#i tap on posts but nothing happens

[bunnihearted]

my app isnt working properly and it's making me unreasonably angry. akin to road rage 💀

[linzerj]

Did they get rid of the ability to double-tap on a post to like it on mobile???

[keeps-ache]

well! that project's out of my brain now :) now what

[cubedmango]

only on tumblr dot com will u get incredible ads such as ... the empty void???

[tracfone]

Can anyone else not zoom in on images on mobile Tumblr anymore....

[ars-matron]

I really need to talk for a minute about this new mobile update and how much I as a legally blind person hate whatever the hell is going on with the photos and how it's making this app nearly impossible for me to use

I'm not sure the same thing is happening on the desktop version but for those who may not know in the app whenever you tap on a photo it used to just pop up and you could double tap to enlarge it and zoom in and scroll around and all was great.

A double tap now likes the photo and it must be pinched and pulled to zoom in and out. A mild annoyance, and nothing compared to the rest of the update. If you scroll up, which I do frequently when trying to navigate an enlarged photo, it will send you to ANOTHER photo based on the tags of the post.

That's right, a completely different photo!!! A feature no one asked for and no one wants!! This isn't facebook, or instagram, and maybe tiktok but I never had that so this is a guess. When I click on the photo I only want to see that photo (or in the case of multiple photos in a post I want to be able to easily scroll side to side for those). I do not want to be taken to another post!!! Also if you scroll too far to the left you are then sent to the profile of the person who reblogged the post. I do not know why. Who wants this feature? Is it a feature at all?

As someone who only taps on a photo because I cannot see it and I need to enlarge it, this is beyond a simple annoyance. I cannot navigate the photo like I need, there's a hair trigger on whether it sends you to a new post completely or if you are sent to the profile of the reblogger. Neither, again, are things I want. this leaves me having to back track a lot, re-zoom the photo as it reverts back to normal, and hope dearly that this time I can just read the damned text before it freaks out again.

I haven't seen anyone else talk about this outside of the tags, but really this is making the app unusable for me, and I'm sure for many others.

@staff I know you guys haven't cared about your disabled community much in the past (other photo updates that stopped allowing me to zoom into gifs is proof of that) but please don't make this app unusable for me. I would rather not have to leave.

[verstappenverse]

Revved Up

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Max grows jealous after your Instagram post attracts unwanted attention, including from an ex.

Authors Note: Do I actually believe Max posts on his own instagram these days... let alone would post with a 'scandalous' caption...no? but this is fiction so it's all good 😂

1.4k words / Masterlist

Max was sitting on the plush leather couch in your shared Monaco apartment, flipping through TV channels with all the enthusiasm of a man waiting for a commercial break. He glanced at the large floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the stunning Mediterranean view, but even that wasn’t enough to distract him. It wasn’t the usual race strategy or upcoming practice sessions that had him restless—it was something far more personal.

You.

More specifically the photo you had posted on Instagram earlier that day, a simple mirror selfie, a little scandalous but nothing crazy. You looked radiant, sure, but that was normal for you. You were always beautiful to him. What had caught his eye was the flood of comments, the notifications popping up every few seconds as he scrolled through your post.

As he scrolled eyes narrowing as the likes kept ticking upwards. Then he saw it.

Your ex.

The guy who clearly hadn’t gotten the memo that you were Max Verstappen’s girlfriend, because clearly he didn't see an issue with leaving a flirty comment that set Max’s nerves on edge.

'Looking gorgeous as always' it read, with an obnoxious little winking emoji at the end.

Max’s fingers tightened around the remote as the thought of some guy—especially your ex—thinking he had any right to compliment you in that way made his blood boil. You were his. The world knew it, but apparently some people needed reminding.

He didn’t say anything when you had walked into the living room earlier, cheerfully oblivious to his growing annoyance. Instead he had kept quiet, but now it was simmering just under the surface. Jealousy wasn’t a feeling Max was used to; on the track he was calm, confident, but when it came to you, his cool, collected exterior faltered. Especially when some idiot tried to act like he still had a chance.

You entered the room now wearing a loose sweatshirt and leggings, a casual look that contrasted with the glamorous image you had posted earlier. Max glanced at you his jaw tightening, you could sense something was off.

“Max, is everything okay?” you asked, tilting your head as you grabbed your phone from the counter. You didn’t even have to unlock it before he spoke.

“That picture,” he said abruptly, his Dutch accent thicker than usual, which tend to only happened when his emotions were running high. His fingers tapped on the arm of the couch in an impatient rhythm.

You furrowed your brow. “What about it?”

He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and you could see the tension in his posture. “Your ex commented on it.”

“Oh,” you said, blinking in surprise. You hadn’t noticed.“I didn’t even see that.”

Max didn’t like the idea of you looking at that idiot’s comment again, but you opened the app and scrolled down anyway finding the offending message almost immediately.

You rolled your eyes and let out a light laugh. “Seriously? He’s such a loser. I haven’t talked to him in forever.”

Max didn’t seem to find it as amusing as you did. His frown deepened. “Yeah, well, he still thinks he can leave comments like that. Like I’m not here.”

You couldn’t help but smirk at his grumpy tone. “What, are you jealous?”

His reaction was immediate. “Jealous? Me? No...” He paused. “I mean... you know how many people liked that picture?”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by how serious he looked. “Max, it’s just Instagram I think the point is to like pictures," you laughed but his expression didn't change ,"Max come on it’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly, though he still sounded more irritated than actually angry. “Everyone’s drooling over you in the comments. And then there’s him.”

You couldn't help chuckling again and slid onto the couch next to him, pressing your hand against his knee. “Are you worried someone’s going to steal me away?”

He gave you a look, his lips twitching upwards at the edges, betraying the smallest hint of a smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re being ridiculous.” You leaned closer, brushing your lips against his cheek.

Max sighed dramatically throwing his head back against the cushions. “Maybe I should just post a picture with you, remind people who you belong to.”

“Oh, who I belong to?” you teased, poking him playfully in the ribs. “That sounds a little possessive.”

There was a teasing glint in his eye now, but you could still feel the underlying jealousy. “Can you blame me?”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, enjoying how worked up he was getting over something so trivial. Seeing him this riled up over some stupid comment was kind of… adorable. You kind of loved when he got all possessive, even if he wouldn’t admit it outright.

“No, I guess I can’t blame you,” you admitted, leaning your head on his shoulder. “But you know I don’t care about those comments, right? Especially not from my ex. I didn’t even notice it.”

“Maybe you should block him,” Max muttered back to sounding grumpy.

You laughed again, unable to stop yourself. “Max, it’s fine, if it’ll make you feel better of course I’ll block him. But I need you to know I never think about him.”

He softened a little at that, his arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders. “You better not.”

You smiled, nuzzling into him the warmth of his body calming. “Besides, none of those guys commenting are Max Verstappen now are they?”

“Exactly,” Max said, and there was that cocky smile you loved so much. The mood lightened as his fingers brushed through your hair. “None of them stand a chance.”

You grinned up at him. “And neither does my ex, so you can relax.”

He seemed to settle after that, his hand lazily stroking your arm as the tension eased out of his shoulders. “Good. But still…”

“Still what?”

“I think I should post a picture with you. Just to make sure everyone knows.”

You snorted. “You just want an excuse to show off.”

“Can you blame me?” he repeated, his eyes glinting with mischief as he reached for his phone. “Come on, one picture. Let me remind everyone you’re mine.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Fine. Just one.”

Max scrolled through his phone finding the perfect shot of you two together arms wrapped around each other, he quickly typed out a caption and hit ‘post.’ Not long after, your phone buzzed with notifications. His fans were quick, already liking and commenting on the post.

You glanced at it over his shoulder, chuckling at the caption: Just a reminder—she’s mine.

“Oh my God Max,” you groaned playfully. “You’re ridiculous.”

He shrugged, completely unbothered. “What? It’s true.”

You laughed and shook your head, leaning into him once more. “You really are something.”

“I know,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “And don’t forget it.”

The rest of the evening passed in a much lighter mood. The TV hummed in the background, but neither of you paid much attention to it. Instead, you spent the time teasing Max about his jealous streak, much to his dismay.

“You know, I never thought I’d see the day when Max Verstappen got jealous over a social media comment,” you teased, curling up beside him on the couch.

He rolled his eyes, a playful smirk on his lips. “I’m not jealous. I’m just… protective.”

“Sure, that’s what we’ll call it.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe I was a little jealous,” he admitted, pulling you closer. “You’re kind of amazing.”

You beamed up at him, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. “Well, good thing I’m all yours, huh?”

“Good thing,” he agreed, leaning down to kiss you, slow and sweet. When he pulled away, he added kiddingly “What about, no more selfies without me in them.”

You laughed and nudged him playfully. “We’ll see about that.”

But deep down, you didn’t mind the way Max was with you. The way he got protective, a little possessive, and sometimes even a little jealous. Max was known as a fierce competitor on the track, but when it came to you, his heart felt just as fierce. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[salemlunaa]

"OH WELL, IM NOT GONNA BE HERE FOR LONG, IM GONNA SHIFT ANYWAY" girl...

let's break down why this mindset, although very common, isn't super healthy...

I saw a post earlier where op talks about how they are un phased about all the bad things happening to them because they "won't be here for much longer”, which is so real and it honestly made me laugh so hard but, i must admit, this way of thinking can also have an unhealthy side.

