls all the way back.

You lick your lips, rid yourself of the remnants of his release that you can reach. “Is that what that was? You don’t look much like the Holy Spirit to me.”

He groans looking down at you, the hand still in your hair petting almost affectionately through the strands. “We make do with what we have in Hell,” he says. His eyes flick down to your lap, where you still have two fingers poorly sunk into your pussy and are rocking back and forth on them. “Don’t worry, doll, you’ll still-”

He freeze, some notice popping up in one of the upper corners of his screen, and he shakes his head and groans as it clears away. “Quiet- someone’s at the door,” he murmurs, and takes his hands off you entirely.

You suppress a groan at the lack of contact,  fingers momentarily stilling and cocking an eyebrow at him. “How can you tell?” There’s no knock resounding through the building, no bells or chimes, and he holds a finger to his lips.

“I get an alert when someone interacts with the AdamAI. Just hold on a sec-”

There’s an audible gasp from the sinner that enters the church, and Vox looks down at you with a wicked smile. “Keep praying, my child,” he says softly, “and we’ll resume our discussion on the matter of your ‘repentance’ soon.” He stands to his full height and with a swish of his robes he’s gone, approaching the newcomer behind you and speaking in hushed tones- you catch something about a ‘private prayer session’ and resist the urge to snort, instead shifting a bit to get your thumb against your clit and rub soft circles. You don’t think you can cum like this but it's nice, sweet little zaps of pleasure that start at your core and echo through your body like the acoustics of the church you kneel in. You bite your lip to keep the sounds from escaping you as they talk, the low timbre of Vox’s voice making your body hum and tingle remembering the way he had moaned and clutched at your hair as he chased his release with your mouth around him.

Fuck, if Sister Lucy could have seen you now she would probably have an aneurysm. But its not her words echoing in your brain right now- it’s Vox’s soft “keep praying” that has your hands unable to stay still, your hips jerking minutely while you reach futilely for the edge of your pleasure, to tumble headfirst into it.

It takes a moment for you to realize that the Church is silent once again, and when you look up- and up and up, your head tilting all the way back like you’re searching for God himself in the rafters- Vox towers over you from behind, his eyes dark and hungry. He drops to his knees, a resounding crack on the floor as he reaches for you, his hand wrapping around the front of your throat to keep your head tilted back, and a low growl rumbles from his chest when he feels you swallow against his palm. “Such a well behaved lamb, to stick to your prays so devotedly in the presence of others,” he whispers, his tongue curling over the shell of your ear, and now that you’re alone there’s no shame in the desperate moan that you let loose- the way he says ‘lamb’ is so sickeningly sweet and exaggerated that you know the word he wants to use is ‘slut.’ “What kind of shepherd would I be if I didn’t give you a reward?”

His other hand comes down to grab the rosary, pulling your fingers from the slick heat of your cunt and bring them to his mouth- his tongue curls around them, the lewd sound of him sucking the juices from your digits right next to your ear, causing heat to pool in your lower stomach. Once he’s satisfied, he hoists you up with his grip on them, spinning you so that you’re facing him and pinning you to the edge of the stage. “Thought the ‘baptism’ was my gift,” you say as he lifts your legs up around his waist, shoving your skirt out of the way and just tearing your panties off your body, exposing you to the cool air of the church. “You should keep your metaphors straight.”

“Come on, I’m fuckin’ trying,” he mutters, pressing his screen to your forehead so you’re breathing in the same air. “Didn’t Jesus say some shit like ‘choose words that bring peace, not conflict’ or something? Take that holy advice, stop poking holes in my sermon, and let me show you Heaven.” He leans in before you can respond to tangle his tongue with yours, and considering where you are and what you’re doing, kissing a television is hardly the weirdest thing to happen to you today. It’s pleasant, even, a light hum of static where your lips meet his, his tongue almost vibrating with concealed electricity as he licks into your mouth like he’s trying to taste his own cum in the back of your throat.

When he pulls back for your answer, you can’t resist the truth- “That was Buddhism,” you deadpan, and laugh when static crackles across his body, a renewed erection pushing into your thigh when he uses your bound hands to lay you flat on the stage. He fumbles with his robes to get them up and around his waist again, and the laughter dies in your throat as the silky smooth head of his cock bumps against your drenched folds.

“You know a lot about religion for someone that seems to only know how to be on her knees for one thing,” he murmurs, and it's both shame and heat that flashes through you at the words while he slides his length back and forth through your wetness, pressing lightly against your clit and retreating, teasing. “Let’s see how long you can keep that up while I’m fucking the thoughts out of that pretty head, hm? Gimme a Bible passage since you know so much, dollface.”

“I don’t have access to the internet in my brain like some people but I’ll do my be- ahhh, fuck-” Vox cuts off your sentence with a solid thrust of his hips, the tip of his prick finally slipping in, and he works it in slowly, letting you adjust to it a few inches at a time until he’s buried to the hilt in your wet cunt and breathing heavily against your neck. “Oh God-”

“Thought taking the Lord’s name in vain was a sin,” he breathes, and licks down the column of your throat. He pulls back a little, the drag of him inside of you a delicious burn before he snaps forward again, punching the air from your lungs. He maneuvers the fingers of the hand still holding the rosary to press the wooden cross into your palms. “Come on, angel, give me something good.”

It’s admittedly hard to think with the way that he pistons into you, hips angled just right to hit that sweet spot inside that you had been missing with your bound hands, his free hand digging bruises into the flesh of your hip. You blurt out the first thing that comes to mind- “‘A-All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for- fuck, for instruction, for conviction, for correction, and for training in right-righteousness,’” you manage through the pleasure that courses through you, and Vox laughs, the action causing his body to shake against you. 

“Something better,” he demands, still drilling his cock into your pussy, hard thrusts that make your vision waver and your breath catch in your throat- how he expects you to talk during that, you weren’t sure, but you would do your damndest as you search your memory for something else.

“Fuck, uhhh… ‘If you do away with the yoke of oppression, with pointing finger… and malicious talk, and if you spend yourself on behalf of the hungry-’” You lose focus on the words you can see behind your eyelids when the hand leaves your hip to press a clawed finger to your swollen clit, a firm circling that has you choking on the words before they can finish leaving your lips. A whimper escapes instead, and Vox’s grin is wide and hungry as he stares down at you.

“‘And satisfy the needs of the oppressed,’” he continues for you, “come on, little lamb, you know the rest.”

“‘Then your light will rise in the darkness, and your light become like the noonday.’” Every muscle is tense, waiting for the thread to snap as Vox continues to fuck into you like a man possessed, his tongue lathing over whatever bits of skin he can reach. You can feel the orgasm crackling like electricity down your spine, unsure if that’s a side effect of Vox’s half-machine body or just how fucking good it feels. Either way, the cusp of release has never felt like this before, like you might pass out from the strength of it, from how all consuming the pleasure is before the peak has even hit.

The pressure against your sweet spots- inside and outside- intensifies suddenly when Vox tilts his hips, pressing down harder and slamming his thick cock against that bundle of nerves inside, the wet sounds of your coupling all that you can hear over your voice and his grunts of effort. “‘The lord will guide you always; he will… s-atisfy your needs in a- in a- oh fuck, God, Vox-”

You want the face he’s making framed in the living room of wherever you end up living in Hell; he could almost be a real priest with the expression of worship that’s taking over his screen, looking down at you like you’re Heaven incarnate. “F̼̼͓̙ͤ̋̅̚͞͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡c̨̨̣̮̝̈́̔ͯ̀͂k̼̼̞̦̞̼̔, d̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘, that’s right; cum on my cock, sweetheart, a͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥg̬̬̱ͩ͋͟͟ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧl͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘, fuck-”    

It’s just as all consuming as you expected- even more so as you tip over the edge into blissful ecstasy, every part of your body clenching down, your hands on the beads, your legs around Vox’s waist, your walls around the hard length still pounding away at you. You’re not even a little embarrassed about the echoing of your cries as you cum, the sound bouncing off the walls of the church and coming back to you and Vox, who’s chasing his own release in the tight clench of your pussy. The lewd, wet sounds intensify suddenly, sharply, the evidence of your orgasm drenching the robes bunched around Vox’s thighs. A high pitched noise emits from him, and his screen goes dark when he follows you over the edge, hot pulses of heat into your slick cunt, walls fluttering and spasming and wringing every last drop of cum from him, resting thick and warm inside of you as his head drops down to your chest and the entire building seems to just power down.

You fiddle with the rosary beads in your hands, trying to see if you can get them undone on your own- and yes, there they go, a quick twist of the wrist and they’re sliding along your skin, your wrists sore where they had been digging in this whole time. His grip on the beads had slackened as well, so you pull out of his grasp and let your hands run down his body, properly touching him for the first time- and it was well worth the wait, even through the priest robes. His muscles felt firm to the touch, the skin of his arms soft where his sleeves had ridden up, and the hot air coming off his head when you traced your fingers along the ports and wires on the back of it was oddly pleasant.

“You keep touching me like that,” he mumbles against your chest, and you feel his dick twitch where it’s seated inside you still, “and you can be the one to explain to my business partners why power’s down across Pentagram City.” The building flickers back on slowly, the simulated sunshine once again streaming from the windows as Vox boots back up, a loading screen flashing on his face before it turns back into his eyes and mouth, quirked up at the sides while you run your fingers over his body and head. “Gimme like half an hour and we can go again without blacking out both rings of Pride, maybe.”

You laugh when he pulls out, collapsing in the space next to you, the stupid little hat tumbling off in the process while he adjusts his robes. “‘Though I sit in darkness, the Lord will be my light,’” you quote. “Maybe a power outage will bring more people to the Church, you could play that up on your advertisements- then if we regularly fuck there’s a business aspect.”

His chuckle echoes in the chapel. “Where have you been all my afterlife?” He jokes, and his clawed fingers give yours a squeeze when they come down to your sides. “I know you’re probably half kidding but listen, I could use some of that religious knowledge if Val and Velvette insist on making me do this once a week- the fucking doesn’t always have to be a part of it, but-”

“Listen, if that offer comes with a place to sleep and a hot meal every once in a while I’m down.” You think back to the screen you had signed before coming into the church- “Shit, unless that tablet I signed means I don’t get a say? Guess I should have looked at it a little closer-”

“Oh, that.” He has the decency to look a little ashamed as he pulls something up on his screen, making a note before closing it again. “Sorry, just a contingency- if we didn’t have a way for financially challenged sinners to get here that would severely limit our target market so we added that contract as an option. Technically your soul is now owned three ways by the Vees as a whole until terms are settled, but we’ll renegotiate, figure something else out.”

