#who knows maybe he can curse my lungs into actually WORKING.

[avionvadion]

Just some memes about my twst experiences so far, lol.

Vil: “You worked hard getting those keys and gems. I’ll acknowledge this and reward you accordingly. With my presence. Because I am the greatest reward there is.”

Me: “So true, my queen. I am unworthy. But thank you oh my gods-“

Malleus: “You think all these gems and keys are enough to entice me? Pathetic. Send an invitation letter, and then I’ll consider it.”

Me: *crying, clinging to Vil’s legs because he’s the only one of my favorites who loves me back enough to consistently come home*

Azul: “What am I, chopped liver?”

Me: “I’M STILL MAD AT YOU FOR THE VIL THING.”

[nuumbie]

KARMA’S A DOG.

Prompt: You’re a prized worker at the IPC Marketing Department. You spend your days waiting for that flash of black.

Trigger Warning: Reader is mentally ill and a little shit head. Curse Words. General Violent Terms and Reader Gets Ragdolled. Boothill is NOT into you!!! He actually hates you! Guilt! Etc, etc… it’s just all hurt no comfort.

Author’s Note: Written to celebrate his trailer. Save a horse. Ride a cowboy. Contains spoilers regarding his character story.

He’s resting peacefully. This should still count as sleep. You pose the question in your head if you replace the pieces of something, how far until the thing is something else entirely. But he’s still alive. You find relish in that. There’s something in him that still lives.

He still has his head. Maybe, that’s all he has left of his old self. You wonder how the surgery must have gone. Of course you’ve met people who’ve changed themselves so drastically with robotics that you couldn’t recognize them after the surgeries. It’s a rebirth in ways. When you change so dramatically that you’re a different person by the end. His body’s 90% metal. 10% flesh. So, wouldn’t it be the cybernetics that win?

Despite everything. You don’t think so. Perhaps, that’s all that he needs. I think therefore I am. There’s no doubt he’s alive. Not to you, anyway. He’s brimming with human life. He’s more alive than you. Not in the same way where the question poses in your mind with other beings or creatures that change themselves so drastically. Boothill is obstinately simple.

You like that. He’s simple. The Hunt and those that follow it is straight forward. A single path. A single road. You like that you don’t have to read his intentions. You know what he wants and why.

Boothill. Galaxy Ranger. IPC Hunter. The Man who just tried to sneak into your office and put a bullet through your head like he has with many of your employees, those who’ve worked directly under you no less. You know. Most criminals don’t get this far. Not far at all past Pier Point. Oswaldo will have a riot.

If he knew he would. You’re not going to tell him.

Boothill is special.

The cowboy opens his eyes. Your personal grim reaper.

“I see you’re awake.” You smile in a loving way. If you can even manage that. People who can control their expressions make it seem so easy. Laying across his chest. You’ve opened up his core to play with his inner circuits. He must not like that though considering there’s a burning hatred in his eyes which threatens to scorch you. You glance up towards his face and sigh and ignoring the lingering, simmering, resentment. His body is heating up beneath your touch. So, maybe it resonates with his feelings, you wonder if his body steams. “We need to stop meeting like this. You’re going to make me think you’re obsessed with me.”

It’s the opposite way around. You know that. But the very idea that it isn’t causes him to lunge at you. The cowboy turns into nothing more than a blur, all the wires connected to the body collecting samples that took at least a good thirty minutes pulled from him. Some ripped from the walls, and in instants he’s on you.

“You dang—“ his hands make its way to your shoulders, you’re flipped without hesitation. his hands grasping you down, he lays on top of you. breath heavy. robots don’t breathe, though, so you try to think of another word as he catches himself and tries to make it so he’s the one on top. “— you again!?”

“I’ve been meaning to get my hands on you… you oughta’… you ANGEL!” He screeches. Music to your ears as he shakes you more like you’re more ragdoll than person. “AEONS, it’s so freaking annoying! You absolute delight! How did I lose to…”

“Thank you so much for the compliment.” You smile back. Probably the only one getting anything out of this arrangement. Pinned against the floor hand pressed tightly against your waist so you can’t struggle. He should’ve pressed it against your mouth. But it isn’t like you’re going to scream. You’re certain. Lots of women would love to be in this position you’re currently in. But it’s you. And this is far from some sweet, pure, little romantic story. You’re not delusional. You act like you are purely because it annoys him. It’s good for him to build up his rage, his discontentment because it keeps him on his toes. “I was just looking over your upgrades since the last time you invaded Pier Point. As for asking how I beat you~…”

“The electronic upgrade was not the best idea.” You smile. “If we can control your language… your body isn’t hard especially for a renowned genius like me. Have to talk to your doctor about that. You’re lucky I’m the one that found you. Where’s my thanks? If it was anyone else. They’d have torn you asunder.”

“Aeons of COURSE you Market-Phonies have something to annoy the DANGNATION out of me.” he grinds his teeth, looking around for his pistol. making a point about how dead he wants you. you can feel his grip loosen and tighten. he’s likely processing which one would get you to be quieter. “Where’d you put it? My gun. I’ve decided. I’m killing you now. Puttin’ ya out of your misery, sweet-face! You think this is rough? Think of a 9mm lead in your skull will be?”

“Cabinet.” You put on your best smile. “Is it for me?”

“Of course for you. Love you.” You didn’t take away his ability to say hate. So, he must have said something something kike an insult. You just know it’s bad because he says it in a way that’s so vitriolic it almost hurts. “You knew this was coming. I’m not going to miss my shot again. You should’ve killed me when you had the chance.”

You did know it was coming. You wished he would get the one person above you first so you could witness your boss with his brains blown out, the outcries that an Emanator of Qlipoth killed. You could have gotten wine with Diamond and laughed about it and died happy knowing the world was washed clean forever of Oswaldo Schneider.

But you can’t be so lucky. You’ll have to wish him luck. If he actually manages to kill you that is. With how things are going? You’re not making it hard.

He grabs you by the neck so you can’t struggle away to call help. The iron hands encased over your neck like a shackle isn’t a bad feeling. You almost quote as such so he might grab you a little tighter. Sadly, it seems his finger is directly over your windpipe— making talking an impossibility. He really doesn’t want you to run. Not like you would. Dragging you as he goes towards the cabinet. He presses you against the wall one-handed.

Using his other hand to peruse through your belongings. Even if you struggled. You doubt you could make a dent against the material. You’ve always been more of a pen instead of a sword guy.

It seems he’s smarter than you thought. Since, he checks the bullets in the gun. Rather show-offishly, too. He clicks the trigger against your head and nothing comes out. He counts them out, too. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.

You already knew that none of the shots would ring. But here’s a certain heart-pounding feeling even if you know it’s empty. He clutches the gun even tighter till it threatens to break between his metal appendages.

Obviously, you’ve cleaned them out. He glares at you. Of course you’re the one at fault. Of course you were smart enough to know the first thing he’d do when he woke up was try to kill you. Of course you wanted to see the look on his face when he got his gun back when he realized it was empty. “Don’t you have spares? You eat them, don’t you? Just shit them out.” You smile. It’s hard to talk with his hand on your throat.

The floor hits you. Hard.

Or maybe you hit the floor.

Either way. It hurts. Your head spins. But, you collect yourself. Maybe. Dizzy people often can’t tell they’re dizzy. “You going to kill me right? You don’t need a gun to do that. To make it painful. To get your little revenge.” You’re sputtering. Aeons. It be embarrassing if you didn’t say that. If you’re slurring. Though who are you to ask for a clean death? Innocent have died in uglier ways.

“I don’t get you.” Boothil’s boot presses against your chest and juts against your lungs— “make up your mind you wanna die or not? You’re seriously flip-flopping.”

You smile back at him from the floor. “I’d rather my employees not go down with me when you’ve got to escape. Jeremy just got a promotion. You won’t die here… will you space cowboy? So, you’ll have to make your way out.”

“Might as well limit the casualties.”

“You took everything from me.” Robots don’t stumble over their words. Robots are more precise. Everything about him is human. The way he’s so sentimental, emotional at your lap, while you can do nothing but watch. “What right do you have? You have way more blood on your hands than I do.”

“You’re not wrong.” you repeat, quietly. “It’s karma. It’s justice. I’m so happy you exist. So people like me get that just-dessert.”

“I could never ever dream of it. I could never do it with my own hands.” You smile remembering where you work. Your boss. The things you never had the confidence or strength to do yourself. “So I’m glad that you did. Thank you.”

He looks down at you.

He steps back.

You already know.

Too self-aware for your own good.

Maybe you should have shut up. You already know you’ve messed it all up. The way he looks at you is a look of disgust.

“Everyone here’s so fluffed up.” he grimaces. rubbing his shoe against the floor like he’s snuffing a cigarette out. so lowly. “Anyone the IPC touches get’s gosh-dang ruined.”

You know why he did. You ruined his life. You did. So, it was only fair he did the same in return—

Reaching out— before you realize it. “Hey, wait.”

“You’re not dragging me down with you! I want you to pay I’m not letting you off easy. When we meet again. I’ll have changed this place forever. And you’ll be forced to live with yourself…!”

He doesn’t even look back at you. You wish he did.

He lets you go and he runs out the door. You hear the sounds of loud screams. Shooting guns. It turns into a blur after a few seconds. They’re going to fail to apprehend him. You hope.

On the messy floor. Your lab a wreak. You’re sure. They’ll come here. They’ll question you.

And your life will continue as always.

You’ll lie. Jade can tell. But she won’t tell on you. You hope Oswaldo doesn’t notice. He’s the tricker.

“Fuck you, too.”

You put your hands over your eyes and you just ignore everything until someone comes and gets you. You’d use the word save. But, that’s what he was meant to do.

You’ll meet him again. You can wait. It’s all you ever do.

