#but these are my gut impressions at least

[wrenhavenriver]

the way that a P who’s gained a significant amount of humanity will actually physically change to look like a young man old enough to have graduated rather than the more childish waif-like appearance he has at the start of the game makes me think that Geppetto, whether consciously or not, modeled him after Carlo when he was an age before their family relationship had been irreparably soured.

like, comparing the flashbacks we see of Carlo’s life, when he’s left at the Monad House as a young child he’s upset and anxious to know when Geppetto will return, but by the time we jump ahead several years to him telling Romeo that Geppetto missed his graduation he’s undeniably hurt but also much more bitter and (at least putting up a front of being) callous about it, remarking that he wouldn’t even care if Geppetto had kicked the bucket while he was away. i think P’s early game appearance probably comes from how Carlo looked during those years somewhere in between—a time when Carlo was less “difficult” about Geppetto’s neglect, perhaps, because Geppetto’s urge to bring Carlo back seems to be much less about him missing who Carlo was and more about trying to avoid/rewrite the truth of his own failures as a father.

maybe while Carlo was alive Geppetto had thought that he’d have time to fix things between them or that Carlo would eventually grow up to “understand” why Geppetto was always away—but then Carlo died tragically young, and he died resenting him. for Geppetto the only thing worse than this grievous loss would be acknowledging that Carlo was right to resent him. much easier to model this temporary replacement vessel after the Carlo from a time before he had given up on Geppetto as a father; much easier than confronting the fact that Geppetto was a father worth giving up on.

it’s fitting that the “Carlo” we see in the “Real Boy” ending seems far less human than P ever does, because he was never meant to be an accurate portrayal/resurrection of the young man Carlo was—rather, he’s compliant, and happy to see Geppetto, and ever so much more convenient than the real son who’d been so disappointed by his father.

[clamorybus]

we got bacl from grammie's wake. it was surprisingly pleasant despite how sad we were

[rynbutt]

safe. | spencer reid.

You were pregnant but JJ had just left the team and they needed you. You hadn't told anyone; you hadn't even told Spencer.

my masterlist!

cw: fem!reader, pregnant!reader, guns, violence, mentions of murder, mentions of drugs (antidepressants and opioids), mentions of car accident, gunshot wounds, death of pregnant woman, general criminal minds themes.

wc: 6.2k

a/n: bruh this was a looooong one! dw some banging smut coming in the next one with post-prison reid >:3

now playing... Fare Well by Hozier

This was really starting to piss you off.

You fell to your knees as bile pushed up your throat, your skin paling as you vomited for the third time today. You tried to keep something, anything, down but you would just wind up curled in on yourself and sweating in the corner of the bathroom stall. You ate a couple of crackers and sipped on water to keep your empty stomach satiated– But you always ended up right back here on the bathroom floor with your head between your knees trying to will the pain away.

Emily noticed your pale complexion and how exhausted you looked, offering to get you some medicine or ask Hotch about sitting out of the next few cases. You told her you were fine, that it was just stress. That answer seemed to satisfy her enough, though she wasn’t fully convinced. To be fair, your workload had increased tenfold since JJ was forced to accept the job at the Pentagon, and you missed her terribly but you were proud of her. But you really could have used her advice right about now.

Because you swore this baby had it out for you.

You found out you were pregnant just over a week ago and you still hadn’t told Spencer. You were still wrapping your head around the whole thing because initially, you didn’t think you were pregnant, you just thought your body was dealing with the stress and workload in, frankly, a bizarre way. Hotch had wanted you to take over doing JJ’s job as communication liaison, which were rather important shoes to fill. He had total faith in your ability to do JJ’s job as well as do your own as a profiler, but you weren’t so sure anymore. 

You would tell Spencer when you were ready and right now was not a good time. Everyone was surviving on four hours of sleep a night, far too many cups of coffee and sheer willpower. The absolute last thing they needed was to lose another team member. So you soldiered on like a champion– a champion who still held her head over the bureau’s less than impressive toilet while she threw her guts up.

“Y/N?” You didn’t even hear the bathroom door open, the ringing rattling around your skull distracting you from your surroundings. Penelope’s heels clicked against the tiles as she cautiously peered around the wall of the last stall where you kneeled on the ground. “Oh my god, sweet thing! What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, Pen,” your voice was hoarse when you finally replied. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and tried to smooth your hair down, attempting to look at least semi-presentable before you left the bathroom to pretend everything was okay.

“No, no, my girl, you are not fine!” Penelope stood in behind you, pulling your hair out of your face as you vomited the last remnant of your soul into the toilet. “You need to talk to Hotch, you’ve got a bug or something, my dear. You shouldn’t even be at work when you’re this sick, let me talk to him for you and you just go home–”

“I’m not sick, Penelope!” You didn’t mean to shout at her, you really didn’t, you just felt awful and felt like a shell of yourself with how poorly you’d been sleeping and eating paired with all the stress of doing JJ’s job as well as your own. It was just a lot.

Penelope went quiet but stayed close to you, still holding your hair as you sat back on your heels, running your hands down your face. She let out a soft sigh, knowing you didn’t mean to shout at her. Penelope was stressed too– everyone was.

“I’m sorry, Pen,” you mumbled, your throat hurting from all the vomiting and coughing you’d managed to do today– it had to be a record honestly. 

Penelope just shook her head at you, reaching her hand out toward you, “you don’t have to apologise, sweet girl, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate.” You shook your head, you still felt bad and shouting at sweet Penelope was not the way to deal with all the emotions swirling around in your head.

“It’s not fair,” you replied as she helped you to your feet, gently guiding you over to the basin to help you clean yourself up. “You’re stressed too, I didn’t mean to yell.”

Penelope brushed some of your hair out of your face, her gaze narrowing as she watched you, waiting for you to tell her what was going on. It never came and she knew she would have to push you a little. Penelope thought it was necessary though because seeing you like this was awful and she couldn’t even imagine how Spencer would react if he knew how sick you were.

“What’s going on?” Penelope’s voice was soft; gentle, just trying to get you to talk so she could help. You were stubborn when it came to asking for help and by the time you did, you had hurt yourself more than necessary trying to solve it yourself. Not this time though– Penelope refused.

“I’m okay–” you looked at Penelope and she raised her brows at you, not accepting that answer in the slightest. You sighed, knowing this is a fight you wouldn’t win. “I’m pregnant.”

Penelope’s jaw nearly hit the floor. She knew something was up with you but pregnant? That was not on this year's bingo card. “What?? Y/N that’s–” she gauged your expression and she really couldn’t tell if you were upset or happy about being pregnant. She cut herself off before she finished her sentence, pulling her lips into a line. “Are we happy about this news or are we…?”

“We’re…” you were happy. Honestly, you were. You and Spencer had talked about having kids one day, ideally after you were married but that didn’t seem to be going to plan. You’d been with Spencer for three years, in the BAU for four, it’s not like your relationship was new or in the honeymoon phase, it just wasn’t the original plan and that scared the hell out of you. But you were happy to be carrying his child– the timing was just piss poor. “We’re happy… just scared.”

“Oh, baby,” Penelope cooed. “Of course you’re scared, it’s a huge adjustment. But I know you and I know Spencer, you guys will nail this parenting business.” Penelope managed to prove time and time again why she was your best friend. You often wondered if she knew you better than you knew yourself, which wouldn’t really surprise you given her job.

“I hope so.” You smiled softly, feeling somewhat human again after splashing water on your face and washing your hands. You knew Spencer would be a good dad, he was so good with kids and he was so gentle and patient with you. He was meant to be a dad. You just weren’t sure if you were meant to be a mother. You wanted to be a family with Spencer, it made you feel warm just thinking about it, but you were a person who worried about almost everything, even the things out of your control. What scared you was how in control you were. 

“I’m surprised Spencer hasn’t told everyone, that boy is obsessed with you and you’re making him a dad? God, it must be killing him sitting on this–” Penelope suddenly looked at you wide-eyed, connecting the dots all on her own. You winced as you watched her figure it out, gritting your teeth as she let out a soft gasp. “You haven’t told him?!”

You covered your face with your hands, letting out a muffled squeal of frustration into your palms. You would tell him eventually, just not right now, he was far too busy and was already stressing about his own workload, you couldn’t imagine how much more stressed he would be if he found out you were still in the field while pregnant.

“Pen, please,” you turned to her, “please keep this to yourself. I– We can’t deal with this right now. JJ’s gone and everyone is worked to the bone, I can’t do this to everyone right now, especially Spencer.” Penelope looked at you sympathetically, you knew you were asking a lot of her to keep it to herself, especially when Penelope wasn’t great at keeping secrets.

“Y/N, sweetie, you’re going to have to tell them eventually– You’re an FBI Agent. Being in the field is so dangerous and you don’t just have yourself to think about anymore.” You knew Penelope was right. You carried a gun around for Christ’s sake, you literally hunted down serial killers, active shooters, total psychopaths and everything in between. The field was no place for a pregnant woman. 

“I know, I know,” you sighed, resting both of your hands on the basin in front of you.

“...How far along are you?”

“Twelve weeks,” you said softly, resting your hand against your belly. You didn’t have much of a bump yet but you were sure it would sneak up on you before you even realised. Lucky for you, you wore a lot of baggy sweaters around the office so you had some wriggle room when it came to hiding it.

“...My money’s on a girl,” Penelope was trying to make you feel better. She really was helping because the idea of Spencer hosting tea parties, getting covered in kitten stickers and his hair being covered in tiny butterfly clips made your heart swell.

You let out a soft laugh, “I think so too.”

“Alright, my love, I think we should leave this bathroom before they send out a search party,” Penelope laughed, linking her arm with yours to guide you out of the bathroom. 

You honestly did feel better after talking to Penelope and throwing the rest of your guts up. She made sure to remind you about ten times to call her if you needed anything, you promised you would because it did make you feel better knowing that someone knew about your pregnancy and you didn’t have to bear the weight of the news alone.

You sat down at your desk with a sigh, sipping on your water bottle to soothe your raw throat. You popped a piece of gum in your mouth, willing the taste of bile away. You let out a huff of air as you stared down at all the paperwork you had to do. Doing JJ’s job proved to be intense, especially when you were doing your own work on top of her’s. You picked up your pen when you felt Spencer press a kiss to the crown of your head as he placed a mug of hot coffee on your desk in front of you.

You smiled, craning your neck to look up at him. Spencer took the opportunity to kiss you softly, one of his hands resting on the side of your desk while the other rested on the back of your chair. You smiled against his lips, “shouldn’t you be working?” You teased.

“Are you trying to get me to go away?” Spencer looked at you curiously. You rolled your eyes playfully because of course you didn’t want him to go away. If anything, you wanted him to pick you up and take you home right this second.

“Yes, Spencer,” you replied sarcastically, “I’m trying to get you to go away.” Spencer wasn’t great with sarcasm but he had come to understand your humour over the years. He just grinned and pressed another kiss to your lips.

“Sarcasm is rooted in truth, angel,” Spencer retorted with a gentle smile. 

“I am joking, but we both have a lot of work to do, Spence. I don’t know how I’m going to manage doing JJ’s job as well as my own,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair.

“There’s a reason Hotch wanted you to do it. I don’t think he could have picked anyone more capable,” Spencer replied. Maybe it was the hormones and the fact you were carrying a baby, but the comment made you want to cry. Spencer frowned as he watched your face fall, “what’s wrong, angel?”

“No, nothing,” You replied, sniffling quietly. You gave him a genuine smile, “I’m fine, Spence. I promise–”

“New case just came in,” Morgan called to the two of you, gesturing toward the meeting room at the back of the office with a manila folder in his hand. 

You looked at Morgan with a confused expression because now it was your job to decide what cases the team took after JJ’s departure. Morgan told you the case went straight to Hotch this time; an old friend had called in a favour. 

Spencer pulled a chair out for you, taking the seat right beside you in the meeting room. You opened the case file the moment Penelope dropped it in front of you.

“The victims are 20-year-old Evan Miller and 21-year-old Daniel Clark, both engineering students at Caltech. They were shot three days apart outside their family homes in the local area of Pasadena, California.” You followed along with Penelope as she gave a run down of the victims and the circumstances of their deaths.

The killings were straightforward, the UnSub didn’t try to dispose of the bodies and the men were simply shot in the head execution style. It didn’t seem like the doings of a serial killer who would usually seek some kind of sexual release from torturing and killing their victims. If anything, it seemed like revenge killings.

“They were just shot?” Emily questioned, eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the crime scene photos. 

“Once in the head,” Hotch replied, “there were no witnesses around which suggests the UnSub knew the routine of the victims and the neighbourhood.”

“Could be a stalker?” Penelope suggested.

“Stalker victims are usually the object of a stalker’s affection, they rarely act in violence let alone such a blunt killing,” You replied, confused by the nature of such a straightforward murder.

Spencer flicked through the victim’s files, “the single shot to the head suggests the UnSub just wanted them dead. No physical evidence of sexual release or torture… This could be some kind of revenge killing.”

“Did these victims know each other?” You asked.

“According to their parents, they came from the same friend group,” Penelope replied. 

“Wheels up in thirty. Garcia, you're coming with us. Get your go bag,” Hotch said, quickly standing up from his chair. Penelope made a small noise of surprise before quickly ushering out of the meeting room. Hotch didn’t usually have Penelope come along but given you were short a very valuable member of your team, Penelope had started coming along more often. Not that you would ever complain having Penelope around. 

You pinned up the last of the crime scene photos on the board, standing back with your hands on your hips. Spencer was writing on the whiteboard next to you, jotting down all the things you knew about the victims and possible motives of the UnSub. Hotch and Morgan were engaging in formalities with the local detectives on the case while Penelope got herself settled in the makeshift office they had set up for the team. 

“The parents of the victims are here,” Emily poked her head into the office. “Y/N, Hotch wants you to talk to Ben and Sarah Miller, I’ve got the Clarks.”

“Alright, I got it,” you replied, letting out a dejected sigh. 

“You okay?” Spencer gently tucked some of your hair behind your ear, turning his full attention to you. You let out another sigh, nodding your head tiredly. “You can do this,” he said quietly, his eyes shifting between yours.

“Yeah, I know,” you smiled softly. Spencer planted a soft kiss on your cheek before leaving the office, leaving Spencer and Penelope alone. 

“...I think she needs a break,” Penelope said after a beat. 

Spencer looked at her, eyebrows furrowed, “what makes you say that?”

Penelope tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, “she’s doing JJ’s job and her own. I mean, I think she’s the right girl for the job but… you know what she’s like.”

Spencer sighed, he knew exactly what you were like. You always held yourself and your work to such a high standard and you often overworked yourself to make everyone happy. “Yeah, I know. I’ll talk to her when we get back to the hotel.”

“I think that’s a great idea, lover boy,” Penelope grinned.

You opened the office door, files in hand. Mr and Mrs Miller immediately stood up as you entered and you gave them a sympathetic smile. Mrs Miller had clearly been crying, still clutching a tissue in her hand while her husband paced around the office.

“Please, have a seat, Mr Miller,” you said gently.

“I’ll stand,” he replied firmly. You decided not to argue and sat down on the chair opposite the couch where Mrs Miller sat.

“Mrs Miller, I’m Agent L/N, I’m with the Behavioural Analysis Unit in the FBI–”

“FBI?” She questioned. “Was Evan in trouble?”

“We suspect he and his friend Daniel were killed by the same person,” you explained. Mrs Miller let out a soft gasp, her hand coming to rest over her mouth. 

“Is it alright if I ask you a few questions about Evan?” You asked. Sarah didn’t say anything but she nodded her head, fresh tears forming in her eyes. “Daniel and Evan knew each other, right?”

“They went to high school together,” Sarah replied, her voice shaking. “They were so excited when they both got into Caltech,” she smiled sadly, fresh tears streaming down her face.

“Do you have any idea who killed our son?” Ben asked, his voice sounding angry.

“That’s what we’re here for,” you said, “we’re here to find who killed your son and why–”

“‘Why”?” Ben repeated, “he was just a kid.”

You sighed softly, “I understand that, sir. We’re just trying to figure out a possible connection.”

“Evan and Daniel were good kids. They would never hurt a fly,” Sarah frowned, sniffling softly as she began crying again. 

“Did Daniel and Evan hang around the same social groups?” You asked, turning your attention to Mr Miller, who was still pacing around the office with his arms crossed. “Maybe in some kind of extracurricular activities?”

“They were both on the college basketball team,” Ben said after a beat. “Why? You think this asshole is going to kill more of these kids?”

“I am just trying to get an idea of the social groups Evan and Daniel were a part of,” you didn’t want to get into the gory details of why you were asking such questions and decided they were both far too emotional for you to keep asking them questions; you would let Hotch handle it. “I need to speak with my team but I’ll be right outside if you need anything.” You rested a hand on Mrs Miller’s shoulder and you couldn’t shake how much you missed JJ doing this part.

You let out a sigh as you left the office, rubbing the tension in the back of your neck. You slowly walked over to Hotch, “Evan was on the Caltech Basketball team, he and Daniel went to high school together and Evan’s parents were adamant he was a good kid. I think he was a good kid, just got involved with the wrong people.”

Hotch let out a breath, “I want you and Prentiss to go to the school, talk to the faculty, basketball team coach, anything you can get.”

You nodded, gesturing to Emily on the other side of the bullpen. She firmly nodded at you and the two of you left for the school.

The team worked the case for two days before another body showed up. Everyone was starting early and finishing late to find the person who was doing this and you worked closely with the detectives and other officers on the case. Hotch gave the profile as soon as the team was certain but given the demographic of the suburban areas he was targeting these boys, it was rather unremarkable. The third body belonged to 21-year-old Oliver Marsh, another Caltech student studying Physics. He was shot once in the head while walking his dog no further than a block from his house. 

You stood in the middle of Oliver’s bedroom staring at the posters and certificates that littered his walls. Spencer rifled through papers on his desk, mostly finding papers related to physics journals and essays for school. Emily and David were downstairs talking to the parents while Hotch and Morgan went to see the crime scene.

You walked over to his bedside table pulling it open. There were a lot of birthday cards and a game boy but what caught your attention was the little clear yellow bottles with white caps. You lifted the first bottle out, reading the label–

“Oliver was taking Oxycodone,” you said softly, catching Spencer’s attention. “...And Escitalopram,” you spun on your heel, showing Spencer the two bottles. Spencer took the bottles from your hands, eyebrows furrowed as he carefully read the labels. “Chronic pain?” you suggested.

“Could be,” Spencer replied. “He could have been taking non-steroidal anti-inflammatories too, they’re typically over the counter.”

You rifled through the drawer again, pulling out a blue box, “Yeah, he was taking Ibuprofen too.”

“We should talk to the parents,” Spencer said. You nodded and the two of you ushered down the stairs to where his parents sat in the living room with David and Emily. “Was Oliver suffering from chronic pain?” Spencer quickly questioned before he even fully made it into the living room.

Oliver’s mother held a tissue to her nose, glancing at Emily with a confused expression. You put your hand on Spencer’s bicep, “Has Oliver injured himself recently? Maybe a fall or injury while playing sports?”

Oliver’s father shook his head, “No, not recently. He’s been on those antidepressants for a few years and takes the codeine when he has– had flare-ups.”

“Flare-ups?” David asked pointedly.

“He was in a car accident four years ago,” Mrs Marsh said, “He was in the passenger seat and was in a coma for two weeks… he hadn’t really been the same after that, got really sad and antisocial… he was in a lot of pain too.”

“He had to stop playing Football and running track, his body just couldn’t keep up,” Mr Marsh added, his eyes glazing over. “He lost a lot of friends, I don’t think I ever saw him hang out with anyone, Physics became everything to him.”

“Do you have evidence of his medical records anywhere?” Spencer asked. “Just so I can look them over.”

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Mrs Marsh stood up, Spencer following her to their home office on the other side of the house.

You sat down across from Mr Marsh, “The accident he was in,” you started, “what happened?”

He looked at you with a pain in his eyes, “He was in the car with some of his friends and they were driving home from a party and it was late. I think they were all…” he hesitated for a moment, “they were all drunk.”

“Who was in the car?” Emily asked, not liking where this was going.

“...Evan Miller and Daniel Clark,” his father began to cry, holding his hand over his mouth. You felt your eyes widen, this was a revenge killing.

“Who was driving, Mr Marsh?” David asked quickly.

“Um, god–” He sniffled softly, “Peter… Peter something, he was older than them, I really don’t remember.”

“Thank you, Mr Marsh,” You stood up, quickly moving to the front door to call Penelope. You pulled out your phone, dialling her number. She picked up after the first ring.

“How may I be of service, oh queen of my country?” she sang, her fingers typing furiously against her keyboard. 

“I need you to look into an accident for me, four years ago,” you said with your hand on your hip. “Oliver Marsh, Daniel Clark and Evan Miller were all in the accident too. See if you can find newspaper articles, news segments, anything– I think we know who the last target is.”

“Right, give me a moment,” Penelope replied. You heard her typing before she stopped, “Oh no…” she mumbled softly.