“‘Give to everyone who begs from you, and from one who takes away your goods do not demand them back,’” you quote at him- “you help me out and I’ll help you.”

“Deal.” He stands and pulls you up with him, and you place the hat back onto his head- it snaps into place with a soft click that you laugh at- “Magnets, babe, I work with what I have”- while he leads you to the back of the church to clean up and talk about where you would be going from here.

Bonus

You’re laying reclined on Vox’s living room couch a few days later, wearing one of his t-shirts and nothing else while he pours a couple drinks for you. All things considered, going to the church that day had worked out well. You weren’t ‘dating’ Vox, but he was keeping you off the street, fed, and fucked, so you didn’t have much room to complain. Every once in a while you would go over some common Bible passages with him, try to play out a full confession so he could see how it was actually supposed to go to try and help with the church thing, but because of how you met you could hardly get out “forgive me, Father” before Vox was hard and pulling at your clothes.

He’s bitching about it now as he mixes things in glasses at the kitchen counter when his apartment door flies open and Velvette strolls in. “Vox, babe, the fuck are you doin’ at that fuckin’ church? Your ratings are absolute shite compared to the stand-ins we have and that should not be the fuckin’ case.”

He immediately jumps on the defensive. “Imagine that- maybe its because I’m not a real fucking priest? God forbid it take me a fucking minute to learn the shit.”

You pipe up from the couch, tipping your head back over the arm to look at Vox and Velvette upside down. “A good start would be not taking the Lord’s name in vain.”

“Traitor,” he hisses at you, and the demoness doubles over in laughter when static sparks between his antennae as he whips in your direction. “And you’re one to fucking talk- remind me how we met again?”

“You sure you wanna do that while your friend is here, Vox? I can live with the blasphemy of fucking in a church but I draw the line at full blown exhibitionism.” Velvette wipes a tear from her eyes while Vox’s screen tints pink. “And besides- we’re working on it, aren’t we, Father?”

Velvette’s irritated grumbling is ignored as Vox pushes her back out the door and approaches you on the couch, curling his claws into your hair, coaxing you to your knees for another confession.

[ino-takumas-baggy-sweater]

A Second Chance, A Father's Curse - Part 3 (Ryomen Sukuna x Reader)

I'm trying so hard not to burn myself out on writing because I've written and posted so much the past few weeks. which is a really short amount of time for me, also I'm going away for about a week which means I won't be able to write, so hopefully by the time I come back I'll be refreshed and ready to write more! In the meantime enjoy part 3 :)

Part 2 here

Warnings: sukuna is a volatile lil shit, possibly incorrect descriptions of disabilities? i did do a bit of research but also it's a lot of heavy headcanoning

Word count: 3.6k

“Have you seen the news?” “Prince Ryomen L/n…” “Why do you think he changed his last name?” “He’s part of Iqoria now, whether he meant it or not,” “Surely there’s an explanation for it,” “There must be, but he’s here now and he’ll be a great asset if he knows what he’s doing,” “That is true, I suppose we should just trust the King, if he trusts him with Princess L/n then we should too,”

There have been no shortage of murmurings in the streets about the sudden and unexpected marriage and arrival of the newlywed Ryomen L/n. It’s only been a couple of days, the people will adjust. You’re making sure that you take the time to walk him around the castle and actually get to know him before you take up the traditional clan tattoos that will bind the pair of you to Iqoria, of which he holds a curious fascination.

“What are the origins of your clan tattoos?” He asks on the second morning. A lovely warm day, you’ve chosen a light dress and a parasol to accompany you on your walk through the gardens. You look over to him beside you, the pair of you hidden amongst the bushes as you sit together on a shaded bench, “There are a few different opinions and accounts, but I believe the most popular stems back to an ancient era of the kingdom where curses were much more abundant than they are currently."

"One of my female ancestors centuries ago used ink to disguise herself and played pretend as a fierce and strong curse, almost acting as a god, and she led great numbers of them to their destruction to protect her village. Adenfast is said to be named after that village, but the original location is unknown,” You explain.

“Have they changed much over the years?” He has taken your hand and is tracing his thumb over the lines on your wrist, “Not as far as I know, I know a few lines here and there that came from specific people from my family tree because of things they achieved, but it’s mostly stayed the same,” You point to your wrists, the two thick black bands there prominent, “These were added by my great great grandmother, as protection for the young children in the family, two lines done at age ten and then renewed after marriage,”

He smirks, but it’s softer than it has been, “Interesting…” He murmurs. “How will you be incorporating your clans tattoos into mine?” You ask quietly, because ultimately it’s his decision, and you’re already fearing his answer. He just shrugs, “Not sure,” He looks away, still holding your hand, “It all doesn’t feel real,” He murmurs. “Freedom?” You squeeze his hand gently.

He nods, his gaze traveling around the quiet gardens as you take in the moment. He’s been skittish, he flinched when your father raised his voice at dinner the night before and you’d made sure to scold your father afterwards. You can always sense the storm within him, he can’t easily suppress his energy and you’ve had to deal with one other outburst than the one on the journey here.

He’d been here only a day, his sleep was restless and this you knew because you spent that night in the same bed together in lieu of the wasted night spent in a carriage. Nothing happened between the two of you, but he jolted the both of you awake in the early hours of the morning after a nightmare. The sun hadn’t risen, his face was barely visible in the dim starlight creeping through the window, but you could feel his sadness. He wouldn’t tell you what it was, he didn’t say a word, just allowed you to pull him against you and hide his face in your chest. His outburst later that day was aimed at Geto, who’d foolishly commented on his younger brothers.

“Does your father not see your younger brothers the way he sees his precious eldest heirs?” He’d said during one of your tutelage sessions with Gojo in which Ryomen was watching from the sidelines, and you knew he was deliberately stepping over a line. You thought Geto was better than that, but after this happened you weren’t sure you could trust him in the same way you always had.

You felt Ryomen coming up behind you and stepped to put yourself between them with a glare in your eyes before Ryomen could even think about throwing a punch, “Suguru Geto, you know better than that, do I have to tell my father about this?!” You had shouted. His eyes had widened and he’d dropped to a knee, immediately apologising. He clearly hadn’t expected you to support your husband. You suppose he held a grudge against the man for his actions towards you on the journey to Iqoria and thought you would share these reservations, but you refused to stand for it. “You fucking bastard, never speak of my brothers again, do you hear me?!” Ryomen spat over your shoulder, “My brothers are better men than you will ever be, I can fucking smell the hatred that you exude,”

You also didn’t appreciate the accusation that came from Ryomen but you let it slide, you’d seen his last interaction with his brothers and knew it still rubbed him raw to even think about them. “We’re done here, Geto I will speak with you at a later time,” You turned and herded Ryomen out of the room. His eyes held that familiar tint of red at the edges of his irises and his energy had flared to such a level that you’d taken him out to the rear of the castle, where the guards trained, and he had destroyed a wooden dummy halfway across the courtyard beyond recognition within mere seconds of arrival.

He was breathing heavily when he finally looked back at you, and you refused to look away or show you were afraid. He was in pain, and you needed to let him work through it and seek help only where he wanted it. “Let’s not tell anyone about that,” You nodded vaguely in the direction of where the dummy used to be as he returned to your side, his breath ragged and sweat dripping down his face and neck.

He nodded in response, swallowing thickly, “I’m sorry,” He mutters, “You shouldn’t have to see me like this,” “Is that your technique?” You asked, gaze flitting to the pieces of the dummy. He looked away and you didn’t question him further, you just took his hand and lead him into the castle to force him into a bath.

Back in the present as you’re reminded of the fear in his eyes, you look back to him, “Are you… afraid of yourself?” You murmur. He looks like a kicked puppy when he turns to you and your eyes widen, “Sorry! Sorry, I take it back, you don’t have to answer that,” He clutches your hand just a little tighter, his knuckles going white and his lips set in a thin line, “Yes,” He states, his voice shaky, “I am afraid of myself,”

“I’m afraid of what I might do to you if I’m left unchecked,” He continues, “I’m afraid of hurting you and lashing out at the people around me because I still feel like a caged wolf even though the reality of my situation has changed,” “I hope you can one day see me as home,” You say, putting your parasol down to reach your hand up to his cheek, “I know it will be hard, and I promise I will know you down to your core one day, but there is no rush,” He nudges his nose against your palm for a moment, “I am first and foremost your new friend, and I want only to be your strongest ally,”

He nods, “Thank you,” He whispers softly. “Princess Y/n!” The shout of your name shatters the small bubble of peace around the two of you. You drop your hand from his face but keep your fingers intertwined as you stand. A young maid around your age that you grew up with, Belinda, comes racing around a dense rosebush and comes to a skidding halt when she spots you. She bows for a moment, “Your father has requested your presence for the application of the L/n clan tattoos,” She informs you and you hand your parasol to her, “Thank you for letting me know, take this to my closet and we will make our way to the throne room,”

She darts off with the parasol in hand and you link arms with Ryomen as he stands again, leading you back into the castle. Once in the throne room, you’re greeted by the pair of artists responsible for both your and your brother’s tattoos, “Ah Princess Y/n, and Prince Ryomen, an honour it is,” The couple bow as your father stands and opens his arms, “My children, it is time,” He smiles widely, “See to this duty with dignity,” You curtsey to the tattoo artists before they lead the two of you to a room dimly lit with candles.

“As you aren’t the Crown Prince and Princess, this isn’t considered an extravagantly formal affair,” The woman assures you, “You may speak freely with one another while we work, there are a few rituals we will conduct during and after the inking process, but nothing remarkable,” The tattoo artists are specially chosen for their artistic abilities and their knowledge of cursed energy, as a reverse cursed technique is needed for royal family tattoos which are expected to appear to the public within the first twenty four hours of application.