I, personally, have also been victim to this mindset, and honestly i can tell you nothing good comes from thinking like this. You experience something bad, hurtful, embarrassing, slightly traumatic (which, bear in mind, you wouldn't have experienced if you hadn't procrastinated and tapped in to the void) and you tell yourself "it's okay, i'm not here for long anyway", you abandon responsibilities (that, again, wouldn't be your responsibility if you would ve stayed disciplined and tapped in) and you tell yourself "it's fine, i'm gonna shift anyway" "i'm probably gonna get into the void tonight so it doesn't matter"

NO NO and NO

of course it's good to have the mindset of knowing, knowing that it's your last day here and knowing that the void is the only outcome for you, because that type of thinking is what allows you to shift consciousness and tap in to the void, but a lot of you say that shit without even properly applying your knowledge, a lot of you are gonna remain sounding like broken records, repeating this shit for years, i swear it will be 2028 and yall will still be saying "it's okay i won't be here for long", "im gonna shift anyway"

don't wait for shit to hit the fan for you to get serious about your desires, don't wait for your circumstances to get horrible for you to finally fix up and actually do something. If you really knew you were a god, you wouldn't be here reading this, you would be as pretty as you wanna be, and as rich and happy as you wanna be enjoying your dream life. Don't fall into a comfortable routine with your current reality, (which is really just your old story) because it's not worth it. I even see you guys making and scripting for a "better current reality" (another excuse to remain comfortable with procrastination), when you could have your DREAM life, you guys get swept up in your old story, just because it can be "alright" sometimes. And then when something bad happens, you repeat the same phrase "oh well, i'm gonna shift anyway", and then when things go back to being "alright", you get comfortable again, further procrastinating, when you could have ANYTHING. Who cares about your "alright", "mediocre" reality when you could have the best and more!!

like girl, don't stay comfortable until you're forced to get uncomfortable with a negative change in circumstances. You should be determined to shift consciousness ALL THE TIME, not just when things get tough or responsibilities pile up. Because again, if you had that consistent mindset you wouldn't be here.

get uncomfortable with what you have to achieve what you want, so that all you want becomes all you have

GET UNCOMFORTABLE NOW SO YOU CAN LIVE COMFORTABLY FOR ETERNITY, DONT WAIT FOR SHIT TO HIT THE FAN ᥫ᭡💋

[rafecameronssl4t]

Tell ur girl || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: Topper’s new girl being a bitch so you just have to remind her where her place is.

Warnings: swearing, drinking

word count: 431

a/n: send me requests pleaseee 🫶

MASTERLIST

divider by @yoonitos

Posted up with my dogs, Scooby Doo type shit. She grippin’ all on my balls, I gotta move type shit. Diamonds, they cover my flaws, I got that brand new type shit.

You step into the dimly lit space of the party, left hand sporting a red plastic cup, your other holding your purse as you move amidst the chaotic atmosphere. The pulsating bass of Future’s ‘Type Shit’ reverberating through the air, the scent of alcohol and sweat mingles with the thrum of excitement, creating an intoxicating ambiance that electrifies the senses.

You navigate through the crowded room, your gaze fixed on Rafe, sat on one of the couches with a few people around, his presence commanding attention wherever he goes. You catch glimpses of familiar faces—like topper and kelce—their expressions a blend of excitement and indulgence, but your focus remains on Rafe.

He hadn’t noticed you as he was talking to a guy standing behind the couch, but Topper did, and he tapped Rafe on the shoulder and cocked his head to your direction. He watches you as you come closer with that grin you knew all too well. He let his eyes wander down your figure as you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks burn up.

Without even setting down your purse or cup, you immediately leaned over to Rafe as his hand rests on your hip, your lips meeting in a kiss. All while this was happening, you could hear Topper ushering the girl beside him to move to his other side. Your eyes move to an unfamiliar girl, her blonde locks cascading around her shoulders as she’s pressed up against your boyfriend’s arm, her expression one of casual indifference.

Your eyes then flicker towards Topper’s hand resting on her thigh. So this must be Top’s new girl, Cassie I think her name was. “Yo Top, tell your girl to move over yeah?” Rafe leans back on the sofa manspreading as his eyes lock with Topper’s behind the blonde girl’s head.

You notice the subtle change of demeanour in Cassie as she looks down at her painted nails. “Babe, just move here,” Topper pats the free space on his other side as she scoffs. “Why should I? I was here first,” she scoffs, glancing at you as she dismissively tosses her hair.

Rafe watches Cassie with a measured gaze, his eyes betraying none of the amusement that flickers in their depths. “Cassie, right?” The blonde blinks up at you, “Could you just please move over? You’ll still be sitting next to Top,” You assert, your tone firm but composed. Rafe’s lips quirk up in a barely contained smile.

“Nothing,” She shrugs, “I’m just not moving,” she declares defiantly, crossing her arms over her chest in a gesture of defiance. In your peripheral vision, Topper closes his eyes briefly before letting out a breath, “Cassie, it’s not a big fuckin’ deal, just move and let Y/n sit there.” His tone agitated.

Your patience wears thin at her stubbornness, frustration simmering beneath the surface. With a sigh, you shoot Rafe a pleading look, silently urging him to intervene. But Rafe merely watches the exchange with a hint of amusement, his lips quirking up in a barely concealed smile.

Before you can respond, Rafe’s deep voice slices through the thick tension in the room, calm yet imbued with an unmistakable authority. His eyes lock onto yours, his expression firm but not unkind. “Come on, Cassie. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” he says. His words resonate with a weight that leaves no room for argument.

“Fucking forget about it,” your voice cuts through the air as the three of them watch you set down your things on the glass table. Then, without missing a beat, you settle onto Rafe’s lap, his arms instinctively wrapping around you. Your boot-covered feet find their place on Cassie’s lap, causing her eyes to widen in shock

Topper stifles his laugh as Rafe smirks, his large hand resting on your exposed stomach. Topper’s laughs become audible, drawing a sharp glare from Cassie. “Fuck you all,” she snaps, pushing herself off the couch and shooting you a withering look before stalking off into the crowd.

“Jesus Christ, Top, where are you finding these girls? Bitch island?” You shook your head at him as he rolls his eyes, leaning back on the couch. “Fucked If I know. Maybe I should steer clear of blondes,” Topper grumbles. Rafe snorts, “That’s about the smartest think you’ve said in a long time.”

[rafecameroninterlude]

what if rafe found kook!sweetheart!reader’s girl blog? omg and he see’s some nsfw reblogs…

warnings: use of the nickname ‘daddy’ (just once), reader is just a 🎀 girl 🎀, 18+ links

a/n: i think i would die if this really happened omg

“i still think i should join you in the shower..” you looked up at rafe’s reflection from your vanity, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “we both know how that’ll end.” you laughed, adjusting your robe before twisting the door knob of your bathroom. “i’ll be right out.” rafe watched as you closed the door behind you, collapsing onto your bed with a sigh. he wanted nothing more than to get you underneath your sheets and, hopefully, have his head between your thighs.

just as he felt himself growing hard at the thought of you gasping his name, he heard your phone ding!

thinking nothing of it, he glanced at the device on your nightstand, a few more notifications coming in. his eyebrows knitted in confusion. you always had your phone silenced at this time of night. fingertips itching to check what was making your phone go off, he muttered a quick ‘fuck it.’ before grabbing the dammed thing. “tumblr?” he narrowed his eyes at the unfamiliar app icon.

[11:41 PM] lanasweetheart liked your post: “something about a manly man getting the bestest sleep in a pink hyperfeminine bed (he’s so babygirl 🎀)”

rafe clicked the notif, a ‘what the fuck?’ falling from his lips when a picture of him sleeping next to you lit up the screen. tapping on the profile icon, rafe was in for a surprise when all your posts were now at the tips of his fingers. “three thousand notes?” he was in disbelief that a photo of the back of his head peeking out of your pink comforter had gotten so much traction. “girls really go crazy over that shit?” he laughed, full on scrolling now.

rafe thought it was cute that all your posts consisted of photo dumps of your nights out with your girlfriends, cute selfies with freshly done makeup, nail pics, some rant posts here and there about drama he already had the full scoop on, but then he came across a tag that said ‘୨ৎ thinking thoughts’ that completely flipped his brain inside out.

bf looked so dilfy today, should i ask him for babies?

“you totally should.” he whispered to himself, tongue running across his bottom lip as he kept reading. the next post was a reblog.

gorgeous gorgeous girls pout and whine and whimper instead of using words

“yeah, you do.” rafe could feel heat starting to settle in the pit of his stomach. you were always so sweet and graceful, your boyfriend couldn’t help but feel a smidge of jealousy that an app got to see this side of you before he did.

i just want him to break me sometimes. slap me, choke me, degrade me.. rough me up a little bit that’s all :(

“holy shit.” he cleared his throat, his cock now straining against the denim material of his jeans. he would’ve happily done all of that for you if you asked, but then again maybe that was the problem. you shouldn’t have to. apart of rafe felt bad for invading your privacy like this, but man was he glad that he did.

love when daddy picks out my lingerie for the night <3

rafe’s jaw was on the ground. ‘daddy’???? oh, you were so going to get it. “what are you doing?” rafe jumped at the sound of your voice, having not heard the water to the shower stop. you were in nothing but a robe, the scent of your strawberry shampoo filling up his senses. “what am i doing?” he repeated your question, getting up as he placed your phone back on your nightstand.

“yeah.. did i get a text message or something?” your heart started pounding in your ears as you watched rafe’s eyes grow dark. “no. no text message. ‘was just looking through your filthy tumblr account.” you blinked, chest rising and falling as your blood ran cold. “oh?” you backed away with each step rafe took until you were finally blocked by your wall. “mhmm, turns out my sweet little girlfriend wants to be treated like a whore in bed.”

you swallowed thickly, a gasp leaving your lips when rafe’s hand wrapped around your throat. “wanna be roughed up?” he laughed, dragging you over to your bed before ripping the robe off of your body. “i’ll fuckin’ rough you up.”

[nanpecan]

₊✩‧₊˚once more to see you˚₊✩‧₊

{nanami x f!reader}

˚₊✩‧₊summary: You're a manager at Jujutsu Kaisen and happen to get assigned to driving a rank 1 sorcerer you've had a crush on for a while. Everything seems to be going as normal until an interaction with a curse leaves him a little hot and bothered.

˚₊✩‧₊tags: nanami x fem!reader, explicit smut (mdni) !!

˚₊✩‧₊ word count: 5.6k

˚₊✩‧₊author's note: this has been in my head for so long and I guess its part one to a longer story but who knows if I'll ever get around to writing it, yet alone posting it. anyways first time, kinda nervous; this is super self indulgent and i'm not even sorry about it.

˚₊✩‧₊this is also kind of inspired by this Mitski song, hence the title. I love this song, I think it's very Nanami coded<3

˚₊✩‧₊all parts here! pt 2. pt 3. pt 4.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

An obsession. 

That’s what it was. 

A rush of emotion when you caught even the smallest glance of him. 