[ereardon]

Snowed In || Sunday [Jake Seresin x OC]

A Jake Seresin AU miniseries

Summary: When a massive storm shutters every airport in New York, you receive an unexpected call. Jake Seresin, the ex-boyfriend of your college roommate, is stranded at JFK with nowhere to go. Somehow you find yourself hosting Jake for a long weekend in your studio apartment. What happens when you realize that maybe your long-standing hatred for him was covering up something else? 

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x OC [Ella Finnley]

Trope: Forced proximity; enemies to lovers

Warnings: Cursing, references to cheating, eventual smut

Wordcount: 4.4K 

Masterlist here; Part two aka Saturday here

Jake reeled back from your slap, his face pink from the cold and the heat of your palm as it smacked his perfect tanned skin. His clear green eyes were wide with shock. 

“Ella, I—”

“No.” You shook your head, hair whipping at your cheeks. “What the fuck, Jake? You can’t run down the street like an inmate who escaped from Alcatraz and then just kiss me. You can’t spend eight years hating me and making fun of me and then turn around and say actually, no, that was all a facade, it’s because I’m a five year old boy who doesn’t know how to say he has a crush.” 

You could feel heat rising to your face despite the cold and your voice echoed off the nearby buildings. The few people who were within spitting distance turned their heads at your raised voices. 

“Are you doing this to embarrass me?” you demanded and to your horror, a small tear rolled down your cheek. You were surprised it didn’t freeze as it trailed downward. “Pretend to like me so that I fall for your charm and then when it’s over you just leave? Or maybe if I come onto you then you’ll back away and mock me. Is that it, Jake?” 

“Honey, no, absolutely not.” Jake stepped closer, holding out one hand hesitantly before pressing it to your cheek, thumb sweeping away your tears. “Ella. I meant what I said. No ulterior motives.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

Jake sighed, running his hand through his hair. The rush of cold air hit your face hard as he removed his hand. You had to give it to him. He looked distraught. If Jake Seresin, golden boy, was even capable of looking that way. “I don’t blame you,” he said after a moment. His eyes searched yours. “I’m sorry, Finn. For letting you think that I spent the last decade hating you. Couldn't be further from the truth.” 

“What’s the truth, Jake?” you gasped, air freezing in your lungs on its way down. 

“I think you know,” he whispered. 

You shook your head, backing away. “No. If there’s one thing the last twenty four hours has shown me, it’s that I don’t know you at all.” 

And then you were turning around, taking off down the street, following the path you had just chased Jake down but in reverse, eyes watering from the speed and the freezing wind whipping at your face and Jake’s voice calling after you was just a whisper that got picked up and sailed away in a gust.

You burst through the double doors of your apartment building. Gerry looked up, surprise lacing his weathered face. “Miss Ella. Everything OK?” 

You shook your head, heading for the elevators. “Do you believe in timing, Gerry?” 

“Yes, I do,” he replied as you pressed the button, finger shaking. “Met my wife at a New Year’s Eve party forty-three years ago. She was there with someone else and I was too. But it didn’t matter. It was the right place and the right time and everything since then has worked out in our favor.” 

You looked up at him. “That’s not helping, Gerry.” 

He smiled. “So he loves you.” 

“Never said that.” 

“Don’t need to say it,” he replied. “I can see it in your face.” The sound of the doors flinging open turned both of your attentions. Jake stood, barely winded, cheeks pink, eyes wide. Gerry added, “I see it in his, too.” 

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Gerry held out one hand, pressing it open. 

“Goodnight you two,” he said. “Stay warm.” 

You stepped inside. “Goodnight, Gerry.” 

Jake stepped forward slowly, entering the elevator, his eyes trained on you, your eyes glued to the buttons on the far right wall. It was an agonizing ride up in silence. The heat from Jake’s gaze alone was enough to thaw you and by the time the two of you had ridden up five floors you were a melted puddle. 

After you unlocked the door and stepped inside, Jake stood, hesitating, on the threshold. 

You frowned. “What?”

He sighed. “I’ll leave, Ella. I’ll get out of your hair. But I just need to say one more thing.” 

“Where would you go?” you demanded. “It’s midnight and the city is practically shut down, Seresin.” 

Jake put his hands in his pockets. “I bought a unit in One57 last month.”

Your jaw went slack. One57 was one of the unbelievable skyscrapers on 57th Street aka Billionaires’ Row. It’s the most expensive building in the city, towering over the base of Central Park. Your eyes narrowed. “You’re fucking with me.” 

“I’m not.” 

“How could you afford that?” you demanded. “You can’t even afford a hotel.”

Jake smiled sadly. “Ella. I never said I couldn’t afford a hotel. I said you were my only option.” 

“That wasn’t true then,” you replied. “You have a fucking twenty million dollar condo sitting forty blocks north of here that’s probably filled with furniture that you’re not allowed to touch.” 

“It was partially true,” Jake said. His voice was much calmer than yours. His eyes were soft. Begging. This was Jake Seresin begging, you realized. “I spent years thinking that you were the one that got away, Ella. I had to come back and make sure of it.” 

Your breath caught in your throat. “And?” 

Jake stepped closer, crossing the threshold into the apartment. “Ella Finnley. I’ve enjoyed myself more the last two days than I have in the last five years. I came back because I thought that maybe there was a chance you’d be able to see me more as more than the douchebag that I was in college. That maybe you would be willing to look past who we were and focus on who we are now. You don’t know this, but I never stopped thinking about you.”

All you could feel was your heartbeat in your chest, the pulsing in your fingertips and neck and near your ear. Was this really happening?

“You’re intelligent and you’re so fucking sarcastic and you don’t take anyone’s bullshit and I couldn’t believe that when you opened the door on Friday that it was really you and that someone else hadn’t scooped you up years ago. And I thought maybe this was it. Maybe this was my chance to be happy.” 

“You’re rich,” you whispered, the words still sinking in. “You’re telling me that you, Jake Seresin, aren’t fulfilled?” 

He shook his head. “None of that shit matters, Ella. The money, the cars, the nice restaurants, the fancy clothes. You get sick of it after a while. I���d rather come home to this apartment every single night and sit on that uncomfortable couch with you and watch you read romance novel after romance novel and eat ramen noodles than go home to an empty apartment overlooking the park. Any fucking day.” 

“Jake.”

“It’s OK,” he whispered. “You don’t feel the same and I get that. Maybe I was stupid to try.” 

You stepped forward, closing the gap between the two of you, your chest practically grazing his as you breathed unsteadily. He was so fucking beautiful that it made you uncomfortable. “You are stupid,” you replied and Jake grinned. “That was never a question."

“I’ll get out of your hair,” he murmured, “and you’ll never have to see me again if you just answer one question.” 

“What is it, Seresin?” 

“Do you believe I changed? If not for you, just in general? Because that’s all I ever wanted, Ella. To be the kind of guy who was good enough.” 

You looked at him. How many times had you snuck sidelong glances at Jake Seresin while he and Suzannah were together? He was hot, even back then. Bronzed, muscular but not beefy, sweet Southern accent rendering anything he said charming with a side of cocky. Maybe you had only told yourself that you hated him because it was better than admitting the alternative. 

That you wanted Jake Seresin. But he hadn’t been yours to have. 

And now here he was, standing in front of you, begging for a chance. Asking if you saw his growth and change. Admitting that he had spent years of his life bettering himself so that one day he could stand in front of you a changed man and receive a simple acknowledgement. 

“Ella,” Jake whispered. “Tell me to go and I’ll go. I think this was a mistake.” 

“The mistake would be leaving before you convinced me why I should give you a chance to start with.” 

Jake smiled. “Convince you, huh?” 

You nodded. “I don’t know if you know this about me, Seresin, but I’ve been known to be stubborn.” 

“Is that so?” 

“It is,” you said slowly, reveling in the way Jake’s gaze never left yours. “So go on, Seresin. Why should I believe anything you’ve said in the last thirty minutes? How do I know it’s not some elaborate prank?” 

“You don’t,” he said. “None of us do, Finn. Life is a big cosmic joke. I’m just doing what we’re all doing. Trying to find that one person to spend your life with. Trying to find the person who makes you excited to get out of bed, the person you can’t get out of your head. The one person who sees you after everything you’ve done and still sees your potential, even when it was a bad day. The person who wants to celebrate with you on the good ones, too. The person who has more faith in you than you have in yourself.” 

“That’s a lot to put on a person, Jake,” you whispered. 

“I know it is, honey,” he murmured, raising one hand, skimming it along your cheek. “I can’t expect you to feel all those ways about me. Especially since up until yesterday I think you hated me. But tell me the truth. Do you feel differently about me right now, standing here, compared to yesterday when I showed up at this same doorstep?” 

“Yes.” It was automatic, the way the word tumbled out of your mouth.

He grinned. “Then anything is possible, Finn.” 

“You mean falling in love with you, Seresin?” 

“Maybe.” 

You shook your head, laughing. “You’re still cocky.”

“I’m working on it,” he murmured, hand sliding from your cheek, fingers wrapping slowly around your neck, thumb pressed tightly under your ear. “What do you say, Finn? Want to give me a chance?” 

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” you said softly, closing the gap between the two of you as Jake’s fingers on your neck tightened and suddenly his lips were on yours, his hand on your waist bending you backward from the force of his kiss. Jake swiveled you around, closing the door with one hand, pressing you against the wall both gently and firmly at the same time, his free hand locked behind your head, cushioning you. 

Jake slotted one thigh between your legs, pressing upwards gently until you found yourself moaning into his mouth as he grinned. “Fuck,” he murmurred, pulling back two inches, resting his forehead against yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about that.” 

“Ten minutes,” you replied. 

Jake pulled back further, shaking his head, tracking one thumb pad over your swollen bottom lip. “Ella. Try ten years.” 

“Jake,” you murmured. 