“What’s wrong, Pen?” You furrowed your brows.

“Peter Harvey,” Penelope sighed, “he’s the last boy… He was driving with three other high school boys; Oliver, Daniel and Evan when they struck an oncoming car and killed a pregnant woman on impact; her husband walked away without a scratch.”

“Shit.” You cursed, “What’s his name?”

“Jonathan Hughes, his wife was Katherine… she was 8 months pregnant, Y/N.” Penelope sounded so pained and you knew she was thinking of you and the small baby you were carrying. “Y/N…”

“I know, Pen… After this case wraps up… I’ll tell everyone,” you replied with a gentle sigh.

“And you’ll take time off?” Penelope sounded like she was lecturing you.

You smiled to yourself, “Yeah, Penelope. I’ll take some time off.”

“Okay… I’ll send Hotch and Morgan Jonathan’s last known address, I’m sending you Peter Harvey’s address–”

Your phone beeped as Penelope sent the address through. “Where would I be without you, Pen?”

“Nowhere good, my love,” you could hear the smile in her voice. You quickly hung up before walking back into the Marsh’s house. 

Emily and David turned to look at you, “We’ve got him.”

“Alright, you guys go, I’ll grab Reid and we’ll be right behind you,” David waved you off and Emily quickly ushered the two of you to the car. 

Emily was speeding toward the address Penelope had given you while you called Hotch and Morgan, filling them in on all the information Penelope had given you. They agreed to go to Jonathan’s address to hopefully intersect him before he left for Peter Harvey. You were always nervous when it came to these parts of the case because you couldn’t control the outcome no matter how hard you tried. A grieving man was going around killing these young men and while it was awful what he was doing; you could sympathise with him and the pain he was feeling over losing his wife and unborn child. 

You instinctively rested a hand over your belly, your thumb stroking the small curve. You couldn’t even imagine how much pain Spencer would be in if he lost you, let alone your child too. You would tell him and you would ask Hotch about taking some time off later in your pregnancy and sitting out of cases like this. 

“Shit he’s already here,” Emily cursed when she noticed Jonathan’s SUV parked a couple of blocks from Peter’s address. “Call Hotch.”

You dialled Hotch’s number and he picked up almost instantly, “What is it, L/N?”

“He’s already here, his SUV is parked a couple blocks down from Peter’s address. He’s already out looking for him,” You quickly said.

“We’re on our way, units are already on route,” he hung up after that. 

Emily pulled the car up on the gutter, the car skidding to a stop. You immediately pushed the door open, holding your gun by your thigh as you ran across the lawn to Peter Harvey’s house. You knocked on the door and a woman answered after a beat.

“Mrs Harvey?” You asked, panting softly.

“Yes?”

“Is your son Peter here?”

“No, he went to the store down the street an hour ago, he should be back soon… What is this about?” She asked, her hand gripping the door in concern.

“We believe someone dangerous may be looking for your son,” Emily said. Mrs Harvey rested her hand over her mouth, a soft gasp leaving her lips.

“Mom?” You spun around and Peter stood with a plastic bag of groceries in his hand in the middle of the lawn.

It all happened almost in slow motion. You saw a figure wearing dark clothes stalking across the lawn and without even thinking, you darted toward Peter as the UnSub pulled the gun out of his coat, aiming it straight at Peter’s head. You could hear Emily yelling at Mrs Harvey to go back inside before she pulled out her gun and aimed it at the UnSub; but it was too late.

You shoved Peter to the ground as he fired, feeling the shot burn through your shoulder as both you and Peter fell to the ground. You instinctively pressed a hand to your burning shoulder, warm blood oozing from the wound and through your fingers. 

“Jonathan Hughes?” You said, your breathing heavy as you tried to fight through the pain. He held his gun right in front of your face.

“Move,” he grunted, his eyes glassy.

“I know what happened to your wife,” you breathed trying to stall him as more police cars with blaring sirens pulled into the street.

“They killed her,” tears streamed down his face and you honestly felt bad for him. 

“It was an accident,” you replied softly.

“They were drunk,” he almost yelled, his hand shaking as his gun was still trained on you.

“I know,” you said, “It was a stupid mistake that haunted them, Jonathan. I know it doesn’t change what happened but these boys–”

“They’re monsters!” he shouted, hot tears streaming down his cheeks.

You saw David and Spencer get out of the car. Spencer’s heart was in his throat when he saw you kneeled on the ground, shielding Peter with your body while your hand and shirt were covered in your own blood. He didn’t even pick up his gun as he began stalking toward you.

“Y/N?” His voice was soft when he called you at first, then it turned to outright concern and anger, “Y/N? No, no!”

David grabbed Spencer’s arm, pulling him back as Spencer fought against him, trying to get to you. It was irrational and it was dangerous. David quickly picked up his walkie, “An agent has been shot, we need an ambulance.”

“Who was shot?!” Penelope’s voice rang out in the car as she spoke to Morgan and Hotch.

“I repeat, agent L/N is shot, we need an ambulance,” David spoke before putting his walkie away to hold Spencer back, pulling him to the ground.

“Morgan! Oh my god!” Penelope felt tears form in her eyes.

“It’s okay, babygirl, she’s going to be alright,” Morgan said, trying to reassure her as Hotch stepped on the accelerator. 

“No, Morgan, you don’t understand–”

“We’re going to get an ambulance–”

“She’s pregnant!” Penelope blurted out, not knowing what else to say for them to understand the gravity of why Penelope was so upset and concerned. 

Hotch hesitated for a moment, “She’s what?”

Penelope let out a shaky breath, “she’s twelve weeks pregnant, Hotch. She wasn’t going to tell anyone until after the case– and now she’s been shot.” Penelope began to cry, holding her hand over her mouth as tears slipped from her eyes.

Hotch hadn’t sped that fast since he found out Foyet was in his house. He cared about his team a lot and he had a soft spot for you even though he wouldn’t admit it. The tires skidded along the road as Hotch pulled on the handbrake, both him and Morgan training their guns on the UnSub as they approached.

Morgan’s heart hurt at the sight of you, your skin slightly paled as blood bloomed from your shoulder, drenching your arm and your hands. You looked so scared as the UnSub trained his gun on you, unmoving. Emily had her gun aimed at the UnSub, yelling for him to put it down.

“Jonathan Hughes!” Morgan’s voice caught your attention. “Put down the gun!”

“Don’t move!” Jonathan shouted, “I’ll shoot her!”

“No you won’t, man,” Morgan shook his head.

“How do you know that!? She’s in my way!” He shouted back.

“She’s pregnant,” Morgan sighed. Your eyes widened as you looked at Morgan, who looked back at you with a sad expression. 

Spencer stopped fighting against David, his breathing evening out as the words fell on his ears. You were pregnant. You were carrying his baby and you got shot and now you had a gun held up in front of your face. Spencer didn’t even realise he was crying, his tears cold against his warm skin. All he could do was watch, there was nothing he could do.

Jonathan glanced at you as you held your hand over your belly. “W-What?”

Morgan reached a hand out as he got closer. “Just like your wife, Jonathan… You wouldn’t kill a pregnant woman like those boys did.” 

Jonathan seemed to dissociate, staring at you with such a hurt expression as Morgan leapt forward, grabbing the gun from Jonathan’s hands and tossing it across the grass. He pushed Jonathan to the ground, pinning his hands behind his back. You let out a breath as you felt yourself grow tired. Emily caught you before you fell the rest of the way to the ground, holding you close to her body as she screamed for a medic. 

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Emily gently rocked you, “you’re going to be fine.”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, tears running down your cheeks.

Your eyes were heavy as you attempted to pry them open.

You let out a shaky breath as you finally pulled your eyes open, the smell of disinfectant hit you first, followed by the sounds of beeping. You were in the hospital. You glanced down at your arm, an IV stuck in your arm while a pulse oximeter was clipped to your finger. Despite the fact the doctor had prescribed pain medication, you still felt like shit and your shoulder was killing you.

A soft noise caught your attention and you glanced at the chair next to your bed, Spencer sound asleep in a chair with a hospital blanket draped over him. You smiled softly as you saw the flowers, balloons and plushies littered around your room, most likely a courtesy of Penelope.

“She’s awake,” Morgan smiled, standing in the doorway. 

You grinned at him, “Hi, Derek.”

Morgan slowly walked over to your bed. “Feeling okay, pretty girl?” Morgan gently grabbed your hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

“I’m okay,” you replied. You almost didn’t want to ask but you knew you had to, “...is the baby okay?”

“Your baby is fine,” Morgan replied with a soft smile. You let out a breath of relief as you placed a hand over your tummy protectively. “...You scared the life out of everyone though.”

“I know,” you sighed.

“Especially your lover boy,” Morgan said, “he hasn’t left your side.”

“Sounds like my Spencer,” you laughed softly. 

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice was laced with sleep as he opened his eyes. He quickly got up, ditching the blanket on the floor to tend to you.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Morgan quickly said before leaving the room.

Spencer’s warm hands cupped your face as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I thought I lost you, Y/N.” He let out a breath, pulling away to stare at your face and stroke your cheeks with his thumbs. You reached a hand up to grip his forearm.

“I’m sorry–”

“You don’t need to–”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Tears formed in your eyes as you stared up at him, searching for any kind of anger or resentment. There wasn’t any, he could never be mad at you.

“I wouldn’t have let you come on the case,” he replied after a beat. “I wouldn’t have let you leave the house.”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you… I knew you would be protective– more protective,” you corrected with a soft smile. 

“I’m aware,” Spencer pulled his lips into a tight smile. “You know the odds of… complications are higher in the first trimester, angel. You should have told me,” he frowned.

“I know, Spence,” you sighed. “I just wanted to make sure I was in the clear before I told you… I understand being shot isn’t necessarily helping with that but–”

“I understand,” he replied. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You stared at him for a moment, “are you happy?”

“Happy?”

“That I’m pregnant? I know we’re not married and our jobs are crazy but–”

Spencer cut you off by pressing a kiss to your lips, he pulled away slightly, “I’ve never been more happy,” he whispered.

You beamed with happiness, a bright smile tugging on your lips. Spencer hesitantly pressed a hand to your belly, his thumb stroking your tiny bump.

“Penelope thinks it’s a girl,” you muttered.

“...What do you think?” He asked curiously.

“I think she might be right,” you giggled softly.

“You know you can’t actually tell yet,” Spencer said and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“You asked what I thought!” you retorted.

He laughed softly, “Yes, you’re right, you’re right.”

“Mmm, did that taste like poison to admit?”

“Are gunshot victims supposed to be this mouthy?”

a/n: phew! i hope you guys liked it <3 i know i disappeared for a hot minute but here she is!!!

[rubberbandballqueen]

after bitterly complaining abt my hours, work has started picking up, n now i'm being asked by The Boss (rather than direct coworkers) if i can cover shifts at a new, novel location

[gladiatorcunt]

Feral feral Anakin fucking you every second of the day because he can’t get enough of you and is overly obsessed

send me coryo, luke castellan, or anakin asks (this is a threat)

implied canon compliant prequels and childhood friend afab royalty reader (basically in padme's place) based on an upcoming fic

This is canon Anakin behavior actually, he's like a big dog with his favorite chew toy. The dog obviously loves the toy a lot but it's because of his love that the toy becomes well used. No matter how tattered it becomes, the dog will still curl around it and spend its days licking the hell out of it until it withers away.

I think that because of how he grew up, just a little boy on some ball of sand whose life really didn't belong to him, as soon as he's free from that he just unravels. I love Anakin being written as more unhinged or even slightly like an eldritch horror, because suddenly he has this big destiny laid out in front of him and the tethers holding his soul together inevitably come unhooked. I think that he's wired like that from the beginning, very passionate but without a means to express it.

So, when he meets you, little royal heir with all the stars of the galaxy in your eyes, he tells a familiar story about an angel and from then on, it's over for him. Every moment of his life orbits around the sun in his solar system, you.

The first think he thinks when he sees you again, is how your moans would echo off the windows when he eats you out on one of the couches. Then he imagines your perfectly manicured hands clawing delicious ribbons down his back while he rabidly pounds your sopping wet pussy against the wall of your huge walk-in closet in your apartment. He'd have to hold a hand over your mouth, but he wouldn't do a thing to clean up the slicks that drips out of your pussy onto the floor. You'd pout as you'd rush to get ready before Obi-Wan came back, and all he'd be able to do in response is hook his chin over your shoulder and smile.

"No, it's because I'm so in love with you."

You're leaning against a balcony overlooking a lake in Naboo and all he can think about as he strokes a shy finger down your back is hiking your dress up and bending you over it. You're chained to a pillar in between him and Obi-Wan, and when all is said and done, he wishes he killed everybody that was relishing in your suffering in that arena and fucked you with their blood coating his body. He could go on forever until the last grain of sand on Tatooine flies away. He'd have gotten you barefoot and pregnant immediately if the leash around his neck was any looser.

No matter the fantasy or the moment, you always have at least one mark on you. He's not patient enough for hickies and his fingers move too quickly for any serious bruises to form on your body. He favors bite marks, near perfect impressions of his teeth etched in your soft skin. He doesn't bite to tear, just does his repeated 'chomp!'s without a single thought in his head; your thighs bear the brunt of it. Anakin likes when drops of blood bead at the surface of the bites, because then he can lick the bites soothingly. You usually have to run your fingers through his hair to get him to come back to himself when he starts doing it on autopilot with his eyes rolled back.

"Yes, yes, yessssss.... love fucking my cunt, missed making love to my sloppy pussy. Taking my dick so well, keep breathing with me, my love. That's it, just like that."

His way of saying good morning is languid strokes deep in your guts. His way of saying good night is crazed thrusts that have him putting it back it when his frenzied pace causes his length to slip out. He has is so hard sometimes, determined to carry the entire galaxy on his shoulders with you on top of it. You can the rising anger that builds within him when everything he does to prove himself goes unrecognized. The best way he has to ignore all of that outside responsibility is knocking your sweaty body up the bed while you're clutching the headboard for dear life.

Anakin's emotions bleed from him so openly, and all you have to do is drink them in. Because even though he wasn't free when he met you, you owned him them with his gift around your neck. You own him now, your cervix kissing his mushroom tip in its own display of affection. He is supposed to live his life with the intention to be the force's son, but he is burning to ash faster than he is fulfilling his destiny; at least he can keep you and your future children warm.

[backwardsbread]

Hazbin Hotel Characters:

~Marriage proposals~

Warnings‼️: genderneutral!reader, established relationship, characterxreader, lots of fluff, Valentino existing, mentions of cannibals/cannibalism, possessive behavior, pet names used, mentions of divorce, some swearing.

A/N: How would the Hazbin hotel characters propose! I might do a vise versa, where reader proposes. But this one is the characters proposing to YOU. Enjoy~!

This is pretty long- I don’t know how to find word count, but if anyone wants more, drop a request :))

?Semi proofread?

Lucifer:

This man is a NERVOUS WRECK.

When he realizes he wants to marry you, he lowkey panics. Starts acting like you guys just now started dating.

He’s super anxious, trying to impress you, and prove that he’s good enough for you.

(Whether he’s trying to prove that to you, or himself, is up for debate.)

The two of you met on a whim. You didn’t really know it was the king of hell you were talking to when you first met.

How could this be the king?? He was so goofy. His playful demeanor immediately drew you in.

With even learning about how Lucifer was, it didn’t stop those fuzzy feelings towards him that bubbled in your chest.

It took him a long time to even get into a relationship with you, due to him being caught up in his past with Lillith.

But overtime, your affection is what gets him through the tough days.

He gets all flustered and embarrassed at your sweet gestures, trying to hide the fact that he’s realizing he wants you to always only be his.

As we know, he had a previous marriage and that commitment failed him before. He had a right to feel nervous of the subject that once bruised his soul.

But in his heart, he truly knows this is what he wants. He wants to spend his eternity with you if you allowed him to.

When the thought has finally settled, and he knows he’s ready to try marriage again, it doesn’t settle his nerves.

This has to be PERFECT-

He needs the perfect ring, the perfect setting, the perfect outfit. All of which he had easy access to, he is the king afterall.

Yet, nothing seems to be perfect enough. Nothing is enough, nothing he can think of matches how strong his feelings are for you.

Once he thinks he’s decided on what will be perfect, he ditches the idea to try and come up with something better.

He consults Charlie on this issue a lot. Including her in this is very important to him. He makes sure she’s comfortable with the idea of him being married to someone who wasn’t her mother.

Charlie is a bit put off by the idea, it’s strange to think about. She never thought of her father getting remarried, but the thought doesn’t necessary upset her. She’s more worried about history repeating itself.

Overall, she wants her father to be happy, and helps him prepare for the proposal in any way she can.

(Mostly moral support because this guy is in emotional turmoil over this.)

He’s in a constant inbetween of if this was the right thing to do. Was it too soon in your guys relationship? Was it too soon after his divorce? Would you even want to spend the rest of your damnation with the one who started it all?

With heavy encouragement and reassurance from Charlie, he finally has the guts to ask you the big question.

But….. when he takes you out on the date where he meant to propose…

He chickens out. (Or ducks out haha)

“It is quite beautiful tonight.. you know I love you, right?……. Good! Yeah-! U-Uh-.. oh my golly! Look at the time! How that darn old thing does fly-Haha! W-We should head home!- boy am I tired-!”

Rinse and repeat this process a handful of times.

You do start to get a bit skeptical of your partners behavior. You guys had been going on extremely fancy dates at least once a week.

And while you had no complaints on spending time with Lucifer, you did notice his strange behavior.

The way his mood would incline before your guys’ date, and then suddenly decline when it was over. Then having to take the rest of the week to heal his pride.

It was just a big rollercoaster of emotions. You were starting to worry you were the cause of his stress.

(I mean. Technically you were)

During one of his many attempts in asking you, he had already internally given up when he stumbled over his words in the middle of dinner.

Your date was coming to a close, and like clockwork, Lucifer’s chipper mood deteriorated.

His shoulders slumped, he was pouty, and dragging his feet on the way back to the castle.

Before the two of you can enter, you grab Lucifer’s hand, stopping him. He gives you a confused look, posture straightening to look at you.

You give him small pecks all over his face, in hopes to cheer him up from whatever was troubling him.

Your actions have the affect you were hoping for, as he laughs and steals your lips into his own, a wide smile on his face as he rests his hands on your waist.

His nerves seemed to dissipate as he felt an overwhelming sense of security and love for you.

His body was moving before his mind could keep up. The moment just felt right.

He pulls away from your shared embrace, reaching into his pocket, and getting down on one knee. He opens the ring box, revealing the glimmering jewelry within it.

You look at him in shock and he returns the same look, surprised at his own actions. Well there was no backing out of it now- (saY SOMETHING LUCIFER-)

It takes him a few seconds to recover from the shock and he’s tempted to just pretend to tie his shoe. But you knew his intentions and watched the nerves wrack their way up his body once again.

Before he can even speak, give a speech he had rehearsed probably a hundred times in front of his mirror, you say yes.

And the relief that washes over this man— the weight that lifted off his shoulders in that moment— felt amazing.

You bend down with him, smiling ear to ear and chuckling as you realized this is why he was so worked up the past couple months.

Tears fill Lucifer’s eyes as he slides the piece of jewelry onto your ring finger.

You kiss away the tears that slip down his face and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug.

His tattered heart feeling stitched back together that day.

Alastor:

We all know Alastor isn’t the biggest on romance.

He’s a true gentleman, of course, but public displays of affection and intimate relationships weren’t his cup of tea.

The two of you had know each other for years in the afterlife, yet it was only recently you had put a label on your relationship.

Falling for you was never part of his plan.

He first saw you as an prey, only a possible soul he could claim for his ongoing collection.

But your sickening sweetness unfortunately grew on him over time. He once wanted to take advantage of it, but he became too fond of you to corrupt it.

You moved from his prey to his acquaintance.

You lived in cannibal town where he would frequently visit.

You join the gossip sessions with him and Rosie, indulging in their banter. It starts by you just walking by and throwing a comment towards their conversation you were listening in to. Eventually you had your own designated seat at their table.

Rosie definitely saw the potential the connection you and Alastor had, so she subtly pushes the two of you to hang out more.

This leads to your relationship advancing from mere acquaintances to good friends. The transition quick due to Rosie’s persistence.

Anytime Alastor would visit cannibal town, he would make effort to pay you a visit. He just felt so drawn to your company.

His smile felt less strained, his body would relax, and he could do what he wanted while you served up some fresh pinkie fingers.

There would be occasions of Alastor realizing he’s dropped his guard around you, and he would be snippy and aggressive those days. In fear of going soft and losing his mojo.

The first time he did this scared you,

(I mean obviously, the mans body grows two-ten times in his demon form)

But after a talk with Rosie about it, you tried to be understanding. Instead of falling away or distant with Alastor after his little tantrums, you simply waited it out. When he was back to normal asking softly if he wanted to talk about it or move on.

It wasn’t clear to you when you guys really started being affectionate towards one another. It just kind of happened.