Always in a hurry. 

Always somewhere to be. 

Never paying any mind to you. 

This lifestyle was a rushed one and you hardly ever found time for yourself, but your mind always seemed to have a second to wonder about him. 

Was he safe? Was he injured?

You had heard about him through others. 

You had really only seen him in action from a distance, once, and very briefly. But that had been enough to develop this stupid crush. 

You were a busy body, nothing but a cushion to the real missions of importance. 

You had come to accept that you would never really matter past making it from point A to point B, with whatever message you had to deliver, or whoever you had to transport for the day. 

You were secretly content with the position. You had started because you wanted to make a difference. 

But you knew you were a coward. 

You had the spirit but lacked the physical strength to back it. And that made you afraid. 

“Nanami Kento.” 

Your hand stopped mid air as you reached for your phone. 

“I’m sorry?” You must have misheard. 

“You owe me one.” Akari said with a smirk. The head manager had been one of your closest friends since you had begun working as an assistant. You had similar pasts and were around the same age, so you had instantly clicked. She was very much aware of your infatuation even if you hadn’t directly expressed it. She could see right through you every time you tried to feign indifference whenever the topic of Nanami was brought up. 

“Nanami needs transportation to his next mission. He usually goes on his own, but the client insisted he gets driven to this location specifically.”  There was something suspicious about that last statement, but you dismissed it as she kept talking.  “Ijichi is busy dealing with something so it was passed down to me.” She smiled again and shrugged. “But I have some very important business to take care of so I’m passing it on to someone I trust is more than qualified to drive a sorcerer of his class.”  She winked at you. “Don’t worry about the briefing he’s been sent all the information. All you have to do is drive him there and back.” 

You looked down at your phone and tried to act nonchalant. Until you saw the details. “Today?” 

She nodded. “Sorry for the last minute switch up, I figured you’d get in your own head if you had too much time to think about it. Make a good first impression. I’m rooting for you!” She gave you two thumbs up and laughed. 

You tapped your finger against the wheel nervously. You had never been more nervous to drive. It’s okay, you thought to yourself, nothing is going to happen, I doubt he’ll even speak to me. He’s not much of a talker, and besides, he always carries around a newspaper or a book. He won’t be paying attention to me. Just focus on-

You flinched as you heard the passenger door open. You had expected him to sit behind you. 

You felt your stomach drop as Nanami was suddenly next to you. It was almost overwhelming, his size, his smell, his warmth. 

You stared ahead awkwardly and felt his gaze on you. You turned to look at him trying not to seem too flustered. 

“Ah, good afternoon.” You smiled warmly at him. “Um, I’m y/n.” You said. 

He nodded and didn’t say anything back. 

“Right, it should take us around 36 minutes to get to your location.” 

He nodded again, his glasses turning to his watch. He suddenly looked up and stared ahead, as to signal that he was ready to head out.

This was so awkward. It was kind of making it easier to be around him. You didn’t know what else you expected. You’d actually preferred the silence rather than trying to carry a conversation with him. At least that’s what you were telling yourself. 

“Feel free to mess with the radio. I don’t have any preferences.” 

“I prefer to sit in silence before missions.” His voice sent a chill up your spine. Wait a minute, in silence? Weird. You thought to yourself. “Is that okay?” 

“Yes, that’s fine too.” Really weird. Most sorcerers would listen to something to amp them up before a mission. For Kusabe that was smooth Jazz, Yuki would put on 80’s Japanese Rock Classics, Ino would put on Ska and you couldn’t help but laugh the first time he requested it. You smirked at the memory and felt his eyes on you again. You dropped the smile and clenched your jaw. “Alright, we’ll be off then.” He hadn’t stopped staring. You quickly turned to look at him and smiled warmly. He turned away, seeming flustered. You quickly made a note of his reaction and you felt your stomach flutter a bit. You let your eyes linger on him for a bit longer, as he tugged at an invisible string on his suit, before turning away and driving off. 

-

You arrived at your location and looked up at the old building. You bit your lip to hold back a laugh. The crooked neon sign over the door was no longer lit up but you could still read out what it said, ‘Paradise X Massage.’ You curiously looked over to see Nanami’s reaction. As usual, he was stoic. 

He has to know what that means, right? You went around the car to stand next to him and the moment you took a step closer you felt the aura of the building. A shiver went up your spine and your stomach felt tingly. You couldn’t help but smile. A curse born from a place of sex was bound to have this kind of aura. 

Things started to click. Of course Nanami was the best sorcerer for the job. He would take this very seriously. You doubted he ever let his emotions get ahead of him. You thought back to a story Ijichi had told you a long time ago about a group of male sorcerers that had been sent to exorcise a type of Kejoro, only for them to return unsuccessful, unable to carry out the mission, as well as being hot and bothered for a week. 

You felt Nanami’s eyes on you again. You looked at him before turning back at the sign and scrunching your face. “Nanami, I wouldn’t have taken you for this type of man, but don’t worry I won’t tell.” You winked at him and cringed at your stupid joke. You didn’t know him like that. He probably thought you were insane. 

“Thank you, I try not to make it a habit.” He said back with a small smile. 

You looked at him a little surprised and laughed. 

“There you are, hello!” A sweaty man with beady eyes came your way and beelined to Nanami. “My name is Gonji, I was the one who sent for you.” He glanced at your direction before turning his back to you to speak with Nanami. You blinked and grimaced. “I bought this location five months ago, I should have known there was something wrong for the price I paid, but hey! That’s business! I’m planning on fixing her up and turning it into a real refined establishment if you know what I mean. I already have the clientele, and the girls but this damn thing keeps scaring the girls away and-“ he whispered the next words. “-killed three of my guys. But hey, that’s business!” He laughed nervously. He was talking a mile a minute, becoming more and more sweaty. The air had to be getting to him. “Anyway I’ve already called a bunch of weirdos to go in there and kill the damn thing but they were all useless. Scammers all of them.” He spat at the ground. “Hey if ya help me out, I’m sure we can work out some sort of discount for you once we’re up and running. What do you say, your choice of girl-“ 

“Has it taken any hostages?” Nanami cut him off. 

“No it only scares off the girls, but lets them out. The men on the other hand…If they do manage to make it out they act like wild animals. I have to keep them away from my girls.” He laughed and then erupted into a coughing fit. “That’s why I recommend you bring a driver. Even if you do kill this thing, the tent in your pants won’t let you focus on anything else for another two hours.” He cackled and elbowed Nanami in a playful manner. Nanami’s jaw clenched and he stared down at the man. Gonji didn’t seem to notice. He finally turned towards you. “Well at least you brought yourself a cute mouse to play with if it gets to be too much.” You couldn’t hide the look of disgust on your face when he finally looked at you. “Hey there little lady, a smile might help.” He rolled his eyes and turned back to Nanami. “Women these days. Can’t take a joke.” He tried elbowing Nanami again and was stopped by Nanami’s large hand grabbing his forearm. 

“We’ll get started. Did you want to go inside with me?” Nanami asked the man. 

Gonji pulled his arm out of Nanami’s grasp and swore at him under his breath. “No, I’m taking off. I have places to go, people to see, although I’d pay god knows what to see that bitch’s blood spilled on the floor.” He looked around and picked up a rock before weakly throwing it at the sign. He missed, it didn’t even hit the wall. He messed with his jacket, embarrassed. “I’ll be leaving now. I’ll send the payment tomorrow when I come and see the place again.” He waddled off. 

“What a fucking dickhead.” You said. “We shouldn’t even exorcise this curse. He shouldn’t be allowed to run a place like that. I’m willing to bet-“ 

“Will you put up the barrier?” You turned back to Nanami and nodded before muttering the incantation. Nanami awkwardly placed a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.” He turned towards the barrier. “For the record I agree. Scum like him are a scourge to society and should be dealt with accordingly. For now let’s bring this curse some peace.”

“Let’s.” You said in agreement. You watched him disappear into the veil.  

-

You leaned back against the car and checked the time on your watch. He had been gone for 20 minutes now. You sighed. Was it an insult to worry about him? He was one of the best - in your heavily biased opinion. 

   You heard your phone ding from inside the car as you received a message and you quickly went around to check it.  

    -So when’s the wedding? 

Akari was checking in on you. 

   -answer me this, what does it mean when someone doesn’t want to listen to any music on a 30 minute drive. 

   -No music? Like at all?     -none.    -weird. 

   -that’s what I was thinking! he must be fighting demons in his head.     -or he just wanted to savor every minute with you<3     -shut up.     -how’s it going anyway?     -don’t you have “important” business to take care of?     -:p boooo     -it’s fine, it’s some sort of sex cu-

You jumped as the back passenger door to your right was suddenly being opened. You felt the car shake as Nanami collapsed into the seats.  

“Shit, Nanami? Are you okay.” You should have been out there to greet him. You exited out of the car and dropped the veil. The building was a pile of rubble. You made your way around the car and yanked open the door. 

You felt blood rush to your face and your jaw dropped as you looked at what lay in front of you. 

Nanami had taken off his suit jacket, and was no longer wearing his glasses. He was suddenly desperately undoing his tie and fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, all the while breathing heavily. He turned away from you as you looked in.  

“What’s wrong, are you injured? How can I help?” Your face felt hot as you watched him struggle with his clothes. You hesitated to move forward, unsure what to do. 

He moved around a bit more, still struggling with his shirt, and you got a better look at him. His face was flush red and there was a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. He was panting, basically gasping for air. You stared at him feeling a burning in your chest as your heart beat in your ears. 

You snapped out of your trance, this was not the time. He might be hurt. He had backed up enough to be leaning on the opposite car door so you moved forward and let the door shut behind you. “Let me help you with that.” You said softly, moving your hands closer to help him with the buttons. “Are you hurt?” You asked as he let out a soft grunt. “Let me take a look.” His hands fell to his side and you noticed he was gripping the seats. He winced away from your touch, hissing as your knee touched his thigh. 