He shook his head. “It’s OK if you don’t feel the same way,” he said quietly. “But if you want to stop, tell me and we stop.” 

You reached out and grabbed his collar, tugging him back in. “Don’t stop.” 

And then Jake’s mouth was on yours, his hands roaming over your chest and settling on your waist, pulling you in tightly before reaching down and hoisting you into his arms as you giggled. You didn’t even care that Jake’s shoes were tracking dirty snow into the apartment or that your jacket was brushing against the comforter as Jake sat you down gently on the edge of the bed. He stepped back, shrugging off his jacket and kicking off his shoes and you did the same, pulling your sweater overhead, locking eyes with Jake as you unbuttoned your jeans, shimmying out of them before settling back on the bed in a pair of lacy black panties and a matching bra. “Fuck,” he murmurred, closing the gap between the two of you, his mouth hot on your neck as his fingertips pressed against your side. “God, you’re gorgeous.” 

 “You going to compliment me all night, Seresin?” 

Jake pulled his lips from where they had slid down to the tops of your breasts. “Yes,” he said confidently. “And you’re going to like it.” 

You flushed. “Then at least take your pants off.” 

Jake smirked, standing up and unbuttoning his pants, sliding them off. With one hand he grabbed the back of his shirt behind his neck, tugging it overhead in a single motion. You couldn’t help it. You gasped. Jake Seresin looked like a marble carving that would sit in the Louvre. 

He was stunning. 

Jake leaned in, shifting you further onto the bed, his lips grazing your breasts before dipping lower, trailing a wet line of kisses down to your navel. “Like what you see?” 

“Shut up,” you groaned, but the words turned into a string of moans as Jake’s mouth landed on your panties, warm breath heating between your legs. He knelt on the floor next to the bed in his tight briefs, fingertips scraping along your sides, one hand squeezing your breast before he slid the silky material to the side, exposing your soaking core. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, leaning back to admire you. 

“Jake,” you whined, and he felt his heart start to rapidly beat in his chest. 

“I got you,” he murmured, sinking down, pressing his lips to your core, tongue darting out, spreading flat against your folds, tasting you for the first time. He hummed against you and you wiggled, but his hands held your hips steady, tugging you forward, consuming you. He was everywhere: his mouth on your clit, his tongue in your folds, his fingertips dragging along your hip bone under one sank deep inside of your walls, curling at the top, beckoning you to come. 

And you did. Unraveling at his touch, your moans filling the air as Jake plunged his fingers inside of your wet cunt, tongue lapping at your folds until you cried out. “Fuck!” 

Jake stood, hands still on your thighs as your chest heaved. Finally you pushed yourself up onto your elbows. There was an obvious tent in Jake’s tight black briefs. 

You smirked. “Want some help with that?” 

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours harshly, with one arm scooting beneath you and tossing you to the top of the bed as you let out a yelp. “You’re going to be the death of me, Finn,” he murmured, lips suctioned to your neck as you lifted your hips, brushing your soaking core against his hips. He was hard and you were desperate for him, your hand reaching out and grabbing him. Jake’s head collapsed against your neck as you smoothed your fingers over his bulge. “Fuck, Ella,” he whispered, voice thick and husky. “God, I want to be inside you so badly.” 

You pulled your hand away, shimmying off your underwear. “I need you.” 

Jake sat up. His green eyes were wide. “Sweetheart. You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those words come out of your mouth.” 

“Don’t make me beg, Seresin,” you whispered. 

“Wouldn’t dare.” 

Jake crawled out of his boxers and you had to stifle a gasp. His cock was thick and long, practically dripping with anticipation. He pulled your legs so your hips were closer to where he was kneeling on the bed, running the tip of his cock along your folds as you whimpered. 

“Condom,” he muttered.

“Top drawer.” 

Jake leaned over, opening the box as you undid the hooks on your bra, flinging it onto the floor in the living room. He sat back, seamlessly rolling a condom over his cock, fisting himself a few times, eyes trained between your legs. Finally, Jake lifted his gaze to you, hand still sliding up and down his length as he panted. “I’ve thought about this so many times.” 

“Please,” you whispered and Jake hinged forward, sliding the head of his cock against your entrance until it hooked inside of you, pressing in slowly as you moaned. “God, yes, oh, fuck!”

“Doing so good,” he murmured as your legs spread further to accommodate him. “Almost there baby.” 

Jake pushed the final inch in, stuffing you full. Your eyes flew open. Jake had one hand pressed to your cheek, the other resting on your leg, pulling it higher over his hip. Your mouth opened as he pulled back, pushing into you again, setting a soft, delectable rhythm. It was just you and Jake and the sounds of your body slowly coming together and backing away, over and over as his cock brushed your inner walls, begging you to come against him. 

“God you feel so perfect,” he groaned, fingertips pressing your thigh back further, letting his cock slide deeper inside of you. “I could live in your pussy.” 

You cried out as Jake brushed against your g-spot. He shifted his hand to your clit, pressing down gently and your eyes widened, Jake’s hips snapping against yours as his fingertips swirled on your swollen clit. “Oh, my God,” you breathed.    

“Come for me, please,” he begged, chest glistening with sweat as he thrust harder into you. “Please, baby, need to feel you coming while I’m inside of you.” 

“Oh, oh fuck!” you screamed as Jake pressed down, hard, against your clit, your vision going white for a split second as you broke apart along his length, shuddering, cursing as Jake grabbed your hips, driving his cock against your fluttering walls. 

“Ella, oh fuck! Jesus Chris, I’m gonna come!” And then he was filling the condom inside of you, collapsing so his chest was pressed against yours, his hips stuttering as he tried to slow his rhythm. “Fucking hell,” Jake whispered, rolling off of you gently, tugging off the condom and disposing it. He turned back, running one hand up your side. “You’re perfect.” 

And even though you were two orgasms deep, it had been almost a year since you had been touched before Jake. So when you leaned in to kiss him and his cock twitched against your bare leg, you smiled, pulling away. 

“What’s that look, Finn,” he asked. 

“Lay back,” you whispered, raking your fingertips down Jake’s rock hard abdomen, his cock already hardening against his thigh. 

“Oh, shit,” Jake muttered as you leaned down, taking his length into your hand, dribbling a ball of split onto the tip, massaging it over the head of his cock with the pad of your thumb. He laid back, eyes squeezed shut as you took him into your mouth, Jake’s fingers buried in your hair as he gasped, releasing himself against your throat, filling your mouth. When you pulled back, swallowing, wiping one thumb over your lips, his eyes fluttered open and he shook his head. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” 

After showering, the two of you fell into a tangle on the bed. 

“This is so much better than the couch,” Jake whispered. 

“Go to sleep, Seresin,” you complained, his hand spread warm against your lower stomach. 

Jake pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder. 

Sometime just before sunrise, you woke up and looked over. Jake looked peaceful, golden hair spread out on the white pillowcase, one arm slung over the side of the bed, slumping down toward the ground, bare back and ass cheek visible from where he had thrown the covers off. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined you’d be asleep, naked, next to Jake Seresin. That you would be able to tolerate being alone with him at all. 

But two days had changed everything. 

***

The sound of yelping woke you up a second time. The room was bright, light streaming in from the windows. You couldn’t tell yet if it was the brightness of snow or the winter sun blaring through. 

Next to you, the bed was empty. 

There was the yelp again, coming from the kitchen. Jake emerged a minute later wearing a pair of boxers but no shirt, carrying two cups of coffee. The minute he saw you sitting up, the covers pulled up around your bare chest, he grinned. “Morning Finn.” 

“What are you doing in there?” you asked. 

“Frying bacon,” Jake replied, setting down the coffee mugs on the nightstand to your right. Just as you raised your nose to sniff in the air, he grabbed your face with both hands, landing a kiss right on your lips. As if it was the most normal thing in the world. Like the two of you had woken up together for a hundred weekends in a row. When he pulled away, you felt your breath catch. Was this what it was supposed to be like? “Stay there,” he commanded. “And don’t you dare get dressed.” 

You leaned back, the sheets tucked beneath your arms, and grabbed one of the coffee cups as Jake scurried back to the kitchen. A few more yelps later and he emerged with a plate of bacon, two muffins and scrambled eggs. “Where did you get this?” you asked, picking up a piece of bacon and sliding it into your mouth. “Fuck that’s good.” 

“Snuck out while you were snoring.” 

You slapped his bicep and he chuckled. Jake was so muscular it didn’t even affect him. You let your fingers linger there for a moment before pulling them away. “I don’t snore.” 

“You do,” Jake said, a piece of bacon sticking out of his mouth. “It’s cute.” 

“No snoring is cute.” 

“Anything you do, Ella Finnley, is adorable.” A blush crept up your neck toward your face. You realized for a moment you had no makeup on. You couldn’t remember the last time you were this close to a man without makeup on. 

“Wait.” You frowned. “You went out this morning?” Jake nodded. “What about the snow?” 

“It’s gone.” 

“What!” You rushed out of bed, practically tripping on a corner of the rug, smashing your hands against the window. 

Jake was right. The streets which the night before had been layered with snow, were clear. Instead, they had been replaced by the usual threads of traffic: honking taxis and black town cars and every Toyota under the sun filled with Uber drivers. The sidewalks were congested once again. 

It was like the storm had never happened. 

You looked over at Jake, eyes wide. That was it. The magic of the snow was gone, replaced by the smell of the subway steam hot on the grates and hordes of pedestrians cluttering Fifth Avenue. 

Jake got out of bed, grabbing his henley shirt from where it was folded on his suitcase and handing it to you. You blushed, realizing for the first time that you were butt ass naked, standing in the middle of the room. The shirt was soft as you pulled it overhead and smelled like Jake: coffee, cinnamon, vetiver. The sleeves were long and you balled the excess fabric into your fists. 