“If you please,” The other artist, the man who gave you your wristbands when you were ten, gestures to the outline of a person on a poster you didn’t even notice at first on the wall. It’s not quite life size, just smaller than you, but it shows you the complete map of tattoos that you will be getting for the L/n clan including a back view just beside it.

Bands on your upper arms and around your shoulders as well as a large spot on your shoulders, two sharp parallel streaks down your abdomen with matching lines reflected on the small of your back, two broken lines that wrap over your shoulders like overall straps and veer up and then down again just below your collarbone on your breasts. You’d always known about the facial tattoos, the lines that follow the jaw bone, the emblem in the centre of the forehead that was said to represent wisdom, and the line over the nose, but you’d always seem then as quite delicate and symbolic of the fragility of life.

The tattoos hidden beneath the clothing were thick and strong, reminiscent of the ones on your wrists that were there for protection. These were the tattoos of fierce and noble protectors. Those who would risk their lives to keep the weak safe. Your family was strong, a fact perhaps forgotten in times of peace, and this reminder gives you a boost of confidence as you begin stripping down to just your bottom half undergarments. There are no tattoos below the waist save for a pair of thick ankle bands and the symbol on your forehead copied on both hips.

“How would you like to incorporate the Itadori clan tattoos?” The man asks Ryomen behind you. You hear the shuffle of clothing and then his hand on your bare upper back. Having to get really comfortable really fast with one another, you rip the bandage off and turn to him with your arms crossed over your chest, hugging yourself, “I don’t think I will,” He grins as he looks you up and down, his gaze flicking between you and the poster on the wall a couple of times. The artists exchange glances but you just nod, “Make it so,” “Your majesties, this isn’t a wise decision diplomatically speaking,” The woman speaks softly, her head bowed.

 “This marriage wasn’t for the sake of diplomacy so why the fuck should I care what my father thinks?” Ryomen snaps. You grab his hand, still keeping one arm tight over your bare chest, “Ryomen,” You say softly, “Ryomen, it’s okay, they’re allowed to be worried for their kingdom, this has never happened before, are you sure you don’t want to add anything? Even if it isn’t from your clan?” He looks into your eyes for a fleeting moment and then looks to the map again, frowning as he breathes deeply. “Can you tattoo a pair of fake closed eyelids just above the edge of where the lines will end on my cheeks?” He gestures on his face just below his real eyes.

You look confused for a moment but he clarifies, “My second eyes, Yuji always used to tell me I had an extra pair of eyes reserved for my brothers,” The artists seem to relax only slightly and the woman asks you if you’ll be getting that modification to which you reply, after confirmation from Ryomen that he is comfortable, that yes you will. The entire process is long and tedious, difficult, you spend more time squeezing Ryomen’s hand than actually talking because the pain gets to you after a while. He’s antsy the whole time, he reaches up and fidgets with your fingers and plays with your hair after his arms and shoulders are done while you’re sat up getting your back done.

“Tell me about your brothers,” You ask softly once the man starts work on his back, the woman in between the two of you tattooing atop your breasts and collarbones. “My brothers? What would you like to know?” You shrug, “Anything you want to tell me,” He looks up for a moment, “Well, Yuji and I were always the closest, since Choso is the Crown Prince he spent a lot of time in studies and learning how to be king. Eso and Kechizu are five and eight years younger than me, fifteen and twelve, both born with disabilities that prevent them from leading normal lives,”

There is an intense sadness in his eyes and you squeeze his hand gently, “Eso significantly lacks in his movement and coordination ability, the doctors would never tell us exactly what it was but we knew he couldn’t play the same way we used to as children, so we never played rough. Kechizu is hard to explain, because he was born with significant tunnel vision and a high sensitivity to light, and so hasn’t bothered opening his eyes most of his life, but also has problems with his blood. He bleeds heavily if he gets hurt, he bruises extremely easily, so then we learned we had to be gentle with both boys,” You’re sure your sadness is palpable at this point, but he seems to be perking up slightly just talking about them with someone.

“Despite the limitations in their abilities, they were always so lively and never wanted to be left behind if we went out to train, Eso spent his time describing in exaggerated detail the three of us as we trained to Kechizu, and I just remember them being so happy when my father wasn’t around-“ He cuts himself off, his lips returning to a thin line as his eyes sparkle slightly in the candlelight. You know he doesn’t want to cry in front of the artists, so you instead begin to tell him stories of your childhood, your brother and Geto, the young maids who grew up alongside you and now serve you, the kindness of the Iqorian people and the events and festivals you’ve attended all your life.

“That all sounds lovely,” He murmurs as he cups your cheek, tracing a thumb over the new tattoo just below your eyes and letting his energy flow through you to heal the raw skin left there. The gesture warms your heart, healing his addition to your clan tattoos, and you uncover your chest shyly to place your own hands over the newly healed tattoos on his collarbone, tracing the edges of the thick lines gently. “You know, now that it’s happening, I couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else,” He says, his voice thick with emotion.

You blush softly, “You really do have a way with words sometimes, I think you could have been a poet in another life,” He steps into your space, half attempting to hide your exposed skin from the artists, “I think I’d very much like to be reborn as a songbird,” He whispers, his large hands still gently holding your cheeks as the artists begin their final rituals, leaning his forehead down and resting it against yours. “Then I could sing you songs of every kind of love every morning when you wake,” A soft glow surrounds the pair of you as you look into his eyes, the tattoos emitting the glow as the artists murmur softly.

You’re unsure of what exactly they’re doing but you know this is a moment you won’t ever forget, stood in the center of a dark room with the man you saved within mere hours of meeting him. Your new husband, perhaps the most dangerous man alive if Satoru Gojo’s Six Eyes are to be believed. But he’s here, he’s right in front of you holding you like a butterfly, bearing your last name and the marks of your clan because of the ignorance of his father.

The artists have left the room by the time you come back to one another, the glow slowly dimming with every second, but his hands never leave your body. He traces his hands over everything he can see, and everything he can’t, in an effort to familiarise himself with you and seek comfort in your warmth. It doesn’t occur to you that this is a little scandalous, you simply allow him to softly caress your skin, nothing but a hint of innocent desperation in the air. He needs this. He needs you to step into the role Yuji had tried his best to fill, his main protector and advocate, and if Ryomen needs to know you inside and out to allow himself to trust you then you’ll do whatever it takes.

“We have a people to address,” You murmur, still looking up into his half-lidded eyes. He nods gently, sitting back down on the table and breaking the trance, allowing you to search for the robes and bring them back to him. Simple white clothing, symbolising purity, adorned with green stitching, symbolising new beginnings. Both outfits are sleeveless, the straps thin and the neckline plunging deep on both your front and back to expose the main shoulder to collar tattoos to the air. Nothing can be done about the tattoos on your stomach and lower back, but the sleeveless nature allows for the arm and shoulders to be fully exposed.

“Allow me,” He murmurs, reaching for the simple dress and then helping you step into it, clasping it at your hips and just below the middle of your back to secure it. It’s oddly comfortable, it had looked itchy and uncomfortable on your sister-in-law but you suppose she just didn’t like the stares of the people. When you turn back to him he’s already pulled the loose pants on and you watch his muscles flex and relax as he slips into the shirt.

“You look good,” You murmur softly, clasping your hands at your stomach, “Are you alright?” He looks up, fixing his hair slightly. His soft smile sends a shot of warmth through your body as he reaches for you, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I can say with full confidence,” He starts, holding you to his chest and hiding you against him as the door opens again, revealing your parents, “That I’ve never been better than I am right now,” He whispers for only your ears, and you feel tears welling up in your eyes as you nuzzle against him.

“It is time,” Your father announces, “For you to address the people as husband and wife,” You steel yourself as you pull away, noticing a hint of red in Ryomen’s eyes as he looked down at you, but feeling nothing but strength from his aura as opposed to rage. You look to your father and nod, “We’re ready,” Time had seemed to stand still while the two of you were in that room, but the moment you stepped out you saw the day had ticked over and it was now the morning again. The rituals performed by the artists had prevented you from becoming weary or hungry, you felt refreshed if anything, and the two of you walk hand in hand with your parents in tow to the main castle entrance.

Geto is there at the open doorway, and past him you can see the courtyard and the steps up to the entrance are flooded with the Iqorian people. This is it, the first step into the public eye, with your husband by your side. News travels fast, you’re sure the Itadori clan will hear of his tattoos before the sun has set, but a small part of you holds no remorse. “Are you prepared for the consequences?” Ryomen murmurs into your ear, “There’s no backing down now,”

You squeeze his hand and then tug him out into the growing sunlight, walking forwards until you’re at the edge of the steps. The reactions you can see are mixed, but there is an overwhelming amount of positive energy flowing up at you. Your emotions get the best of you, tears slip down your cheeks, you tuck yourself closer to Ryomen as he lifts an arm to wave. “Live in the feeling,” He whispers, seemingly to himself, “Savour the moment,”

You decide to do just that. Peace washes over you, and you find yourself once again thinking to the future, the countless possibilities and unknowns. Whatever comes next, you’ll face it with Ryomen L/n unapologetically by your side.

Might start putting a 'fanart of the day' at the end where i link a fanart of the character in question (in this case sukuna) for you all to enjoy if you haven't seen it already lol

Part 4 here

[that-one-anxious-mango]

You Understand.

Summary: You feel you must be honest with Austin about something before either of you venture further.

Contents: Fluff Ofc! Mentions of virginity and loss of virginity. Overall just a good ole' fashion comfort fic (our favorite).

Pairing: Austin Butler x Black Reader

A/N: Hi! Long time no see! I'm very happy to be posting the first installment of the new year, and I am very excited for what it brings for all of us. I hope you enjoy.

P.S: Everyone PLEASE feel free to comment, I absolutely love reading them and it helps to motivate me to keep going with the series. Also don't shy, re-blog, like, and share if you care! Much love! * hugs*

----

“ I can’t believe you don’t like cotton candy. This almost feels like a crime.” Austin goofed, pointing to the small thing of strawberry cotton candy in his hand.

You snorted, “ I can’t believe you do. It’s all nice and dandy until it deflates or melts on your fingers. After that it’s gross.” 

" Plus, I prefer a nice fat funnel cake with all the fixings." You added.