You froze. Your hands still on his shirt. He shuddered away from you but you felt him move his thigh forward, slightly, to touch your knee again. He let out a deep exhale and a muffled grunt. He repeated the movement again and again. You stayed there staring at him, face burning as you realized he was basically humping you. His breaths got faster and you felt the ghost of his hand on your back slowly pulling you closer. His inner thigh was now pushing into your knee repeatedly and you felt him slightly buckle his hips as his hand finally landed on your neck and pulled you forward. Your hands, still on his shirt buttons, pushed lightly against his chest and your head fell into the space above his shoulder, cheeks now next to each other. He pushed hard against your knee one more time and then you heard him moan deeply into your ear. 

“Fuck.” You heard him mutter. His voice was full of frustration. “Fuck.” He said again. 

You slowly pulled back, looking at him, completely in shock. He wasn’t meeting your gaze. He just kept muttering “fuck” and “sorry” under his breath. 

You looked down and once again felt blood rush to your face as you realized what had happened. 

Since his body was leaned back against the door, you had crawled closer to him and were now on your knees between his legs. You guessed at some point he had managed to undo his belt, the button to his trousers, and pulled down the zipper because you were staring at his erection through the fabric of his underwear. It was soaked. 

You quickly pulled back away from him, somewhat losing your balance and placing your hands back down to steady yourself. Nanami lurched up as you placed your hands on his thighs and you watched as he came again. This time seeing the white liquid bleed through the fabric and drip down. 

“I- I am so sorry.” You said quickly and started to back away. You needed to leave him alone. One of his hands grabbed onto your arm keeping you in place. You looked at him confused. 

“No, stop,” he said, panting. “I’m sorry,” he said, finally looking into your eyes. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I apologize. This is bad. I can't control-“ he squeezed your arm a little as his eyes shut and his brows knit together. “I need...” he looked into your eyes and slowly moved closer to you. His face was inches away and you felt the warmth radiating off of him. He looked directly at you now and seemed to be looking for some sort of sign. His eyes were beautiful. You realized this was the first time you had seen them. “Please…” You continued to stare at him, in shock. He wriggled beneath you and let out a soft moan. “I need you.” 

You understood. 

You quickly moved closer to him, crashing your lips into his. He moaned into your mouth and desperately pressed his lips to yours. You pushed your tongue through his closed lips and he slightly opened his mouth meeting you with his own tongue. You let him slither his in yours before closing your mouth and tugging at his lips slightly. When you finally pulled back you were both panting heavily, a string of saliva connecting you. You looked down and saw he had come again. 

“Y/N, please,” he took your hand and pulled it towards him. “I want…” you looked at him and smirked. Your eyes wandered down as he groaned again. 

“What do you want?” You said mischievously. You looked back up. 

“Please.” You had intended to tease him, but he looked so distraught and frazzled, you felt it would be too mean spirited. You nodded and let his hand guide you to his pants. You laid your hand down gently over him and felt him twitch underneath you. He groaned and you felt your face burn up again. This was happening. 

“I’ll-I’ll help you out, don’t worry.” You said nervously. You pressed down and his hips jutted into your hand. Your chest felt fluttery as your eyes were glued down to your hand and his member twitching beneath it. You smiled a little and clenched your thighs together. Focus. You were all talk. You tried to hide your nerves as you slowly wrapped your fingers around his clothed cock. He tried to suppress a moan as he shuddered underneath you. You watched the discoloration in his underwear spread as more fluid leaked out. “Wow.” 

He suddenly pulled your face closer to him and kissed you. He was desperate for contact, moaning into your mouth as he used his free hand to pull down the band of his underwear and you gasped as you felt his hot skin in your hand. 

You opened your eyes to try to sneak a peek but his right hand was buried in your hair, keeping you in place to make out with him. You kept your fingers together and wrapped around him as he thrust his hips forward, sliding between your curled fingers easily. He tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth as you felt him wrap a hand around yours, guiding you to stroke him. His breath shuddered at the feeling and he pulled you closer again. You moved your free hand to steady yourself as you leaned over him. 

He looked up at you and you saw fire burning in his eyes. He suddenly moved your hand away from his dick and placed his hands on your hips lifting you slightly so he could readjust himself under you. You were straddling him. He watched you carefully as he gently rocked his hips up between your legs and moved his hands up to go under your shirt. He waited patiently for your approval. You nodded and his hands slithered up your shirt to cup your breasts. You gasped as he roughly kneaded you and you started to undo the buttons on your shirt. Nanami decided you weren’t fast enough and ripped the shirt off of you. You didn’t have time to process past the sound of fabric ripping because he sat up and kissed you again. 

His hands moved impatiently all over your body as he pulled you closer. He was rough, but not in an aggressive way, he was impatient. You suddenly felt his fingers work their way into the waistband of your pants and you moved your hands to stop him. He looked up at you and stopped moving. He stared silently, still breathing heavily. “Would you like me… to stop?” He asked. 

You looked down at him and took a moment to assess the situation. Nanami was half naked laying under you. His shirt was now off revealing his toned chest and abdomen. You finally looked down and saw his dick. Wide and long, the bright red tip was leaning right and radiating heat. Your mouth watered. And you lightly moved your hips forward to feel it push against your core. 

“Is there a problem?” He asked. 

You hesitated to answer him. How embarrassing, you thought to yourself, this is probably going to hurt. Would he stop if you told him you were a virgin? Maybe it would be for the best. You could feel yourself soaking through your underwear, but would that be enough? He was big. You looked back up at him and opened your mouth to speak. You met his eyes and you blushed. His hair was tousled, skin pink and flush and of course he was breathing deeply. You noticed something on the side of his neck. A cut. It was a puncture wound, no bigger than your pinky nail, but it looked deep. 

“You’re injured.” You put your hand up to it and carefully examined it. It was emoting cursed energy and everything clicked. He might have defeated the curse in the building but she had gotten a good lick in. You put your hand over it to heal him. 

You weren’t good at much, but your ability to use a tiny amount of RCT had been your saving grace. Not that you were very good at it. You could really only handle superficial wounds like this one. 

Suddenly his hand grabbed your wrist and pulled it away. “Later,” he said. You stared at him confused. “I want to finish you first.” His hips thrust upwards against your pants and you couldn’t help but smile. You nodded and brought your hands down to undo the button to your pants. Nanami hissed under you as you shifted your weight around trying to pull your pants down. You were able to get one leg out and began pulling them down the other when he grabbed you quickly and settled you on top of him again. He looked up at you and you watched his eyes move down to take in your body. “Are you ready?”

You looked back at him nervously. “I-you’re so big.” You were too embarrassed to tell him it was your first time. He sat up and was suddenly inches from your face. 

He smiled coyly and nodded. “It’s okay, I can help you.” You felt one of his hands grip your waist and the other moved down to rub your clit. Your breath shuddered and you automatically buckled your hips against his hand. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders for support. He smiled wider, amused. His fingers moved lower and he slid them between your folds to collect your arousal. You were breathing heavily, your face buried into his chest. You felt him slip a finger inside of you, slowly, you felt him push up against you as far as he could go before there was a slight pop. 

A moan escaped your lips as he pushed his finger deeper. “Fuck,” he muttered. “You’re so tight.” You felt him drag his finger out, “I’m adding another one, okay?” You nodded lost in bliss. You bit your lip as you felt his fingers stretch you out again, this time sliding in a bit easier. His hands were large and his fingers long, but you knew this was easy to take compared to the real thing. Your ability to think was damped as he sped up his thrusts and his other hand slid down to rub your clit again with his thumb. You gasped and felt yourself clench onto him. You moved your hips forward desperate to feel friction. You were panting wildly and felt yourself getting close. You moved your arm down and wrapped a hand around his cock. Roughly stroking it, to repay the favor. 

“Wait-I’m close, I-I want you inside of me.” You whispered into his ear. You could feel his heartbeat quicken as his lips crashed down on yours again. 

“Whatever you want.” He said. He removed his fingers and you winced at the new empty feeling. Still rubbing your clit with one hand, he moved his now free hand to stop your strokes and guided himself between your legs. He thrust slowly against your folds running his cock between your thighs and your mound and you buckled your hips against him.

You smiled happily. Even if you couldn’t take him, you’re sure you could come from just this. He suddenly stopped and pulled back, you looked down at his cock now gleaming, covered in your fluids. He lay back against the seat and put his hands on your hips. “Now it’s up to you,” he lifted your hips and positioned you so your cunt was hovering over him. “Take your time, if you don’t think you can do it, let me know.” You felt embarrassment rush through you. Did he know? 

“Thank you.” You said meekly. 

“I’m not trying to embarrass you,” he said softly. His hand came up and caressed your cheek. “I just don’t want to hurt you.” The kindness in his eyes made your heart flutter. You nodded with new determination. You placed a hand on his chest to balance yourself as you reached down with your other one to position him in place. You thrust your hips against his tip and pushed it into your folds, watching as his jaw clenched from the feeling. You found your opening and slowly lowered yourself to allow him inside. You winced as the tip entered you and you pushed down as far as you could go. You looked down in disappointment as you realized he wasn’t even half way in. You moved your hips back and forth just on his tip and he moved his hands onto your hips digging his fingers into you. He hissed and closed his eyes from the feeling. 

“Sorry.” You apologized. 

   He opened his eyes and furrowed his brows. “Don’t apologize. If that’s all you can do, I’ll take it.” He slowly thrust his hips and you moaned. You wished you could take him further. You bit your lip, you could do it. You reached down to lead his cock further into you and you braced yourself as you pushed him in deeper. You whimpered as you felt him stretch you out and after a little resistance he slid right in with a plop. He pulled you closer and bucked his hips slightly as he felt you wrapped around him. Pulsing from the new feeling. You winced as he moved. He was so big. You looked up at him and his face was pure bliss. His mouth was slightly open and his eyes closed, brows furrowed. “Shit,” he muttered. “You’re so tight around me.” He looked up at you. “Is this your first-“ you cut him off with a kiss. You winced at the sensation of him inside of you but suddenly moaned as he pushed up and you felt him reach a spot deep inside of you. You gasped as he thrust and hit it again. 

“There, right there, please.” You said desperately. He smiled and began thrusting his hips upwards satisfied every time he saw your face scrunch when he hit that spot. His hands moved back to your ass and he spread your cheeks out allowing himself to go just a little bit deeper. You let out a yelp as he now directly hit that spot inside of you. 