This was the part of the movie where the princess turned back into a pumpkin. 

“Jake, I—”

“I’m staying,” he said, his words overlapping yours. 

“What?” 

“In New York. I’m leaving San Francisco,” he said. “That’s why I’m here. I’m moving my company’s headquarters out of the Bay and into the city.” 

“Company?” 

“I own FreeTek.” 

Your head felt heavy. Congested. FreeTek was one of those Forbes 100 companies. The kind with billion-dollar valuations and IPOs that they had billboards for in Times Square. It was a tech company that also helped to build schools in Africa and Central America. 

Your eyes boggled. Jake reached out, one hand cupping your neck gently. “Ella. I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”

“We don’t even know each other, Jake,” you replied. “You’re just some guy that my roommate used to fuck.” 

He looked hurt, lips pressed into a line. “We know enough,” he said. “And what we don’t know, we’ll learn.” 

“It’s not that simple.” 

“It could be.” 

“Fuck, Seresin, I don’t know, OK. Two days ago I hated your guts.” You looked up at Jake and he chuckled. “One really good fuck can’t change everything.” 

“Really good, huh?” 

“Don’t be so proud,” you said. “It had been a while. I probably would have gone home with Raji, the bodega guy in about a week if you hadn’t come along.” 

“Does Raji kiss you like this?” And then Jake’s lips were on yours, his hands traveling down your back, pulling you in tight, holding your chest to his. 

When the two of you broke apart, he brushed the hair from your face before letting go, taking a step back. 

“I waited ten years, Finn,” he said softly. “What’s another week or another month?” 

“What do you think is going to happen in a week or a month?” you asked. 

Jake grinned. “You’ll realize the fairytale doesn’t end here, Ella. You and me, that’s how this story ends.” 

You shook your head, reaching out, wrapping your arms around Jake’s neck, tugging him in close. “God you’re a conceited dick, aren’t you?” 

“Yes.” 

You rolled your eyes as Jake smirked. “Alright, prince charming. Let’s go see this palatial apartment of yours.” 

Jake slipped his arms around your waist. “Is it bad I’m hoping there’s another storm so I can trap you inside again and have you all to myself for another weekend?” 

You looked outside. The sky was perfectly clear. Blue skies and small puffy clouds as far as the eye could see beyond the buildings. It was as if the snowstorm had never happened. 

And then, so fast if you had blinked you would have missed it, a snowflake drifted in your field of vision, hovering in the air outside your fifth-story window. 

You grinned. “Be careful what you wish for, Seresin.” 

Jake kissed the top of your head.   

Tag list [using my list from The Off-Season since it's my most up-to-date Jake list but if you're not interested in these types of fics just let me know!):

@double-j @topguncultleader @momc95 @hangmandruigandmav

@teacupsandtopgun @xomrsalliej4787xo @xoxabs88xox @blue-aconite @seresinhangmanjake @eminyourjeans @shawnsblue @babyminghao @sadpetalsstuff @angelbabyange @taytaylala12 @wkndwlff @mygyn @oneelleandaneye @averyhotchner @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @rxmtoon @valkyrja-siren-blog @horseshoegirl @abaker74 @clancycucumber230 @theharddeck @redbarn1995 @shanimallina87

@memeorydotcom @joaquinwhorres @bobfloydsbabe @gretagerwigsmuse @djs8891

@blackcatdhisgf @buckysteveloki-me  @eli2447 @bellaireland1981 @seresinslady @hookslove1592 @shotclock24seconds @fanficfandomlove @ryebecca @onceupona-happilyeverafter-love @t8r-tots

[okkotsuus]

MARTYRDOM (satoru g.) !

features: satoru gojo

contents: MAJOR SPOILERS (236 to 261). death. major character death. heavy angst. grief. crying. blood. bile mentioned. self-inflicted wound (knuckles). set in sukuna raid. hurt no comfort. some fluff if you go blind. i'm sorry. 1.8k words

notes: i'm actually gonna commit i hate gege so much. @saexy because ur my fav and u have to suffer with me! <333

the december air has always found a way to work it's chill deep into your bones. it makes your teeth chatter and a trill run up your spine. but there was an unusual heat burning in your sinuses.

sitting in the observation deck, huddled around a projection of the battlefield with the few people who understood what was actually happening in the world. your eyes burn, having been too devoted to whatever image was displayed to take a second to breathe. lungs stuttering and beginning to claw up your throat for single shred of air.

but you don't move.

no.

you cannot move.

there's a faint ringing in your ears, pounding louder and louder until a scream rips through the deafening silence. you don't even recognize it as your own, nor do you feel your kneecaps colliding harshly with the stone floor.

there he is. satoru gojo. the man you have loved for as long as you can remember. unmoving.

oh.

wait...

he just moved.

false alarm. it was just the top half of his body falling from the world-cutting slash that sukuna had just used to kill the strongest sorcerer of the modern age.

hot tears run down your face as your body moves instinctively to try to shatter the screen, held back by the clammy hands of kusakabe. your chest heaves in a gasping breath, only drawn in to fuel the wails erupting from your throat.

out of the corner of your eye, you can see yuta wincing, eyes drawn away from the scene of you crumbling. no one speaks, seemingly just as shocked as you. yet no one else cried.

it feels as if you are the only one left out of an unknown message, a warning that foretold of the events playing out in front of you.

because why would they tell you?

weak, pathetic, non-sorcerer you. you who can only see cursed spirits when in high stress because of an unfortunate accident with a sorcerer as a child. you who has no cursed technique, no ability to even harness your own cursed energy in basic imbuing. you who was possibly the weakest, the only one crying for the strongest.

teeth scrape against your tongue as the metallic taste of iron begins to fill your senses, going limp in kusakabe's hands. he lets go. your ears ring, the sounds of their hushed, urgent whispers escaping you.

you see yuta leave out of the corner of your eye, it doesn't register. you watch, numb, as kashimo and hakari charge into battle. the electric reincarnation is killed like fodder the second sukuna takes flesh.

for a long while, your sight is blurry, phasing in and out of reality in moments, recalling everything you loved about satoru gojo.

"satoru, who do you always wear your sunglasses when your not at work?" your voice asks, much softer and higher, a memory of youth. the two of you are maybe nineteen years old: young and stupid.

the white-haired man's blue gaze peeks over the rim of black lenses, confusion evident. then he remembers that you aren't like him, you don't know what it's like to constantly see filth crawling the streets. sweet y/n who doesn't even know that there's a flyhead buzzing around the room like a gnat.

you're untainted by this world, not ruined by jujutsu. you know it exists, only because of him and a run-in with a sorcerer when you were eight. but you don't know what it's like, and you never will: which is the greatest blessing satoru could ever wish you to have.

"i just like how they look, i am a natural beauty after all." he hums, eyes rolling as a grin parts his pink lips. because if he could help it, you wouldn't ever have to know what the world was truly like.

a clamor disrupts your thought, hearing shoko rushing out of the room. your eyes widen, stumbling shakily to your feet, catching your balance against the wall. maki mumbles something to try to get you to say, but you don't hear her.

chasing after the sound of peach-heels clicking against tiled floor, you catch a glimpse of white hair under a bloodied sheet. then a stainless steel door is slammed shut.

"shoko, please, let me see him..." you plea, hand fumbling with the knob, only to find the exam room locked. tears burn hot behind your eyes, sweaty palms pressing against the cold metal: fogging it up. your heart stops as you realize the possibility that gojo planned for his death.

deep down in your heart, you knew he wouldn't let himself rest, even when his life had long-departed his corpse. it makes you desperately knock against the door, mind remembering the pseudo geto that had trapped satoru in the prison realm.

"shoko, you can't do this to him, you can't just use him like this. you of all people should know what this means..!" your voice is shaky, panic rising in your veins as you remember the night staoru shared his broken heart with you.

"what kind of question is that? you can be both." your voice is older now, aged twenty-seven. white hair is strewn over your thighs, deft fingers carding through snowy tresses. satoru hums, eyes closing.

he reaches up, finger flicking teasingly against your forehead. "no one but you thinks that, angel. to the world, i am either 'the strongest' or 'satoru gojo.' that is simply how it works for me." his tone was even, nonchalant even. as if this was a reality he had co,e to terms with through a long life of turmoil.

a pout curls your lips downwards, looking into pools of serene blue as satoru stares right back up at you. a sigh puffs from your lips, hunching over to press a kiss against his forehead, pushing strands of ivory out of your way.

"to me, you'll always be my 'toru..."

memories fade away like dust in the wind when the clatter of metal jars you back into reality. it'ls likely shoko setting her instruments against her steel tray, likely preparing to operate on the corpse of the man you have never been able to love as much as you wished.

"shoko, please. please let him be human before being 'satoru gojo' or 'the strongest,' let him rest." the words fall from your lips like a prayer, desperation dripping in your tone. sinking to your knees, back pressed against the door, head in your hands. "you know i can't do that, y/n..."

the world moves to fast to allow grief to process. and fate was a cruel mistress. she had a penchant for kicking the weak while they were already down. which was why yuta okkotsu was being rushed behind the door you were restricted from entering: a large laceration running diagonally along his stomach.

the same wound that killed satoru, simply shallower.

but the difference was that yuta was conscious and alive.

he met your eyes for a moment, a weak smile on his face. and that same steel door was slammed against you once again. but you heard what the boy had said before it clicked shut and locked.

and the words shattered you further, if at all possible.

"i'm sorry, y/n, i'll try to bring him back to you in one piece."

it was so quiet, so faint, so soft that you just barely heard him. but it sent a wave of heat through your body, fists pounding against the steel with a reckless abandon, no matter the blood smearing over it, nor the pain pulsing from your knuckles.

deep down, you knew what was about to happen.

a part of you knew the second they retrieved gojo's body. you weren't enough of a fool to think it was simply for a proper burial. but the foolish part of your heart wanted to believe it so desperately.

you didn't need to speak, heavy sobs coming out of you, throat rubbed raw from screaming far too much in far too little time. they were going to stuff a child: yuta into your sweet satoru's body. like some sort of marionette puppet. just so the man could die for them twice.