You knew Alastor to be a gentleman before formally meeting him. So him linking arms with you, kissing your knuckles, holding open doors was nothing new.

It seemed like everyone besides the two of you knew the true feelings you two had for each other before you guys did.

You were holding hands, seeing each other everyday, Alastor would give you his coat to borrow on colder days, etc. Just small sweet gestures the two of you would share.

It took an incredible amount of time for Alastor to come to terms with his feelings. He hadn’t done this before and had no control of what his heart wanted. It was scary.

Putting a label on what you guys had didn’t seem necessary. The two of you knew what you meant to each other in an unspoken agreement.

(Rosie did eventually pressure him to actually ask you out however. It was the gentleman’s thing to do)

(But enough backstory)

More often than not, Alastor found himself spending his nights with you. Not to leave until the morning or midday after.

The two of you practically lived together when the overlord wasn’t too busy with other matters.

We already went over how the two of you weren’t big on labels. It wasn’t until Rosie asked that Alastor had even thought about marriage.

“Sooo… when are you going to put a rock on your pretty thang’s finger?”

“Hm? I don’t think it’s necessary.”

“What?? You’re kidding right? That darling and you have been together ages! You wouldn’t want someone else swiping them away from you, right?”

“Hah! Never going to happen. Who in their right mind would try that?”

“…”

“You do know where we are, right?”

It had never occurred to the Radio demon before. You guys had made your relationship official of course. Anyone else who would try and court you and take you away from him would be simply insane.

But the thought wormed itself into his brain and flourished.

The thought of not knowing what you were doing 24/7. The thought of someone possibly stealing you away without his knowledge.

The thought of some undeserving sinner having their hands on what belonged to him.

It irked him.

After that conversation with Rosie, say goodbye to your privacy. You’re not going anywhere alone. He can’t risk someone even attempting to steal you away.

It was irritating how he was always tracking you, keeping a shadow with you at all times.

If someone even dared to hold open a door for you that wasn’t him or his shadow, he’d show up at your side in an instant.

It made you anxious and overall, you felt your partner didn’t trust you.

You did express these feelings to Alastor, but your words seemed to phase right through him. You had no idea what had gotten into him to make him (even more) protective.

You joined him in bed one night, as he was stilling up, enjoying a book with jazz music emitting from his aura.

You cuddle close to him, the feeling of fuzzy static that enveloped you a comforter for your slumber.

Before you can let yourself drift off to sleep, your partner closes his book with one hand, the loud thump making you jolt.

“Say darling, what do you think of marriage?”

The sudden ask has you dumbfounded, giving him a deer in headlights stare. (Hah-)

He had never even mentioned marriage before yet here he was now, smiling at you as he waited for your response.

You give honesty, telling him you never really thought of it yourself and you were surprised to hear the idea from him.

You did mention how the subject didn’t draw you away. You knew you loved Alastor with your entire soul. Your heart and soul were his without one of his binding contracts.

Once he hears your approval he snaps his fingers making one of his shadows appear, holding out his signature red coat to him. He reaches into the pocket of his jacket, fishing out what he desired.

He pulled out a small box and handed it to you, his shadow dismissing itself from the scene.

You give him a confused look, before gently opening the box. Your eyes meeting the small band inside.

Oh- he was serious?????

You give him a puzzled look, while he just tilts his head at you, silently asking ‘too soon?’

Your eyes continue to track from the ring, to him, back to the ring, then back to him.

Your hesitation comes off as denial to Alastor, so he reaches out to take the box back. Before he can even lay a finger on it, you pull it to your chest protectively.

You give him a glare for even having the audacity to try and take this away from you. Your actions make him chuckle and hold his hands up defensively.

You slip the band onto your ring finger. Once it’s perfectly snug onto your digit, you pull your partner close to you, peppering his lips with small pecks. Scolding him in between your kisses for being so nonchalant.

He simply chuckles against your affections, telling you the ring will be a reminder you are always his.

And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Vox:

Vox is not one for settling down. No shot in hell.

Have you seen this man?? Holy hell take a chill pill.

A lot of Vox’s priorities lie with his work. He’s always pushing the boundaries of tech, eager to create something new and be on the face of it.

He never thought of dating. Being tied down to one person made him cringe. So the thought of marriage never even entered his system.

Then there was you of course. Messing up his plans.

How could he not fall for you? You were charming, beautiful, and down right too good for him.

(According to him.)

Your presence and the feelings you gave him made him feel threatened. He tried to put him a wall between the two of you, avoiding you at all costs.

But when he would look at his phone, seeing your icon pop up with messages to him. His fans would kick into gear, his cold heart ticking rapidly in his chest.

Yeah he had it BAD.

When you became a priority to him as well, it kind of threw a wrench in the balance of his schedule.

Yes he loves you but that fact scares him. He wasn’t exactly the safest demon to be around.

So he found it better that the two of you keep your relationship secret. Mostly spending early mornings and late nights with you.

It was difficult to manage. You wanted nothing more than to try hang out with your partner all day but he was always busy.

You would visit him at work, but on very rare occasion. You still owned your soul, which meant Valentino saw it as up for grabs, despite Vox’s warnings (threats) to not lay a finger on you.

As much as you enjoyed visiting your partner at work, you understood his reasonings for being uncomfortable with it.

Besides that, the chance of others seeing the two of you in public was way too high. You guys didn’t usually go on dates.

Your partner was more comfortable having you stay at home, having a double life without him. You lived with Vox, but outside of the time you two spent together, you had your own things going on.

Vox knew about it of course, he cares about you more than anything. He needs to know what’s going on at all times. And what you had going on outside of him was important to him.

He always has a screen pulled up in his monitor room while working. Just to see what you were up to.

The screen usually tracked a camera on you whenever you went out, it displayed your phone screen whenever it was in use, and showed your vitals on the bottom corner of the screen.

He didn’t trust the sinners that roamed these streets, rightfully so. Being able to track you gave him a source of comfort when he couldn’t always be around.

As mentioned before, going out on dates wasn’t really a thing. But Vox would usually clear up one day a month in his schedule. Just to spend the entire day with you.

(Of course he occasionally shuts down, checking how everything is going at V headquarters while he’s not around. Cant take this man entirely away from his work)

You’d spend those days cuddling, ordering in some takeout, and just catching up with each other. Getting in as much affection as you could.

The nights were soft and intimate. It was what you always looked forward to.

Vox had some things to do early morning on the day designated for the two of you. You did pout and complain to him, but he promised to be back as soon as he could.

Hours passed and you started to get a little bit peeved that your partner had yet to return home. Checking the time, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

You get dolled up, pack up a small container of snacks, and head to V’s headquarters.

Making your way through the crowd of demons and sinners. You head up the elevator, but it stops on Valentinos floor.

And with just your luck, the lustful demon is standing there, waiting to get on. When he sees your face, he grins wide and enters the elevator. Standing uncomfortably close.

He blows out his pink slut smoke into the small space, making you cringe and try to waft the stench away from you.

Valentino is touchy and that’s an understatement.

So when he bends down at your level, once again offering a job to you, your heart rate spikes.

Meanwhile, Vox is having a one sided argument with Velvette, the young overlord scolding him as she changed his outfit several times.

It wasn’t often Vox was used as a model for Velvette, but he had actually asked her ahead of time to design something special for you and him.

By ahead of time, he asked yesterday, not giving Velvette nearly enough time.

While he tuned out of his teammate reprimanding him, his watch buzzed, alerting him of your abnormal heart rate.

He gives a confused look, his screen going black for a second as he brought up his home security camera on his screen. When seeing you weren’t at the house, his eye twitched.

Where the hell did you go??

He was brought back, his face glitching in and out as he pulled out his phone, bringing up your location.

He saw how close you were and immediately thought the worst.

He zaps himself into the nearest camera, zipping through the electronics to find where you are.

Within a minute, he’s found you in the elevator, practically cornered by Valentino who was literally drooling on you.

The lights flicker in the elevator as it comes to a screeching halt. Cue your partner showing up with a crack of blue electricity, yanking Valentino away from you by the moth’s wing.

He puts himself in front of you, acting as a shield so you don’t have to be near Valentino’s poison.

“W̵̰̻͍̉̔̅̀̐͐͒͆̒̚ḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ǎ̴̯̀͠t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ f̵̢̻͈̫̬̻͔̘̞͈̆̇̍̈̌͊ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓c̵̛̥͊k̵̘̺̦͉͖̪̪͖͉͊̆̔́̈́̍̃̈́͒̂̑̀̚͜͝ d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅ y̶͔͗ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝k̵̘̺̦͉͖̪̪͖͉͊̆̔́̈́̍̃̈́͒̂̑̀̚͜͝ y̶͔͗ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓’r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅi̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝ǧ̷̡̟̲̹̩̱͉̮̭͇͚̮̖̟̽̓͊̔̓̕??”

(What the fuck do you think you’re doing??)

Vox’s voice glitched out, muted TV static layering his voice as the fans whirled in the back of his head. In a desperate attempt to cool him down.

Valentino doesn’t give much of a reaction, putting his hands up in feigned innocence.

“𝒟𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒱𝑜𝓍𝓍𝒾𝑒! 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝒻𝒻𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻-“

“You better watch your mouth.”

“𝒪𝒽𝒽, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃’𝓉 𝒶𝓈𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝓎𝑒𝓉. 𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝓅𝑜𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝒾𝑔 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓈𝑒.”

Valentino speaks with sickening sarcasm. You look between the two, incredibly confused. Vox looks like he’s about to explode.

The lights flicker back on, and the door opens, Vox demanding his business partner leave.

The moth scowls at the both of you, before putting one set of hands on his hips, the other set of arms crossing across his chest. In the most sassy way possibly leave the two of you behind.

Vox waits for the elevator door to close before he can breath again. He’s muttering angrily to himself, one hand on either side of his screen as he tries not to blue screen.

You put your hand over his, his cold hand giving you a subtle shock of electricity as you touched him. You give him a concerned gaze, silently asking if he was okay.

Vox looks at you, shoulders relaxing just looking into your comforting eyes. Little bolts of electricity shoot out from the side of his screen as he tries to calm himself, his fans working overtime.

You set down the bag of treats you were bringing for him to hold his hands in your own. You give him a bright smile, concern not leaving your eyes.

You reassure him that whatever he had planned isn’t ruined. You could just pretend you didn’t know! You didn’t want this little run in to ruin your guys’ day.

You ramble on as he just stares at you, almost blankly, his screen fading from blue to a baby pink as he listened to you.

As you’re apologizing for causing trouble, he puts a hand up to stop your little speech.

He reaches into his pant pocket, pulling out a small halo shaped piece of jewelry. He holds your left hand in his own as he gets down on one knee in front of you.

I mean.. you knew he had a surprise planned, but seeing his actions didn’t fail to shock you.

He gives a little speech to you, stuttering and glitching over his words as he tries to explain himself.

For being a perfectionist overlord, this was one hell of a show.

He’s a blushing glitching mess, cursing to himself when he couldn’t find the exact words he wanted to say.

You grab the sides of his screen, looking him in the eyes and forcing him to meet your gaze. You’re saying yes before he can embarrass himself anymore.

He looks a bit shocked by your response, he can’t believe you said yes after that display he just put on. Before he can get the ring on your finger, he blue screens from shock and embarrassment.

You kind of chuckle and sit down beside your partner while you wait for him to reboot. Not like you could go anywhere with the elevator being stuck with the two of you inside. You do gently take the piece of jewlry, sliding it onto your finger and admiring its design.

Cuddling into Vox’s arm, you can’t help but smile brightly at the decorative piece snug on your ring finger.

It was perfect.

[ccrites]

chokehold

listen, I've had this idea in my wips for a while (since the begnining of the year actually) and the fat reader worms have been wiggling in third gear with all the awesome stuff early ( @391780 ) has been putting out lately. So have 6.4k words of Soap being an absolute pussy eating freak but you know you love him

(also on ao3 if you prefer the formatting there, or if you want to drop a kudo)

.

The second the doors swing back closed behind you, you start feeling the scratchy feeling of doubt at the back of your throat.

It was predictable, really.

A small gym in a small town, heads turn when the hinges creak, not because they’re staring at you specifically, but because it’s a reflex.

Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself to keep the scratchy feeling from turning sour in your mouth. Or make you throw up from embarrassment.

Perhaps your New Year’s resolution should’ve been to start on a home gym type of situation. Buy yourself some girly weights, a mat, and some sort of stepping device, and do those easy exercises every slim, pretty, high-ponytailed YouTube instructor seemed to preconize people out of shape do. Like a hamster on a wheel inside their cage. A rat chasing its own tail, maybe.

No, you promised yourself no more fake promises. Perhaps the money spent on the gym membership (stupid fucking New Year’s promotion) would motivate you to use it, lest it’s just money down the drain. 

You wore the stretchiest, thickest pair of black leggings you owned, hoping no one would see the terrible shape of your underwear through it. On the opposite spectrum of things, you knew the largest hoodie you owned would smother you and make you boil with sweat, so you chose the next best thing: the widest black t-shirt you owned. It was definitely not black enough, the dye faded into a dark gray from use over the years, but it was the only thing that camouflaged your body enough from the others’ sight. God forbid they imagine what your body actually looks like underneath.

The heads pretty quickly turned back around as you started walking towards the empty treadmills. It couldn’t have been more than a second, but the combined weight of at least a dozen pairs of scrutinizing eyes would’ve been enough to make you turn on your heels and back to your car, fuck the membership price.

At the very least, you could convince yourself that walking in place (no better than a hamster on its wheel but oh well) would be enough to get you started. Baby steps, and all.

It doesn’t take long for you to realize the treadmill fucking sucks. Why would anyone suggest looking at a parking lot while suffering instead of the pretty scenery of a park or forest (while also suffering, but still).

The timer you’d set for the warm-up (ten minutes, just like the pretty blonde coach suggested!) crawls by way too slowly for your taste. You’d be all but whooping with joy when it beeps if you weren’t so out of breath and conscious of a gaze on you.

You’d seen him as soon as you walked in.

Between figures of balding men trying to get rid of their beer gut with abs, two thin women whispering to themselves in a corner while trying to look inconspicuous, and a few other, completely average-looking men and women, there he stands, eyes meeting yours in the mirror as he deadlifts an impressive amount of black plates.

He immediately looks straight ahead, correcting his stance, as if there were anything to be corrected, in your unathletic opinion. The muscles in his arms bulge even through the thin, grey hoodie, and the ones in his legs coil tight as the weight is lifted off the ground in a slow, controlled motion. Not even a grunt escapes his lips, at least no one you could hear from where you stood, completely mesmerized.

There was always something almost unappealing about overly muscled men. Their wife’s not feedin’ ‘em enough, your granny would grumble when passing by the rows of magazines at the checkout of the supermarket. 

Yet this man.

Yeah, he was muscled. But in a way, he looked… almost normal. Like he was built for strength, not necessarily vanity. Each bend of his legs, each twist of his arms…

You’d swoon if you hadn’t lowered your standards so low he’d trip on them. Accepted it a long time ago. Fats belong with fats, thins with thins, and if there’s a thin with a fat, either one’s getting fattened up, or the other’s getting dumped. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, and one you’d rather not be a part of.

You walk with shaky legs to the water dispenser, then get ready to grab the second to lightest weights to try some bicep curls.

You try to remember the positioning from the videos. Rotate in… or out? Should the wrists be like this? You go through ten repetitions on each side, before you think that you should’ve gone for the abs straight away. God knows there’s fat to burn there, and that the flab under your arms can wait.

You turn back from the rack and walk straight into a wall.

No, a chest.

Fuck.

“Sorry there, miss,” says a deep voice. You detect some sort of accent, unable to quite place it right away.

Your eyes run up, instinctively stopping for a second at chest level (holy heavens that’s a Chest with a capital C if you’ve ever seen one) before finally meeting that same pair of eyes you met a few minutes ago, through the mirror.

Double fuck.

“S-sorry, it’s me, wasn’t watching,” you stammer out, gesturing to the weights in a panicked way. “Just, y’know, switching exercises,” you sputter with a nervous laugh, like it was a completely normal thing to switch exercises after one rep.

He chuckles, and you really need to start planning your escape, because holy shit the way his pectorals rise and fall as his chest puffs up is getting a bit too much for your poor little humiliated self to handle, but he doesn’t let you as he speaks in a soft tone.

“I’m getting arms aren’t really your thing, eh?” he asks, not unkindly. Gosh, did it have to be a Scottish accent?

You can’t meet his eyes, they’re too blue, too piercing for your liking. “To be fair I don’t know what’s my thing yet, I’m just starting out, y’know?” you shift your weight on your legs, conscious of the size difference, and not in the way you wanted to be. Your neck is very warm all of a sudden.

He laughs again, like it’s the funniest thing in the world, and you almost want the floor to open up and swallow you whole, but the words that come out of his mouth are completely unexpected.

“Figured! A girl with thighs like yours, I’m sure you can deadlift more than me with just a lil’ training. I’m Johnny, by the way,” he adds in passing, as if offering his name is the least of his concerns. “You ever got someone to train you?”

You’re entirely unsure if you’re dreaming or not. Did this Scottish hunk of muscle really just offer to be your personal trainer?

“Never - uh… lifted anything, I guess. Just when moving, my couch and bed and all, but I had a friend help me.” You definitely feel like you’re oversharing and you’re struggling to ignore the weight of the gaze of the two thin women, burning through you as they whisper among themselves, when you realize you hadn't answered the second part. “Oh and, uh– no. I’ve never… trained. Been trained. It’s my first time in a gym since- a while. I don’t want to bother you.”

You finally look up at him, and you’re unable to read his expression. There’s a sort of curiosity, a fascination, that blends fast into a wide-eyed joy that’s so open, so sincere that it makes your head spin as he gently but firmly grabs your wrist and pulls you where his bar stands on the thick mat, ignoring your sputtering protests. “Not a bother at all, lass!” He lets go of you as he bends down and effortlessly racks the barbell, starting to remove plates as he continues. “We can start by measuring your max lift, then the one where you can easily do three reps, then we’ll hike it up till failure, so I can calculate your starting training weight!” he rambles on excitedly. You nervously shift on your feet, conscious of more curious gazes on you, but then he’s back in your bubble, pulling your attention towards him like a magnet.

His smile is like a blazing sun, and you don’t have the heart to tell him to prepare for disappointment.

He’s infinitely patient as he shows you how to place your feet, and the angle of your hips (oh, how you feel your knee weaken at the feel of his light tough through the leggings, nothing short of electrifying, despite being perfectly friendly), the hold on the bar. It’s all a blur till you find yourself bent over in front of him, looking in the mirror at your position and trying not to feel conscious of the way he’s placed behind you. Or let your mind wander in inappropriate places.

“Whenever yer ready, hen.”

You brace yourself, close your eyes for a brief second, wondering how the hell you’d landed on this planet, then breathe in, open your eyes-

The weight is in your hands. Not on the floor. You’re holding it.

You almost drop it when he cheers behind you, warm palms rubbing down from your shoulders to your elbows and back up. “Easy! I told you you’d be a natural! ‘S all in the legs and you’ve got awesome legs, bonnie! Let’s add twenty more.”

It’s a blur of racking and de-racking and lifting once and setting back, and redoing it again and again. You’re out of breath, sweating like a sinner in church, but you’re smiling along with him, finding yourself giving him double high fives, and doing small, excited jumps.

“Next one’s exactly my weight, if y’can lift that, I’ll be losing my bloody mind! D’you realize how well yer doin’ for a first-timer?” He says as he bends next to you, adjusting the bar for the next set of weights. With a wipe of his forearm over his forehead, he crouches slightly down, placing his head right above your shoulder and looking your reflection in the mirror straight in the eyes with a conspiratory grin. “Swear to God, if ye can lift it off the ground, I’m buying you the most expensive drink at the bar next door!” he says, grin blending into a blinding smile, too genuine for your own good.

He’s just friendly, just friendly, just friendly, you say to yourself like a mantra as you position yourself. He stands again to his full height behind you, hands ready under the bar, a safenet.

Deep breath in– hold it…

Slowly but surely, you lift the weight off the floor, your ears ringing from the effort. You see his lips move as he cheers you on, but the blood pumping in your eardrums makes it impossible to hear him. Suddenly, the weight is back on the ground and your feet are off the floor as you’re lifted in a tight embrace and spun around like you weigh nothing.

You yelp and flail but he’s holding you tight, face pressed smack-dab in the middle of your chest, between your tits, rumbling praises about your prowess while you’re trying to figure out whether this can be something that your brain is capable of summoning as a dream.

“Put me down, Johnny, oh my God, put me down!”

He thankfully complies but not before squeezing your ass tighter, and suddenly nothing feels real anymore.

“Jesus, I knew ye were perfect,” he says, pulling back reluctantly to rerack the bar and put back the weights. “I cannot wait to properly start training ye’ tomorrow, but for now, I have a promise ta’ keep, and, uh, let’s just say I wouldn’t mind using those strong thighs as earmuffs with this freezin’ weather. On the way back from the bar, what d’ya say?” he adds, wiggling his eyebrows with a crooked smile that lets you know he’s joking around. (Is he?)