“Good girl, you’re taking me so well”. He said. You smiled lazily and kissed him. He slowed his pace a bit as he moved his hand down to rub your clit again. He had seen how much you had liked it and wanted you to finish soon. The feeling of you clamping down on him was going to make him cum soon, too. You let out a heavenly moan as he started to rub you. 

Your hips moved down on their own as you rode him. “Nanami! Fuck!” You whined as you bounced over him. You pulled him closer to you to make out and he began to move his hips in opposition to yours. You gasped as you felt him reach deep inside of you, and you wanted more, you felt your climax building up as you desperately pushed against him. Wanting to keep him deeper. He understood and thrust sharply and rubbed your clit harder. Loud moans of his name and ungodly noises left your lips as you felt it all become too much and you suddenly felt your whole body shake vigorously as you came. You felt tears come to your eyes. 

You had never felt this good, you felt radiant, like a blinding fire took your body and left you refreshed. You shook over him a couple of times, enjoying the feeling of your cunt pulsing on him. He had stopped moving, still buried deep inside of you so you could ride out your high. Your eyes fluttered as you looked up at him and you smiled, happier than you’d ever been. He planted a kiss on your lips. 

“You’re beautiful.” He said. You felt heat weld up in your stomach, he wiped your tears away softly. 

You looked down at him and furrowed your brows. “You didn’t come.” You lifted your hips slightly and winced. “Keep going.” You blushed as you saw the white ring that had formed at the base of his cock. The opening of his pants was also covered in your slick. 

He nodded and put a hand over your waist, quickly flipping you over and laying you down across the back seats. You were now under him and watched as he backed up, pulling his pants further down. You watched him through the V frame of your legs. Your cunt was sore and you felt like you looked a mess but when he looked back up at you, all your insecurities vanished. He took the sight of you in and you saw his dick twitch with anticipation. He came closer and while you expected him to just go in you gasped as his face went between your thighs and his lips latched onto your clit. You let out a moan. It was too much, you were still so sensitive. You grabbed his head and ran your fingers through his blonde locks. He looked up at you as he ran a stiff tongue against your folds and you shuddered. He smirked and went to town. 

He threw your legs over his shoulders and devoured you. Your toes curled and you had to stop yourself from closing your thighs, afraid to crush him. You suddenly felt his fingers curl deep inside you as his tongue played with your bud and you yelled out, your climax hitting again. You held his head against you as you rode out your high; thrusting your hips forward, and rubbing your cunt over his entire face, his nose in particular hitting your clit and making you shudder. You let your head fall back and looked up at him. He smiled at you before backing up and lining himself up to your entrance. “Are you still okay?” 

You nodded, exhausted but ready for more. This had to be a dream. “Whatever you want.” You repeated back to him with a smile.

“Good girl.” He pushed himself easily into you and you watched his face form a scowl as he went past your tightest part. You clenched down on him and he opened an eye and smirked at you. “Tell me if it gets to be too much.” You couldn’t even answer him before he was thrusting into you quickly, his hands on your hips holding you down and pulling you against him. He was desperate to fuck you. His hips bucked wildly against you, going in and out at a sickening pace. You could only stare at him in bliss, your mouth open and deep moans escaping everytime he moved. He grunted and pulled you closer, feeling himself coming to his limit. “You’re so good. You’re taking me so well, Princess. Fuck.” He muttered. 

“Nanami-” you moaned his name as you felt another high wash over you. You yelped and shut your eyes, arching your back with a cry. You wrapped your legs around him, locking him in place as you felt him growing more desperate with each thrust. You hummed as you noticed him looking at you, once again looking like he was looking for a sign. You smiled, exhausted and nodded. That’s all he needed. 

He grunted again and thrust his hips into you one last time, roughly, as he came. You felt him shooting hot ropes of cum inside of you and you brought his head down to kiss him. He smiled against your lips. You felt his cock pulsing inside of you and your eyes closed sleepily. 

“Thank you, y/n.” 

You nodded as you felt exhaustion come over you. “You can go again if you want.” You said barely keeping your eyes open. 

“What?” 

“You made me come three times just now. I think I owe you two more rounds.” He smiled and shook his head. 

“Rest, I’ll clean you up.” You furrowed your brows and frowned. “Do you trust me?” 

“Yes, but,” your eyes closed again. “It’s not fair. Go again, I don’t mind. I’ve been dreaming about this for so long I-“ you fell asleep.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

pt. 2 pt 3. pt 4.

˚₊✩‧₊nana here: if you made it this far bless you. if you saw a typo...no you didn't. idk if i'll ever post pt 2...i guess it depends on how this does or if a certain someone somehow convinces me to post the next part—shout out to cath my biggest supporter<3

[nereidprinc3ss]

lava lamp

in which spencer reid comforts gn!reader when you find yourself contending with a sudden bout of depression

fluff

warnings/tags: established relationship, reader has depression, task paralysis, spencer reid can't cure your depression but he sure can't make it worse

a/n: this is most definitely not inspired by the pink lava lamp in my room. it has nothing to do with that. extremely short and sweet, WC <800

The room is awash in hot pink. 

It’s interrupted only by dark shadows cutting lines across the floor and the furniture. The blinds are down over the window so moonlight can’t seep in—assuming the moon is in fact out now. You’re not actually sure. You don’t know how long you’ve been lying here like this, studying the soft glow of the lava lamp where it sits on the bedside table, watching the blobs of orange separate and conjoin and float around each other like they’re dancing in the suspending liquid. 

The sound of keys in the front door, of it scuffing against the floor as it opens and squeaking shut and the lock clicking back into place, inspire the tiniest spark of joy inside you. For a few moments you remain in solitude—listening to the sounds of the kitchen sink running as Spencer washes his hands, a glass being set down on the counter, the soft rustle of fabric on fabric as he takes his coat off. Maybe you have really excellent hearing. Maybe you’re just imagining the sounds because you’re so familiar with his post-work rituals. 

Finally the bedroom door opens, catching your legs in a triangle of yellow light, and sounds cease—Spencer is surely standing in the doorway, surely surprised to find you sprawled on the bed, staring vacantly at the lamp you’d purchased last winter from an antique shop. 

The door closes again, encasing you in an amnion of pink warmth once more. 

“Hi,” he says, quietly enough. 

You don’t respond. Not for a lack of affection. Just for a lack of energy, really. Spencer is used to you, and he doesn’t let your heavy mood stop him from moving to sit on the mattress behind you. The heat of his hand is a comforting weight as it finds your back, slowly rubbing up and down. There is always so much love in the way he touches you. 

“How’re you feeling, honey?”

A quiet moment passes in which you’re gathering the energy to speak for the first time in hours. Spencer doesn’t rush you. 

“Tired.”

More quiet. 

“What kind of tired?”

But he knows what kind of tired. 

“I tried to fold laundry,” you mumble, lacking even the gumption to move your mouth much as you speak. You tap the laundry basket with your toe where it sits on the foot of the bed. The laundry inside remains very much unfolded. 

“I can handle it.”

If you had any more vitality you’d say, you shouldn’t have to, you just got home from a full day’s work, I’ll take care of it—but the truth is, you can’t handle it and you can’t take care of anything—not even yourself. All you can do is watch orange bubbles float in radioactive pink liquid. 

“I don’t know what happened,” you whisper. A few tears take you by surprise as they roll down over the bridge of your nose, though your face remains stony. “I’ve been here for hours.”

Spencer’s hand remains steadfast on your back and you wish you could express how grateful you are for it and for him and for his gentle voice, always. 

“Maybe nothing happened. Maybe some days are just hard.”

You sniffle. The answer is unsatisfying, but so is life, sometimes. And you know he’s right. 

“Yeah.”

Time passes. A few minutes, maybe, of listening to your own ears ring, to the haunting frequency of the old building, of the upstairs neighbors walking around and snatches of music coming from cars on the streets below. 

“You know, I sometimes have days where I just want to lie down and stare at the lava lamp too. I think a lot of people feel that way.”

You turn your head just slightly and finally see him, cast in the soft lambent glow, smiling down at you in that unconscious, serene way, that is little more than a curve of his lip. Just seeing his face makes something in your chest unclench.  

“Really?”

The soft arch of his smile flickers momentarily wider. 

“Metaphorically speaking.”

He’s perfect. 

You reach over your own waist to grab his hand, and he interlocks your fingers, running his thumb over yours. 

Spencer knows it, but you tell him anyway. “I love you.”

He leans down and kisses you, so softly it’s like medicine. 

You know it, but Spencer says it back anyway, sweetly against your lips, heads pressed together. “I love you.”

And you much prefer this view to the lava lamp. 

[pomefioredove]

i just noticed on your 'yuu gets sold' sorta series that there was a good ending, by chance could you do a bad ending one? if not that's totally ok! keep safe and stay healthy ❤️

oh god. I have a very evil idea for this.

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim

summary: a bad (or good, depending on your stance) ending type of post: short fic characters: surprise :) additional info: yuu is gender neutral, this is short, HELP

Everyone waits.

The chatter and banter which once occupied the courtyard dies down to dull whispers and foot tapping.

Everyone waits, and there's no Crowley.

"Wonderful," Jamil sighs. "He's probably taken all the money and run off. I told you all that-"

"Maybe he's late!" Kalim shouts. A few in the crowd murmur in hopeful agreement.

Silver coughs. "Maybe he realized this whole thing is ridiculous and is processing everyone's refunds,"

They don't like that option as much.

The sun hangs lower and lower in the sky, threatening to shroud everyone in darkness as the minutes tick on.

"Well, I've had enough of this," Vil says, turning towards the exit. "I've put off my afternoon long enough."

"For once, we can agree on something," Leona murmurs, dragging Ruggie along with him.

No one is exactly surprised with this turn of events- but there's a definite sense of disappointment that everyone is sharing.

"He probably just forgot or 'somethin," Epel says, walking alongside Ace, Deuce, and Jack back to Ramshackle to update you on the happenings.

Jack shrugs. "He's definitely not the most organized, but there's no way someone could just "forget" about this. I think Jamil is right, he probably ran off with the money while he could. The swindler..."

Deuce is the next to add something to the pity party. "And yet, we should've known this was a possibility,"

"Shoulda seen it coming..." Epel murmurs. "I shoulda listened to Vil and pulled out while I still had the chance. Dang it..."