"why did you start teaching, satoru?" again, younger, stupider, twenty five and beginning to thrive. he looks up from the small stack of papers in his hand, legs kicked up on his desk: the least teacher-like way to sit.

for once, he's serious, blue eyes looking straight through you, as if you weren't even there. it sent a chill up your spine, frozen in place. the man hums, eyes closing in thought and you can finally breathe.

finally he speaks, voice certain and doubtless. "i am going to teach the next generation of jujutsu, so that they will never have to bear the burden of being the strongest alone. and one day, they will succeed me. no one should be allowed to take youth away from young people."

you recognize the familiar look in his eyes, one that trancended this plane: that went beyond his own mortality. satoru gojo had never once been afraid of death, as if the concept entirely was foreign to him.

he doesn't react when he burns his hand on the stove, just running it under cold water and returning to what he was doing. he doesn't see a crash and think how it easily could've been him. he doesn't feel his throat begin to close up when death is narrowly avoided.

it was as if satoru gojo had known he would die a martyr since the moment he was born.

and there was a possibility he did.

footsteps without the click of a heel sound behind the door, sending bitter bile up your throat that burns against the rawness from your wails. tears well up instinctively, as if to blur your vision to prevent you from seeing what you knew was inevitably coming.

the lock clicks open, and you nearly die.

there stands satoru gojo, the same as before he left this morning.

but everything is wrong.

the way he stands. the rhythm he draws breath. the order his eyes scan over your face. the pattern he steps in. the way his hands feel when grasping yours.

"i'm sorry, miss y/n, but the fate of the world rests on this."

it was all wrong.

you couldn't even bare to look satoru- no. yuta in the eyes, knowing you'd have to see yourself in those crystalline irises, and you'd have to see the state that the world's treatment of your one and only left you in.

okkotsuus 24

[stellamancer]

hey lonely stranger (won't you meet my eye?) — extra scene

note: this is less an extra scene and the other side of part of a scene. i was going to put it in parenthesis like that one bit in lip smackless, but didn't pan out. also thanks to @/namodawrites for helping me double check gooj characterization since my regular beta was playing bg3 LMAO.

wc: 663

Satoru is used to your denial. When you're with him, it's part of who you are— ingrained into your soul, hard-written in your body like a cursed technique. He finds that he doesn't mind all that much. It's kind of entertaining, really, especially when he's realized how much you are at odds with yourself when you reject him. 

You constantly deny him and yet you are more aware of him than you are of anyone else. 

It's honestly hilarious.  

So, the relief that fills his lungs when you say those three words, when you air your denial, albeit not for him for once, surprises him a little. Satoru can say, with the utmost confidence that there was absolutely no way that you were into that guy, even if he made you genuinely laugh, even if he was the first person you sought out when you got the chance. He only asked you again to give you the chance to make peace with the truth. 

Besides, if you're going to be into anyone then it would have to be—

You're not looking at him. Your gaze is turned away from him, distant and unfocused. It's like your thoughts are wandering the night sky, drifting into the cosmos. You let the words out but are you thinking about it still? A happy, normal love? He thinks you would know better than to think you can find it lurking among the stars. 

Not when you can find it here on earth.

With him.

You're not looking at him, but Satoru wants you to. He wants you to look at him. Not at the sky, not at the stars, not at some stranger who doesn't have a place in your present, let alone your future. 

At him. 

Satoru knows you would hate it if you knew, if you realized, but it is so easy to get your attention, to draw in your gaze. All he has to do is say the right thing (or maybe it'd be more appropriate to call it the wrong thing) and your eyes will be on him in an instant, your gaze fiery and intense. 

"You know," he says, amused at the thought of the expression you're going to make. "Even though I was obviously the hottest person in the room, you looked pretty good yourself."

It's not a lie. It's clear that you went all out for this event, taking great care in making sure you looked your best— dressed in clothes much nicer than anything he's seen you work in. Satoru's even willing to bet you tried your damndest to actually get a full night's rest. 

His words work like a charm and you whip your head to face him. The look on your face is interesting; dazed, amazed. He's not familiar with this expression of yours and he leans in to get a better look. Without thinking about it, he reaches for your cheek, his fingers stopping short of your skin. For a split second, your eyes flit toward his hand, clearly aware of how close he is to touching you. Satoru's eyes trail down to your lips and he wonders if you've been using the lip balm he gave you. It looks like you have, with how soft and plush your lips look, but he should make sure— he wants to make sure. 

It's then your denial, your rejection comes out in full force. You take a step back and next thing Satoru knows you're falling into the water. 

Huh. He thought for sure this time you would have accepted a kiss from him. 

It's okay, he thinks, it's only a matter of time. Besides, the view of you right now, stunned and almost mortified is a worthwhile trade. 

It's actually hilarious. 

He starts laughing and you give him your usual scowl, splashing at him in retaliation. He doesn't mind, he'll let you have that much because one day, one day soon he'll get that kiss from you. 

[mrs-weasley-reid]

SAVORY KISS•••

Spencer Reid x bau!reader

Synopsis: a lot of things happened last night, but a shared drunken kiss between you and Spencer had your mind panicking Word Count: 2k+ WARNING: bit of an overdramatic reader (i've seen ppl act that way tho so if you don't like it, you can cry scroll away). few curses. fluff and angst if you squint. A/N: first ever spencer fic, be nice pls, English is not my first language sooo lol

"Shit."

You sat up on your bed, a hand smacking your forehead following suit. You could feel the heat that rushed to your cheeks, a shade of red tinting your skin. You woke up from a dream, a nightmare. Oh, who were you kidding? It wasn't any of those. It was an actual event that happened barely twelve hours ago.

"Oh my god," The hand on your forehead pushed the loose strands of hair off your face. "I kissed Spencer." You whispered under your breath, afraid that someone would hear you. Your fingers carefully graze your lips as the event from last night flashes in your mind.

It wasn't just a kiss. You made out with him. Hands in his soft, curly hair. Your body pressed against his. And your lungs were out of air.

You slammed your back on the mattress, wiggling around as if you were having a seizure. "This can't be happening!" You rolled over, wrapping your blanket around your body. Your hands smacked your face in hopes that you were just dreaming.

However would you face Spencer? Face your co-worker? Your teammate? If you weren't such a liquor fanatic last night, you wouldn't be in this situation.

The sound of your alarm startled you, reading seven in the morning. You dragged yourself out of bed, dreadfully preparing yourself for work.

Your travel to the bureau office took ten minutes at the most, and you could walk it for thirty minutes, but today, you wanted someone to do God's will and crash their car into yours on your way to work.

With a to-go cup of coffee in hand and a scowl in your throat, you pushed the glass door open to the bullpen.

Emily was the first to greet you, "I drank more than you did. How are you looking like a storm just passed you?" She chuckled, sipping in her second dose of coffee.

Your eyes blew wide, and you dragged her to the side. "I'm going to kill myself." You started in a whisper.

"Damn, I know I did it once, but I don't go around giving advice on how to do it." Emily looked up and shrugged. "Okay, yeah. I do tell people how to fake their deaths, but it's too early for that. Maybe at lunch?"

You shook your head, "No! I did something stupid."

She grinned, "How stupid are we talking about?"

"Stupid, as in kissing Spencer!" You hissed, looking around to ensure he was nowhere near earshot.

"Oh," Emily rolled her eyes. "Kiss? More like ate his face."

"Oh, my, god," You couldn't believe what you had just heard, making you ask the obvious. "You saw?"

Emily bobbed her head sheepishly, blowing on her coffee in a satisfying manner. "I didn't just see. I watched it."

"That doesn't make me feel any better, you psycho." You growled, pushing her shoulder lightly. She laughed at the act, giving you kissy faces.

"Why are you even freaking out? You've been crushing on boy genius for months now. You finally got to taste his minty fresh breath you've been daydreaming about." She snorted.

You glared at her. How could she be entertained by your dilemma? And you sighed at the question. You'd be more surprised if she wasn't.

"I know I talk about jumping on Spencer and ravishing him like a wild animal all the time, but—" You ignored Emily's widened eyes and subtle cough to stop you from talking. "—I at least want to do that when I'm sober and not in a drunken fashion."

The sound of metal crashing on the sink made you shut your mouth. You wanted to further sew it shut when you heard a soft 'sorry' behind you, immediately recognizing the owner of the voice.

You closed your eyes agonizingly, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Please, kill me now." You begged Emily. Your voice was almost inaudible.

She raised her hand in defense, "I made an oath not to use my gun for leisure."

You took a deep breath and turned to face Spencer with a crooked smile, "Hey."

"Uh," Spencer's ears were red, hesitantly picking up the spoon. "Right, yeah. Hey!" His voice hitched, and Emily's snort didn't pass your ears.

"I'm gonna give you two some privacy," Emily made eye contact with you. "Call me when you're about to make out again." She taunted and dashed away before you could even smack her shoulder.

You smiled and sighed. Nothing else could make things worst than this. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to hear that." You held your hands together, anxiety coursing through your veins.

Spencer looked away, feeling his face combust under your gaze.

Everybody knew how brave you were. Despite facing serial killers, you kept stable eye contact. Even Hotch sometimes felt nervous whenever you held his gaze as he lectured you.

For Spencer, it was your charm and also the death of him. You wanted to do what to him? His mind was spinning. He kept it to himself, maybe with Derek, who caught him staring at you once, but he tried his best to hide his attraction to you.