You laugh with him and for a second, you forget what you were here for.

+++

The way to the bar is short. It was just a block away (Good for business, he jokes), but the conversation with Johnny made time really fly by. 

He seems genuinely glad when you tell him you’d decided to head to the gym not just as a New Year’s resolution, but trying to simply become a better you. There’s no condescendence, no talking down, no (God forbid) pity, just an overall nice interaction the whole time. He tells you about being on leave as a soldier (Medical leave, he specifies, a fucked up knee can work in a gym, but it’s a different story out in the field), you tell him about your studies and how that led into a “big girl” job that left you no time for yourself.

“But I’ve always been a big girl,” you feel the need to justify. “Just… gotten bigger as I stopped finding time to move. The desk and the laptop are pretty stationary,” you joke, still trying to make sense of why a man like him (broad, and tall, and strong, and… gosh, just perfect-looking) would even deign to accept being seen with you.

(It’s not a date, you dumbass)

“I happen to like big girls,” is what you don’t expect him to say.

Wait, what?

His blue eyes glue you to your seat, and you respond dumbly. “What?”

“I mean, why do you think I’d offer to train you?” he continues, placing his hand, big and warm over your thigh. It’s squished as you sit, wide and flattened in your seat, yet his hand covers a good amount, almost covering the whole width.

Your brain is short-circuiting but you have to answer something.

“Out of– uh… out of niceness?” you stammer out, feeling your insecurities climb back out of the hole they’d been sleeping in all this time, making you shrink even more, trying to cover yourself as if he didn’t see right through you with that piercing gaze. “To feel good seeing you be the reason I lose weight?”

He chuckles, squeezing your thigh as his head hangs down, almost as if to hide the smile that spreads on his lips.

“Strength training doesn’t work like that, bonnie.” He looks back up, and his eyes are blue, and wide, and so pretty, that you can’t find anything to argue back. “Ye’ think building glutes underneath that fat arse does anything but make it bigger?” He shifts, inching closer as he licks his lips and drops his voice lower. “Ye’ think growing your quads will make this,” he gives an even firmer squeeze, wiggling the fat back and forth, and you tense under his grip, but he’s got you pinned down, “any less wide and soft?”

He presses closer, and the booth has no escape room, you’re practically squeezed into the corner as he pushes his body against yours, bending to whisper lowly in the crook of your neck.

“I did not joke when I said I want yer pretty thighs wrapped tight around my head.”

You can’t be blamed when you don’t remember how you ended up in the back of a cab, Johnny barely taking the time to bark an address to the poor driver and throw fifty quid on the front seat before kissing you absolutely senseless, shamelessly groping your tits with a hand and wrapping the other around your thigh, squeezing you close.

You should probably think more about going home with basically a stranger, no matter how hot, but when he presses his entire palm against your cunt, cupping it over the quickly dampening pair of leggings that didn’t seem so thick anymore, you can’t think at all. He swallows your quiet moans, and hums contently against your lips, taking each gasp for air as an invitation to slither his tongue into your mouth. God, you’d forgotten what a good makeout session was like, and you can’t even find it in you to be embarrassed when you see the cabbie’s eyes in the rearview mirror, instantly looking away when you see him staring. 

Johnny doesn’t seem to mind either, and when he notices you looking in the front again and again, he crowds you against the door behind the driver with a huff, half-climbing over you until his knee is pressed against your core, and the only thing in your field of vision is him.

“Johnny,” you try to say, but it’s getting hard to think, with the way you’re being squeezed in a corner, this hunk of a man of pure muscle pressing against you like a weighted blanket, kissing you like you were a drop of water in the desert and he was a parched man drinking you for his salvation. You feel his excitement pressed against your thigh, and it gives you enough lucidity to try again. “Johnny,” you gasp out again, “aren’t we going a little fast?”

He laughs instead, choosing to focus on the side of your mouth, pressing fervent little kisses down your neck before starting to suckle the delicate skin over where your clavicle is. “I can go as slow as you’d like, bun.” He takes the spot an inch next to the previous one into his mouth and sucks again, this time more forcefully, marking you, and oh God you’re going to have to conceal it before work tomorrow, unless you can find a turtleneck to wear–

The cab driver clears his throat, and you notice that the car is stopped in front of a small apartment complex. Johnny says a cordial thanks as he pulls you out of the car and throws another twenty on the backseat, before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and taking all of the thinking out of the equation as he walks you to the entry.

His flat is pretty well furnished, all things considered, but he doesn’t give you enough time to observe the deco as he presses you against the door and slides his hand under your leggings.

“Got me starin’ at that ass the second you walked in, best fuckin’ thing I’ve seen in months, d’ye realize that, bonnie?” he breathes out against your ear as his entire palm cups your sex, and you can only whine as you press your forehead into the crook of his neck. “And by how wet this pussy is, I think you liked starin’ at me, too.”

“You are–” you say, but he curls his middle finger in, spreading your lips and spreading the wetness to your clit, making you choke on your words, “-very nice to stare at.”

“Yeah?” you hear the grin in his voice.

“Mmhm,” you nod, as he keeps the back and forth of his finger, never dipping in too far, just keeping you hungry for more.

“Then how’d ye like to stare down at me as I taste this wet cunt of yours?” he purrs in your ear as he stops moving completely, letting the words process.

Brain.exe has stopped functioning. 

Had you ever had a boyfriend willing to speak filth like that to you when you were down to do the deed, maybe you would’ve gotten enough practice to know what to answer something sensible and intelligible to that, but as it stands, all you can muster is a very dumb-sounding “Huh?” as you stare back at him.

And that, apparently, is the funniest thing in the world to him, because he dips his head down and laughs, almost like a boyish giggle. Not only does that not stop him from kneeling in front of you, but it also somehow gives him more confidence to keep talking like that.

“How about you look down into my eyes as I eat out your pretty little pussy and make you come around my tongue, how’s that sound?” His baby blues bear no trace of maliciousness, no trace of a joke, as his fingers hook around the waistband and trace it around your stomach. You have to make a very conscious effort not to suck it in immediately in preparation for the letdown, but he doesn’t pull them down yet, only moving his hand alongside the edge. Your silence as you try to process what is happening only seems to spur him on instead. “In fact, how about you close your eyes, I close mine, and you hold my head close as I devour you, would you let me do that, pretty girl?”

“I’m not-” you can’t think of any way to properly let him down, not when he looks up with such pleading eyes, so the words stumble out gracelessly. “I’m sweaty, you don’t wanna–”

But he interrupts as he pulls your leg closer by gripping your thigh and squishing it against his cheek “But I do.” He inhales deeply, and your own breath shakes at the sight of how blissed out he already looks. “God, I want it. Let me have this.”

A voice somewhere inside yells at you that this has to be some sort of weird fetish, and that he most certainly won’t be having the same aura of desperation around him tomorrow, when post-coital rationale shows up and he sees your body past the veil of lust, but for now, you think that getting some with Johnny cannot be that bad compared to any one of your past encounters. Might as well enjoy it when you still can.

You wrap your hand around the one he still has around your waistband, and see his face positively light up as you softly caress his cheek.

In the end, you’re the one that pleads.

“Johnny, please.”

Your pants are off you and your leg is over his shoulder before you realize what is happening.

The feel of his warm tongue against your slit makes any thought, any doubt, any fear positively vanish, and the content sigh that he lets out as he licks at you is the same sigh as finally removing a bra at the end of a long day, it’s the sigh of laying down carelessly onto a soft bed after standing up for hours, it’s the sigh of the first bite of the best meal a man has after starving for weeks.

It should be awkward the way his arm wraps around your thigh and sinks into the softness of your stomach, using it to pin you up as he uses his other hand to spread you out enough for him to work his jaw the same way he did when he was making out with you in the car… Yet it’s not. It’s natural, the way his hand squeezes you as he licks, and sucks, and kisses around your pussy, unhurried yet passionate, languidly but firmly, pressing his tongue in, licking around your lips, and maddeningly avoiding the place you wanted him to touch most.

“Johnny,” you moan as he grazes his teeth around your sensitive nub in response. You almost buck out of his hold, but he’s firmly keeping you in place. “Please, don’t tease.”

He hums in response and dives back in, eyes fluttering closed as he ignores your whines. Every time his tongue or lips graze your clit, he works his mouth the opposite way, holding your thigh harder and pressing his palm up as he counters your hip movements with a clever swipe of the tongue. It’s absolutely maddening. “Johnny, please!”

He chuckles as he pulls back, an obscene string of spit lengthening as he pulls back, only breaking when he runs his tongue against his reddened, swollen lips. “Thought ye’ wanted me ta’ go slow, bun.” His eyes sparkle with challenge, but you can also discern a veil of unhidden desperation, of waiting for you to give the go-ahead for him to let loose.

“I’m fine with faster–” you start, but the words dissolve into a barely restrained moan as he hikes your leg up more, getting you closer to him, and immediately singling onto your neglected clit.

His forehead rests onto your belly now, and if you had more than two functioning neurons you’d wonder how he is that he’s breathing, but his hums and moans let you know that he’s perfectly content burrowing his nose in your pussy, nudging at your clit with the tip of it as he licks you with all the dedication you’ve never been shown from a man of his caliber.

He builds it up, and soothes it down, knowing exactly when to put more pressure, or when to teasingly swirl his tongue around your entrance, or to lave broad strokes of his tongue, so much so that the knee that’s not hooked over his shoulder almost gives out on a particularly forceful suck of your clit.

“Easy there,” he groans almost petulantly, as if you’re interrupting him. “Can’t have you fallin’ over when I’m not done wit’ ye.”

“My legs are gonna give out,” you say honestly, trying to catch your breath and avoid having the perfect man at your feet steal it again. “You’re a bit too good at this.” He grins up at you, “Am I?” and you want to give you a playful swat, but instead decide on carding your fingers through his now disheveled mohawk. “Guess the mess on my face speaks for itself… Shall we take this to the bedroom?”

You throw a glance around the apartment, assessing your options. “Couch is closer.” His smile is blinding. “I like how ye’ think.”

It’s now the second time he surprises you by scooping your legs from under you and picking you up like he couldn’t wait any longer and that carrying you bridal-style was the only way he could think of moving you. You yelp out a protest but he swallows it with another hungry kiss, shamelessly smearing your own wetness over your cheek as he walks you both to the couch.

You sink into the cushions where he places you gently without so much as a grunt of effort, and oh God, there they are, the standards are rising.

You reach over to pull him closer as he straightens up, but he only gives you a peck on the lips in return, like he hadn’t been kissing you sloppily the entire time.

“Come back,” you whine, hoping you can get it done before he comes back to his senses, like they all do, but he just smiles and kneels between your feet, hands pressing your thighs apart. The squelch of your lips parting should be embarrassing were he not looking up at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, eyes full of adoration, like a child staring up at the full moon on full display on a clear night’s skies. Maybe you are his moon, his goddess, judging by the lust-clouded look directed at you.

“I did say I was gonna make you come on my face,” he says lowly, the gravel in his voice making you squirm as he places a trail of kisses up your thigh. “And I intend to keep that promise.”

With that, he dives in again, using his forearms to pin your legs open on the couch and his fingers to tease around where his tongue can’t reach. You mewl when you feel his tongue at your entrance, circling it around it briefly before delving in as deep as he could, his right hand stroking your clit rhythmically. The fact that he’s so good at somehow playing all your buttons like a maestro directing an orchestra has you thinking that he must be some sort of womanizer, some freak who does this kind of thing every night, but then his lips wrap around your nub and he gives a firm, long suck, and any restriction that you could’ve conjured up simply vanishes. Your thighs want to close around his head, but you can’t move under the iron grip he has on you.

You fist his hair more forcefully than necessary, and he looks up, wet eyelashes framing his beautiful eyes as he hums in response.

“Please,” you moan, and he hums affirmatively again, closing his eyes to focus on licking and suckling harder. He heard you, he simply doesn’t seem to care. “Johnny.”

“What,” he asks, voice muffled and why is this so hot? 

“I need… I need,” you whine, unable to string the words together, and desperately trying to buck your hips under him, for lack of strength to actually close your thighs how you want to.

That seems to get his attention, and he chuckles, before pulling back with a gentle kiss on your mound. “Guess you’ll have to keep tryin’, pet,” he sussurs, a condescending pat on your thighs before he dives in slower than before.

Oh, the absolute asshole. Now he wants you to work for it?

You think that doing the opposite, relaxing your thighs open and letting him go to town however he wanted would help, but he seems hell-bent on riling you up every once in a while, getting you closer and closer with each lave of his tongue over your poor, overstimulated clit, but never enough to actually push you over the edge.

After what seems like an eternity, and almost, almost starting to think that this was a mistake, halfway ready to let him do this thing before your hip starts to cramp up, you feel a finger nudge at your entrance.

“Fucking finally–” you start, ready to curse him out, but he’s faster than you can think in your blissed-out state, and he slides a second finger alongside the first one, immediately zeroing in on that spot that makes you go cross-eyed and buck under his hold.

“Thassit– there you go, pretty girl,” he murmurs against your clit, and oh, okay, maybe you were closer than you thought, because the rhythmic curl of his fingers doesn’t need to last long before you’re off like an arrow, back arching and thighs squeezing, coming harder than you ever thought was possible. If he were any less skilled at making you completely lose the ability to think, you’d maybe notice that you’d managed to close your thighs almost completely around his head, but he wasn’t, so you don’t, twitching helplessly in the aftershocks of the most wonderful orgasm a man had ever given you.

Limbs that somehow still belong to your body hang uselessly off the side of the couch, and you struggle to catch your breath. You blink lazily, noticing him smugly wipe his face with the back of his hand, his half lidded eyes not any less blissed-out than yours. 

You didn’t believe a man like this ever existed, until now. It aches that this might not be something that would last, so you make grabby hands at him, unable to find the will to speak just yet. 

He laughs softly and gently grabs your arms, kissing from your knuckles slowly up your arm, to the crook of your neck. The patience he has is almost inhuman, as he takes the time to let you regather your senses, matching the marks he made earlier on the other side of your neck. You cup your hand around his head in response, and he smiles at you.

“Ye’ with me, bun?”

“Mmhm.”

“That slow enough fer’ ye’?” He holds himself up, an inch fron your face, and you reach up to kiss him.

“I’m gonna kill you dead,” you mutter against his lips, and he chuckles.

“Let me at least fuck you properly, first,” he whispers, and you notice that he’s long since unbuttoned his pants. You barely get a view of the massive size of him over your belly as he holds himself in his hand, large palm not enough to cover the whole length of him as he strokes himself, angled in such way that his tip rubs against your clit on each downstroke. The word “Please,” is not even halfway out of your mouth when he sinks into you in one swift motion, the rest dissolving into a long, drawn-out moan.

“Fuck-” he grunts, “so tight, cannot believe it.”

He guides one of your legs to wrap around him, keeping it flush against his body with his elbow as his palm grips your ass tightly, the other holding him against the backrest, forearm near your head as he pulls you closer for a sloppy kiss as he starts rolling his hips. You moan into his mouth and he swallows them greedily, leveraging each trust of his hips with a pull with his hand, helping you move in tandem with him, readjusting when your thigh threatens to slip out of his hold. The slaps of his pelvis to yours should sound obscene, his hard muscles hitting against your soft, jiggly skin, but his groans into your mouth are like music to your ears, the fact that he’s vocal about it has you almost reaching your peak again in no time, but he seems to sense it, and slows down immediately.

You try to kiss him harder, but he makes a small noise of protest, muttering something that sounds vaguely like “no, let me, let me just–” and you want to ask what he wants to do, to help him, but he instead reaches down both hands to grab your hips and pull you off the backrest. You yelp as your ass suddenly hangs in the air, his cock speared inside you the only secure point as he pulls you halfway off the couch, but he directs you firmly, “Here, around me,” helping you wrap your legs tightly as he starts thrusting again, harder than before.

“Oh, God, oh God,” you flail around, but each thrust in pushes your back into the cushions, and he reaches behind his back to hold your feet in his hand as he presses his palm near your head for support, spewing more filth as he does.

“That’s it, hold me tight, squeeze my cock like ye’ almost squeezed mah heid off earlier, huh, bonnie? Show me what those thighs can do, fuck-”

Your whole body is jiggling with each thrust, and you don’t have it in you to even feel self-conscious with the way each time he fills you, the tip of his cock nudges against the spongey spot inside, making you mewl in tempo with his relentless rhythm.

“Johnny, Johnny,” you moan, and he bends over to kiss you again, swallowing his name like communion while you chant it like a prayer.

“Don’t give up now, bonnie, keep squeezin’, fuck, I can feel ye’, yer so close.”

You try to get some leverage with your upper body, trying to push yourself up the cushions, but his cock suddenly slips out of you as your thighs almost give out, and an apology is already halfway out your mouth when he kneels back down and burrows between your legs, tongue first with a rushed “Need ta’ taste us, fuck, both of us, together-”

One hand wraps around your hip and over your pelvis, reaching up to knead desperately at your stomach, to pull you closer or push you away, you can’t tell, the other pulling your lips apart to settle his entire lower face against your pussy firmly– before letting go as he starts humming.

Your thighs are free to squeeze around his ears, and he nods encouragingly as he keeps licking, and then you hear it: the sounds of wet stroking. You don’t see him fisting his cock, but you hear it, fast and desperate. As your hand tangles in his hair to pull him closer, and another hum– no, another moan vibrates through your core, it’s the last thing you hear before you’re absolutely gone, gasping out a curse as you tense up in his hold, trembling as you come.

It’s even more intense than the first one, and as you buck out of his hold, he stands up shakily, his hand moving faster and faster around his cock, the angry red of his tip at the same level as your face. You gesture for him to sit down, trying to signal to him that you want to reciprocate despite the post-orgasmic haze and exhaustion, but he shakes his head, and, seconds later, you feel warm wetness land on your belly and slowly trickle down as he moans your name when he comes.

You feel like you still have to give something back, and, when he slumps down next to you with a content sigh, you climb over to place a delicate kiss on the tip of his cock, letting out a huff of laughter when it twitches under your touch.

“Ye’ absolute menace,” he whispers fondly as he pulls you up and tips his body to the side to lie down, using his legs to push you up halfway over him, trapping you between his body and the cushions, yet protectively shielding you from falling over. You place another kiss on his stomach, and you see his abs tense under your touch as your warm breath moves his hairs as you hover for a second, before deciding to shift up and use his pectorals as a cushion. He hums softly as his arm wraps around under yours, reaching to pull the plaid off the back of the couch and settle it around you both. Ticklish, eh? That’s a piece of information best stored for later.

You’re still breathless, absolutely done for. God, best decision of your life, going to the gym. “Now what?” you can’t help but ask. It’s the same fear that always creeps up, the fear that he got to try out a fantasy, and now that he was done with it, he had no need to want to continue anything possibly serious. Not that eating a girl out on a first date, if you could even call it a date, was a sign of a one-night stand, you can’t help but feel awkward and insecure now that it’s all done, despite the comforting cuddle.

He chuckles in response, that same chuckle from earlier in the day, a What a silly question chuckle. Like he’d read into your thoughts and insecurities and found them absolutely laughable.

“Same time at the gym, tomorrow? I want you to squeeze my head off next time.”

“Next time, huh?”

He pulls your leg over his pelvis, trapping his still half-mast cock between his belly and the crook of your knee, hand firmly wrapped to shift you up, almost completely on top of him. When both of you are comfortable and you start feeling the tendrils of sleep pull you deeper, he gives a last, playful squeeze to your ass.

“Next time.”

[penny-anna]

how different Owl House characters might fare in a time travel AU (let's say back from 5 years post canon, dropped into their own body, classic scenario):

Luz: pretty good I think? i feel like she'd be able to convince Eda & King that she's telling the truth pretty easily. other characters would be tougher. post-canon Luz gives off the impression of being pretty smart and savvy plus she'd have the benefit of Glyph Mastery. most likely danger is that she'd end up over-planning and everything would just fall apart. Also the question of whether she'd manage to re-win Amity's heart.

Eda: my gut feeling was 'nothing would change' but that's not fair. would have no issue getting Luz to believe her bcos like Luz just wandered into a fantasy world someone there being like 'hi I'm your friend from the future' would be like aight let's chat. would probably hook up w Raine & their rebellion very early and get a lot of shit done.

Amity: would have a tough time getting anyone to believe her i think. also a much tougher time winning over Luz & her other friends as I don't think she'd be great at handling that situation. I could see her trying to just go it alone.

Willow: hmm i feel like she'd handle this pretty well? i think she'd do a good job of getting other people on side. similar to Luz might over plan it and end up completely losing her mind. would probably be there like 'okay now everyone's together, step one, we go rescue the Golden Guard'.

Gus: I feel like Gus & Willow mutually would trust each other unreservedly in this situation so he'd defo have at least 1 ally. significantly hampered by being 12 years old again. honestly i could see him leaping immediately to 'let's just kill Belos right now'.