The lights are on in Ramshackle as the four approach, a warm and welcome sight after their disappointing afternoon. And the front door is open- were you expecting them?

"Hm. Well, think of it this way," Ace pushes the door the rest of the way open. "We may have been scammed, but at least nothing changes. I mean, it could've been worse."

"A lot worse," Deuce murmurs, following him inside.

The four make it into the foyer and stop dead in their tracks.

There are many things to expect walking into Ramshackle- cobwebs, dust, ghosts, you- Crowley is usually not one of them.

"You- you've been here this whole time?!" Epel shouts, throwing his arms out. "We were all 'waitin for 'ya like a bunch of idjits!"

Deuce and Ace wince. "Dude, chill... but seriously, where were you?"

Crowley doesn't have the chance to answer before something else steals away their attention.

You walk into the room, suitcase in hand. "Guys?"

The four turn to greet you, eyes wide at the luggage you're carrying. "What's that... Crowley?"

The man himself just stands there, pretending to ponder something. "I could have sworn I sent someone to break the news... how peculiar,"

Epel's brow knots. "What news?"

"A third party somehow got wind of our little... venture and donated a very high sum at the last minute. Along with a very passionately worded letter about our dear prefect's safety here at school," he pauses. "Or lack thereof."

Crowley sighs. "The name rung a bell, but... I couldn't imagine how or why anyone outside of NRC would be following the prefect's moves so closely,"

Deuce's eyes narrow. "Crowley. What are you trying to say?"

"Well, I..." he says, seemingly at a loss for words. "I'm afraid to say that our prefect is being transferred to Noble Bell College,"

[fuckmymunson]

Confidential. — Eddie Munson.

☆ 18+, smut, lowkey hate sex, fingering. | word count: 1.2k

☆ my montly post ;) or maybe I'll find more inspo soon.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Can you leave me alone for five fucking seconds?”

“For what? So you can keep talking shit behind my back?” He asks back, crossing his arms. Leaning against the dirty bathroom wall, Eddie stares at you with a cocky smirk. He isn’t usually this confident, not around you at least. 

“I don’t want the whole school to think I’m your fucking groupie, dude. Just leave me alone,” You bite back. You wish you could erase that smirk on his face. The anger is bubbling up your throat, burning your insides. “Just because I’m the only one who lets you get your dick wet, it doesn’t mean you can go around bragging about it.”

“Why wouldn’t I be bragging about it?” Eddie laughs, he has the audacity to laugh. “Don’t you think it would be a juicy conversation topic? You, little miss perfect, fucking the freak?”

“Shut the fuck up. Seriously— or I promise you I will beat the shit out of you.”

“Jesus, you kiss your mother with that mouth, sweetheart?” He mocks you again, again. Eddie is really testing your patience. Lowering his arms, he steps closer, his heavy boots tapping on the greasy linoleum. “I think we both know you look better with your pretty lips wrapped around my cock rather than talking shit.”

“Fuck you. Literally. I don’t even know why I agreed to this,” Done with this conversation that will surely lead to nothing, you grab the doorknob. “You talk a lot of shit when we are alone, but you are such a pussy when people bully you. Just say you don’t have the balls to man up.”

“Man up?” Eddie takes another step. He is willing to chase you if you dare to open that door. “Oh, sweetheart. You know what kind of man I am. The man who can actually make you come, not like those preppy fuckers that share you.”

Your head whips at his words. He couldn’t have possibly said that. Perhaps you are having a stroke. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, cutie. The same whores you talk shit with, talk shit about you too— behind your back, I might add,” His hand takes yours, gently removing it from the doorknob. Eddie bites back a laugh when he sees your expression, how could you be so oblivious? “Haven’t you noticed? Or are you that stupid?”

Shaking your head, you push him— or try to, at least— the action surprises him, but he doesn’t move an inch. Eddie quickly wraps an arm around your waist, pushing you against the wall. He knows what you need, wherever and whenever, he knows what you want. Your hatred has no fundament, you are just a dumb sheep that follows the horde, but he can’t blame you; there’s the need to fit… and there’s the need you can’t escape from no matter what.

“Come on, you know you don’t want to break our little deal,” He whispers.

“Let go of me,” You choke. “You are lying. They are my friends—”

“You know what they say, sometimes your enemies live in your own home,” Nobody says that, Eddie is just making it up to play with your newfound insecurity. “Perhaps you are a freak, just like me.”

Smashing his lips against yours, your hands grope his shoulders. The logical thing would be to push him, to yell and run, but you can’t. Whatever he has, is drowning you. Eddie can make you see stars, and the problem is that he is the only one. A thing that happened by a stupid mistake occasioned by the stupid join you agreed is now escalating and threatening to ruin your reputation— he knows that. You know that. Outside he is no one, but when you two are alone, he makes you feel like you are no one. 

“You talk so damn much,” Your words are weak when his lips reach your neck, when his hands slide underneath your skirt. “I hate you.”

“I hate you too, pretty girl.”

Lifting one leg to wrap it around his hip, you bite your lower lip when his thumb traces the outline of your folds, rubbing the fabric of your panties against you. Keeping you steady with his free hand on your waist, Eddie bites down on your neck, relishing on the sweet cry that escapes your lips. He is so close he can smell your perfume, of course is the one he has been seeing advertised on TV. You fight so much to be perfect that it breaks you how pathetic your yearning is. He quickly finds your clit— now this is true, you know what they say… practice makes perfect— circling it slowly.

“You want to keep it so low, yet the only thing you keep low is your voice when I fuck you in your bedroom,” He taunts you. He hits you in your weakest spots. “Just accept it, I’m your escape— I don’t mind. As long as you are honest.”

“Fuck you,” You spit, buckling your hips when he pushes your underwear to the side. It is an endless battle, not only with him, but with yourself.

With a sigh, Eddie shakes his head, his curly hair bouncing softly. “As you wish, sweetheart.”

Sliding a finger, his cold rings make you gasp. He never takes them off, not even when he fucks you. Eddie says it makes him look cool, you say it makes him look idiotic— and you maintain that thought, even when he is adding a second finger and curling it, rubbing your tight walls slowly. Moaning louder, you clasp a hand over your mouth, if someone finds you, God, you’d be ruined; he, on the other hand, has other plans. Thrusting his digits slowly, Eddie groans lowly every time he feels you tightening. The moans you fight so hard to swallow are a confidence boost, and right now? He wants to hear them all.

“Take that hand off your mouth or I swear I will leave you here,” His threat makes you shudder. What games is he playing? “I’m being serious.”

Reluctantly, you agree. The smile that appears on his cheeky face shouldn’t be as pretty as it is. Now you are sure he is toying with you— yet you can’t be mad about it. Not when he is speeding up, not when he is nibbling on your neck, not when you can feel his erection grinding against your thigh. Being finger–fucked by the town’s freak is already embarrassing enough, so naturally, orgasming so quickly would be even more embarrassing.

“Why do you fight it?” Removing his fingers, Eddie clicks his tongue when you protest. “I could fuck you every day if you weren’t such a bitch,” Yanking your underwear down, he pushes you harder against the wall, spitting on his fingers and returning them to his favorite place. Your pussy greets them back greedily, squeezing his digits and wetting them until you are not sure if it’s dripping down his wrist. “At least I know one part of you actually likes me.”

“Shut up— Shut up,” you repeat over and over, keeping your eyes shut. Your moans flow freely now, urging him to continue. Eddie loves how pliant he can get you, how just a little pleasure gets you this dumb. “Fuck— don’t stop, please.” There it is, what he has been dying to hear.

“I wouldn't dream of, princess.”

[ayeforscotland]

What is Dataflow?

This post is inspired by another post about the Crowd Strike IT disaster and a bunch of people being interested in what I mean by Dataflow. Dataflow is my absolute jam and I'm happy to answer as many questions as you like on it. I even put referential pictures in like I'm writing an article, what fun!

I'll probably split this into multiple parts because it'll be a huge post otherwise but here we go!

A Brief History

Our world is dependent on the flow of data. It exists in almost every aspect of our lives and has done so arguably for hundreds if not thousands of years.

At the end of the day, the flow of data is the flow of knowledge and information. Normally most of us refer to data in the context of computing technology (our phones, PCs, tablets etc) but, if we want to get historical about it, the invention of writing and the invention of the Printing Press were great leaps forward in how we increased the flow of information.

Modern Day IT exists for one reason - To support the flow of data.

Whether it's buying something at a shop, sitting staring at an excel sheet at work, or watching Netflix - All of the technology you interact with is to support the flow of data.

Understanding and managing the flow of data is as important to getting us to where we are right now as when we first learned to control and manage water to provide irrigation for early farming and settlement.

Engineering Rigor

When the majority of us turn on the tap to have a drink or take a shower, we expect water to come out. We trust that the water is clean, and we trust that our homes can receive a steady supply of water.

Most of us trust our central heating (insert boiler joke here) and the plugs/sockets in our homes to provide gas and electricity. The reason we trust all of these flows is because there's been rigorous engineering standards built up over decades and centuries.

For example, Scottish Water will understand every component part that makes up their water pipelines. Those pipes, valves, fitting etc will comply with a national, or in some cases international, standard. These companies have diagrams that clearly map all of this out, mostly because they have to legally but also because it also vital for disaster recovery and other compliance issues.

Modern IT

And this is where modern day IT has problems. I'm not saying that modern day tech is a pile of shit. We all have great phones, our PCs can play good games, but it's one thing to craft well-designed products and another thing entirely to think about they all work together.

Because that is what's happened over the past few decades of IT. Organisations have piled on the latest plug-and-play technology (Software or Hardware) and they've built up complex legacy systems that no one really knows how they all work together. They've lost track of how data flows across their organisation which makes the work of cybersecurity, disaster recovery, compliance and general business transformation teams a nightmare.

Some of these systems are entirely dependent on other systems to operate. But that dependency isn't documented. The vast majority of digital transformation projects fail because they get halfway through and realise they hadn't factored in a system that they thought was nothing but was vital to the organisation running.

And this isn't just for-profit organisations, this is the health services, this is national infrastructure, it's everyone.

There's not yet a single standard that says "This is how organisations should control, manage and govern their flows of data."