From the moment you made a joke of kissing Emily because shaking hands wasn't a thing from where you came from to last night, where you stared at him straight in the eye and ordered him to kiss you, he was whipped, and he knew it.

He didn't know what to do, and frankly, he was more concerned about you hearing his heartbeat than your statement regarding him. "No, no. I should be the one apologizing. I should've not eavesdropped on your conversation."

A bright laugh escaped you, "Spence, we were talking in the break area. It's everyone's space. Besides, I wasn't being silent either." The nickname rolled out of your tongue beautifully, and you liked it. You loved how the elongated end gathered suspense, whether you would say his name entirely or leave it at that.

Spencer gripped his mug at the use of his nickname, by you, of all people. "Right." He swallowed the air in his throat, forming a tight-lipped smile.

"Okay, then." You tapped the counter offbeat, clearing your throat. "I'll see you around." You bid farewell and marched to your desk.

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

Spencer hated elevators. It suffocated him, more so that you were with him, silently humming to yourself as you fought the anxiety boiling in your stomach.

You didn't avoid Spencer, at least not directly. A smile here and there when you bumped into each other and even managed to converse about one of your last cases without melting into a puddle on the linoleum floor.

You did, however, twist your ankles 180 degrees when you saw Spencer approaching, only when he hadn't noticed you yet. Just like earlier, after you returned from lunch with Penelope, Spencer was on his way out to take his break with Emily and Derek, scrambling to hook his messenger bag on his shoulder. You ran to catch up to Penelope, asking her if she could teach you some basic codes out of panic.

And the time arrived, when you turned around after getting in the elevator and Spencer slipped his scrawny body through the closing door. You couldn't turn anywhere, so you smiled and put on your brave face.

"Done for the day?" As if it wasn't evident by how you two clutched the straps of your bags.

"Yeah," Spencer bit the bottom of his lip, glancing at you from his peripheral. Your words were still loud and clear in his head. They were enunciated by the way you hissed every word to Emily.

Silence engulfed the two of you for the rest of the ride down to the parking garage. Spencer gestured for you to get out first, to which you replied with a small 'thanks' and a soft nod.

You turned in his direction to wave goodbye but were utterly shocked at what you saw. You found Spencer barely stepping off the elevator as if he had waited for you to take no less than twenty steps before he started to move.

"Have a great evening, Spence." You couldn't let your own embarrassment affect your friendship with Spencer. Not when you were bound to see him the next day and the next and until you were kicked out of the bureau.

He halted, clutching his bag. "You too." He muttered, almost inaudible for you to hear if it wasn't for the acoustic of the parking lot.

His eyes were distant, and you knew that you may not have wholly ruined your friendship, but you most likely made a mess out of it. So you left him with a nod and continued to walk to your car.

You hadn't moved more than two steps when Spencer spoke, "Do you regret it?"

You paused, your brows furrowing. Your body swirled at the weight of his vague question. "What?"

"Do you regret kissing me?" He asked, taking a massive gulp of nothing.

"No!" You shouted an exaggerated reaction to a simple question, inviting blood to travel to your face. "No, I don't." You reiterated, a lot calmer this time.

"Are you sure? You don't have to lie. I get it. I'm not really the best kisser—"

"No! No! Spence, no!" You didn't even realize that you were walking towards him until you stood half foot away.

Guilt spread throughout your veins for making him think for a second or more that you regretted kissing him. Sure, your mind was hazy at the memory of his lips on yours, but it didn't mean you didn't like it.

"No, really. It's okay." He reassured you, a longing stare glossing over his hazel eyes.

"The only thing I regret about our kiss was the fact that I wasn't sober." You admitted, willing yourself not to run and dip as you held his gaze.

There you go again. Always holding him a prisoner of your stare even if it was clear to both of you that you were on the verge of wanting to jump off a bridge.

A subtle smile was slowly forming on his lips. Because of your panic state and glued eyes to his, you didn't notice, rambling to explain how bad you felt for making him feel insecure about the way he kissed.

"I just," You sighed. "I just hoped I could remember how good it felt to make out with you, but because I was drunk, I only remember what happened but not how it felt. And it sucks. It sucks—"

He grabbed your face, and your breathing stopped. Spencer kissed you with eagerness and passion. He has been holding himself back the whole day.

Spencer wished you had an idea how bad he wanted to greet you with a soft kiss when he had the chance to steal you away from Emily in the morning. Still, your slight panic got to his head, making him wonder if it was solely alcohol that made you want to kiss him.

You didn't know when it happened, but your arms snaked around his neck, fingers tangled with the soft curls on his nape. You were hooked. And finally, it reminded you just how amazing it felt to kiss Dr. Spencer Reid.

You both pulled away, gasping for air, grinning from ear to ear. Chest shook up and down. Fingers numbed and tingly from the euphoric kiss he left lingering on your lips.

"You remember now?" Spencer asked with a shit-eating grin that he couldn't seem to wipe off his face.

Your arms crossed, index finger tapping your chin as you hummed. "I don't know... I'm not sure if you knew, but I don't have a great memory like yours." You kidded, mirroring his expression.

Spencer rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but you pulled his tie towards you to get your lips locked once again. You felt how he had difficulty placing his hands on your body, settling to hug you close to him like he was afraid you'd disappear if he let go.

The two of you giggled like teenagers, pecking each other's lips for more but too breathless to continue.

"See? She doesn't just kiss. She eats your whole face."

The two of you looked toward the elevator, finding Emily, Derek, and JJ.

Derek and JJ tittered at the joke, but they were forms of congratulatory giggles for the both of you.

You rolled your eyes at Emily, "When I like something, I savor it." You threw a suggestive wink at Spencer, earning a bright red glow from his face.

reid masterlist | masterlist

[cheegu3]

Hey can I request a yandere juyeon (the boyz)

By the way I don’t really know how to write request (this is actually my first time!!) and don’t worry if you don’t want to write this request you can ignore this

Wishing you a nice day

hi, your request was perfect don’t worry. I was actually really happy to receive this even tho it took some time bc tbz is one of the groups I really like rn ! c:

tw / trigger warning; yandere themes, abusive relationships, stalking, creepy behavior, murder, blood, cursing, kidnapping

wc; 1.8k

note; u didn’t write a prompt so I came up with one myself, I hope u like it 🖤🖤

Juyeon - 02:04

You could hear his footsteps behind you and the occasional pants, echoing against the walls of the alleys and tunnels you passed by. But he sounded nowhere near as tired as you did, which was a terrifying realisation.

Despite lungs and legs burning, screaming for you to stop and give up, give into the predator chasing you - you kept running.

Time felt like it had been moving incredible slow ever since you first noticed a figure following you on your way home from work. So you weren’t even sure how long had passed.

'' Y/n? ''

You almost stopped mid-step as the person called out your name. They knew you? Was it maybe someone from work who didn't have any bad intentions?

You shook your head at your own overly optimistic and naive assumptions. No person with pure intentions would chase someone down when they noticed they'd scared them.

So when rounding yet another corner in the small alleyway you'd been forced into; instead of stopping and turning around, you dove into a small gap between two food stands and crouched down, pressing a hand over your mouth.

The running footsteps came to a halt momentarily, as the owner of them must've been confused on which way you went. But not long after, they returned again - right towards the direction of your hiding spot.

You weren't sure what had caused him to happen to choose the exact way you went, perhaps it was luck for him and karma for something for you.

Laying down on the wet ground below, you crawled on the ground to get cover behind a sign standing in front. It was pretty much useless anyway, if he went down all the way and passed by the stands, just turning his head would make him look down right at you.

Feeling anxiety increasing when you heard him continue walking down it, your nails almost dug into the flesh of your cheeks.

'' Y/n? '' he shouted again.

Your blood froze in your veins. That sounded a lot closer than last time. Slowly, as if you were scared any movement at all would alert him of you, you turned your head upwards. He was right there, a meter away from your stand and he was only getting closer.

You held your breath, despite knowing it was over. Confirming your depressing thoughts, you were dragged out just a second later by your arm and a scream of terror ripped from your throat.

'' Ju...Juyeon? '' you blinked up at the attacker, struggling to make him out under the lack of light.

He moved closer, just under a light and you shuddered, shaking your head and trying to back away on the ground, the soles of your shoes digging into it.

It was Juyeon. He was a colleague who had just started working at your job. Being very shy, he rarely spoke to anyone and you hadn't talked to him except for when the introductions took place.

'' Why did you follow me? ''

He flashed a broad smile that made his eyes crinkle, quite inappropriate for the situation. Either he was terrible at reading the room and had no social skills or he had bad intentions, the latter you felt was more credible.

'' I'm in love with you. ''

'' What? ''

'' I'm in love with you, y/n. '' he sheepishly repeated, going back to looking shy again.

You were too stunned to say anything, just watching him closely to see if he'd continue.

'' I didn't really know how to talk to you so...''

'' So you followed me like a creep? ''

He nodded eagerly.

'' I want to go home now. ''

Your eyebrows furrowed and you tilted your head. '' Okay? ''

It seemed you two had completely different ideas of what that meant. You were caught off guard when your colleague suddenly pulled your leg towards him, making you get dragged on your back and then you were heaved over his shoulders.

'' What the fuck are you doing? Put me down! ''

'' I want you to live with me. ''

Juyeon started moving out of the alley, back the same way you'd come from.

You screamed, trying your best to grab ahold of the walls of the buildings. However, nails struggling to grab anything but air left you hanging limp against his back in no time.

'' Stop screaming. '' he hissed under his breath. '' I don't want to hurt you. ''

The world started moving a lot faster, just as the sounds of people's laughs echoed to where you were. You kicked and wriggled as a spark of hope was ignited inside.

Maybe if you somehow managed to fall over his shoulder, you could land in a non-injuring way and sprint with all you had with the help of the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

He stopped, but when you tried to move around and turn your head, his hold around your legs became harder, almost digging into your skin.