Hunter: worst & yet also best option. no natural allies. extremely aware that if Belos suspects anything he is gonna be super dead. saving flapjack would be a very high priority. if we're sending him back to the beginning of s1 tho good chance of him just showing up at the Owl House and successfully winning Luz over for reasons of s1 Luz is down for anything; if we're sending him back to early s2 he's having a much rougher time.

Lilith: oh she would go insane I think

King: nobody would take King seriously

Hooty: nothing would change & i am not convinced he would even tell anyone

[evkemart]

This is it, the big one. Huge sequence for the lovely @ tawnyscrawnyleo ! This lioness seems to just get hungrier and hungrier every date... Eventually the need for Quantity overtakes Quality.

I also wrote a story for this, find it in the show more! Though I think it's best read on my FurAffinity ;3

Soft notes of piano dance through the air as you settle in at the table, across from your date. Her sparkling red dress matches well with the gleams of light you catch from her sharp fangs. The conversation is slow and steady, interrupted only by sips of wine and tastes of appetizers. As the night stretches, so do your dates orders, plates slowly becoming more abundant; an extra side order, a refill of buttered bread, another bottle of wine. Slowly but surely the lioness completes it all, leaving you to watch as she works through the high class spread. She's sat back and sighing contentedly when the bill arrives, her dress pulled slightly taut around the middle. The only thing that interrupts your enchantment is being handed the check- and realizing this may not be the best place to satiate a girl with such an appetite.

Sat under the warm lights and ambiance of the restaurant, your date smiles up to you. Once again the lioness has dressed up for the occasion, smiling up to you and brushing away errant locks of mane. Less jewelry accents her figure than before, rings having become too tiresome to remove from her rounding digits. By the time the waiter comes around, she's already hungry, with a stacked order to prove it. Her ramble of platters and pots and dishes entirely dwarfs yours, and it's not long before the table is buried in a delectable, steaming feast. The pace at which her deft, pudgy paws go between foods is impressive, whole loaves of garlic bread and glasses of wine sacrificed to her muzzle. She looks so cute eating that you don't find yourself minding when you miss the chance to try appetizers, group snacks no match for her hunger. Thank goodness the bread sticks are unlimited…

Helping the lioness from your car, all the way into the diner is becoming more and more of an arduous task. Her once fanciful gait has slowed into a powerful, proud waddle, the best of her curves wobbling with every methodical step. Despite how much effort it takes, you still make sure to show her a good time, as you often do! Dates becoming purely meals is nothing new to your relationship, but the scales have been tipping in more ways than one. Her gut has grown alongside her average order, both of them totally absorbing your attention, to the point that you forget to ask for any food for yourself! Thankfully, the hedonistic lioness before you had ordered more than enough for two- or a family, for that matter. Between bites (and belches) she encourages you to try the occasional greasy diner dish, and while certainly you got your fill, it was more like having popcorn for a movie. Stacked sandwiches, warm drinks, breakfast platters and more slowly dwindled in population until there wasn't an occupied plate in sight, the meal punctuated with the purr of a burp from the other side of the table. You can't help but smile at how cute and satisfied she looks.

You've been here a while- at least an hour or so. Your thinly veiled excuses to leave the house for food have dwindled, now a mutual agreement to heave the lioness to the nearest fast food joint in order to let loose. She's done just that, fur slick and marred with the grease and debris of her gorging, an uncountable mass of calories processing away in her belly. And what a belly it is, pouring out in front of her and dominating the space between you. The table creaks and crackles beneath the weight of her upper tummy, struggling much like the bench under her. There's little attention to petty details from the lovely lioness, who is entirely preoccupied with the greasy feast. Burger after stacked burger are devoured, with breaks rarely afforded for glugs of soda or labored wheezes for air. The employees are staring, other customers gazing at the display- but who could blame them. You're staring too. It's barely relevant when a nervous fox comes to set down another oily bag of sandwiches, more for the immense pile. The purrs and wheezes from the massive lioness, the complaints of effort from her belly, make you all the more sure you came to the right place. You'll have to take her here tomorrow, too.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

"Dude, I'm in your brother-in-law!"

Panic twists your gut as the bizarre scene sinks in! Those unnaturally clouded eyes are the trademark of Jimmy, your long-dead friend, and they're sitting in the skull of Carlos, your sister's fiance! The ghost is up to his usual antics, possessing yet another guy in your life without any regard to you.

"Did you imagine a tight gym rat like this would wear undies like these?" Jimmy chuckles, referring to Carlos' patterned boxers, "I mean how could you be so intimidated by a guy who's got hearts on his crotch?"

The underwear is the least of your worries: the man is supposed to be walking down the aisle in an hour! It may have been a dick move for your sister to get engaged to your high school bully, but that didn't mean you wanted her future husband to be late to the altar!

"Don't even bother asking me to get out of this body, dude!" the deep baritone of Carlos sings with Jimmy's cadence, "The only thing I plan on getting out of is this tux! Training like this needs to be appreciated, and who better to appreciate it than you? I'm sure you'd love to know what your sister is getting tonight..."

"I mean just look at these abs. It's like a rock hard washboard if you want a feel..." Jimmy winks one of his starkly blank eyes at you, "...speaking of being rock hard, it looks like you're enjoying this bonding time with your new brother-in-law. After all, Carlos does need to apologize for all the bullying he did in high school."

With a racing heart, you shush him and beg for Johnny to leave. He needs to return Carlos to normal before anyone notices! The wedding would be over if someone found the groom naked and flirting with the brother of the bride!

"If you're gonna be my new little bro..." Jimmy says with an unsettlingly accurate impression of Carlos' demeanor, "...then I think you should get to know me. Come on and grab my fat, meaty pecs; pinch my nipples; let me know who the real man is around here..."

It's hard to resist. You've only ever caught stolen glances at Carlos. The jerk would always shove you into a locker when he caught you staring in his direction, yet now he was begging for your attention.

"Come on, bro. Grab my athletic little ass and grope my crotch. It's the least I can do after targeting you for all these years."

Before you realize what you're doing, you find yourself rushing towards the shredded latino and pressing yourself against his exposed body, layered with dense musculature. Part of you still expected Carlos to kick you in the nuts and call you a slur, but his lips instead gleefully embrace your own.

"Damn, if I'd known being queer was this good, I woulda married you and not your sister!" he exclaims. You just roll your eyes, knowing Carlos isn't actually saying these things. Jimmy is just puppeteering his mouth for your amusement, "I bet having your dick in my mouth will be better than the tits of any girl! The only way a piece of crap like me can apologize is on my knees..."

You stifle a moan as all 200 lbs of the naked jock drops to his knees with a dopey grin. Carlos' soulless eyes stare at the tent in your pants like it's the most desirable thing in the world. It doesn't take long for him to unbuckle your pants and open his mouth...

...twenty minutes later, you're still catching your breath while Carlos slowly redresses.

"Now you can watch your sister marry this homophobic dirtbag and know that you've shoved your shaft down his throat," Jimmy purrs, enjoying his final moments in Carlos' form, "I'm not going to brush his teeth, so he'll have to taste you throughout the entire wedding."

You giggle at the thought of the guy wondering about the strange flavor in his mouth while reading his vows. Somehow, Carlos doesn't seem as big or intimidating as he once did.

"If it were up to me, I'd commandeer his whole life," Jimmy went on with a sparkle of enthusiasm in Carlos' clouded retinas, "I'd walk him out there in nothing but his heart-patterned undies and announce to his whole family that he's a flaming homosexual. Then I'd like to spend a couple weeks working his body as a stripper at the nearest club, and of course I'd come home to you every night..."

The idea of Carlos coming out to his orthodox family and working as a stripper is an insane one, but it did turn you on. It's too bad your sister's taken a liking towards him, otherwise, you'd tell Jimmy to go crazy with the guy.

"Imagine your old high school bully coming home to you every night, hot and sweaty from dancing all day, with a new skimpy costume for you to explore. Damn, I'd want you to find a new way to degrade me each night while I wore him. It'd be healthy, I think, after all he's put you through."

Jimmy's crazy ideas never cease to amaze you. A little time belittling Carlos sounds hot as hell!

You give Carlos one last kiss and remind your paranormal buddy that he has to leave soon. The stud frowns, looking sad that he won't be possessed by a gay spirit anymore. At least you know that if this man ever screws up, if he ever wrongs your sister, if he ever hurts her; Jimmy is just one seance away from charging back in his body and making this twisted fantasy come true. It's only a matter of time before Carlos screws up his marriage, and then he's yours.

You almost can't wait for your sister's marriage to fall apart, and it hasn't even begun...

[earthtooz]

x : POCKY GAME ! :*+ﾟ

in which: you play the pocky game w/ various bllk boys!

warnings: gn!reader, ooc for some, fluff, lots of kissing, suggestive but not nsfw, 300-600 words depending on which blurb :p, the writing is better in some parts than others forgive me i was fighting for my life trying to get everything right >.<

a/n: if you enjoy pls like or reblog!!! okay sorry back to ur regularly scheduled content, but pls consider reblogging!!!!! have a lovely day !!!!

CONFIDENT AND COCKY. he’s the one who taunts you into it, placing the confectionary sweet between his teeth and staring at you mockingly, daring you to take the other end.

“c’mon, sweets. what’s the worst that could happen?” he jeers, sitting back in his seat. you scoff at his egotistical show. you can’t stand him, really, you can’t.

you curse that he knows this trait of yours: that you could never say no to a good challenge. you know that he’s got you cornered, unable to contain his smirk when you roll your eyes and latch on to the opposite end of the pocky. at least he was considerate enough to take the breadstick end for himself.

both of you ignore the way you step in between his legs, placing your hands on his broad shoulders for stability before the game begins, but not without a wink sent your way first.

you hate his guts. he knows it, but he wants you so desperately it hurts. 

he tries to contain his eagerness yet he can't stop his hands from snaking up to loosely hold your hips, fearing that this was just another daydream of his imagination. you, on the other hand, remain unrushed, taking your time and not falling for his bait.

you love watching him suffer, don’t you? pushing then pulling back when he gets too close, leaving him in a lovesick haze. 

he loves that you know exactly what to do every time to send him spiralling. 

after what feels like an eternity yet no time at all, his heart stutters at the gentle hover of your lips over his before going into overdrive when you press against him, leaving no biscuit or space untouched. with little control, he gives himself fully into the kiss, conveying every pent up feeling of desire that you leave brewing within him. he has longed for this moment for ages. 

and somehow, you feel it. despite his playboy appearance, you can tell with this one kiss that he’s fully devoted himself to you. as ridiculous as the notion may sound, it's evident through the bruising embrace of his, the way he’s trying to commit your lips to memory, and the way that he's tilting his head to access more of you.

it’s enough to make your heart flutter. 

but. you knew you couldn’t give in to his wants. not yet.

abruptly parting from him, he quietly whines at the loss of contact, frowning when you push his hands away with that pretty smirk of yours. so unabashed in rejecting him, aren’t you?

“you’ve gotta work harder next time, pretty boy,” you whisper against his lips before lowering your head to press a quick kiss against his neck. “i’m not that easy to impress, especially not with a stick of pocky.”

he watches longingly as you walk away, a new fire of determination burning in his veins. 

oliver, KARASU, KAISER, SHIDOU, kunigami (after… yk) 

DOUBTFUL BUT REALLY WANTS THIS. the party is in full swing, the bass of the music is buzzing through the speakers, groups of people are getting drunk, and you? well, you're playing a game for prepubescent teenagers.

“truth or dare?” one of the party goers asks the soccer player whom you’ve harbored feelings for for a while. your stomach flips in anticipation at which option he’ll choose. 

his face twists into a split second of contemplation before the answer slips out of his mouth. “dare,” he answers confidently, returning the asker’s smug expression with one of his own.

“i dare you to play the pocky game with the person who you think is the most attractive in this room.”

everyone lets out a collective ‘ooo’ at the dare and you try to ignore the way your heart drops to your stomach, your nerves crawling all over you. the soccer player laughs before accepting it, catching the strawberry pocky box that is thrown in his direction.

who just casually has pocky as a party snack? 

you don’t get to spend long dwelling on your query because your eyes suddenly lock with his and he stands up, never breaking eye contact as he walks over to where you sit.

the group erupts into cheers of encouragement when he bends down to be eye-level with you, holding the box of pocky in his hands with a small, shy smile. he was so cute- hold on. he thought you were the most attractive person in the room? oh my goodness, where you about the kiss the man you’ve been pining after for months?

“wanna play?” he asks, sounding a little uncertain.

the only response you can muster is a stupid nod, blissful expectancy settling heavy in the air as he rips open the packet and fishes out a stick. 

“let me know if you’re uncomfortable with this.” his voice is low, murmuring something that he only wanted you to hear.

“it’s fine,” you reassure before latching your mouth to the opposite end, trying not to show the flurry of emotions whirlpooling within you in this very moment. 

was this real? are you dreaming? 

when your noses lightly bump into each other, you wake up to reality because this was real. you weren’t dreaming and his face was now mere millimetres away from yours. his eyes glance up from your lips to meet your eyes and you feel a spark occur, one that wasn’t unwelcome.

there’s just one little bit left, you can practically feel his lips against yours, the gap tormenting the two of you as one of you waits for the other to make the first move. he shakily exhales. you're going to go insane from anticipation.

fuck it. you’ve come this far.

he jolts a little in surprise at your boldness before melting into you, smiling into the kiss as all tension seeps out of his shoulders. distantly, you hear cheers and whoops from everyone, too caught up in the feeling of finally having him against you, blissfully relishing at the way your arms wind around his neck, embracing him like you've been meaning to for a while.

he smiles against you when noticing how eager you are, relieved and delighted at the same time.

"you're perfect," he whispers when he reluctantly breaks away, eyes droopy yet filled with desire.

you’re caught off guard when he tells the person next to you to move aside before sitting down, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as everyone else watches. 

thank goodness for truth or dare.

isagi, yukimiya, REO, SAE (ik he’s like a ‘cool’ guy or whatever but i think he’s a total dork so let me have my moment),

DOES IT BECAUSE HE LOVES YOU. he could not care less about some stupid game and he sure doesn’t need a fucking game to kiss the love of his life. he could do that whenever he pleases; a luxury that he will never take for granted.

but when you looked so happy and excited to try it out, how could he say no? 

“this is ridiculous,” he mutters, making his opinion known for the umpteenth time before connecting his lips to the end of the pocky stick. after a small countdown, the game begins and he starts without hesitation, biting down on the breadstick with an unmatched pace, quickly crossing into your territory.

before he could reach you though, you pull away, unsatisfied with his impatience. he groans at the sudden lack of contact, especially when he was so close to getting what he wanted.

“could you at least try a little harder?” you ask, unimpressed as he finishes the snack.

“i’m trying very hard, isn’t the point of this game to kiss one another?” he counters.

“well, yeah-”

“-if anything, you’re losing right now, love, so why don’t you try a little harder?” he asks in a low tone, nearing his face towards yours as his voice turns a little more sultry at the end. 

you push his face away, grinning to hide the effect he still has on you. “oh shut up, creep. what if i proposed a challenge?” 

“i’m listening.”

“let’s play it so that we try not to kiss, how about that, pretty boy? loser does whatever the winner wants.”

he straightens up a little at the nickname usage and the prospect of a prize. quirking a brow out of fascination, he relents. “fine. ass deal, but whatever you want.”

you keen at his willingness before grabbing another stick to set up the game once again. when you glance back up at him, a shiver runs down your spine at the darkened, lidded look he was giving you.

he prompts you to do the same when he takes a bite from the snack. 

this time, he’s slow and methodical with his actions, taking small bites to meet you in the middle where you enter a stalemate. here you can feel his breath against your lips, fanning against you ever so gently. 

this is going to be a lot harder than you anticipated because he’s really good at resisting temptation and urging you at the same time. it’s almost unfair how he keeps nearing your lips, threatening to close the gap before leaning away, leaving you to chase after him, all whilst holding a delicate piece of breadstick between his teeth. you can’t exactly make out if he’s smirking or not, but the mirth is evident in his eyes. 

he’s luring you in and it’s working.

next thing you know, you’re surging up to meet his lips in a clash of teeth, passion, and desire, all in one. it’s messy, but he wouldn’t want it any other way, especially when he’s the one who got what he wanted.

oh well, this wasn’t too bad for you either.

“see,” he says, pulling away, breathless and panting, his swollen lips forming into a smile. “this is way better than some stupid game.”

“shut up and make out with me.”

he keeps it to himself how you bought his least favourite flavour because it tastes better with you.

RIN, niko, chigiri (hear me out on this one: i’m right)

HOW DID YOU GET HERE? you were enjoying your packet of pocky, really, you weren’t expecting anything exhilarating. however, that changed when he snuck up beside you, peering over your shoulder to see what you were eating.

you don’t miss the way his eyes light up upon seeing the branded snack in your hands and immediately asks if he can have one. when you glance inside the packet to see how many you have remaining, you tell him that there’s only one left which you tauntingly put in your mouth to gloat in his face.

what you were not expecting at all was for him to take a bite of the opposite end and you're immediately stunned into silence.

if that wasn’t enough, there was no shame when he began nibbling on it, closing the gap between your faces as he concentrates intensely on eating the confectionary sweet. 

you’re quite literally frozen, not having it in you to merely blink, too scared to move or retract away from him lest your poor heart give out from how it thunders in your chest, reverberating with the might of a thousand suns. 

if that wasn’t bad enough, the way he gently grabs your face with both hands to keep you cemented where you are only worsens your current predicament. warm palms holding either side as he stares determinedly at your lips, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

was he always this pretty?

then, when you don’t think he can get any closer, he snaps the stick, pulling back with a satisfied grin, hands lingering where they’ve sought purchase before returning to his side.

“thanks for sharing, y/n. best pocky i’ve ever had in my life,” he says before turning around, walking away to leave you on the verge of a meltdown. 

NAGI, bachira (but with more excitement), otoya, 

[uglypastels]

can you do a mutant fem reader x logan but her powers are like bens from the umbrella academy and but readers like shy/kind kinda crybaby personality <333

a short but sweet blurb <3

warnings: struggles with powers. over-exhaustion

~ X-Men requests Open ~ Masterlist ~

Missions were not exactly a school trip, you were very well aware of that, but you had expected them to go a bit better. To get some kind of enjoyment or satisfaction out of them. Instead, the sheer thought of having to go to battle made you sick. At least when it involves your abilities. 

Hand-to-hand combat you were alright with. You had, after all, trained for years to be able to disarm any prick with a silly little gun that would come at you. And your skills with a blade weren’t too bad either, but when things turned for the worst and the situation called for your powers, you’d rather sink into the ground.

And it was not all because of the physical discomfort that the tentacles brought. After enough experiences you had gotten used to the quite literal gut-wrenching and pulling that came with it. It was the fact you had no way of controlling them once they appeared. It always took such immense physical and mental strain to direct them, not to mention retract them again, that it took days for you to get back to normal.

You could usually tell when it would be a particularly bad case. Like right now, as you screamed with all your might, trying to push the monster inside you back where it belonged. The scream could have been enough to daze most of your enemies, and so you were sure that after some rest, the others would want you to pursue some training in that department to see what kind of damage you could do with your voice. Since that’s all you were good for— a weapon of destruction.

The scream kept on going until you couldn’t take it any further. There was the familiar release in your abdomen; everything around you fell to silence as you fell to your knees. You felt a pair of arms wrap around you, and at the contact, you could not help but wince.

‘Shh, it’s alright, I got you.’ It was Logan. With an ease that never failed to impress you, he picked you up in his arms. He could feel you shaking, and you were unable to keep your eyes open for longer than a few seconds at a time. Just like he had thought, the effects of using your powers so extensively were taking a toll on you. That much was clear, but no one ever listened to him.

‘Stay with me, sweetheart.’ He wiped some of your hair from your face. ‘You’re save now.’

‘Logan?’ your voice came out so weak it nearly made his own legs buckle. 

‘I’m right here.’ He spoke softly, letting his lips hover over your face so you could not only hear his heartfelt words, but also feel them as his breath tickled your burning cheeks. ‘Let’s get you home, hmm.’

the end.

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

[missyonmission]

NSFW - no minors - smut with plot - Part 2

Plot: Your older brother's best friend was a pain in the ass, always seeking the opportunity to mock and tease you. You hated his guts or at least you were pretty sure you did. How can one person be so annoying and simultaneously so utterly attractive? It wasn't fair...

Currently he was sprawled out on the couch at your family's house, ready to spend the night and hang out with your older brother. Now what could go wrong if your brother left the two of you alone to get some last minute beer and snacks?

Warnings: brothers best friend Gojo - virgin reader - thigh riding - getting interrupted - oral (m) - talk about feelings and crying - talk about protection - unprotected sex - cowgirl - missionary - implied multiple rounds - aftercare - awkward morning after with Suguru

Word count: 5.931

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Satoru cursed under his breath when he heard the sound of keys at the front door, mentally strangling his friend for having the worst timing. "Damn it, he's early." He muttered, hastily zipping up his pants and adjusting his shirt to cover his still present bulge, trying to hide the evidence of what you two had been doing.