Why is that relevant to the companies that were affected by Crowd Strike? Would it have stopped it?

Maybe, maybe not. But considering the global impact, it doesn't look like many organisations were prepared for the possibility of a huge chunk of their IT infrastructure going down.

Understanding dataflows help with the preparation for events like this, so organisations can move to mitigate them, and also the recovery side when they do happen. Organisations need to understand which systems are a priority to get back operational and which can be left.

The problem I'm seeing from a lot of organisations at the moment is that they don't know which systems to recover first, and are losing money and reputation while they fight to get things back online. A lot of them are just winging it.

Conclusion of Part 1

Next time I can totally go into diagramming if any of you are interested in that.

How can any organisation actually map their dataflow and what things need to be considered to do so. It'll come across like common sense, but that's why an actual standard is so desperately needed!

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: GUILTY CONSCIENCE

✩ ‧ ˚. serial killer!au: ever since that first night, you can't get him off your mind—and even though you handed him over to law enforcement, it looks like he still wants you too. PART 1 | NSFW

contents: fem!reader. porn with plot, dubcon, semi-public sex (in a bathroom), oral (m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), pet names (detective, princess, smart girl, pretty girl, etc.), gojo cums in your mouth. non-sexual threatening. non-sexual usage of knives/guns. more plot than porn. this is not good for you btw !!! 4K words.

author's note: pls appreciate your smut writers bc this shit is hard !!!! the sk!series might be over after this one bc i'm not feeling it anymore, but nothing's set in stone yet. posting this for the ppl who wanted a part two, but personally i would've just left it as a standalone.. oh well, i didn't want 4K words to go to waste, so enjoy 🤍

“satoru gojo, what are we going to do with you?” your subordinate asks, resting his hands on the table dividing the dim interrogation room in two. you and your coworker sit on one side, facing the serial killer on the other side—who also happens to be the man you fucked in an alley two weeks ago.

ever since that first encounter, you haven’t been able to get his face out of your mind. at work, his ice blue eyes haunted your every move. at home, he was all you could picture as your mind strayed back to your time beneath him. and now, as you and your boss interrogate him, all you can think about is how good satoru’s hands felt roaming over your skin when you cornered him—or, more accurately, when he cornered you.

“i dunno,” satoru replies, leaning back in his chair and resting his hands behind his head. he grins shamelessly, looking you up and down with interest. “so, pretty girl, how’ve you been since we last met?”

you slip your hands into your pockets to stop yourself from doing something you’ll regret and ignore the curious look your coworker gives you. “this meeting isn’t about me. this is about the people you killed and the punishment you’re about to get,” you answer through gritted teeth.

satoru laughs, eyes locking with yours and seeing right through you. “that’s funny. so, who’s this shrimpy guy next to you? your boyfriend?” he jeers, grinning unnervingly at your coworker. you shoot your subordinate an apologetic look, which he responds to with a nod.

“i’m her boss, actually,” he clarifies, running a hand through his blonde hair and narrowing his eyes. “kento nanami. and i’ve been referred to as a lot of things, but shrimpy is a first.” satoru makes a face and laughs, as if he’s amused by the whole scene. 

“really? i’m surprised,” satoru replies easily. “i mean, whatever. i’ve seen better looking officers… like the one next to you.” he looks back at you, a careless smile still dancing on his lips. kento frowns and looks back and forth from you to satoru, and you force yourself to maintain a poker face in order to detract any suspicion.

“do you two know each other?” kento asks, crossing his arms. satoru starts laughing again, to which you roll your eyes. even if satoru were to tell kento what you hadn’t—that you two had fucked when you were supposed to be arresting him—you doubted that kento would believe him. after all, what’s the word of an obnoxious criminal compared to yours?

you shake your head and ignore satoru. “i’m the one who’s been leading the investigation on him for the past couple months,” you answer. kento meets your eyes and cocks an eyebrow, so you continue, “we met two weeks ago. i cornered him, but he escaped—”

“she let me,” satoru interjects, clearly enjoying the death glare you shoot at him a second later.

“you held a gun to my forehead,” you remind him pointedly, tapping the spot on your head where you vividly remember the cold metal resting against. 

“yeah, but i kissed it aft—”

“we’re getting off-topic,” kento interrupts, shooting you a warning glance. “detective, i’ll handle the interrogation from here.”

you hesitate, not liking how smug satoru’s expression is—but, seeing as you don’t have a choice, you dip your head in assent and exit the room. 

now that satoru’s been caught and is now in the grasp of the law, you don’t really have anything to do for the rest of the day. he was your case, and now, it looks like it’s closed, especially if your boss is the one interrogating him.

kento nanami has a reputation among law enforcement—he’s known as the stoic, serious man with a perfect record. there hasn’t been a single criminal he’s interrogated that hasn’t cracked, although the knot in your stomach tells you that this might be the first.

a sharp knock sounds on your office door, summoning you back from your train of thought. “it’s open,” you call, holding a piping hot coffee with both hands. kento opens the door and steps inside, eyebrows unusually tensed. his hands are balled into fists, too, in stark contrast to his characteristically calm demeanor. 

“something wrong?” you ask tentatively, studying your boss’s troubled eyes.

kento takes a seat in the leather chair in the corner of your office and rests his elbow on the armrest, rubbing his temples. “detective, be honest with me. what happened the night you were supposed to arrest satoru gojo?”

for the first time since satoru pinned you to the wall of a darkened alley, your heart drops. kento’s knowing eyes watch your every move, from the subtle twitch in your eye to the way your fingers tense around the cup of coffee. “what do you mean?” you ask carefully, surprised at how steady your own voice is.

“detective, don’t play games with me,” kento asserts calmly, hand casually drifting towards the side of his waist. you know him well enough to know what he’s reaching for—the same instrument that another man pressed against your forehead just two weeks ago.

despite your mind being clouded with fear and uncertainty, you manage to rationalize your way through the situation. what proof could your boss possibly have besides the word of a criminal? 

it’s your word against his—and you both know whose word kento’ll believe.

“that night, he threatened to kill me,” you start, repeating the story you told the authorities when they came ten minutes too late to catch satoru. “and he must’ve drugged me or knocked me unconscious because next thing i knew, he was gone.” your confidence grows with every word, and you start nodding as if you believe your own lies.

kento’s eyes narrow, and you force yourself to hold your poker face as he scrutinizes you and your words. three long, painful seconds of silence pass before his hand moves away from the holster strapped to his waist, and you internally sigh in relief. he stands without a word and makes to exit the room, but before he does, you risk it all. “why do you ask, sir?”

your boss pauses and turns back to you, eyebrows lifting in mild interest. he doesn’t answer immediately, and you tentatively ask, “...what did he tell you?”

kento exhales a soft huff of air, a look of dread in his brown eyes. “detective, for your own peace of mind, i assure you that you don’t want to know.”

well, fuck.

“i trust your judgement, then,” you reply, feeling your poker face start to slip away. you lift your now-cold cup of coffee to your lips and take a sip, attempting to hide the grimace that threatens to make an appearance. “have a good night, boss.”

“you too, detective. stay safe.”

“i’ll do my best.”

kento nods and heads out, and through your open window you watch him tell another one of your coworkers about how he’s planning on heading out early to make bread for his family, a gentle smile on his lips. eventually, he waves bye and exits the building.

you finish off your coffee and stand up, fishing out your key card from your pocket. you figure that you should head to the bathroom before you go home, just in case. a couple of your coworkers congratulate you when you come out of your office, praising you on the capture of your suspect. you take their compliments with a smile, ultimately wishing them a good night and escaping to the bathroom.

the door clicks shut behind you, and the comfortable quiet eases you at once. but before you can even appreciate the silence of the confined room, a sultry, familiar voice interrupts your thoughts. “aw, you weren’t gonna say bye before you left?”

you turn and your mouth drops open—standing before you, in the flesh, is the criminal you swore you last saw handcuffed to a chair.

“what the fu—”

satoru reaches out and grabs your wrist before you can scurry away or grab your phone. he pulls you into his chest, and you can feel his heartbeat against your back—at least, that’s what you notice before he clamps his hand over your mouth to stifle your yells.

“shut it,” satoru hisses, breath hot against the side of your face. he turns you towards the mirror of the bathroom so you can see how he’s holding you—one hand over your mouth, and one wrapped around your waist. “don’t try anything clever, sweetheart. i wouldn’t wanna have to hurt that pretty face of yours.”

you turn your head and glare at him furiously, cussing like a sailor against his hand. you eventually try to bite it, but your meager attack is essentially useless against his iron grip. satoru raises his eyebrows sternly and hushes you again, ice-blue eyes boring into your own. 

“i’ll answer your questions, honey, but be careful,” he pauses and nods at his pocket, where the handle of what appears to be a knife—how the fuck did he get his hands on a knife?—pokes out of the cloth. “okay, i’m gonna take my hand off your mouth now,” he murmurs, purposefully lowering his voice.

true to his word, satoru removes his hand from your mouth. you take a long breath and hesitate—again, there’s not much you can do in this situation but play along. if he’s telling the truth, you can ask questions and he can answer them, so you try your hand at getting some information and biding time. someone would have to walk in the bathroom eventually, right?

“by the way,” satoru starts, a grin curving the corners of his lips upward. “nobody’s gonna come save you, princess. the door’s locked from the inside.” he also removes his hand from your waist, letting you take a step back.

“how?” you ask suspiciously, unsure if he’s telling the truth or not.

satoru laughs—his hair falls into his eyes, and immediately shakes it away with a huff of breath. “i’m good with my hands. but you already know that, don’t ya?”

you back away towards the other side of the bathroom, where sinks line the quartz countertop. “why aren’t you still in the interrogation room?”

“you think you’re the only girl i can convince to let me go?” satoru tuts, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. he reaches into his pocket—not the one with the knife—and extracts a badge of some sort. satoru flicks it at you, and you catch it in midair. to your surprise, it’s the badge of one of your superiors who was supposed to be keeping an eye on satoru. the coy smile on satoru’s face confirms what you’re thinking, and his nod seals it the next second. 

“okay,” you say carefully, drawing out the word for a couple seconds. “how long have you been waiting here?”

“long enough,” satoru answers vaguely, not bothering to elaborate.