'' What are you doing? ''

You stilled, it was a voice you didn't recognize. Did he stop because someone saw the two of you in the dark?

'' Help me! '' you cried out, taking your chance.

The voice didn't respond again. It was deadly silent until you heard what sounded like a person running, getting closer to where you were.

Without warning, Juyeon threw you right into the wall to his side, causing you to land on top of some trashcans. You groaned out in pain, head pounding wildly as you had hit it on the way down.

Rolling on the cold ground, you craned your neck to the best of your abilities to see if you could see the person that had come to help.

It was a woman. She stood in front of your colleague, immobile with mouth opening and closing continuously as if her whole system was malfunctioning.

Juyeon had his arms out, standing a few meters away from where you were.

'' What do you want? '' he said in a low tone, taking a step towards the poor woman.

You tried to slowly make your way to standing, but it was very hard. Your muscles felt stiff and several places ached, others probably had scrapes with blood dripping out of them.

'' I-I just...'' she swallowed thickly and grimaced, looking like she was regretting the whole thing. '' I came to help. ''

'' There's no one who needs help here. ''

The woman stepped to the side so she could get a clear view of you. Juyeon was quicker. He turned around and blocked her again by approaching you and crouching down.

You looked confused. Not sure what he was trying to do, you analyzed his face. But nothing was there, he didn't have any emotions whatsoever on his face.

That's why you almost gasped in horror when you saw his hand move, instinctively your eyes darted towards it and you saw something shiny - a knife.

He twisted it in his fingers to make sure you saw it. It was hidden under his sleeve, the handle touching his palm while only a small fraction of the blade was visible.

You were about to say something and he could sense it. Without uttering a single word he said a lot by merely turning his face a bit to the side, to the direction of the woman. You knew what he was insinuating.

'' Please don't hurt her. '' you whispered, only loud enough for him to hear.

'' Then say what I want you to say. ''

You looked at each other for a few seconds in silence. Your pleas went ignored, so with a heavy sigh you said to the woman, '' I'm sorry, I don't need help. ''

She didn't look convinced. Slowly she crept closer to where you where. Your eyes called out to Juyeon again, despite knowing it was already too late.

He got on his feet immediately and turning around he managed to quickly get the knife out fully before plunging it into her in one swift movement.

You felt your stomach flip as you saw his large hand come up to muffle her screams of agony, while the other continued twisting the knife deeper into her abdomen. Blood oozed out of the wound.

When her hands stopped trying to push his away and you saw the light slowly start to go out, you had to turn on your side. It was already too much to bear, seeing a dead body would send you into a full mental breakdown.

When Juyeon was done, he hurried over to you and he smiled sympathetically, giving you a few paths on the back upon realising you were hyperventilating.

'' It'll pass. '' was all he said before turning back again, presumably getting rid of the body.

You weren't sure what he did, because you didn't want to look. Your eyes were squeezed shut while you pressed your shoulder into the rough brick-wall on the left.

'' Let's go. ''

He helped you up when you didn't move from your spot. Then you let yourself be lead all the way over to a car that was parked far away, near the tunnel you initially started getting chased from.

You had many chances to run or ask for help when people passed by. But you were almost in a trance from having witnessed a murder. So your eyes were staring down at the ground the whole way.

It was pretty safe to say that even if you did those things, there was a silent threat in the air - I'll do it to you too.

However, despite the situation he kept glancing at you, a look of worry adorning his features. The hand that was placed firmly at your waist occasionally gave you soothing rubs.

'' Please get in without a fight. '' he begged under his breath after opening the door.

You got into the backseat, although you could see he was a bit disappointed by that. Before going to the driver's seat he quickly locked the car, being paranoid you'd run anyway.

When he got in and started driving, you felt more like yourself again, and even had the energy to look out of the window; wondering what the future held for you. Would you never go out again? Never go to work again? Would he kill you, or torture you?

'' I've loved you for a very long time. ''

You shook your head, an unamused laugh escaping your lips.

'' You've never talked to me before. ''

'' That doesn't matter. ''

'' That's not love, Juyeon. '' A single tear finally escaped from your tired eyes. '' You're sick. ''

[iveseenstrangerthings]

family video romance pt 2 - steve harrington imagine

summary: this is part two to the imagine where reader comes into family video and strikes up a bit of a mutually pining relationship with Steve.. (click here for part 1!) In part 2, they have their long awaited cosy, fluffy movie date with some confessions and confidence from the reader towards the end... I hope this is okay! Thanks for all the lush comments on the first part :) (trying this again because it didn’t show anywhere??)

word count: 3k

warnings: none that I can think of! maybe the odd swear word (this has been in my drafts for ages.. I kept going back and editing it but idk lol)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as the phone hit the stand, your heart has been in your mouth and your stomach is fizzing. Thoughts float lazily around your head like loose clouds on a clear day, slipping in and out of your stream of consciousness. Steve will be here soon, in your house, in your space, enjoying your company.

Quickly, realising just how imminent his arrival may be, you whip into your back room where your mom is sitting, flicking through a knitting magazine with her latest work sprawled over her legs. “Mom!” You shout accidentally, your energy not matching her own calmness, “sorry.” You add quickly realising you’ve just broken her silence. “I um- I have a friend coming over, he’ll be here in like twenty minutes.”

Her eyebrows raise slightly, and she dips her head forward, looking at you over the rim of her thick glasses, “He?”

You think for a minute that she’s going to turn around and deny Steve coming over, your heart sinks and you curse yourself silently. “Yeah, he’s really nice. We met at the video store.”

“Oh, is he the one who ordered you that film you like?” She replies as a smile dresses her lips. Thank God, she’s smiling.

“Yes!” You’re an open book with your parents, so you don’t want to stop now, “he actually left his number in the box...” your cheeks tinge a light shade of pink at the confession, and with how giddy it makes you feel. “So, I called and asked if he wanted to come and watch it with me.”

Her lips turn up in satisfaction, “Sounds good, sweetie.” She nods gently at you before turning back to flicking her page over, “Will you bring him in to say hello?” You nod eagerly, smiling broadly at her before swiftly turning and making a dash for the stairs to get yourself ready.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re smoothing the rest of yourself down whilst looking around your room one final time to make sure nothing looks too out of place, you light a candle on your dresser and knock off your main light, leaving the place basked in a dim, relaxing glow. Suddenly, a violent rush of thoughts enters your mind and you stand, staring fixedly at a spot on your carpet before you’re snapped out of it by the sound of your moms voice.

“Here’s company!” She calls out from downstairs and your stomach lurches. Oh god... You regret telling her now, you’re afraid she’s going to be too overbearing.

“Mom!” You call on your way down the stairs, skipping some which makes your heart skip faster, “you must promise me that you will not be too much.”

She feigns a look of offence before sloping back through to the back room, “Okay, okay.” Holding her hands up behind her, she disappears back into what you refer to as her knitting cave.

Almost immediately after you reach the front porch, the headlights that were illuminating the space are shut off and you wait in anticipation for the opening and closing of the car door. It’s softer than you expect and to an untrained ear it would’ve gone amiss. Before you know it, knuckles tap softly on the exterior of the door and you go over to let him in. As the door brushes back, you get a waft of the cool night air along with a fresh wave of his aftershave. Impulsively, you take a deep breath in to fill your lungs with the scent that would make people weak at the knees. “Hey.” You speak softly. Intensely, your eyes lock onto one another and your stare burns deep into each other unlike any time before.

“Hey stranger.” He replies and your knuckles turn white as you grip the door frame harder, unsure of how much time has passed, you quickly avert your gaze and step out of the way of the doorway.

“I’m so sorry, please, come in.” Like a distinguished host, you step aside and guide him in with the outstretch of your arm as if you were the host of a Victorian dinner party. Great start.

He steps into your porch and starts to slide off his shoes, gently placing them next to where your own rest on the hardwood floor. Maybe he feels awkward, or maybe he regrets coming already? To break the silence, that Steve was finding quite familiar and vaguely comforting, you speak up, “Do you want a drink or anything?”

He straightens himself up and his hair flops gently at the change in direction, “No, thank you. I’m all good.”

After a pleasant meeting with your mom, who very much seemed to enjoy his company too, you turn to head upstairs, and he places a hand on the small of your back as you walk up the stairs ahead of him. The sudden contact brings forth a deep crimson to settle on your cheeks, and you’re grateful that you’re facing away from him.

Now, as you arrive in your room, you gently close the door behind him and watch as he takes in your cosy surroundings. “Well, I think you passed the test with my mom.” You watch in awe as he goes straight to your bed and sinks into the pillows, making himself feel comfortable as he adjusts them to his liking. It’s actions like this that you realise puts the two of you miles apart. He’s used to this, you think, of course he’s done this before, making himself comfortable in someone else’s house and spending time with them. You daren’t let on this is the first time in someone else’s company.

He lets out a small laugh as you retrieve the tape from the box, smiling down at the note that is still nestled in there. “I can see where you get your good looks from.”

You turn to face him with pseudo disgust on your features as you slot the tape into the player with a click as the machine whirrs to life. “Get out.” You scoff as you awkwardly make your way back to your bed, sitting on it but sitting what feels like miles away from him. Inside your chest, your heart hammers wildly and you worry it will be audible to him. Instead of relaxing into it as the film starts, your body remains rigid and all you can think is that Steve is realising just how new to all of this you really are.

As the film plays out on your smaller, crackled television, which you’re hoping Steve isn’t silently judging, he turns to face you. Studying your side profile, his eyes trace your features, stopping to take in every tiny detail as you feel his eyes burning into you, but you daren’t turn to face him. The scene plays out in front of you in a blur, you’re thinking of anything but the movie and you feel a rush of warmth fill out your cheeks. One you’re sure Steve would be able to notice.