He grabs you by your hips and lifts you off his lap, setting you down beside him on the couch and casually throwing an arm across the backrest. "Relax, sweetcheeks. Just act natural, okay?”

You too, straighten out as much as possible, throwing a blanket over to him to help him cover his obvious problem right before Suguru walks through the door.

Suguru looks at the both of you suspiciously, before letting out a huff. "You haven't killed each other yet? I'm impressed.", was all he said before placing the shopping bags full of snacks on the coffee table.

Satoru chuckled at his friend's remark and gave a crooked smile. "You doubted me, really? I'm a well-behaved houseguest, remember?" On the outside he tried to act nonchalant but his mind was still on you and the unfinished business between you two. He threw a sidelong glance at you, subtly admiring your appearance and trying to fight the urge to pull you back onto his lap.

“Yeah, of course you are, Satoru.” You say sarcastically with a roll of your eyes. You were impressed with yourself at how stable your voice sounded, not giving away any evidence of the arousal still dripping down your legs. Satoru just chuckled at your sarcastic remark and returned the eye roll with a smirk. He made a mental note to tease you later about how well you were masking your desires.

You turn your attention back to your brother while looking through the grocery bags. “Did you bring my favorite? I swear to God Suguru if you forgot my strawberry lollipops again, I will…” Meanwhile Satoru watched as you started going through the grocery bags, his eyes discreetly traveling down to your legs and noticing the way you squirmed ever so slightly.

“Is it true the weirdo will stay here for the night?” You try to silently communicate with Satoru, hoping he would catch onto your subtle invite to continue where the two of you left off. He nodded subtly in your direction, immediately understanding your hidden message.

He turned back to your brother as well. "Yeah, I'll be crashing here tonight. Got a problem with that, Suguru?” Suguru just raised an eyebrow at our behavior before dismissively waving his hand and walking over to the kitchen aisle to fetch some glasses for the drinks. “When did I ever have a problem with that? And even if, you wouldn't listen anyway…”

You huff out in fake annoyance, still trying not to make your brother suspicious about your behavior. “Whatever. Just make sure to stay away from me as far as possible, Satoru.” He had to fight the urge to roll his eyes at your statement, but instead, he smirked in amusement. He had to admit, you were doing a remarkably good job at acting nonchalant.

It was kind of fun. Sneaking around all secretly with him and you decided to tease him just a bit more when you found the bags of your favorite treat. You had to see how far you could take it before the mighty Gojo Satoru would lose his mind. So you take a strawberry lollipop out of the bag, opening it up and plopping it into your mouth. Sucking and licking the sweet candy while holding eye contact with him the whole time and smiling innocently. “Hhm~ Perfect. Such a sweet tasty treat. My favorite. Thanks, Suguru.”

Satoru's smirk faltered slightly when you started sucking and licking that lollipop, the innocent look on your face driving him wild. Gripping the corner of the couch, trying to maintain his composure and feeling a pang of jealousy towards that piece of candy, wishing it was him that you were sucking and licking so eagerly. "Yeah yeah, we all know how much you love candy.”

“Says the one with a sweet tooth himself.” You say teasingly, leaning closer to him, your faces only centimeters apart and you're sure he can smell the sweet breath of strawberry candy from your mouth.

You stand up from the couch, swinging your hips ever so slightly. “I’m going to take a shower. See ya!” You stop at the staircase, looking back over your shoulder and making sure Suguru isn't watching before throwing a wink at him.

He just watched you intently as you stood up and walked towards the staircase, his eyes following your every move. He couldn't help but notice the extra sway in your hips and the way you glanced back at him with that seductive wink. His heart rate picked up and his mind started racing with thoughts of what he wanted to do to you in that shower.

He waited for you to disappear upstairs before throwing a casual "later" in Suguru's direction. Then he stood up and casually walked toward the staircase as well, his mind clearly elsewhere.

Suguru could only roll his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose before muttering a few curses under his breath. He couldn't believe the two of us were this obvious, he thought he taught Satoru better than that. Flopping himself down onto the couch, he unpacked the beer, wanting to drown out the noises he would definitely be hearing in a few minutes.

In the meantime you stood in front of your wardrobe trying to pick out a sexy but subtle outfit for you. You needed something that would leave Satoru mouth watering but not extreme enough to make your brother snap at you. Standing in front of your closet and contemplating, you almost didn't notice the bedroom door swinging open. But when you did, a smirk found its way onto your face and you let out a chuckle. “And a few moments ago you teased me for being eager. Now look at you, Mister Gojo Satoru.”

When you turned around to look at him, your smile slightly faltered. Just maybe you took it a little bit too far. He was chuckling to himself at your comment, closing the door behind him, locking it in place before stalking over to you. “Satoru, I didn't- What are you-” You couldn't even finish your sentence before he practically pounced onto you, his lips on yours in an instant. The kiss hungry and asking for more.

He groaned as he savored the taste of your lips, his hands gripping at your waist to pull you flush against him. He nibbled at your lower lip, tongue darting out to taste the sweetness from that damn lollipop. You throw your arms around his neck, your mouth parting obediently when his tongue demands entrance against your lips. You couldn't help yourself, you were so needy for his attention.

“Satoru~” You mumble out between hot kisses. “Bed. Now, please.” You whine into his mouth, desperately wanting to take this further, to continue where the two of you have left off.

He chuckled huskily against your mouth, loving the way you whined and begged for him. It was music to his ears. He picked you up, his hands firm on your thighs as he carried you over to the bed and laid you down gently onto the sheets. Looking down at you, he took in your flushed cheeks and parted lips. His hands roaming across your body, under your shirt and up to your chest. "You want me that bad, huh, sweetcheeks? So needy…”

“You're teasing again.” You whine out impatiently with your lips in a cute little pout and your hands are tucking at his shirt already, wanting it out of the way.

He only chuckled at your pouty expression, finding it irresistibly cute, leaning down and nipping at your bottom lip, he whispered huskily into your ear. "Impatient little thing, aren't you?" He straightened up and pulled his shirt off over his head, revealing his toned chest and muscular arms. "Can't keep your hands off me, huh? Well, go ahead sweetcheeks. Touch all you want.”

You would have made a snarky comment about his cocky attitude but you were completely in trance the moment his shirt was carelessly discarded onto the floor. Your eyes fixated on his bare skin, the way his muscular abs rippled with every move and the way his toned chest rose and fell with every breath. Your hands landing on the skin just above his pants and traveling up in featherlight touches, resting right against the skin where his heart was beating loudly in his chest. Looking up directly into his beautiful blue orbs and realizing he was already staring back at you. Not being able to hold back the feelings currently stirring inside of you, tears were welling up in your eyes just at the way he looked so beautiful right now.

You couldn't really describe the feeling or why you were so overwhelmed by it but in this moment you felt so safe and secure with him, like you were his, like this was how it was supposed to be. Like you were born to be with him.

He just watched silently as your eyes traveled down his shirtless torso, your touch sending shivers through his body. He could see the admiration and desire in your gaze, and it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. When your eyes meet his, he is struck by the mixture of emotions in your own. The tears beginning to form in your eyes stirred something deep inside him. He reached forward and gently brushed a stray lock of hair away from your face. "Hey, don't cry, sweetcheeks." He whispered softly, his voice filled with tenderness. "Are you okay?”

“I-I'm sorry.” You sniffle, trying to compose yourself and not make a fool out of you. “I don't know what came over me…” You start to gently push him off of you, sitting up slightly and tucking your knees under your chin. He frowned when you tried to push him away, feeling a pang of sadness at the thought of losing the intimate moment you had been sharing.

You weren't looking at him but at the space in between the two of you, calling out his name softly. “Satoru? Can I ask you a question? And please take me seriously here…” You didn't wanted to ruin the mood and you knew he didn't like getting all emotional, talking about feelings and such but you needed to talk about this before moving any further.

He could see the vulnerability in your eyes and knew that this wasn't something he could just brush off with a dismissive joke. "Of course, you can ask me anything. What's on your mind, sweetcheeks?”

“I'm yours, right? After this night, I mean? After we do…this?” You knew Satoru was a ladies man. Always fooling around and having every woman swoon over him. Up until now you have never seen him being in a serious relationship or even twice with the same girl but tonight was about your virginity and the fact that you were willing to give it up to him. “I am yours and you are mine after this, right?” You meet his eyes again, your voice shaky and lips trembling slightly as tears start to well up again. Trying to wipe them away with the back of your hand and getting frustrated at the fact you were so vulnerable in front of him. You needed him, more than you thought you ever would and you didn't know what to do if he broke your heart in two after tonight.

He could see the vulnerability and fear in your teary eyes, and it tugged at his heartstrings. He had never seen you like this before, so raw and open, but he couldn't deny that it was endearing. He gently reached out and took your trembling hand in his, holding it firmly. "Yes. After tonight, I'm yours. And you're mine." He pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you in a protective embrace. "You don't have to worry about anything, sweetcheeks. I'm not going anywhere. I'm all yours."

Sitting in his lap made you relax a bit, the sincerity of his words calming you down immensely. Your arms around his shoulders were holding him close to you and your face was buried in his neck, inhaling his scent. He just holds you close, his hands still soothingly rubbing your back as he lets you soak in the comfort of his embrace. He could feel your body trembling slightly as you nestled into his neck, and he gently pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

The whole situation reminded you of the purpose you two had landed in your bed in the first place and also makes you extremely aware about the wetness in your panties and the bulge in his pants beneath you.

The vulnerability of the confession is still lingering in the air. Love and adoration was added to the carnal desire and need for one another. “Then, then claim me.” You let out in a shaky breath, followed by your hips grinding down into his lap, just like he had shown you before. Your arms reaching up and taking off your own shirt.

When you spoke those words a low growl rumbled in his throat, his arms tightening around you. His eyes roamed over your naked torso, taking in every inch of exposed skin with hunger. "Mine" He breathed, his voice raspy with desire.

“Only yours." You echo back at him in a whisper. Your hands finding purchase on his belt buckle, opening up his pants and looking at him with a mixture of love and lust. You move off his lap and immediately notice the confusion in his eyes, making you giggle before taking off your skirt, leaving you standing in front of him in nothing but your panties.

Sitting down on your knees in front of him, looking up with big, innocent eyes. He watched you intently as you sat at his feet, his breath catching at the sight of your bare body. You looked so beautiful, so eager to please him, and he couldn't help but be captivated by you. “I need you to guide me through this, Satoru. Need you to teach me what makes you feel good, please. How to do this right…”

He reached out and gently caressed your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. "Of course, sweetcheeks. I'll guide you through everything." He shifted forward on the bed, his legs bracketing you as he looked down at you with a smile. "Come here.”

You lean your face closer into his lap. Your trembling hands tenderly reach out to take him out of his underwear. Your eyes widening slightly at his size and you had to gulp down some air, suddenly feeling very intimidated. But you need him to be proud of you and bite back your concern, willing to learn and trusting him to help you through this. With a last look into his eyes for reassurance, your tongue darts out to lick his tip gently.

The feeling of your tongue on him sent a jolt of pleasure through his body and he let out a strangled groan. He watched with a mixture of awe and need as you gently touched him, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. Resisting the urge to buck his hips forward and wanting to give you time to explore and get used to the feeling. "That's it, sweetcheeks. You're doing so good for me.”

When you taste him on your tongue for the first time, you couldn't help the moan that escaped your throat and when he groaned out at the pleasure, you feel a sense of pride. You're gaining more and more confidence and decide to take him further into you. The unfamiliar feeling makes your eyes sting with tears. You liked this. Liked his taste, his sounds, the way you could make him feel good and you kind of wish he wouldn't hold himself back anymore.

He could see the tears welling up in your eyes, and part of him wanted to stop you, to make sure you weren't pushing yourself too far. But the sight of you, so eager and willing to please him, was too much to resist. His fingers find their way into your hair, gently guiding your motions. "Relax your throat, sweetcheeks. Breathe through your nose." He said huskily, his voice filled with both desire and concern.

You hum around him, trying to follow his advice instantly. You didn't know that the vibrations would have such a strong affect on him and you feel his body shiver from pleasure above you. He lets out a guttural moan. "God, you're so good at this." He said, his fingers tightening slightly in your hair. He could feel himself getting close already after all the pent up desire from earlier, the pleasure building up quickly and he fought to control himself. He didn't want to finish too quickly and make a fool out of himself. "Sweetcheeks, you need to slow down.”

You looked up at him through teary eyes, slowing down your movement, your tongue still swirling around him, not willing to let go of his taste and the heavy feeling of him against your tongue. Your face showed confusion, wondering if you did something wrong or if you interpreted this all wrong and he didn't like what you were doing.

He groaned as you slowed down, his grip in your hair relaxing. "No, no, you're doing so good, sweetcheeks." He reassured you, his gaze on you filled with need and admiration. He knew he couldn't let himself go just yet, he wanted to make sure this was enjoyable for you too. But it was becoming harder and harder to hold back and so he took the safe route. "Pull off, sweetcheeks. Come here.”

You pull off of him with a lewd plopping sound, your lips pouting slightly and he couldn't help but chuckle, finding you irresistibly cute. He reached out and gently cupped your face in his hands, his thumb tracing over your bottom lip which was still glistening with saliva. "Don't worry, sweetcheeks. I'll take care of you. Just trust me." He said, his voice low and soothing.

He pulled you up and closer, making you straddle his lap in front of him, with one leg on either side of his hips. "Lean forward and hold onto my shoulders.”

When you follow his instructions and lean forward, you unknowingly hold your bare chest right in front of his face. He felt his breath hitch at the sight of you so close to his face. Your skin was so smooth and beautiful, untouched and innocent. Just like you. As if you were a work of art made just for him. Your tiny hands clutch onto his broad shoulders for stability and you eagerly wait for his next instructions.

“I trust you, Satoru.” Your words are softly spoken and full of love, locking eyes with his and blinking up at him. His hands find your hips, gently guiding you to straddle him more tightly. He could feel your weight on him, your body pressed flush against his. "Now, slowly lower yourself down onto me. Take your time." He whispered in your ear, his voice low and gentle.

But you don't follow, instead your brows furrow in a moment of uncertainty. “Condom…” You whisper out. “Don't we need a condom?” Satoru froze for a moment, realizing the important aspect he had unintentionally overlooked. He cursed himself inwardly for becoming so lost in the moment. He looked at you, his expression serious as he nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry, sweetcheeks. Sometimes I forget myself. I'll find one, just give me a moment."

When he made a move to stand up, intending to look around for a condom, you quickly grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “Wait! I-I think it's alright. I mean if we don't use one... I-I want to feel you. Like, all of you but I wasn't sure. I just wanted to ask in case you-” You ramble on in embarrassment, not finishing your last sentence and letting out a frustrated huff of air at your own nervousness in the moment. Looking into his eyes, hoping that he will understand what you want to say and that you are okay with not using protection for tonight.

He listens to your rushed words, his expression softening at your shyness and nervousness. The fact that you wanted to feel him, all of him, without any barriers between you, set his heart racing and his desire for you only grew stronger. He cupped your face in his hand, gently rubbing his thumb over your cheek. His eyes lock onto yours, his gaze filled with need but also tenderness. "Are you sure, sweetcheeks? You're not just saying that because you think that's what I want, right?”

“What? No! No, of course not. I'm actually on the pill so it's alright. I just wanted to make sure, because this is my first time and I don't know... I heard it can be… messy?” You were so embarrassed but couldn't stop yourself from rambling on further, probably making a real fool out of you. “But guys do like it raw, right? My friends say that guys prefer to do it without protection…?” You get more and more quiet at the end of your sentence, too embarrassed to actually speak such things out loud. “You would like it, right?”

He couldn't hold back a smirk at your rambling. You looked so cute when you were nervous and embarrassed, it only made him want to ruin you even more. He chuckled softly, gently stopping you from continuing with a soothing touch to your face. "Sweetcheeks, please breathe." He teased gently, but his eyes were filled with desire and love. "Yes, I do like it raw. I love the feeling of your body, of being as close to you as possible. And as for the mess, don't worry. I'll take care of it after.”

“Then, I don't want you to use it. Want to feel you raw.” Your eyes blink up at him, the desperate desire clearly evident. You were still seated in his lap, your hand finding purchase on his chest before sliding down to his abdomen, taking his length cautiously into your hand and pumping him slowly for a few times. “Can we continue please?”

He lets out a deep breath when you touch him, his eyes closing briefly at the sensation of your gentle hand wrapping around him. When you asked to continue, his eyes opened again, locking onto yours with unwavering intensity. He placed one hand on your hip, his grip firm and possessive. His other hand wrapped around your wrist, guiding your movements as you touched him. "Yes, we can continue. I'm all yours, sweetcheeks.”

Hearing the words falling from his lips, you take one last deep breath and decide to be brave. Taking the initiative, your lips find his own in a messy kiss. One of your hands still wrapped around him, the other coming to the back of his neck, softly grazing the strands of white hair.

You adjust your position on his lap, hovering above his length for a moment before slowly sinking down onto him. You break the kiss immediately when you feel him stretch past your tight entrance, your face scrunching up in pain and your mouth dropping open in a silent moan. The feeling was unfamiliar.

His eyes open as soon as you retreat from the intensity of the kiss, watching your face intently, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your hip as he feels your body stretch around him. He saw the pain etched onto your features, his expression softening with concern although he couldn't hide the pleasure he was feeling. "Shhh, relax, sweetcheeks. Take all the time you need. The pain will pass soon. Just breathe.”

“'s big Satoru~ Hurts…” You let out a whimper, your eyes brimming with tears when your body tried to accommodate him and to the new feeling. You really try to relax, breathe in and out, finding comfort in his touch. Still, you were barely halfway inside. All the while his concerned eyes watch your every move. He could feel the struggle you were going through, and he wanted to ease your pain in any way possible. His grip on your hip tightened slightly as he felt you clenching around him.

"I know, sweetcheeks. I know it hurts, but you're doing so well. Just focus on your breathing." He ran his hand up and down your back, trying to soothe you as he felt your body resist his intrusion. "Try to relax for me, sweetcheeks. You're taking me so well.” His words encourage you immensely and you start to relax. You bury your face in his neck, inhaling his scent and unintentionally clench around him.

When the pain lessens, you sink down all the way letting out a breath you didn't even knew you were holding and after a few more seconds your hips instinctively begin drawing light circles for friction, the pain now completely gone and replaced with the need for more.

He could feel your body adjusting to him, his breath hitching as he felt your walls spasm and clench around him. Your face buried in his neck sends shivers down his spine, and he could feel your breath on his skin. When you sink down fully, a low groan escapes him, his eyes closing at the feeling of you wrapped so tightly around him. When you begin moving your hips in those small, teasing circles, his grip on your waist tightens reflexively. "God, sweetcheeks. You feel so good.”

You kiss alongside his jaw up to his lips. His groans are muffled as soon as your lips meet his in a deep, slow and passionate kiss. “Feels so good Satoru~.” The movement of your hips getting a little bolder. “Need you to take control. Don't know what to do next. Want you to make me feel good.” You mumble between kisses.

He savors the feeling of your body against his, your sweet scent filling his senses and driving him wild with desire. He breaks the kiss, his eyes locking onto yours, his gaze dark and filled with lust. "Gladly, sweetcheeks. Lay back for me." He gently pushes you back onto the bed, following you down and settling himself between your legs.

When he's laying you down onto the bed and hovering above you, you can't help the look of admiration and love that fills your eyes, your hand instinctively reaching out to gently caress his face. You open your legs up wider to make it easier for him to move in between. You never knew you would ever think this way, seeing how annoying you usually thought Gojo Satoru was, but you trust him completely to take control and make you feel good.

He leans into your touch, his eyes closing at the feeling of your fingertips against his skin. When you open yourself up for him, his breath hitches and his eyes roam over your body, taking in every inch of your skin and committing it to memory. "You're so beautiful, sweetcheeks." He whispers, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your hip. "I'm going to make you feel so good, I promise." And with that, he's filling you up again, the stretch eliciting a moan from your lips and begins to move, his hips slowly rocking against yours.

Your hands fly up to your mouth trying to cover up the sounds, not wanting to alert your brother. If Suguru found you, his sister and his best friend in this compromising position, you two would be in huge trouble. “Fuck…” You whisper out, back arching and eyes rolling into the back of your head because of the pleasure.

Satoru can't help but chuckle softly at your attempt to quiet yourself, your efforts to hide your moans only spur him on to make you louder, to make you forget about the world outside. He leans down, his body covering yours completely, pinning you to the bed as he continues to move inside of you. His lips find their way to your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin there, leaving behind a trail of love bites. "Don't hold back, sweetcheeks. Let me hear you moan for me.”

You want to glare at him for being so irresponsible, for not caring if your brother found out or not but with how good he was making you feel, it was basically impossible. The words are dying on your tongue when another moan leaves your mouth. Your body is clenching around him hard, as if to not let go of him.