“ You call it gross, and I call it the natural sacrifices one has to make for their favorite fair food. “ He wiggled his eyebrows and took a bite of the sugary confection.

You giggled at how cute he looked and even managed to take out your phone with your free hand to snap a picture of the happy cotton candy boy.

The two of you continued to laugh and joke along the Santa Monica Pier until you came to a comfortable pause of silence. 

That’s when your heart sank at the realization that this was the perfect time to tell him what had been on your mind and heart the last couple of days. You’d even consulted your friends beforehand to make sure the time was right. Once they agreed you knew exactly what had to be done.

So right here, right now, you were going to rip the band-aid clean off in hopes it wouldn’t bleed. 

“ So….” You swung his hand in yours, “ I hate to put some weight on the mood since I know we’re having such a good time.” You started. 

“ Yeah..” Austin replied, tossing his now empty cotton candy paper in a nearby trash.

“ And I can say that these last couple weeks with you have been great, honestly. But I feel like before we continue whatever this is that we’re doing, I need to let you know something because I don’t wanna lead you on.” You said, twisting at the bracelets on your wrist. 

“ Uh huh.” He encouraged me, beginning to feel a bit nervous now. 

“ As you recall, the other night when you came over to return my copy of The Policeman, upon your departure during our goodbyes things got a little spicy an- “ 

Austin immediately went to into apology,  “Again, I’m really sorry about that I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything I jus-”

Quickly you held a hand up to stop him, “ Please. It’s okay. You apologized more than enough the other night. Just wait a second and hear me out, okay. “

He nodded. 

“  As I was saying. Things got a little steamy. Let me just mention again that nothing happened that I didn’t want to. But the thing is….” 

You paused gathering your words right in your brain…

“ I guess I’m trying to figure out a way to say this without sounding completely vulgar.” You rub your now sun-kissed arm as if you're trying to brush the nerves out of your body. 

Austin’s eyebrows rose in surprise, “ Oh. Uh, well. I mean..just say it. Honesty is the best policy and I’m sure I can handle it.”

“ Yeah? “

“ Yeah.” He quickly replied, curious to see what you’d spun in your mind so obscene that you felt like you couldn’t speak.

You cleared your throat, “Okay. Fine. Here it goes..” 

“ With the way that you kissed me that night with your lips, clung your hands onto the edges of my hips, and the sounds I had to suppress from the deepest part of my being when your hand accidentally brushed against my…lower half. I had half the mind to offer for you to stay the night at my place just so that we could “ accidentally”  keep touching each other in many, many different places all night. “ You divulged. 

At your confession Austin's eyebrows shot up and he could feel his body begin to heat the same way it did that spoken of night, you could tell this by the soft peony color that collected on the surface of his cheeks and the way he looked away to watch the wheel turn on the Ferris wheel. 

You did your best to hide the shy twisted grin on your lips that came from knowing that you’d made him blush. 

When he turned back you could see the cheesiest smile play on his lips , “ I see. Well thank you for your honesty..it’s much appreciated.”

“ You’re welcome.” You gulped, “ So, with that being said I want you to know that while I’m not opposed to us taking our-”

“ Relationship.” Austin offered up.

It was your turn to raise your eyebrows at him. You hadn’t expected him to so casually throw out the R in this conversation. But remembering the words of your friends ringing in your mind you decided to play it cool and test the waters, “ Right. Well, let me just say that no one has asked me to be their girlfriend yet so….” 

“ I’m working on it. “ He said, you noticed the small bit to his lips and willed yourself to try and keep your mind focused. 

“ We’ll see.” You casually replied before continuing with your intended statement, “ But something you should know is….” 

You found the words getting stuck in your throat, but when you looked his gentle smile you found the courage to keep going. 

“ You should know that I am a virgin.” You confessed, “ And it is by choice.” 

“ AND, before you say anything. NO! It’s not because I couldn’t have had sex with someone or because people weren’t interested. Or because something’s wrong with me. But because I believe that sex is an intimate exchange of love between two people and I want my first time to be with someone I love and I know is in love with me.” You affirmed. 

      “ If that’s something that bothers you or you think it’s weird or whatever, then this is where we should just call this now so we can both leave this…thing…while still being friends.” You finished, looking out toward the pier in an act to distract yourself from how hard you could feel your heart beating in your chest. 

It was silent for a moment after you finished, and with each passing moment you were preparing yourself for the age old speech every man gave when he couldn’t get what he wanted from a woman.

It’s not you, it’s me. 

When really they wanted to say: “ It’s not me, it’s you and the fact you won’t put out.” 

Eventually his voice broke out among the chatters of people and whirl of the wind,  “ Well, again. Thank you for being honest with me. I really do appreciate it.” Austin began.

“ No problem.” You nodded, arms folded across your chest, as you still tried your best to hide your absolutely nerve ridden body.

“ As far as your…confession goes, I want you to know that you being a-

“ Virgin.” You quickly interjected, “ I’m a virgin.” 

A laugh was stifled from Austin, “ Yes, a virgin. You being a virgin doesn’t bother me any at all.”

You quickly quirked an eyebrow at him, “ Really? “ 

“ Truly.” He smiled, “ Your choice that you’ve made for your body is entirely your own. And I respect and admire your decision.” 

“ Admire? “ 

That’s a first.

“ Yeah. I admire your reasoning behind your choice. Especially since I felt like when it was my time I didn’t exactly lose mine the way one should have. I was younger and shy. Felt the peer pressure from some people my age, so I just went ahead and did it to say I did it.”  He opened up. 

You were stunned a bit at his honesty. No guy you’d ever come across had opened up to you like this, especially about something so intimate. All it did was make you grow more curious to continue exploring just what kind of species of man you were dealing with.

You shook your head, “ God, I’m so sorry that happened to you. I can tell you from experience I know what that’s like and it’s hard.” 

Growing up around the people you did, all through middle school and high school you were ridiculed about being a “ prude “ or a “ prissy princess who thinks she’s better than everyone “ all because you kept your virginity to yourself.

He smiled, “ Thank you. But don’t go feeling too bad. I eventually had the chance to actually make love to someone and have it mean something. Which is all I can ever wish for you and  anyone else.”

You nodded, “ Right. Well thanks for being so cool about it. Lord knows you’re the first guy this conversation has ever actually gone pleasant with. I appreciate your understanding.” 

Austin didn’t hesitate, “ Of course. You gotta know that I’m not in this for something as simple as sex. As people we both could walk out into the world and find that anywhere.”

“ I’m here because as cliche as it may sound, I’ve never met anyone like you before. And I really enjoy spending time with you and picking your brain. And if one day AFTER I ask you officially to be my girlfriend, you decide you wanna take things up a notch that's fine. If not, that's fine too because that's not the most important thing going on here.” He reached out to regrasp your hand in his and give it a tight squeeze.

You look over directly at him to hold the gaze from his eyes and couldn’t help but catch that familiar feeling that made you all warm and gooey.

It was then you could confirm that you REALLY liked him, like truly were infatuated with the man before you. 

“ Well, I guess we’ll just have to see what happens, huh? “ You said.

“ I guess.” Austin smiled.

“ Good.” You whispered.

“ Great.” He replied, making you both bust into a fit of giggles. 

“ Since we have that settled. “ Austin abruptly stopped in front of the ring toss stand, “ I believe I promised you, young lady. A stuffed cow, and I see the most handsome one hanging from this booth.” He pointed to the adorable white and blue spotted cow plush hanging from the stall.

You couldn’t stop the shrill that invaded your voice, “ Oh My Gosh! Austin, he's adorable.” 

“ I know. He’ll look even cuter in your arms. C’mon honey let’s go.” He happily ushered the two of you over to the booth and into your future together.  

[rc-writes]

𝐫𝐞𝐚���𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙨 | 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢  

pairings: benny weir x reader

warnings: one curse word i believe, not much of benny actually in it sorry

part one

a/n: well look who wrote benny hcs not at 1am for once lol (finished this before 10pm) anyways, these hcs are more of you (the reader) getting your turn to have your realization moment. which because of that benny isn’t actually in this all too much. i hope you all enjoy it anyway!!

you had called benny the day after you were let out of the hospital and asked if he wanted to hang out

he quickly said that his grandma was making him clean the whole house so he couldn’t come over

and then quickly hung up

this was very strange because 1. he didn’t go on a rant about how much he did not want to clean 2. he wasn’t even allowed to do more than dusting anymore

last time he tried to spell the house clean and somehow the bathroom was full of chickens

and to add to the strangeness you spotted benny with ethan in ethan’s backyard later in the day

you definitely weren’t spying

another weird event happened when the school week began

usually you and benny would sit next to each other in english but on monday morning he was sitting on the other side of the room

when you questioned him he was quick to say that the teacher moved him for some reason

on any other day you’d just brush it off because teacher’s like to move kids for no reason sometimes

but since benny was acting weird you decided to ask the teacher after class and it turns out benny was the one to ask to move

now you were more confused as ever

not only has benny avoided you twice, but he had lied to you twice

a couple different thoughts ran threw your head at once

maybe he’s trying to distance himself so it doesn’t hurt him as much if you were to get hurt again?

does he still feel terrible that he couldn't prevent you from getting hurt and thinks you blame him?

or worse, is he upset that you did something wrong and by getting yourself hurt someone else could also have gotten hurt?

you know that the last option would be completely out of character for benny but you couldn’t let the thought fully leave

this was when you decided to question ethan again

and once again he pretended like nothing odd was happening

even after half of an hour of nonstop questioning he would fess up

you then decided to just go ask benny himself

once you got to the weir household you were met with a “sick” benny who didn’t have time to talk because he “didn’t want you to get sick”

you might have believed him if it wasn’t for the fact that before you knocked on ethan’s bedroom door earlier you heard them both video chatting while playing a video game

and benny did not sound at all sick at the time

but you decided to just drop the matter and sulk back home

maybe this weird thing would be over in a few days?

maybe there was a completely reasonable reason as to why one best friend was ignoring you and another was covering for them?

unfortunately for you it was a week later at this point and nothing had changed

you’re wrist being almost completely healed was the only thing you seemed to change

safe to say you were upset

so here you lay on your bed watching the ceiling fan go round and round

you missed your best friend

you missed benny

the benny who would have been knocking on your door with a box full of games before you even finished saying you were bored over the phone

the benny who you had known to be an amazing friend since you met him back in middle school

hell you couldn’t even remember the last time it had been this long since you had a full conversation with him

what would you even do if you didn’t have him in your life??

it was at this moment, with this thought, was the exact moment a bomb had gone off in your head

“that can’t be true”

“what a crazy thought that was”

“pfft there’s no way that was a true thought”

“ha ha real funny”

“that doesn’t even make any sense”

“ha ha right?”