“thanks a lot,” you deadpan.

“nice to see that you’re still feisty—”

“and what the hell did you tell my boss?” you interrupt, suddenly remembering the dread-filled way kento had looked at you. the way your voice rises is unexpected enough to force satoru to involuntarily take a step back. it’s not much, but the step you take forward a second later to assert your position brings you a small feeling of satisfaction. after all, he’s only human—and all humans get surprised by loud noises.

satoru holds up his hands in mock surrender and eyes you skeptically. “you’re really worried about your boss’s approval, aren’t you?” he asks dryly, white hair falling into his eyes again. “heh, desperate much?”

you roll your eyes and curl your hands into fists—unfortunately, your action only seems to amuse satoru, but you ignore the little “aw” he coos and continue glaring at him. “answer the fucking question, satoru.”

“language,” he snorts. a second later, satoru cocks his head and thinks for a moment, and when his eyes land on you again he asks, “so, you’re still callin’ me satoru? cute.”

your face involuntarily heats up, and even though you’re sure satoru can tell, you pretend not to notice—again. “answer the question or i’ll scream.”

“you wouldn’t dare.”

“wouldn’t i?”

you don’t get the chance to fufill your threat, because satoru sees that you’re serious a second too early—everything’s a blur as he grabs your wrists and bunches them into one hand, firmly securing your hands behind your back. his chest rests on top of your back as he folds you over the bathroom counter, and his reflection leers at you from the mirror. “nice try, baby. but remember, you’re dealin’ with a world-class serial killer.”

“world-class? how humble of you,” you snap irritably, craning your neck to glare at satoru out of the corner of your eye. “you asshole, get off me or i’ll—”

satoru interrupts you by prodding at your lips with two of his fingers, forcing your mouth open and slipping them inside. you instantly attempt to bite him, but his fingers are so long that they trigger your gag reflex instead. “missed me, detective?” satoru coos, curling his fingers downwards and pressing on your tongue. a little whine involuntarily slips out of your lips, and satoru takes that as a yes. “yeah, i can tell,” he continues, studying your heated face in the reflection of the mirror. “i bet you couldn’t stop thinkin’ about me since that night, yeah?”

he doesn’t bother waiting for a response before he extracts his fingers and leaves you gasping for breath. you watch as satoru lifts his now-soaked fingers to his lips and runs his tongue over them, ice-blue eyes boring into your own. it’s disgusting, filthy even, but that doesn’t stop your thighs from clenching together in a futile attempt to hide your arousal from him.

“y’know, i think you’re wearing too many clothes,” satoru sighs, resting his chin on top of your head and smiling coyly. “wanna fix that for me?”

“do i have a choice?”

“no.” satoru pushes himself off of you and gives you enough space to start removing your clothes without his smothering presence. the idea of running away or screaming crosses your mind, but the serial killer’s smile makes you certain that you’d regret it—and that’s even disregarding the knife that’s still shining at you from his pocket. 

seeing as you don’t really have any other option, you slowly shrug off your coat and let it slide down your body and onto the floor. your collared shirt comes off next, followed by your pants, until there’s hardly anything shielding you from satoru’s hungry eyes. the feeling stirring in the pit of your stomach is hard to describe—it’s something like a mix between longing and fear, two emotions you hadn’t felt since that night.

and maybe, even though every instinct you have insists that this is the last thing you should be finding pleasure in, you want to feel that way again.

“you really coulda been anything in the world with that body,” satoru sighs, leaning back against a wall and taking his sweet time looking you up and down. his eyes narrow slyly as he watches you shrink away from him instinctually, and the next thing you know, he’s on you again, hands tracing over your skin and lips unbearably close to yours. “although, i guess it’s a good thing you’re a detective, ‘cause i wouldn’t have met you if you weren’t.”

you shouldn’t be agreeing with him, and as he lifts you up onto the counter, you also know that you shouldn’t be letting him do this. it goes against everything you swore to protect when you joined law enforcement, and if this ever got out—no, when it got out, you’d be the pariah of the city.

but even after thinking it through, one, two, maybe even three times, you can’t find it in your heart to care about much else than the hands pushing apart your thighs and slipping inside your shamelessly wet cunt.

“heh, how long has it been since we last did this?” satoru coos, eyes glazing over with a mixture of lust and adoration. his face is redder than you’ve ever seen it—the blush spreads all the way up to the tips of his ears, and it’s even more prominent underneath the overhead lights as he eyes you. “two weeks, right? feels like it’s been twenty.”

“do you ever shut up?” you mutter sourly, averting your eyes from satoru’s. he responds by curling up the two fingers he has inside your cunt, a mean little smile on his lips. 

“careful with that mouth of yours,” satoru warns, pushing his fingers in farther until he’s practically knuckle-deep inside of you. his thumb rests firmly against your clit, toying with the sensitive skin. “it’ll get you in trouble one day, pretty girl…” satoru withdraws his fingers in one swift motion with a soft, wet pop. he lifts his hand to his lips and licks off your slick, swiping his tongue over his fingers a couple times with a smile. “y’know what? i’ll let you go if you can do one thing for me, ‘kay?”

he waits for your response, raising an eyebrow patiently for you to catch your breath. it almost feels like deja vu, or some cheesy movie from the 90’s: the pretty little detective getting fucked by the big bad serial killer, and you know how these films always ended—not pretty.

“what?” you ask halfheartedly, expecting him to ask you to do something like erase him from the police records or sabotage the investigation. satoru cups your face with both hands, leaning in close enough for his lips to brush against yours, and his smile is almost mocking when he replies.

“suck my dick.”

part of you wants to ask “that’s it?”, but the glimmer in satoru’s knowing eyes makes you certain that he won’t make this easy for you. 

“what if i say no?” you ask tentatively. it’s a stupid question—now you’re just playing russian roulette with his rationality, and either way, you already know your decision.

the past two weeks have been torture. every waking moment of yours was spent thinking about the man you fucked, and every time you thought of his carefree smile and feather-light touch, you just felt guilty for wanting more. after all, when you first became a detective, you swore to prioritize your job and not make any personal relationships with your subjects. and yet, here you were, almost too eager to get on your knees for the serial killer who you swore to incapacitate. 

satoru shrugs nonchalantly in response to your question and not-so-subtly shoots a furtive glance at his pocket, where the handle of his knife still pokes out. “you’re a smart girl. i think you can guess, yeah?”

and that’s how you ended up with your lips wrapped around satoru’s dick for the seventh time (if you include every fantasy you’ve had about giving him head). it’s almost funny how he switches up the second you run your tongue over his blushing pink tip—his face goes red, all the way up to his ears, and the little breathy moans that slip out of his lips would be adorable in any other context but this.

“f-fuck, wasn’t expecting you to be this good,” he manages to mutter through gritted teeth, eyes fluttering open and shut. “where’d you learn to suck dick like this, heh—”

it’s been.. a while since satoru first helped you get on your knees in front of him and unzipped his pants, and even though it could’ve just been a couple minutes, it feels like this is all you’ve ever known. satoru’s ice blue eyes have barely moved from you since you started, and it looks like it’ll stay like that until you finish—or, more accurately, until he finishes.

satoru’s foot bounces on the floor as you lick a long stripe from the tip of his dick to the top of it, and the way his nails dig into his palm makes you absolutely certain that he’s close to cumming down your throat. “shit, don’t— don’t stop,” he chokes out, threading his fingers through your hair and involuntarily pushing down your head. “fuck—”

when satoru finally cums, it’s pitifully obvious—actually, it’s almost embarrassing. last time, you were the one in shambles when he was done with you, but now, it looks like it’s the other way around. his eyes flicker as they almost roll back from the sheer pleasure of you sucking him dry, and when satoru’s cum shoots out of his painfully hard dick, it’s a hot mess that leaks out of your mouth and down your chin. 

“y-yeah, good girl,” he murmurs shakily, reaching down and swiping his thumb over your cum-soaked, swollen lips. you lick off the thick, viscous liquid from his fingers instinctually, a dazed little smile on your face as you watch satoru tilt his head back towards the ceiling.

it’s interesting, seeing the city’s infamous serial killer like this. he’s leaning back against the white tile of the bathroom walls, chest heaving from his orgasm, and in that moment, you realize that his attention is on everything else but you. 

so, naturally, you stab him in the back.

not literally—that’d be a pain for your office’s custodian to clean up, but you extract the knife from satoru’s discarded pants and, before he can register the sharp object in your shaky hand, you press it to his blush-red throat. 

satoru’s hazy eyes widen in disbelief as he realizes what’s going on before they narrow in what looks almost like a mix between anger and shock. it’s stupid, foolish, and almost naive, but somewhere in your chest, it feels like a dagger pokes at your softened heart when you categorize the look in his eyes as betrayal. which is, by all accounts, entirely unreasonable—did he seriously think you wouldn’t take advantage of him like this?

at the end of the day, no matter how good the dick was, you weren’t about to sacrifice your well-paying job for a man on the run from the law.

“what the fuck?” satoru snaps, hand twitching in a movement to throw you off of him, but thankfully, the sudden shift in atmosphere heightened your instincts to a point where nothing could possibly catch you off-guard. you dig in the knife a millimeter deeper into his throat, avoiding eye contact with the man you just made cum with your mouth. “are you—”

“yeah, i am,” you assert, biding time. as much as you’d like to pretend that you’re completely in control of the situation, there’s only so long that you can hold up this stalemate. satoru’s stronger than you physically, and the second he figures out a way to handle the knife pressed to his neck, he’d get his revenge.

satoru comes to this conclusion about as fast as you did, and his lips curve upwards in a jeering smile. the look in his eyes is borderline insane when he snarls, “nobody’s gonna rescue you from me, princess. just you wait—”

and, with perfect comedic timing, the bathroom door opens, and one of your female co-workers steps in. you’ve never talked to her much, but thankfully, her instincts are even faster than yours.

what happens next goes by in a haze. your co-worker holds a gun to the side satoru’s head, and calls for backup. then, a handful of sleepy-eyed police officers haul away a cursing and fighting satoru to who-knows-where.

but just before he’s out of sight, satoru shoots you an unsettlingly calm look. and as if that wasn’t concerning enough, the last words he mouths to you are “this isn’t over.”