He groans at the sensation, of your body clenching around him, the feeling so good it nearly makes him lose his grip on control, that was already wearing thin. He bites down on your neck, not hard enough to mark you, but hard enough to make you gasp loudly. "God, sweetcheeks, you gotta relax a bit. Otherwise I won't be able to hold back for long."

He lifts his head from your neck, his eyes studying your face. Your expression was a mix of pleasure and desperation, and damn if it wasn't the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. “'s so deep. Please don't stop.” You were letting out the most needy and desperate sounds. Spurring him on and making him pick up his pace, the movement becomes harder and more purposeful as the two of you lose yourself in the pleasure.

He listens to your pleas, his heart racing and his breath coming in ragged gasps at the sound of your voice. The way you're reacting to him, the way you're begging for more and more is driving him insane. "Such a needy little thing." He murmurs in your ear. "So desperate for me, aren't you sweetcheeks? Wanting me to keep going, make you feel good?”

He leans back onto his heels, lifting your hips up a bit to change the angle as his pace quickens, losing himself in the moment. You try to tell him how good he's making you feel but your brain feels mushy from the pleasure and all that's coming out of your mouth are incoherent sentences and moans of his name.

Your moans and the way you're whimpering his name is driving him wild. He can barely think straight, the only thing on his mind is bringing you as much pleasure as possible. He leans down, his face buried in the crook of your neck, his pants and grunts filling your ear. "You're taking me so well, sweetcheeks. So good for me." He whispers, his voice rough and strained.

"Can you do something for me, sweetcheeks?”

“Everything. 'd do anything for you.” The words tumble out of your mouth and your head shakes yes in a frantic measure, hands grasping desperately at the sheets above your head. In this state of mind you would have done everything for him, without question, as long as he continued to make you feel this way.

He feels a thrill go through him at the sight of you completely lost in pleasure and desire, your words making his heart swell with possessive pride. He slows down his movements, grinding into you slowly and purposefully. His lips find their way to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "Reach down between us and touch yourself for me." He whispers, his voice raspy and demanding. He's leaning up again and lets his eyes rake over your body and admires every little detail about you. The way your chest moves with each thrust, the way your soft tummy shows just the slightest outline of his length moving inside of you and all the way down to where your puffy lips stretch so beautifully around him.

You travel one of your hands down his abdomen until it reaches the point where the two of you are connected. Your fingers rubbing slow circles on your sensitive clit, the pleasure increasing and you can feel yourself close to the edge.

All the while Satoru watches you intently as you move your hand down, his breath getting ragged as he feels you clenching around him as soon as you're touching yourself. Seeing you pleasure yourself like that pushes him closer to the edge, his self-control thinning. He lets out a low, guttural groan, his eyes dark and clouded with desire. "God, sweetcheeks. You look so beautiful like this.” His hips jerk forward involuntarily, causing him to accidentally hit that sensitive spot inside of you.

You let out a gasp when he hit that special spot inside, reaching your peak in overwhelming pleasure. Throwing your thighs instinctively around his hips, to pull him impossibly closer. Not wanting him to pull out for even a split second, desperately trying to hold onto the feeling of being completely and utterly full.

He groans loudly as your thighs clamp down around him, bringing his hips flush against yours as you shudder and spasm around him. He can barely hold himself together, the feeling of you clenching around him so tightly nearly overwhelming. He's pressing his forehead against yours, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he fights against the need to come undone. "Sweetcheeks… Sweetcheeks, I need to pull out." He says between ragged breaths, his voice strained with the effort to hold himself back.

“Hmm~ no. Don't want you to. Inside, please. Need to feel you inside.” Your eyes are tearing up, both from the pleasure and the thought of his body leaving yours. Your lips are trembling and your voice breaks slightly when you whine out for him, hands clutching his shoulders tightly.

He swallows hard at the sound of your breathless plea, his body shaking with the need to give in to your request. The thought of pulling out, of denying you what you want, is almost physically painful. His whole body is strained and on the edge of snapping. "Sweetcheeks, I don't know if I can-" Cutting himself off as the words get stuck in his throat. He groans, his eyes closing as he struggles against the overwhelming desire to give in to your plea.

“Satoru~” You call out his name in a whisper, one of your hands finding his jaw, to make him look into your eyes. “I'm sure. Just let go for me, please.” If your mind wouldn't have been so clouded from pleasure, you would have been impressed with how steady your voice comes out. The emotions in your eyes give him the last reassurance that he needed. That you want him.

He looks into your eyes, and he sees everything he needs to see. The trust, the desire, the love that shines in your eyes is enough to break what little restraint he has left. He can no longer deny you, no longer deny himself the pleasure of being so intimately connected with you. He lets out a shaky breath, his hands grasping your hips tightly. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his voice rough as he whispers against your skin.

"God, I love you.”

[ihopeinevergetsoberr]

cw: angry (unprotected) sex, afab reader, ungodly amount of tension, some dirty talk. you’re fucking viktor after a fight with him. that’s it. pretty much plotless — just some poetic filth written on a whim (well, i tried, at the very least). very, and i mean very poorly proofread — but i’ll fix that a bit later.

word count: 1850~

“Fuck you.”

It’s a clumsy, uncoordinated thing — hissed through gritted teeth and suffocatingly stinging exhales — a threat you spat out with the sole purpose of poisoning, of mingling gall with thick saliva and shoving it down that pretty throat, secretly aiming for the heart instead; if only he possessed such a thing, that is. 

The arrogant prick pants into the havoc of tangled tongues and bleeding bottom lips, the inviting stretch of his mouth utterly helpless against the sharpness of tortuous canines — you’ve crossed the line where a kiss turns into a bite, choking each other with liquid sounds and gawky clashes of teeth. 

He grins into the sweet heat of you, forces a wheeze out of what feels like the very depth of your lungs, and a pair of narrow hips nails a resonant snap into the pliant curve of your ass. 

“No,” he shakes that irritatingly wise head, “no, I suppose— ah,— that’s my job.”

Damp foreheads press against each other in an angry search of proximity, eager fingers gagged to crawl under his scalp, pulling at those disheveled strands with desperation — as if trying to find an entrance into Viktor’s very brain — to rearrange it in whatever way he does it to your guts and dignity. 

The handfuls of you — well, the weight of one breast and still burning under his handprint hip, to be precise — were melting. He reduced your body to a hundred sensitive pieces, demerging something whole and coherent you were presenting before he first had you in his damned bed. He dragged you in, acquaintening with exceptional filth he’s capable of producing — and you hated just how much better having his mouth on you felt than merely shutting it in ways that involve rivalry.

“Oh, save it,” you lick the metallic taste of him off the sharp angle of his chin — tongue wiping a glistening stripe in a rush to destroy the tiny evidence of your a little overly enthusiastic nibble, but Viktor — oh this utterly revengeful creature — brings a cruel palm to the smaller of your back, demanding you bend in half for him. Demanding you drown your face in the pillow as he fucks from behind; sweetly humiliating and sloppily hard — it’s the kind of sex making you arch in whatever ways you can manage. And so your spine forms just that delicious curve, slightly changing the angle of penetration — and Viktor moans a quiet curse, somehow pulled even deeper into the divine warmness of your pretty cunt, tip buried so deep inside it you might have to arch even more — to avoid the not so pleasant experience of it roughly slamming against your cervix. 

His thrusts are precise; well-aimed enough to benefit from that slight curve of his cock, had your spite for him drooling onto the sheets, each moan sweeter than the previous one. He stiffens for a split second; most likely to reposition the sore knee into a softer gap of the mattress, and you whine at the loss of him, hips wiggling backwards in a needy seek of his girth. Involuntary vulnerability — all squints, and flushed cheeks, and threatening ‘pleases’ — the embodiment of impatience. 

He laughs. He fucking laughs, letting a sly hand crawl under you, then dive in between widely parted thighs, and his fingers snake down your navel, travelling lower, preciser, filthier — just where you throb for them, just where you need assistance to collapse boneless onto the mattress. It’s a compromise, of sorts — an apology to your abandoned for a few minutes clit, and you’re shamefully thankful for it, awarding Viktor with a single, reluctant ‘yes’. 

“My, such impressive… eagerness. I almost feel flattered,” Viktor quips, but a jab earns him just a single furious glance thrown over your shoulder. “I wonder just how frustrated you’d get if I were to leave you unsatisfied.” 

You scoff. “That would be an ultimate guide for never sleeping with me again.” 

That lie is half-assed, unconvincing. Your tongue betrays you — oh that pathetic excuse of a nimble muscle; and you decide to quit relying on it for verbiage in his bed. And his desk. And his workshop. Though that part required reticence nonetheless. Both in moans and semantics. 

Viktor doesn’t comment on the treacherous stumble of your words or the pitifully quivering delivery. You’re gagging to note that he’s losing his grip, but he proves you wrong — letting two deft hands grab your waist, then sinking back into you. No, his grip is as sturdy as ever — digging into your skin, pulling closer, sliding inside with ease; cunt an embarrassingly wet mess wrapped around him tight enough to strangle. 

He’s a quick learner — even quicker now that he has to keep up with you, to chase the frantic pace you’re setting, to not get too distracted with the waves roaming all over the skin of your ass whenever it hits his pelvis, offering a delicious view of just how perfectly you swallow him to the hilt. 

“Are you threatening me, miláčku?” he’s chasing your skin like a man starved to death — desperate to lick, to touch, to devour, chest falling flat on your back — narrow, and flushed, and sweatslick, ribs digging under the space of each one of your shoulder blades. It’s a cry for proximity — a literal one, vibrating against the nape of your neck when he sharply thrusts forward, hips jerking upwards to become one with you, rapidly trembling fingers circling your clit hard enough for it to be sweetly sore in the morning. 

“Ah— Yes,” you gasp, abandoning your attempt to master a dangerous enough warning, “yes, I am threatening you.” 

“I see,” it comes out of him choked up — almost equally breathless to your pathetically rushed outburst. “Then I shall refrain from — mh,— tormenting you. I would grow quite miserable if you decided to rid me of sojourning my favorite place in the world.” 

Your fucked out brain short-circuits, clearly reduced to its most primitive state; you’re going to cum and you need to dig your fingers into something — anything, eyes roaming all over the messy bed, choosing your victim — but your options are limited either to tangled sheets or a handful of Viktor’s hair. You instantly pick the latter — just as eager to touch him, to ignore the sharp angle your arm caught when it reached for him, grabbing the back of his neck and pressing his face to yours, thick eyelashes tickling your damp temple. It’s a distorted position; all contorted limbs and pre-orgasm spasms — can’t have him pounding you from behind and licking into his mouth in the meantime; but it doesn’t stop you from at least trying. You turn your head to whatever extent possible, pulling at the havoc of dark hair, struggling to cage his tongue into the sweet lock of your lips. 

“What- What did you just say?” your tone is demanding; urgent. You’re almost halfway through your climax, and he knows it — feels it when you clench around him hard and tight, lavish slick drying between parted thighs. 

“I- I meant… you. My favourite place in the world is… inside you. And I would hate to upset you in any, ah, way—” but you don’t listen past that part. Oh no, you don’t let that man ruin you any further — which, at this point, would be beyond recognition — and your tongue attempts to crawl into his mouth again, fingers tangling a rough tug into a handful of chestnut strands. 

“Kiss me,” you plead, hot and breathless against his lips — a sloppy thing, open mouthed and trembling. “Viktor, please, kiss me.” 

The last syllable rolls off your tongue straight into his throat — Viktor is at your whim even before you managed to form that request, suckling swells into your bottom lip with an occasional whimper — shy and gentle, just so utterly him — arousingly subtle, flavourful, nimble. Heavy on the nimble part, since the mere presence of him in your mouth helped you capture your undoing — beautifully clumsy; wet hot pleasure running down shaky legs — a mess of arching hips, pretty foreign swears and swollen under the thorough touch of his fingers clit. He broke you like he was made for it, vowing to never stop, to never let that weary wrist pressed above your clit rest — you’ve deemed him worthy of being the one whose cock you cum around, and Viktor — so intelligent, incorrigible, yours — would never waste such a privilege. 

He does, however, regret his greediness when his own orgasm impatiently reminds him of its approach. It had him moaning your name almost deep enough to sound devastated — and that he was, in a way, uttering one last hissy curse into that bruising kiss before abruptly pulling out, frantic fingers rushing to be wrapped around his width. Your vision — blurry, incompetent and drunk on bliss — still allowed you a pretty view of him pumping that throbbing cock, its heaviness palpable on your lower back even in this state of divine afterglow. 

He came to the sight of you — still bent over, half-lidded, ruined. Painted your skin in his release yet still stared at you in the most beautiful awe ever, amber eyes radiating complete devotion — so sweet and picturesque, cheeks the softest shade of pink as he cried, cumming on your pretty back — a pair of hot tears rolling down his face as you let him pour himself on your very body.

Rushed, unexpected climaxes — one might even assume they probably lacked in gentleness. And perhaps they would have — if only it wasn’t Viktor you’re fucking tonight; hands just as tender as they’re exhaustive. He collapses beside you — still careful, invariably contemplative, gaze needled into your face looking for any signs of remaining anger; touch explorative, approbatory. Lazily slipping underneath you and pulling closer, inviting into a loose knot of limbs — and you allow it, letting your hand wander to languidly count his ribs, then stopping to deliver an occasional tickle. 

He hums and tucks you under his chin. Probably hinting at a truce. A temporary one, at least. 

“I’m still mad at you though,” you decide to inform him, letting a curious index finger press into his dark nipple — earning yourself a quick yawn and a crooked little smile. 

“Hm, are you really?” he insists — the ever attentive devil, always catching that particular tremble of your words. He did a great job in fucking you stupid and now demanded you admit it: the fight is over, you’re appeased and completely witless. 

But you don’t budge. Not this time. You’re not any less vengeful and always so persistent on dragging the cheekiness out of him — either with fighting or with fucking. Both were equally entertaining nonetheless. 

“Yes. Really,” you finally reply, submitting to the chain reaction and yawning back, rubbing the watering eyes with a free from pinching at Viktor’s chest hand. 

“Hm, how inconvenient. In that case, I must’ve failed as a lover.”

“How so?”

“Well, my only intentions were to leave you senseless enough to forget about the incident. And, well, since you’re still perfectly capable of being spiteful—“ 

“How about you shut up before I smother you in your sleep?” 

[plutonianeris]

pick a pile: how does this new love feel like a fairytale? ⛓️💗

this is a general reading so take what resonates and leave what doesn't. Interpret & choose based on your inner guidance and gut feeling. messages can be either from you, them or both🍒

𓆩♱𓆪Pile one

right off the bat this is someone whose been eyeing you for a while. they could be the type that stare in awe at the pictures you post on social media “so pretty” or when they met you that have that immediate attraction.. “who is that?” lol them asking their friends when you walk in. this honestly feels like a fairytale because theyve been wanting you for a while but theyve been super patient i heard “no hard feelings” theyre actually so sweet (im getting water sign suns: cancer, pisces, scorpio energy oop 🙈).

like they have no problem admiring you from afar at alllll. they are mesmerized by you. and honestly they could have been a little toxic before meeting you (not abusive, but someone unable to share their emotions in a healthy way). it seems like they dont want u to see them in the shades and shadows of their trauma, wounds, healing. for them you are the light at the end of that tunnel. i heard “my day was pretty shitty until you showed up” they are willing to work hard for you. they are also very attractive & in an unconventional way (unique hair, being really tall, tattoos, something like that makes them stand out especially in their friend group).

💌letter from their pov;

I know you dont need me. you dont really look like the type to depend on anyone. I can see it in the way you eye people, especially men, with suspicion. you question my motives and thats fair. when youre that beautiful and charming, theres bound to be people that just want to use you. that are dying to be in you energy just to get the chance to say they were in your presence. i dont wanna be like that. i dont wanna be another read message in your phone. i dont wanna be another face that disappears in the crowd for you. and i know you feel that way too. that the worst thing for you isnt to be talked about. its to be ignored. its to be underestimated. trust me when i say since the moment i laid eyes on you, i never once doubted you. i know you are capable of bringing men to their knees with your eyes. i know that your laugh makes my pulse speed up. i know that you make me feel special. and sometimes i get jealous, wondering if you make other people feel that way too. I want to give you the whole world if you just let me.

𓆩♱𓆪Pile two

this new love feels like a fairytale because this happened in the moment when you’re least expecting it and also after you’re recovering from something. Whether it be a relationship break up with a partner or you just changing things in your life, like moving to a different neighborhood or no longer believing in certain things that were very important in your belief systems in the past. this is like a prince or princess, waiting to rescue you. At first, though it seems like you’re suspicious of this energy. You could find that they are way too good with their words. “too good to be true” “I bet you say that to all the girls/guys” energy. but honestly, it seems like you’re the only one that can keep up with them. You don’t give into them like other people do, and they constantly want to impress you by telling you random facts or teaching you about some thing they learned abroad or when traveling.

I am getting a sense that they are very flirty, but with other people it never goes past that it’s just something they do in the moment or theyre just really playful. But even as they’re talking to someone else, their eyes can’t seem to leave you even if you’re across the room. You like your routine and consistency so changing things about your own life is hard, much less accepting other people in. So when they flirt with you, you might not immediately flirt back. you might roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile when they turn away. you could be someone with earth placements, especially capricorn or virgo. They give off a lot of mischievous energy. This other person could have a gemini placement, third house placements or ninth house placements (if ur into astro).

💌letter from their pov;

Relationships have never really been a priority for me. I mean, cmon I'm young. Isn't it the whole point to experience as much as I can? I know other people have things to say about me.. maybe I lead some people on. Maybe sometimes you feel that way too. But I promise it's not really like that. Well, with you, it isn't. I'm just inexperienced. And I guess that doesn't really stop me from flirting so much and being so cocky…But the truth is I crave your attention badly. You look like you really know what you want in life. And for me, that's all I ever wanted. Because when you know what you want, you get it. and thats when you really start living. After that, even our mistakes are our own and beautiful and intimate in their own way. I see the weariness in your eyes when you look at me. I know you're wondering if I am even worth your time. I promise I am. I promise I can be. And if I'm not, then you can just never speak to me right then and there, I swear. But I know there's more than weariness in your gaze as well. I know you are just as curious about me as I am about you.

𓆩♱𓆪Pile three

This love feels like a dark romance. This pile is not as lighthearted as the previous two at all. It feels like a fairytale in that "magical" sense though because it will feel like love at first sight. You both will feel immediately physically attracted to the other but what makes it even more intense is that at first no one seems to be able to make the first move. It might seem too good to be true to the point where you don't even wanna disturb the "illusion." You dont wanna burst the bubble. Also, the magnetic attraction you feel/ that slow burn makes it even more desirable for both of you. In synastry, you both might have a lot of conjunctions (especially with pluto, moon, and mars). I also pulled north node synastry as well (and this synastry makes it feel like you're meant to be aka its destiny. but its also uncomfortable). "I have never felt like this before" energy.

Honestly, I see this pile as being able to go both ways and it can easily make you feel heartbroken. You might have venus-pluto placements yourself or 8th house placements or they do. When you are together though, you both hate when other people interrupt. You love your alone time. It feels really good. This pile is all about intense eye contact, glancing down at each others lips, meeting in secret, getting jealous when other people try to talk to the other, hands brushing as you walk but never fully touching. But then devouring each other when alone (if you both end up trusting each other when to get there because, again, one of you or both are hesitating). If you open your heart and learn to trust and communicate in a healthy manner, it could be a life changing connection.

💌letter from their pov;

It feels wrong to fantasize about you the way I do. But I can't really help it. I think about the way your back would feel arched under my palm. your lips on mine, tongues meeting, teeth clashing. I look at your hands and imagine them gripping the sheets at the same time I grip your thighs. It feels wrong that these are things that have crossed my mind since I first met you. sometimes I try to lie to myself. Tell myself that maybe im not really that into you. but its such bullshit. even then, theres the what if. what if. what if. it looks like every odds are against us. we are complete opposites. it might never work. but im willing to take that risk. im willing to bet on us. even if it falls apart. but judging from the way you freeze up when we make eye contact I know its far beyond that. I know you felt it too. the day we met, how you paused. i know that we would love hard. and fall harder. and if it doesnt work out, it would be devastating. and yet, i would still decide to do it all over again. and you would too. life is too short. I dont want us to be a what-if.

[1moreff-creator]

DRDT Chapter 2 Episode 13: First Impressions

Woo! DRDT! It is time! Time for despair! Let’s go! My excitement has not faded in the slightest from last week; if anything, it’s stronger than before. Here are my first impressions of this week’s episode!!!

Spoilers for CH2 EP13

CW Suicide, violent murder, mafia mention, suicide, hanging, self-harm.

It’s starting! Levi’s got some explaining to do. Will someone (say, Eden) have an interesting reaction?

Alright, J’s not the one I expected to have first reaction, but cool.

“You…” Is Ace okay? 

“Ah. I didn’t expect that.” Rose’s legendary reaction.