“right??”

there was no possible way you actually had feelings for your best friend, right?

but what if you did?

no that’s crazy, anyone would be upset if their best friend had suddenly stopped talking to them

but why did it feel like you missed more than just a best friend?

now as any person with more one than one good friend you had to go tell ethan about this whole mess of a situation you just got in

well after you spent a few hours spiraling

ethan being the good friend he was decided to not reveal benny’s similar secret to you

which he did get very close to just telling you, but he then remembered benny swore he’d “accidentally” say the wrong spell too close to him if he did and decided against it

cue ethan being just so done with life because now he has to deal with the both of y’all being oblivious idiots

[piratesfromspace]

Brandy & Gingerbread (Nick 'Santa'/Reader)

Nick 'Santa Claus' (Violent Night) x fem!Reader Rated: Explicit 1.2k words

Nicomund the Red and the Tooth Fairy meet again on Christmas day. Fluff and smut ensue.

This is my Christmas gift for @gipsydangerzone 💖

Content: mention of food and alcohol, implied violence, magic healing, Santa Claus kink (is that a thing?), smut, thigh riding, Christmas fluff, fem!reader, established relationship. This happens just after the end of the movie. Look at me expanding on the lore of this Christmas masterpiece that is Violent Night.

MASTERLIST

gif by nick-offerman

“Well, well, what do we have here? Isn’t that the Tooth Fairy herself?” The familiar gravelly voice has you shiver before you even see him.

“What are you doing here?” he continues as you swirl back to face him. Here he is. In all his glory, red velvet and white fur and the gray of his fluffy beard. Gold sparks of magic still floating around him.

“Nick! Nice to see you again! How am I doing? Fine, thanks for asking!” you answer sharply.

He seems unbothered by your sarcastic greetings.  “You know it’s actually my night, right, sweetheart?” he croons, taking a step toward you.

“Well, it happens that the kid in this house lost a tooth today, so it’s also my night. I work all year round, Nicomund, I’m not some lazy old man who manages to complain while doing shit for most of the year.” you snap back. 

“Oof, darling, no need to be so mean. You don’t want to end on my naughty list, don’t you?” He takes one step further, crossing slowly but surely the length of the living room. The place is cozy, old fireplace but modern floor, new sofa but vintage quilts. The tall christmas tree is a real one and it smells like pine and spice and sugar. Like Christmas. Fairy lights spread across the place bathe the room in a soft warm glow. Seeing him in such a decor, it feels like a freaking cheesy Holiday movie. Except you know him, know what he’s capable of, and he’s far from the lazy old man you accuse him to be. 

“Well, I don’t have time to play games Nick, so unless you’ve lost a tooth yourself, I have to go.” you don’t sound as sure of yourself as you’d like. That’s his fault, he unsettles you, makes you dream of domesticity, of chocolate and marshmallows, of cuddles in front of the fire, of all those soft other things you don’t have time to indulge in. 

“Oh sweetie, you won’t believe me, because actually I’m afraid I’ve lost a couple teeth earlier tonight.” He rasps, and behind the sirupy lull of his low voice, you notice for the first time the thin hint of pain. Now that he’s closer, you actually take the time to really look at him. There is a split on his right cheekbone, specks of dried blood on his jaw, spots of red on the white fur of his collar. His usual stupid hat is absent, and his hair hastily tied up in a bun. The tiny round glasses are nowhere to be seen. His sleeves are bunched up, showing off the dark swirls of ink under his skin, meeting the blue-black of fresh bruises. 

“Nick, what happened…?”

Flashbacks of wars long lost invade your mind. Nicomund the Red and his hammer. Bathed in blood and mud and death. The stench of it clinging to the inside of your nose for days after the battles. Ears ringing with the screams of your dying enemies for countless nights. Your own sword covered in gore. 

“Hey, you with me, sweetheart?” Nick’s hand lands on your shoulder and you’re suddenly brought back to your senses. To now, to the cozy living room and the smell of Christmas candles. He’s the one injured, yet he focuses on you. It’s not the first time. It’s been going on for millenia now.

“It’s a long story, but I’m fine.” he adds now that he has your attention. 

“What about you?” he asks, and he cups your cheek, eyes the color of iron - moody skies - scanning your face. His palm is hot, rough pads against your delicate skin. You circle his wrist and nod in reassurance. He said he was fine but you can’t miss how he flinches under your touch, a muffled groan of discomfort escaping him. 

“You’re still a bad liar, you know that, Nick? Let me see. My magic may help.”

He sits on the sofa, large thighs slightly open and strong feet on the ground, while you’re perched on one of his legs. You had opened his jacket, and traced his naked chest in search of every cut and bruise, blue sparks at the tip of your fingers, healing them on your way. You remember doing the same thing a very long time ago, when you both did not have your magic yet. It’s intimate. Weirdly familiar. His warm body under yours strangely soothing. 

You push the jacket even lower, revealing his broad shoulders, hard muscles under the soft curves of his body. Runes and sacred symbols itched in his skin, reminding you of home. You shift on top of him to reach his back and powerful hands fly up to your waist to help you keep your balance. The heat of him warms up your core, and you find yourself not wanting to leave his embrace. 

Once you’re mainly done, you sit back, and stare at his face. His hands are still on your waist, burning where they meet the sliver of bare flesh between your top and pants. It’s unconscious, your body reacting on its own, but you ground yourself on his leg, your cunt pressing against his thigh in search of something you’ve denied yourself for too long. He notices of course - arched brow and knowing smile - and the iron of his irises melt to a deep night blue. Your fingertips ghost over the crinkle at the corner of his eyes, smooth over the silver strands of his beard, just enough time for you to gather your courage and finally take the bait of his lips. 

You press delicate kisses on his mouth, until he parts his lips. He tastes like gingerbread and brandy and it pairs surprisingly well. Nick keeps kissing you and strengthens his hold on you, brings you down on his thigh and flexes the muscle. He drinks your sudden gasp with a low chuckle. Bastard. 

“You like this, mmh? Come on, take what you need my little fairy.” he whispers in your neck, his beard tickling your skin and making you giggle softly. He repeats his move, encouraging you to find your own rhythm. Warmth builds and builds between your legs, you can feel how wet you’re becoming while you seek the delicious friction of his thigh against your swollen flesh. 

Nick is drowning you in filthy praises between two deep kisses, tongue tasting the roof of your mouth like you’re a sugary treat. Your hands are buried in his long hair, yanking him to you when he dares to leave too much space between you two. You’re close but it’s not yet enough, and you wish he would give you more, let you open his pants and really ride him. 

It’s like he can read in your mind - you don’t understand how the whole wish thing works, maybe he is - and he rises from the couch, holding you in his arms in an impressive display of strength, before he spins and lays you back down on the sofa, landing on top of you. 

“I guess you deserve a gift too sweetheart, you work so hard, it’s your turn to be taken care of.” He dips his head, kisses you once again, and there’s a devotion and a passion that wasn’t there a moment earlier. He smiles against your lips and his voice is like molten chocolate, decadent and rich: “Merry Christmas” he rasps, before sliding lower and bringing down your pants with him.

[keen-li]

Only one | 03

Series Warnings: toxic relationship trauma, trauma in general, mentally broken oc, manipulation, yendere jungkook.

Psychiatrist jungkook x patient reader

Chapter warnings : panic attack, drugging.

. . .

"I wont be here next month"

She raises a brow at you.

"Y/n I hope you aren't trying to hurt yourself" the concerned look in her face has you chuckling.

"No no no, I'd never do that" you laugh awkwardly.

"And this is why I need you to keep this secret"

She nods and nudges for you to speak.

"Mr Jeon is gonna help me get out of this place" you say smiling and excited but she doesn't share your excitement.

"What?" You look brows furrowed her "Are you worried about yourself"

"I'm actually gonna ask if Mr jeon can also hel-" You say excitedly.

"Leave me out of it" She says a little aggressive which takes you back. You squint your eyebrows at her hoping to see what she might be hindung behind those eyes.

"What? What's wrong?"

"I don't think you should do it, you don't know Mr jeon" she lifts her eyes to stare at you.

"He said that he's gonna take me home"

"And what guarantee do you have? Huh" her voice rises. You stay silent not knowing what to say. You jnow it's kind of a stupid thing to do but you believe Mr jeon (even though you have no reason to.)

"You aren't even sure, he told you he'd take you home and you believed? "

"Y/n you need to say no to him" she says now sounding more fearful and worried.

"Why? You don't want me to leave this place."

"I do want you and I to leave here one day but not like this"

"Well I'm gonna do it, I don't wanna stay here any longer " you made your mind up, she doesn't bother to argue just staring at you and rolling her eyes. She knows there's no way she's gonna convince you otherwise.

She knows how convincing Mr Jeon can be, how he can lure you into a trance even the smartest would fall for.

After all she was once a fool too.

But she's gonna try and stop you from doing what you want to do. In her own way of course.

........

"I heard you had a carnival" he turns to face you "Did you have fun?" He smiles

"Yes I did. It was absolutely amazing" you start to describe the event and how you felt about it excitedly.

"I even got this bracelet but I didn't even win" you say showing him the bracelet.

"I wanted a panda but I didn't get one" you pout.

"That's okay" he comforts you.

"Show me your wrist" he commands as he takes your wrist into his hand after you hand it to him. You can feel the electrons from his hand to all over your body. His touch is warm and comfortable; like a dream, a melody.

"Very pretty" he says deeply staring at your hand then he moves to your wavering eyes that were perfectly accompanied by your eyelashes. Your face blessed with the most gorgeous features he's ever seen.

"The bracelet is very pretty" voice soft as your eyes are still connected.

You smile awkwardly and pull your wrist from his grip. You tend to pull away from men and their advances, you don't need a 14th reason or another 13th reason.

"I've been looking at it ever since I got it" your tone very gentle and soft and it lands warmly into jungkook's ears. His lips pull at your delicate voice.

After a moment of silence and a couple of minutes waiting for him to get your session in progress you decide to speak up but he cuts in.

"So have you been a good girl " he leans against the table hands gripping each side of the table.  You're taken back by his straight forwardness and the sudden question.

"I-i. Yes. Yes I have" you stutter and play with your fingers, you can feelyiur throat clog with nerves. He notices your little movements, of course he does he always does. Letting go of the table and putting his hands in his pocket, his feet move step by step until he's directly in front of you. The way he towers over you makes you even more nervous, he knows he's intimidating  and he loves it. He loves watching you quiver under his lowered dark gaze, hands in his pockets to make him look bigger ,badder. He bends his head to look down at you and his sleeked back hair doesn't dare to fall.

"Have you been a good girl" his voice is soft and silky, it's as low as his gaze. You aren't able to look at him because this is one of the things that scare you. Your ex did this a lot, stood over you to make you scared and show you how bad he is. So you're very anxious when jungkook stands over you like this, he doesn't even stumble, his figure as stiff as a pole. He notices your uneasiness and chuckles. You wonder if he knows how he's affecting you by doing this and if he does; does he enjoy it.

And so to get your eyes on him, he really wants your eyes on him. He uses his pointer and middle finger to lift your head and your eyes finally meet his.

There you go sweet, you can do it. Keep the eye contact.

"Have you?" He nudges your chin. You can't find the confidence to speak feeling kinda like how you did when you were with your ex. Does he do this with his other patients? Is it even professional? These are the questions you should be asking yourself but your mind can't seem to ponder any longer on logical thoughts.

So you nod, you just nod. Slowly and surely and those beautiful eyes stare at jungkook deeply.

You look so good from this angle.

He chuckles his thoughts away. Then he moves away from you, showing you his glorious back. You feel like you can finally breath. He takes his seat on his chair and pulls out his note book and scribbles something.

"You're leaving at the end of the week" he spits his voice going back to its professional tone.  "So you better get packing"

You honestly should've been happier, excited even. But you aren't, not fully atleast.

....

"Have you got everything?" The nurse asks you as you zip up your bag.

"Yeah" the weight of the bag over your shoulder pulls you down slightly.

The nurse mumbles an OK and guides you to the front desk. You look back into your room, you wish you could say bye to sicily but you're not sure where she is, so you'd settle with leaving her a note.

You walk slowly and a little gloomy as you spot Mr Jeon by the front desk signing some papers. He looks over to you and says something to the lady behind the desk which makes her laugh. By the way she laughs you know she's trying to be sexy and appeal to Mr jeon but he doesn't pay mind to her advances.  He instead turns to you as you stand by him and gold your bag closer.

"How are you feeling?" He asks in his Mr jeon voice.

"I'm okay" you say not sounding okay at all.

"Just sign here miss and you'll be all done" he lady behind the desk hands you a paper and pen. You take it and as you're ready to sign where she directed you to, you pause when you notice something.

Name of care giver: jeon jungkook

You blink twice and before you sign you look at him with a raised brow.

"Since when are you my caretaker" you wonder why he put his name there when he could've just left it blank, noting you as independent.

"You need someone looking after you so you can leave" he sounds like he couldn't care for your concern.

"You could've called my mom" you say.

"Did you want that?" His sharp tone lands in your ears, his persona faltering a bit as he stares at you darkly hoping you'd just shut up and make this process less tiresome.

You actually wouldn't want your mother to pick you up, you'd rather just stay here then.

You stay quiet as you sign the paper for your freedom.

"Lets go" Mr jeon says turning his back to you, body insinuating that you should follow him. Which you do.

His firm and stone-built figure guides you out of the hell hole you've been in. The sun and air have never felt so good, it feels like a fresh start. You're hopeful  and you've already been thinking about what your gonna do when you finally get to go to your own home and have your little pets running around.  You're so excited.

Your heart feels heavy as Mr jeon has the door of his hyundai open for you to enter.  You don't know why it feels so heavy on your chest to not enter his car, he couldn't do anything to you he's trying to help anyways. Ignoring the ringing bells in your mind you enter his car, your body mentally and physically shudders as he slams the door shut. You just pin it down to the anxiety of finally being back in society and having to regain yourself, even though both you and Mr jeon know you aren't fully well, you should be well enough to survive. Right? You hope.

You aren't going to leave .

You aren't leaving me.

You're not going anywhere, you're staying with me forever.

The ringing and voice in your head start to get louder, your chest falling and raising faster than the sun. You were ignoring it scared that he'd make you go back to the repetitive life of the hospital. You clutch the sides of your head trying to stop it, stop his voice from ringing reminders,  reminders of his ownership over you.

You can't be having an episode right now, you're going to end up back in the hospital. You can't end up back in there, all Mr Jeon's efforts and yours would go in the drain; you might even get him fired. You don't want that, he's trying to help you. All these thoughts fuel your heaving.

"Its okay you're not going to end up back there" you hear Mr jeon voice and for a second you thought you heard the devil's voice but your mind was playing tricks in you. You've been so caught up with yourself and your thoughts that you didn't realize you were speaking out loud and he had already closed his door. His hands on your skin try to calm you.

You push his hands away from you. You didn't like being touched during these moments. Every touch felt like a hot scalding slap, a reminder of your worthlessness to your mind. A reminder that you might never escape this reality of yours, being trapped like a bird in a cage set and bound to die that way.

"Take these" Mr jeon hands you two pills and a bottle of water. You've never seen these pills, with the way you had to take medicine you've mastered every name, colour and design of every pill and recognising every purpose they serve is your talent.

But these, you've never seen these. They're small circular and white (generic), their small size may fool other people of their strength but what you've realized over the past months is that the small, boring looking pills are always the most effective and dangerous. And whatever these little pills are they're no joke.

A little skeptical and nervous you stare at Mr jeon who's gaze feels like the morning sun revealing the stains on your white garment. He nods to you comforting you that it's okay to take them.

"They're a new batch, I think they'll help you calm down" he smiles no joy behind his smile. Why does it feel suffocating to be around him now, you'd never tell him that but he's probably already noticed it with the way your iris shakes when you stare at him.

"They are now part of your prescription" he informs you. One of his conditions was that you'd keep taking medication, you were okay with that. But you're kind of confused why he's adding a new drug, you were responding well to the others. So why the new addition? These are the thoughts you should be pondering but your mind never allows you to.

Relax you they do, a little too well. You can barely feel your muscles, the only feeling you feel being the tingling at the end of your fingers and toes, just to assure you that you're still alive in your human form. You've never been this relaxed, your mind is numb and dull; no thoughts. Only the little pictures of the nature you see appear in your mind. You surely were right those little pills were hazardous,  you hope to remember to ask him what they are later. You doubt you'll remember anything after this.

You watch the scenes pass by, then you hear Mr Jeon's voice speak. Its so distorted that you aren't even sure if he's the one speaking, but your body can barely react or question.

"Feels good doesn't it?" the grin on his face is audible.

Your eyes flicker from dark to light; leaning more to darkness. You can't stop the feeling as you feel darkness slowly consume you. You try and move your hands for him to reach out and help you but his are clenched around the steering.

"Ah-" you let out in a stuttered whisper. You're calling out to no one, no one you know. Or maybe the devil sat next to you, who has his mask so stuck on his face that you can't really tell who he is.

"You're gonna be free with me" he mutters as sincere as his will to help you but using this fucked up way of going about it.

. . .

Taglist: @gojosatoruhere @ane102

Masterlist

[paladin--strait]

could you pls pls pls write strangers to lovers with Jamieeeee

warm - jamie drysdale x reader

yesss ofc!! I love this prompt with him 😆 this is really cringey, though! sorry about that. if you had something different in mind, let me know!! thank you for requesting! ❤❤

tw: slight harrassment, language, a random guy being creepy

-

the smell of coffee fills my nose once again when I walk into the cafe I work at near packer park, philadelphia. I greet my coworkers, put on my apron and get to work.

"y/n! I need table 3 cleaned please!" my coworker yells out to me.

"on it!" I grab the cleaning supplies from the back and rush out to clean the table. after that table, I look around and notice more tables are not clean, some customers even having to clean their own tables.

"here! I'm so sorry, let me get that for you!" I say, gesturing for the older lady and her daughter to take a step back to let me clean the table. "again, so sorry for that! we're short on staff and today seems to be busier than usual. if you need anything let us know!" they thank me for cleaning the table, then assure me that it's alright.

I clean a couple more tables before I notice a man around my age begin to clean the table at his booth. "ahh! I'm sorry! let me clean that for you, sir!" I say and he thanks me and takes a step back.

while I'm cleaning, I can't help but feel his eyes on me. it's normal for customers to look us at while we clean, but this time it feels different. it's making me feel uncomfortable and I'm not sure whether I should tell him to stop or not since I'm almost done cleaning his booth.

I take a deep breath and just continue to clean. I try to tell myself that its nothing but I can't shake the feeling that his gaze seems to give me. "you're table is ready, sir." I take a look around and I've managed to clean the rest of the tables. "if you haven't already ordered, I can take that for you!" I say, pulling out my pad of paper and a pen.

he takes a seat in his booth. "I'll take a black coffee and a piece of apple pie." he says slowly, reading off of the menu that's been laminated and hung on the wall.

"okay, I'll get that order going for you!" I say, beginning to walk off.

"I'm not done." he says with this tone in his voice that makes me shiver. I put my pen back up to the paper, ready to write down the rest of his order. "I'll also take your number, beautiful."

his words make my eyes widen. I've only had a few people ask me for my number before and that never ended well for me, considering all they wanted was a quick hookup. which has now left me single. but I've never had somebody ask me for my number like this before.

"I'm so sorry sir but I'm not interested. I'll go get your order started for you right away." i begin to walk off when he sits up and grabs my wrist.

"what's the reason? I saw the way you were looking at me. I know you want me." he says, bending down to my level.

"I uh, I have a boyfriend!!" I yell out, a bit louder than I intended, but I hoped he would believe my lie.