YOU CANNOT “THAT’S WACK” THIS SITUATION WHIT

Oh, so people know, but the court struck it. Interesting.

Ah, there’s the Ace reaction. Also, “no way Hope’s Peak scouted a murderer” but you have a poisoner on another secret and an art forger, at least. Not the same level maybe, but still. 

“Don’t make the mistake of switching cause and effect.” Of course Hope’s Peak is responsible, that was my first gut instinct. God, it’s so shady in this universe.

Woo, Levi backstory! Three “old enemies?”

… Bro??? I don’t think any of us actually expected more than one murder, but I might be wrong on that. Self-defense, then two first degrees, huh?

“Were you in the mafia or something?” Thanks J.

“I don’t think I need to elaborate” No, you do. You really should elaborate. Please? For me?

“Who did you even kill?” And… Levi!Accomplice is looking rougher by the second. Then again, maybe she didn’t know.

Levi tracked two of them down, but doesn’t know who they were? How?

“That car I blew up once?” HUH???

“That’s… kind of a lot to admit all of the sudden.” True, Rose. I’m trying to see what he’s cooking, but I can’t tell.

How do you forget this? Jeez.

“How could you forget?” You know, Arturo, I was kinda irrationally worried Charles was about to throw in his secret phrase, but it’s cool that you avoided that. Thanks.

[For the uninformed; it’s theorized the characters will, at some point in the series, say the quotes hidden in the source code of their dedicated pages out loud, since Min and Arei both said theirs, and Xander’s could be in a flashback. That means that if a character says their secret quotes, their chances of dying go up drastically.]

“If you don’t care about murder, you could be the murderer.” (Paraphrased) Yes thanks Veronika not the point. 

“Almost as if you don’t care…” Great. I didn’t know where Levi was going with this, now I don’t know where Veronika is going with her schtick.

I’m surprised Ace is taking it relatively well [as in, not outwardly terrified]. I guess near death does that to someone.

Woo! Time frame! Junior high school! 

Interesting, so he didn’t start fashion because of the murder. That’s kinda what I was thinking, but I was wrong.

We’re getting our first crumbs of Hope’s Peak being ultra shady in main series! After Rose’s backstory ig. Unfortunately the “pretentious revolutionaries” aren’t here to “hand out tickets of lead” ← LGI brainrot

“It could also refer to the time I murdered my father.”

… 

???????????????????????????

You didn’t lead with that?! Also, what?! I laughed out loud at the fucking absurdity of the statement, but what?!

“It’s a bit of a bother.” The bothersome part is that they’re phrased vaguely and not that they reveal you’re a murderer, got it.

“Go back!” Thank you J.

What do you mean I think. Bro how many people have you killed? What in the name of Kirisaki Shidou [/ref]?

“Not even the police cared about a man like him.” ??? Also, wasn’t your dad a bad influence? You’ve mentioned him before, it didn’t sound that bad- Wait, is he lying? No way he’s lying. Hold on, let me watch more.

[In retrospect, I doubt he’s lying, but his story is certainly weird]

“I see no reason to remain hung up-” Then why are you bringing it up. I still can’t fucking tell what you’re trying to accomplish here.

Eden’s reaction is… neutral, I guess? Makes sense either way?

Eden!Culprit has always been hard to maintain during the trial, huh… Still took the tape though. And I guess it’s potentially interesting she’s getting this much dialogue about Levi’s thing. Teruko’s yet to speak this episode.

“I wonder if I should really tell the truth…” Bro what do you mean there’s more truth to tell?

Oh, hey, speaking of Teruko. And it seems she and I share a mind.

“I don’t care about people at all.” Ooooh, I like this. Some kind of condition?

I feel a little bit like Veronika, interested in hearing his experience with this. Feeling like Veronika is probably a bad thing.

“You’re still a stranger to me.” Levi’s quickly climbing the ranks of fave characters, btw. This is super interesting.

“But you’re a good person-” DO NOT “good person” right now, Eden! That’s a point to Levi!Accomplice, maybe? Maybe not? I don’t know what’s happening. And I still don’t get what Levi is trying to do here.

Double “good person?” Bro what is happening.

“I don’t personally care what happens to Ace.” Mood (that’s a joke I like Ace).

PFT- Ace’s reaction lol.

“But it is “good” to make sure someone else doesn’t die-” Goodbye Levi!Accomplice! I liked you, but I’m probably gonna go try to find other theories after this episode :p (This is a joke, btw; if I didn’t discount theories like Hu!Culprit when the new alibis came up, I’m not going to completely abandon Levi!Accomplice over this. But, just saying, there might be a few revisions to be made)

“Haha. You…” Ace breakdown! Breakdown! (I'm absolutely acting like Veronika now).

“I was right all along.” Yeah, Ace ‘can tell a hawk from a handsaw’ Markey, nice one. (Does anyone even know/remember why I’m referencing that line or is LGI too far in the past for that?)

New Ace sprite! Cool one too. Clutching his heart, Acevi shippers eating ig. 

“Good thing I didn’t fall for it. Not one bit.” Oh they’re eating GOOD good!

“There’s only one person in my whole life who I’ve ever been able to call my friend-” IS THAT A FUCKING TAYLOR REFERENCE?!?!?! Holy shit, I don’t know how many people are even gonna remember we have a canon name for that dude. I hope someone still has the screenshot of the deleted answer from the CH2 Part 1 Q&A. 

“I really hope you fucking die.” We are active in Trial 2 Part 2, huh? Between Arturo telling him to “shut his whore mouth” and this, Levi’s getting verbally jumped!

“You’re quite the interesting person, Levi” Please Veronika, give me the psychoanalysis.

Dude, that’s three “good person” drops all on Levi. Chat the importance of this phrase may have been slightly overexaggerated by me (then again, the list of “good person” people has yet to grow from last chapter).

“You act like a big pushover because-” This is the psychoanalysis I came to see!

I don’t know if I’d call it “intuitive understanding” but I guess Levi’s not fully wrong about Veronika.

Four “good person.” And that’s not counting Veronika’s “good people.”

Five. Also, this continues to be interesting. Why did Levi bring this up again?

“After looking at David, I thought being honest-” Okay that’s hilarious.

“Try looking in a mirror…” First David line of the episode, right? And it’s a nice one of course.

That’s six cases of “good person” in this chapter alone holy shit. At least it’s David, who still had counts.

“I apologize for this tangent” Then can you please explain why the tangent exists in the first place? Or is it really just because being honest is "good"?

[Spoilers. It really was because of that. What]

“I can’t believe there was a time I liked you.” Yeah Acevi is still eating good. I doubt the hostility is gonna drive the shippers away; that’s what they’re here for, right?

And of course Whit’s first line makes him look suspicious. Bro you have an alibi for the time of disappearance of fish and you didn’t take the tape from the gym, stop pretending to be the killer.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions.” Thank you Hu, but let me jump to a conclusion. Is Levi not gonna explain why he revealed his secret beyond the honesty thing?

Okay J’s response is good too.

“No, [Arei] didn’t [talk to Levi about the secret]” Bro what the fuck are we even talking about anymore.

“I don’t have a defense” (Paraphrased) No but seriously what. I’m this close to ripping out my hair. What is he doing.

“We don’t have evidence [Levi is the murderer]” Thank you Teruko Tawaki for being one of three competent people in the building. This is affectionate, one of my favorite parts of the DRDT cast is that they all suck at class trials lol :p

Bro Whit is trying REALLY HARD to look like the murderer rn. I’m still not letting him convince me. Yet.

“I realized that motives alone are not concrete evidence.” Yayyyy! Progress!

“I feel a sneeze coming on…” Dude David and Teruko need to get into comedy, they’re fucking hilarious.

“One second please.” Hu I trusted you. Why. You’re revealing your secret, right?

“...I didn’t want you all to think less of me.” Aww, poor Hu. No one’s gonna think less of you, you’re doing awesome (I am assuming she has hopeless child btw).

“I wanted to believe the past never happened” Butterfly motif and “water as rebirth” symbolism go brrr. 

“I’ve always been a selfish person, haven’t I?” Hu please, you’re really nice, even if you go overboard at times.

“I will share my secret if you promise to immediately move on.” (Paraphrased) Good idea. It would probably be good to talk about it if she wants, but this is kinda not the time.

“I have Veronika’s secret, and she has mine.” Okay I did NOT expect her to reveal she had Veronika’s, but alright! That’s two more on the board, and two more most of us got right! At least the theorists are doing well on the secrets.

[Veronika agreeing to the pact] Bro what pact, how did you communicate that? Also, “I have such little interest in both of our secrets” is wild, but it makes sense given her personality. Recap foils go brr, I’ll sit down and think about this later.

“My own so-called secret isn’t even the worst thing I’ve done.” Uh…??? It’s just bombshell after bombshell, these episodes!

Oh, we are questioning the pact. I kinda thought they’d managed to do that in the trial, now I’m really curious. Please tell me we aren’t gonna have to ignore that question because of what Hu asked of them.

Shit.

“We’re not gonna talk about me?” Oh, Vero, I would love for them to talk about you, but I don’t think it’s gonna happen.

“Arei– Achoo!” WHEN I TELL YOU I CACKLED LIKE A MADPERSON HOLY SHIT

“Bless me! Also, excuse me! Wow, thank you for your support everyone!” WAIT IT GOT FUNNIER.

“I have another interruption–” Either it just got even funnier or he’s about to reveal Teruko’s secret and shit got serious, let’s see.

Oh, right. But, dude, I’m relatively sure the last two unclaimed secrets can’t be hers. Maybe the survivor’s guilt one, even though that felt like Xander’s? Are you absolutely certain you don’t have her secret?

“My family.” Figured she’d try that one. [She probably feels it's true to some extent].

Oh, now THAT’S a David sprite alright. Pretty sure that settles it, the most common theories for secrets during hiatus were all correct.

I’m guessing David’s still not gonna reveal it. We still need to see a Teruko teacher CG, and I don’t think we’re gonna have time for that if he brings it up.

“We did it!” Yeah he ain’t revealing shit. 

“Sir Light Pollution” is actually crazy. Do his eyes really emit light like a flashlight? That’d be really fucking funny actually.

Oh, it was actually funny because Whit is a boyfailure. Alright, joke understood. I smiled.

“I am truly impressed… by how bad that was.” And there I laughed!

“I’ve started to detect this trial isn’t about me.” Iconic of you, Sir Attention Whore /affectionate

Thank you J.

Eden bro can we please let Teruko speak. Also you are not helping the culprit allegations miss Tobisa.

“What happened between you and Arei?” Jesus, we really cannot get to the fucking murder, huh? Fair, though, I’m really curious about this too, though I feel we’re gonna skip past it without an answer or David’s just not gonna respond seriously.

“I know that she’s dead and that she’s never coming back.” We’re getting worryingly close to your secret quote wording here, Eden. You sure you wanna go this route?

What are we, on seven “good person”s now?

Oh shit are we actually getting an answer?

YES! YES! YES! LET’S GO! I wasn’t expecting this!

Eight. Though I think this one’s repeated, though I might be wrong.

Yeah, this is old dialogue.

Man, Arei’s and Eden’s VAs did amazing work this episode!

“That makes me feel really relieved.” Lie. She didn’t say that. That’s my gut reaction, anyways, I could be wrong.

“I was pissed at you for a bit.” Oh shit chat David’s not getting cut off. This might actually be true. What the fuck?

Oh, also. Nine. David again.

“There’s not even anything positive…” Okay this hurts a fucking ton. If David’s lying, I want him dead. If this is true, holy shit this is sad.

“A metamorphosis like that…” Jeez this is actually getting sad sad. Auch.

“I’ll never be a good person.” Ten, and the tenth hurts a LOT. I don’t think David’s lying, members of the jury. Holy shit this is sad. 

“It turns out that you might be a total piece of shit…” Holy shit I miss Arei already.

Eleven.

“Like Santa Claus…” Didn’t Charles bring up something like that talking with Teruko in the computer room? Interesting connection. I guess not “all that glitters,” yeah.

“It’s okay that I’ll never be a good person, because no one else can be either.” Okay, first; twelve. Second, ouch.

[I know my commentary's not exactly thrilling. Forgive me, I'm suffering]

“Even Eden.” And what does that mean?

[Eden with blood on her hands CG]

…

HUH????????????????????????????????????????

I can’t- Words- Not working. Hold on, I gotta see what the fuck is happening here.

[Pan to fork]

I’M EVEN MORE CONFUSED THAN BEFORE! WHAT THE FUCK?!

It has four prongs, which matches the Xander one. Did Eden take out Xander’s eye? How in the actual fuck? No chance, right? I’m just going insane?

“I’m sure even Eden has hurt someone” (Paraphrased). Brain is still not working. Sorry.

“Even someone like her must have made a mistake she couldn’t take back” WE ARE GETTING DANGEROUSLY CLOSE TO SECRET QUOTE WORDING!

We’re just moving on? That shit didn’t happen? I’m fucking sorry?

I can’t even- Does this imply fucking MM!Eden? I don’t think so, she doesn’t look like she wanted to- WAS it Xander she stabbed? Again, how? What? I’m so confused. YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO US DEV! I NEED ANSWERS!!!

“Second ever friend…” Ouch ouch ouch-

Another “good people” btw.

[Arei CG] That’s the fucking- THAT LOOKS LIKE THE FUCKING GIRL FROM LGI?!?!?!

Like, obviously they look different, but that’s the same pose, with the hand and everything- WHAT?!

Is Arei/David a ship? It’ll probably be one after this. 

“Nothing-” You absolute piece of shit. Holy shit David, when I get my hands on you David…

“Nothing else happened between us, I promise.” Wow. Who would’ve thunk this is how I come to fucking despise a man so much while he simultaneously rises in my fave characters ranking, huh? Holy hell.

“One hundred percent promise-” I get more mad every line. That’s good character writing, folks. Jesus.

I can’t read Eden this episode. Still think she’s the culprit lol.

“Finally.” Yeah, Teruko. Same.

[By the way, the next section has a lot of me rambling about my own theories, so if you don't know them, here's a link to the latest, now likely outdated version]

“From that low of height…” I like where we’re going.

“I’m starting to realize how long it's taken to get here.” (Paraphrased) Yeah, Whit. Yeah.

“Some people had to wait one year and five months-” PFFFT- Also Whit’s reaction means he’s not fully fourth wall aware, which is cool.

NON-STOP DEBATE! LET’S DO IT! 

[Sees truth bullet] Yes! The jugs were used as weights! Tell me I’m right about this!

YEAH! I GOT IT RIGHT! Also Veronika’s “consent” animation is… uuh… very ‘Ronika if you catch my drift. I love it!

“Those jugs ended up breaking…” You know it! I wonder if maybe they didn’t have time to clean the fish? But they could have gotten water literally elsewhere, so they clearly did use them for alibi.

“The jugs alone aren’t enough…” (Paraphrased). Yeah, we gotta go higher. Like, the girders at the top…?

“... rafters on the ceiling.” Yeah!!! Wrong name but I also got this right!

“It must have been one long rope…” Or two, because you need the stopper.

“Oh, wait, you’re agreeing with me. Yes.” Funny, laughed.

“The rafters were way too high…” Ball of clothes, come on.

“...something like a pulley…” Yeah, Whit knows what I’m talking about! The fact he’s being helpful makes him less suspicious. Finally, he managed to open his mouth without incriminating himself of something!

“High location…” Are we actually doing stopper rope? My guess is that that’s when we’ll get teacher Teruko.

“In drop hanging…” Okay, first, love the monologue. Second, is there a reason you know so much about drop hanging? Did your mother…? I guess it’s not necessary. I also came to the same conclusions and I don’t have any history with the stuff. 

“We also know she didn’t hit the ground-” Does anyone have a counter of tasteless Whit jokes? Just checking.

“Aren’t I so smart…” And we’re back to kinda incriminating ourselves, because you're denying pulley method. Fantastic.

WOO! ANOTHER NON-STOP! Let me guess, “spinny thing” is the truth bullet?

“Tape on carousel.” Close enough. Although, hold on, are we actually gonna go “stopped with hands?” No chance, right?

Also am I stupid or does Arturo’s VA sound different in the debates?

Yeah btw Levi!Accomplice is dead and buried, I need to find other ways for Eden to have done this.

I like that Teruko still calls it a spinny thing :p

Wow, everyone’s correcting her, huh? I guess I’m the only one that appreciates her smh.

“...when I need to correct the killer’s grammar.” Funny comeback, but you know, the letter does actually have quite a few spelling errors.

Yay! Teacher Teruko! She looks so cute with glasses!

Also I cannot believe it. These Microsoft-Paint ass diagrams remind me of when I did them too lol.

Oh, shit, under the seesaw! That’s a good one, Teruko! I didn’t catch that. (Then again, I always thought the seesaw was in a different place, but oh well).

Is that dog ears Whit? My guy, you know Charles dislikes dogs, right? Then again, you do canonically have negative rizz, so :p

Oh, tying the rope! Not quite a stopper rope, but same concept. Yeah, would work. Good one Teruko!

“The carousel is made of smooth metal.” THAT’S WHAT THE TAPE WAS FOR! Clutch.

Oh shit, is the cliffhanger going to be the tape’s origin?

“I’ve seen this murder method before.” Okay, wait. One, no origin of tape. That’s big for Eden!Culprit: My current guess is that someone (ie Veronika) will want to discuss the Ace-Nico thing, which will lead to them discovering Eden took the tape. Two, what the fuck do you mean you’ve seen this before?!

“You have?” Looking kinda worried there, Eden…

“And so have you.” Okay am I forgetting something? Min’s execution wasn’t like this, what the hell…

“Me?” Eden, honey, the allegations…

“We’re going to talk about a different case…” Oh shit Teruko’s got the Ace method figured out? I would really love to hear that because I have no idea what the hell was happening with that one. Also, I called it! Didn’t expect it to be Teruko who brought us back to the Ace case, but still. 

“Explain yourself, Nico.” YEAH!!!! I’m actually really excited. I’m gonna look into revising my theory on that case before the next episode, see if I can figure it out, since I think the old methods I’ve discussed with others don’t quite line up with what Teru’s describing. 

What an episode!

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General Thoughts:

Holy shit. Just. So much happened. It’s too much peak.

The Eden CG is the first thing on my mind; that’s crazy. Did she really take out Xander’s eye? I have zero idea what else I would be looking at. Certainly not MM!Eden, too obvious, but I don’t know what’s happening there. No fucking idea. I might make a more detailed post when I get my thoughts in order, but all I’m saying; the possibility the girl she kissed was Mai? That Mai told her about Teruko, and Eden attacked Xander in the pre-prologue killing game to protect Teruko? Hmm…

The secrets are huge, too. Nothing wild, given like 75% of the fandom had assumed these secrets anyways, but still nice to get them all. The Levi explanation was fascinating, but I don’t know what the fuck it has to do with the trial. Was it really a pointless aside? I don’t know…

The Arei scene was fucking insane even outside the Eden CG. Stabbed through the heart, haven’t felt that sad since Min’s death, and, yeah…

Not to mention, the fucking “Ideal Country Woman from LGI” looking ass frame. At least I finally got my answer; it was a wrist bend, not a glove. 

And David. David. Why are you like this. I genuinely can’t tell why he does anything anymore.

Finally, I love the Taylor mention, that’s insane. And Veronika has a darker secret? She really wants those MM allegations, huh? Jokes aside, I’m really curious about both those things. I kinda wonder if somehow the students will see the motive videos from Trial 1, since we’re hearing about Taylor and I’m hoping Alyssa later.

Just… Holy shit this episode was awesome. Cannot wait for next week.

First Impression Murder Theory Updates

It’s looking like Levi!Accomplice will end up being a nice AU and nothing more, although I’m not 100% ruling it out. That said, I’m still pretty confident in Eden!Culprit, especially with how we mentioned the tape on the spinny thing was easy to grip, but no one’s made the connection to the gym yet. 

The big thing to solve in the Arei case, then, is how Eden got the fish. There’s a few other accomplices she could have, but those are looking rough unless she somehow got Arei to do it. That said, I’m considering the possibility that she took the minnows ultra early, before Nico started feeding them. That would explain how they didn’t notice there were a few missing the night before; they just never counted the ones in the jugs in the first place. That has issues too, but I’ll see about it. 

That said, I’m pretty happy with myself! I got a lot of the major points of the pulley system right. The only thing is the “stopper rope vs tie a knot” thing, but the principle is similar enough. We’ll see about things like the ball of clothes to put the rope over the rafters. There’s still plenty of murder to discuss. 

As for the Ace case… It’ll need a full review later. If it’s supposed to be similar to Arei’s case, I really have no clue what the hell was happening there. Though I guess the ridiculous wire circuit I made might actually have some merit, given we're doing some kind of pulley?

... Maybe not :p

I have no further insight; I just need to look at it again.

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Anyways, hope you enjoyed! Watching this episode took me like two hours and a half while writing this… this almost 4k word post… so… yeah. Gods save me if there actually is an hour long episode left. See ya’!