"oh yeah? where is he? he's not very smart to let someone so beautiful go out and work their tail off. come on, come back to my place and take a load off." he tries to entice me, but I pull my hand back and almost quite literally put my foot down.

"no. I have a boyfriend and I love him. I would never do such a thing!" I say, my cheeks heating with anger and embarrassment. I just want this guy to leave me alone.

"come on! he won't fuckin' know. you don't have to tell him everything." he says, laughing. his laugh is scary, deep and ugly. it makes my skin crawl and gives me goosebumps from fear.

I'm about to holler for help when hands grip my waist, knocking the guys hand off and pulling me into their chest. "I believe my girlfriend told you to leave her alone." I turn and look at the man who saved me from this creepy guy and he looks down at me, eyes wide and watery. almost as if he was angry.

"she didn't tell me she had a boyfriend!" the man tries to defend himself, but my hero dismisses him. "to hell with this! you're ugly as fuck anyway." his words still cut like a knife, even though they will be meaningless later.

I turn to thank my hero but he grabs my shoulders, "are you alright? I heard everything. he had no right to speak to you that way." it's almost like he's scolding me, even though I know that's not his intent. "I'm jamie, by the way. what's your name? if you don't mind me asking, of course."

I smile at him a little and point to my nametag on my apron. "its y/n. and thank you for helping me. you're like my hero!" I joke a little. he laughs, and its infectious. the way his laughs rings out throughout the cafe, and the tone of his voice makes his laugh irresistible.

I hear my coworkers calling my name, telling me to get back to work. I realize i have more tables to clean and I should probably get in the kitchen to help make drinks and food too. "I think I have to get back to work or else I'll probably get fired for slacking on the job or something like that." I chuckle, smiling at jamie.

I hear his name being called too and I turn to see it's a group of guys about his age. one is holding up a to-go coffee, presumably for jamie. "I have to go too. I'll see you around sometime?" I nod in a agreement and we both part ways.

I thought about jamie and the incident the whole rest of the day. I even tell my friends at work about it and they tell me that I should file a police report on the guy and show them the video footage of him. I agreed and went to the station the next day and filed a report. they said they couldn't do anything since he didn't physically hurt me and they didn't have his identity, which makes sense.

with every day that passes for two weeks after that, jamie shows up to the cafe. he orders the same thing everyday and I wonder how he's not broke yet. when he asks me if he could accompany me on my lunch break, I told him yes and he told me all about his life. who he really is, and what he does for work. he tells me that he'll buy me tickets to watch him okay in his next hockey game. I told him not to since I don't know anything about hockey and I would have to take a crash course or something else to teach me before I went.

that night I watched a video about the rules of hockey and all that stuff. I learned some stuff about the teams they were going to play in the upcoming games.

and the next day, jamie shows up with a ticket in hand. "it's my team, the flyers, against the ducks. they're from anaheim. I used to play there so I thought that might be a fun game for you to watch." he explains to me after I take the ticket and punch in his order.

a couple days later and a bunch of 'introduction to ice hockey' videos later, I find myself at wells fargo center to watch jamie and his team play. as I'm walking around, trying to figure out how I get to my seat, I see a team store and I spot a jersey with the name 'drysdale' printed on it with the number 9 under it. I run in and grab my size, paying for the jersey and putting it on proudly with a smile on my face.

I finally figure out how to get to my seat and I realize that jamie bought me a rinkside ticket. one that's right by the flyers bench. I try not to think about how much that ticket cost when all the players ran out onto the ice to start warming up.

I'm looking around at everything, taking it all in when I hear a knock on the glass in front of me. I turn and see that its jamie. he has the biggest smile on his face. "you made it!!" he yells, I can barely hear him, but I nod and put my hand on the glass right where his hand is on the other side.

"jamie look!" I turn around and point at the name on the jersey. when I turn around, he doesn't look very happy with me.

"if you wanted my jersey, you should have told me and I would have given you one of mine!" he yells out. he kinda has this pout on his face, but then he smiles. "but I still love that you have my jersey on. I'll see you later!!" he waves as his coach yells something at him.

a few minutes later a guy with flyers clothing on that says 'staff' walks up to me and asks me my name, which I tell him and he hands me a lanyard. I look over at jamie and he nods his head and smiles, giving me a thumbs up. I thank the guy and look down at it. it says VIP access.

the game is brutal to watch. but it's very entertaining and I catch myself laughing at it some. but after the game ends, I'm escorted down a hallway by the staff member that gave me my lanyard.

I'm left in the hallway with a bunch of women and reporters. a few of the guys walk out and a woman goes with them. I assume that those are there wives or girlfriends??

but my eyes light up when I see jamie walking out. he looks around before locking eyes with me, smiling wide, he walks to me and the staff lets me our from behind the ropes that separate the leaving players from the people waiting to see them.

he hugs me before holding my hand and taking me with him. "what did you think of the game?" he asks, smiling at me.

I told him my thoughts and scolded him for paying so much money just for me to watch him play. he tells me its nothing and that he wants me to come to as many games as possible, so he reserved that seat for me for the rest of the season.

"jamie you shouldn't have done that!" I say, smacking him on the arm. "what if I can't come to some of those games?"

"then the seat will be empty. it's alright! I just want you to come whenever you can." he explains.

"but jamie I see you everyday anyway!" I laugh, holding his hand again. "but I did have fun...so I'll come to as many games as I can!"

he smiles and we walk outside to his car, there's already and car with its lights on beside his and jamie's eyes light up when the owner of the car jumps out, calling his name and running to him.

the two guys hug and chat a little before the other guy turns to me and says, "hi, I'm trevor. you must be y/n! jamie has not stopped talking to me about you for weeks! it's nice to finally put a face to the name." he says, pulling me in for a hug. which I kindly return.

"the famous trevor!! jamie has told me so many stories about you!" I say laughing.

"all good things, I hope?" trevor says with a nervous look on his face.

"I can't promise that!" we all laugh and talk a little more before jamie opens the car door for me so we can leave.

I can't hear what they're talking about outside, which makes me a little nervous. but I see them hug and part ways before jamie gets in his car and pulls off.

"so y/n, I know we haven't been on any dates, and I know we just met a few weeks ago and this is even a surprise for me to be saying right now, but I really like you. and I want you to be my girlfriend. I've never met a girl like you. you're always so happy and kind. and my friends have never loved a girl so much that I've been talking to like they love you. so many people tell me that you're someone worth keeping around, and I agree completely. so y/n, will you be my girlfriend?" his nervous words catch me off guard, and I think they caught jamie off guard as well.

I take a minute in silence to think it over. before accepting his 'proposal' and smiling at him brightly. he pulls into my driveway and jumps out of the car, pulling me out and into his arms, giving me to biggest hug I've even gotten.

jamie pulls away, "can I kiss you?" he says, looking at me with eyes that shine even in the darkness of the night.

"please jamie-" I can't even finish my words before he pulls me in for a kiss so electrifying that I think my whole body goes into shock. I swear fireworks just went off.

jamie spends the night at my house, and we spend the whole night talking to each other. just holding one another and embracing the moment.

jamie calls in sick for morning skate and we sleep in, tucked in my bed that is now warm since it keeps another body under its covers. the bed is warm, and so is my heart.

[sonicboomseason3]

Sonic Boom - Theft

NOTE: Here you guys are, a random excerpt from the larger Sonic Boom Season 3 project I've been working on! If people like this one, then I'm down to share more in the future as well (but only occasionally because I don't want to clog up any of the tags). But yeah, I'm not usually someone who's super confident in my writing, but I genuinely did like how this one ended up, and I want to test the waters with this so. lol.

Some context for this: Shadow has a part-time job at Meh Burger. and it's a running bit for Sonic to have a shitty time every time he tries ordering from him, but people who have been on my blog long enough already know about that particular lore. Also, sometime before this, Meh Burger replaced all of their menus with thin slabs of steel with words etched into them due to Reasons. Don't worry about it. Smiles.

--

“Uh…” Sonic faltered when he noticed that Shadow’s expression was visibly stormier than it usually was. “You… okay?”

“Where are my gloves.”

“Come again?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, hedgehog,” Shadow snapped. He pointed an accusatory finger right between Sonic’s eyes, causing him to go cross-eyed. “I haven’t been able to find them since this morning, and so I’ve had no other choice but to wear a backup pair provided by Meh Burger. Where are they.”

It took Sonic another moment to register the words coming out of Shadow’s mouth. Indeed, the latter was wearing the standard white gloves that everyone else wore instead of those weird gauntlet things. Aside from the golden rings clamped around his wrists, Shadow’s whole look was suddenly looking very, very plain.

“I… don’t know?” Sonic slowly replied, pushing Shadow’s finger back towards its owner. “What makes you think I have anything to do with that?”

Shadow scoffed and crossed his arms, clearly not believing him. “Because you are the one who would gain the most out of stealing from me. You want my gloves to enhance your own gear, which will in turn make your battles more efficient.”

“Are you serious, Shadow? I don’t even know where to begin with any of that,” Sonic said, beginning to get annoyed at all the hoops Shadow was jumping through just to blame him for his personal problems. “One, if I really felt like upgrading anything, I would’ve just asked Tails instead of going through all that trouble. Two, I have a perfectly good pair of gloves that I’ve been wearing for years, and I have zero problems with them. No holes, no chafing, no nothin’. I don’t even see what makes your gloves so special.”

“Of course they’re special. They’re the only pair in existence, unlike your inferior ones.”

Sonic’s eye twitched. “Yeah, well, at least mine don’t make me look like I’m wearing a couple of toilet plungers on my hands.”

“What?”

Honestly, Sonic didn’t really think that Shadow’s gloves were that bad, but he had his limits to how much he would take lying down before dishing right back. While he was definitely getting better at the whole ‘ordering Meh Burger when Shadow was on his shift’ thing, there were still times when he lost his patience. This was one of those times.

“Hey, can you exchange insults somewhere else?” Dave, showing up out of nowhere to stand next to Shadow, whined. “I’m sick of doing overtime cleaning up after your fights.”

Sonic supposed he should feel some semblance of gratitude towards Dave for preventing the fistfight that had definitely been about to happen, but he was still too irritated at being falsely accused. “Dave, tell Shadow it makes no sense for me to steal his gloves.”

Dave turned to Shadow with an eyebrow raised. “Your gloves are missing?”

“Since this morning. And if it truly wasn’t Sonic who took them—”

“Dude, for the millionth time, it wasn’t.”

“—then I will hunt down this unknown thief if it’s the last thing I do,” Shadow finished, completely ignoring Sonic. “And they will pay for daring to steal from me.”

“Wow, it’d sure suck to be them then,” Dave yawned, raising a hand to cover his mouth. The other two immediately took notice of the fact that he had on a very familiar red, black, and white gauntlet. “Too bad I don’t know anything.”

Sonic stared at Dave’s hand shielding his yawn, and then stared at his other hand hanging by his side. Sure enough, there was Shadow’s other glove. “Seriously?”

“David,” Shadow ground out through clenched teeth as he reached for one of Meh Burger’s steel menus.

To Dave’s credit, he didn’t even flinch at the realization that he had been found out. Instead, he closed his eyes in acceptance right as Shadow smacked him in the side of the head with the menu, the CLANG resounding throughout the entire restaurant. He fell to the floor, out cold.

“What’s wrong with you, Shadow?” Sonic asked in exasperation. “You’ve been here with him for hours at this point. How in the heck did you not notice until now?”

Shadow didn’t reply, only gazing down at Dave’s unconscious form with open disdain. Something else in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and his scowl deepened. “Sonic,” he snarled, his mood worsening even more. “My air shoes are missing.”

“Come again?”

Shadow, growling like a wild animal and possessing more flexibility than a limp pool noodle, kicked his leg high up in the air and slammed it down on the counter for Sonic to see.

Thankfully, he had socks on, but Sonic still could have gone on with his life without the increased proximity to Shadow’s unshod foot. “Oh my god, dude, don’t—”

“I said my air shoes are missing,” Shadow repeated dangerously, his leg still resting on the counter. The counter where food was supposed to be served. “If you have something to do with this, say so now.”

Sonic threw his hands up in the air. “We’ve already proven I didn’t steal your gloves, so why would I steal your stupid shoes?! And again, how do you go around not noticing this stuff?!”

Shadow opened his mouth say something, but the sound of an evil laugh coming from above cut him off. They both looked up at the sky and saw Eggman hovering in the air… with some newly acquired footwear and not his Eggmobile. Sonic slapped a palm to his forehead as Shadow’s eyes narrowed into slits.

“There you are, Sonic! Behold, my greatest plan yet!” Eggman announced smugly, descending to the ground and striking a pose in front of his foe. He was trying to look cool, but the effect was slightly dimmed by how he was clearly in pain despite all his gusto. Of course he was, given that Shadow’s shoes were a few sizes smaller than his own. “I’ve figured out a way to match your speed, and now I can finally defeat you, thanks to my new roller skates! Don’t even try to stop me—”

“Trust me, I don’t have to,” Sonic sighed, hand running down his face.

“Wait, what?”

“They’re air shoes,”came three menacing words from right behind Eggman. Eggman barely had the chance to realize that Shadow had teleported from his spot at the counter before another CLANG even louder than the last one rang out. Down the street, a few villagers in their homes opened their windows, poking their heads out in confusion.

“This pathetic island is populated by trash and trash only,” Shadow sniffed. He threw the menu off to the side and bent down to take his shoes back. When he couldn’t remove them so easily, he growled again and resorted to yanking on them with so much force that Sonic was surprised that Eggman’s feet didn’t pop off with them. Putting them under one of his arms, he stomped back over to Dave’s body to do the same with his gloves. With all his gear now back in his hands, he glanced over his shoulder at Sonic. “I’m out of here. You can go get your swill elsewhere. Or starve. It makes no difference to me.”

He teleported away to who even knew where, leaving Meh Burger completely unmanned by anyone still lucid.

Sonic stood quietly for a second before looking down at Eggman, who was face down on the floor with his butt in the air, his toes red from being crammed into ill-fitting shoes, and his hands covering the rapidly forming bruise on the back of his head. “You okay, Egghead?”

“Mombot…” Eggman whimpered, dazed. “I want Mombot…”

“Yeah, I dunno how you thought that could’ve ended any other way, to be honest.”

[thelunarfairy]

Hello! How are you? I'm Brazilian too! Nice to meet you! I love your analyses!

I really like your thoughts on the problematic relationship between Hanako and Tsukasa! Even though I find it a bit strange that so many people feel excited about a possible 'incest'.

Usually, most people believe that Amane and Tsukasa had a victim and abuser relationship. They think Amane murdered Tsukasa because he couldn't take the abuse any longer.

But I believe it was the opposite, to be honest. I think Amane was the problematic one. Tsukasa seemed very happy and with lots of friends during Omen Arc. Amane always seemed distant from everything and everyone.

I genuinely think that the twins relationship was really good. But It became very problematic with time, and Amane became obsessed with Tsukasa in some way. Perhaps this obsession led him to kill Tsukasa.

PS.: I doubt 'God' would have punished Hanako to become a supernatural if his crime was simply an act of self-defense. That's why I really believe Amane isn't completely innocent!

I would really like to hear your thoughts about this 'abuse' theory. A lot of people believe that Tsukasa is just a manipulatice monster and that really annoys me. I genuinely believe that their relationship wasn't simple and could indeed have been romantic and really intimate. However, I don't think Tsukasa would truly be capable of hurting his brother simply "for the pleasure of doing so."

Yeeeeeey another Brazilian for the team! \O/ Happy to know that you are Brazilian Anon ^^

The twins' relationship is particularly fascinating, the unknown that hangs over them, like a gray cloud that doesn't allow you to see beyond the limits, is mysteriously curious.

It makes people have all kinds of ideas about how this relationship works, and one of those possibilities is the romantic side of things. After a while, you get used to the fact that there is always a group in the fandom that will ship taboo couples, forbidden couples, the twins fall into this.

I tell you that the first theory I found about JSHK was about abuse. The evidence makes it have a certain meaning, after all, if it hadn't, it wouldn't have spread and been known by so many people.

The panic reaction when seeing Tsukasa, breaking into a cold sweat, being embarrassed, blushing, the image of Tsukasa about to bite Hanako's ear while he is tied up and defenseless, the injuries in suggestive places, such as the neck, mouth, rope marks on the wrists, and Hanako's words "I forgave, even if it's unjustifiable"

And of course, the fact that Hanako is perverted in that way, generally (in some cases, not all) people who have suffered sexual abuse tend to have more intense desires than ordinary people, again, it depends on the victim, it depends on the person. Each of them reacts in a different way, but this is one of the possible consequences.

All of this is evidence, it turns out that evidence tends to lead us down several paths, and that of abuse is one of them. Don't rule out this theory yet, let's keep it close, it may not have been Tsukasa, but something happened.

That said, let's think about the evidence we have now. Lately we have had more and more presence with Tsukasa in a more intimate, more personal way, we saw part of his childhood, and we discovered his altruistic side, as well as his innocence in certain situations.

Tsukasa is a very intelligent boy, but he still acts like a little boy. You can clearly notice that he is not as mature as Hanako, he has a certain level of undeniable innocence.

And this is where we see the abuse theory break down. We saw in the last chapter that he was surprised to discover that Amane wanted to do perverted things, Tsukasa also believed that kisses tasted like lemon, which means he hadn't kissed anyone before (maybe), I could mention many other situations, but the answer would be too long.

You see? Nothing strange here.

That's because we're targeting the wrong person. Exactly, we have to target Hanako.

Amane seemed to have a big problem that he was having trouble solving, something that tired him, something that seemed like a dead end, and this was reflected in his eyes. It wasn't a matter of him being unfriendly, there was something going on that made him that way.

Amane didn't care about anyone and didn't want anyone to meddle, he's still like that. Like Hanako, he only cares about the people he likes, the rest is just the rest. Hanako seems to be oblivious to people who don't interest him, have no importance and sometimes no empathy.

But why was he like that? Maybe he didn't want to get involved with anyone so they wouldn't find out what was going on, something that was clearly related to Tsukasa.

Amane appears to love Tsukasa the same way he loves Nene. Hanako has been troubled lately trying to save Nene's life at all costs, he didn't make the best choices for that, but he did, and the more he fails, the more tired he seems to get.

There is the idea that Amane was destined to die from the beginning, but Tsukasa sacrificed himself in his place. So, maybe he tried to change that, considering the idea that he must have found out about it, at some points we saw Tsukasa asking if Amane wants him to stay or leave, he is the one who has to decide.

So, it seems like it has something to do with this sacrifice thing, trying to save Tsukasa's life, that's because Amane hates himself, he doesn't care what happens to him, he just wants Nene to live, so, Who can guarantee that he didn't already feel this way when he was alive?

"My brother died because of me"

Perhaps, Amane's love became "different" when he discovered what Tsukasa did for him. Hanako isn't one to resist when he discovers that people do something for him, care about him, we see this with Nene all the time, and we also saw that Tsukasa did three times as much for Amane.

Maybe he fell in love with Tsukasa, but because it was wrong, he suppressed that feeling with all his might. But, we know how jealous and possessive he is, seeing the way he talks about Tsukasa having friends, almost like a disregard for it.

It's hard to talk about this when we haven't seen much about them. But lately, this idea is the one that's been floating around in my thoughts.

An older brother who fell in love with the younger one and tried to hide it at all costs, the more he discovered or spent time with the younger one, the more intense it became. The fear of suddenly losing his brother again may have made him insecure, clingy, possessive.

What types of desires did Hanako have for Tsukasa? What kind of things did he think to the point that he had to hide it at all costs? Why when Tsukasa found out that he wanted to do perverted things did Hanako for the first time act extremely embarrassed?

Passion, desires. Tsukasa has a more innocent love, perhaps he can be in love too, he compares himself to Nene when she confirms that she loves Hanako in a romantic way. But, it turns out that maybe he doesn't quite understand what kind of love he feels.

So, that's what it implies, a forbidden love that was stifled until Amane couldn't take it anymore.

Of course, we have to consider that Amane may have killed Tsukasa with the intention of killing only the creature, so a duality.

The abuse theory became weak after we found out about Tsukasa's more innocent nature, but that's no guarantee of anything.

It is a theory with logic that is applicable in some senses, but which is falling apart.

Maybe?