Just as you feel the colour dissipating across your face, he leans forward and pauses the movie.

Wrongly so, you assume that he’s going to say he’s had enough and leave. You know this isn’t how his usual meet ups with girls would go... for Christ’s sake you’re sat almost two metres apart from each other on your bed. It hasn’t felt awkward, but now the movie has been paused and the room has fallen into a blanket of silence, you realise how it could seem awkward.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, shuffling your position on the bed so your legs are crossed and you’re facing him now. How foreign it is, to have Steve in your room, sitting so casually on your bed.

He mirrors you and pulls his leg up under himself and turns to face you, making himself comfier in the process. This relaxes you slightly, as his posture is not one of someone readying themselves to leave. “Of course. Sorry, I just wanted five minutes.” He leans his arm against your headboard and lets his temple rest on his knuckles.

“Sure.” You nod, hoping he has something he wants to fill these five minutes up with.

Sure enough, before long he’s clearing his throat and studying your features once more. “That day, at the store,” he starts and your brows furrow, where is this going... “I think it was the second time we chatted, and I called you beautiful.”

Your stomach lurches at the memory and you hear a sudden increase in pitch in your eardrum, almost deafening. Your actions that day still confuse you, how you just walked out soon after, so awkward, so child-like in your reception of the compliment. “I remember, yeah..”

“Did I make you uncomfortable?”

Ah shit. That’s the last thing you wanted him to feel. Now, you just need to find the words to describe how he really made you feel, because uncomfortable is far from it. “Oh my God, no! No. I know, I know I just walked out and left you standing there I know.” You shake your head in disbelief at your own actions but carry on. “I’m sorry. I just honestly have never been called that, by anyone. Never mind someone like you.”

He tilts his head slightly, brows slowly creasing together, “Someone like me?”

“You know,” you hold your hands out and pan them across Steve, “I’m not stupid I used to see you with girls in the store all the time, flirting and laughing with them. I used to think you were just a flirt and nothing else, someone who spoke to all the pretty girls to pass his time at work, but the girls loved it. It’s like they came in just to see you. You could’ve had any one of those girls.”

He waits a while, letting your words float down like a feather falling from the sky before landing softly in the room. Finally, he speaks, “Yeah but it would be fifteen minutes of laughing and cringeworthy flirting that I didn’t even enjoy, then they’d just walk away. I hardly ever get past the first date with anyone.” If this is a date, you’re sure as hell going to do everything in your power to get a second one. “But this has been different. This has felt different.” He admits now, still looking towards you carefully. To your surprise, he continues, “I’ve never waited for someone to walk through the door as I have with you, hell I’ve certainly never watched any Jack Nicholson movies for a girl before.” You both chuckle at this and let a moments silence flutter by you.

“I think they must’ve been mad.” You state.

“Hm?”

“The girls. From the store,” you blink at him expectantly, “to just walk away from you. Not want a second date. I thought about you all the time, you know. Whenever I watched a film, I’d wonder whether you’d seen it, if I thought you’d like it, if we might ever watch it together....” All of this is just tumbling out of you unexpectantly it’s like someone’s pulled a plug.

A warm smiles spreads across his features, reaching his eyes yet again.

Your cheeks flush as you overshare, “I’m sorry, that was a lot.”

“You apologise too much.” He states, rolling his thumbs over one another.

You nod agreeably, “Yeah, I know…” you pause slightly and watch his lip curl up, “…sorry.”

He puffs his cheeks out laughing and moves closer nudging you with his arm. “Idiot.” His amusement slowly drains from his features and he goes serious, which worries you. “You seem shy tonight. I hope I haven’t overstepped a mark.”

Fuck sake, (y/n), you think. Swiftly, you close your eyes and when you open them, he’s looking back at you with contentment, like he’d patiently wait all day for your reply if it meant he could continue your conversation together. “I’m not shy, I just, I don’t know, I feel like this is just so unnatural for me.” Your shoulders hunch up in a shrug as you finish your sentence off and you watch as his brows furrow slightly.

“What do you mean?” he questions.

“Well,” you start, “you being here, spending time with you, having someone take an interest in spending time with me.” Inwardly, you cringe, hearing yourself sounding quite pathetic but what you’re saying is true.

“How is that so hard to believe? That I wanna spend time with you?” His voice is laced with genuine curiosity, like he can see everything you simply can’t.

“It just is for me. Like I said before there are other people out there surely who you could want to spend your time with.”

He looks as if he’s about to start speaking, but then stops, pondering over his words silently, his fingers tracing over each other and your eyes flicker to them, watching intently before snaking your eyes back up to meet his own. “I don’t understand how this is your first-time spending time with someone one to one. I haven’t met anyone like you, ever.” You roll your eyes, yeah yeah, this is probably his rehearsed speech he gives everyone. “No, I’m serious.” Slowly, his hand comes to your own and takes it in his, he pulls your arm gently towards him, straightening your arm out so that you have no choice but to edge in closer, tightening your fingers around his own. Now that you’re closer, closer than ever before, you get to see every little detail up close. “Ever since I saw you in the store, you’re all I’ve thought about. I would wait and every time that damn bell rang, I would hope it was you walking through the door.” His fingers have spread apart so that you can weave your own through, feeling comfortable as they link together, “This feels right to me, (y/n). Being with you, it feels right,” his eyes search your own intensely and you drink in every last word, “I might be overstepping here, and you can tell me if I am, but I don’t want this to just be a one-off thing, I don’t want to just come here tonight and then never have anything to do with you again.”

Almost as if his touch, albeit only on your hands, is melting you, your posture softens and for the first time tonight you feel relaxed, “Neither do I.” you say, your voice small and almost whispered.

Now that you’re closer to each other, your breathing feels like it synchronises together and you lean in comfortably against your headboard, your hands still locked into one another. With a sigh, you intensely search his features, holding his eye contact for much longer than ever before. He notices this, and holds it right back, admiring your eyes up close and taking a mental image of how the colours swirl and pool together before your pupils. “You’ve got me feeling some type of way, (y/n).” Steve admits smugly, a smirk gradually creeping up on his lips. You lift one eyebrow at his confession, enjoying his admission of feelings. Now, your eyes move down to his lips, and he notices your shift in gaze. Suddenly, a feeling of overwhelming embarrassment floods your body, and you move your head back abruptly, shocked at your proximity.

“Hey.” He says softly, bringing his fingers to your chin to gently manoeuvre your gaze back to him. “What’s worrying you?”

The fact he can tell; that he can read you so well shocks you; he seems to know you and understand you more than you think. “I just don’t wanna get hurt.” After your admission, your eyes land on each other once more. This time, his thumb grazes over your cheek gently and the gesture warms your heart.

“I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise.” He waits a minute, simply gliding his thumb absentmindedly over your cheek whilst the clock ticks calmly in the background, signifying the passing of time but neither of you seem to care. “I know we don’t know each other all that well yet, but I really wanna get to know you and learn about you, and I know this seems like a sweeping statement for two people who haven’t spent a whole lot of time together yet, but whatever worries or whatever hesitations that you have about me, I wanna prove them wrong.” It’s as if you’re made of butter and in that moment his words are the heat needed to melt you into a puddle on the floor. You feel pathetic for feeling like this over Steve, but God damn...

“I would like that very much. Thank you.”

“What for?”

“Just all this,” you gesture back to the TV where the movie is still sat paused then gesture back towards him, “just being here with me.”

He laughs slightly and you’re now aware of his thumb still grazing over your cheek, “You never have to thank me for that. It’s an absolute pleasure.”

Without giving it a second thought, you place your hand on his chest as you lean in and close the gap between the two of you, placing your lips onto his softly. He doesn’t seem the slightest alarmed as he leans into your lips, deepening the kiss. It’s as if he’s been waiting for this too as his hand now cups the side of your face. He’s very aware that this is most likely your first kiss, and he keeps it soft, gentle, and slow paced. Albeit you initiated it, which he admits to himself has turned him on ever so slightly, he keeps it tame, as much as he doesn’t want to.

As you pull away, he can’t hide the smile that’s painting his face, “I’m sorry I didn’t ask for permission.” Your cheeks are tinged with a slight blush at the excitement of the whole situation.

“Are you kidding me?” He starts, “That was hot.” Your blush only intensifies again at his words, and you dip your head and lean it against his shoulder, laughing slightly. When you pull back up, he places a soft kiss against your lips then moves back towards the TV, going to start the film up again. As he pulls back, he rearranges himself to get comfortable and then opens his arm out to you, inviting you to come closer, closer than before at least, and enjoy the remainder of the film enveloped in his arms.

[babiebom]

Sdv Bachelor/ettes as the Hatchetfield Universe Characters

A/N:STARKID STARKID STARKID I LOVE SO MUCH also another shitpost? in this economy? More likely than you think. I wanted to do ALL Starkid characters but I think that’s too many options and I will be here for fifty years. Also this is a gift because I started work today and will probably not post anything for a hot minute

A/N pt 2: HAHAHA I STARTED WRITING THIS MY FIRST WEEK AND IMMEDIATELY GOT SICK SO IVE BEEN OUT OF WORK FOR A WEEK

Tw: maybe some spoilers for both the game and the musicals, cursing, mentions of abuse, murder, and some other stuff

Wc: idk it’s headcanons bb it’s gonna be at least 3 points though

Sdv Masterlist

Sebastian

Ethan Green(Black Friday)

Resident emo/badboy duo

I do think that as a teenager he would run away with someone that he thinks that he’s in love with to give them a better life even if he’s mistaken about how hard it is

Like he just seems like that type of guy

Like he would be the “yeah babe your family sucks let’s get out of here and be on our own” type of guy

I also think that he would be sweet to his partners younger sibling like just because he doesn’t get along with his own doesn’t mean that he hates kids or anything.

Also smokers lmao

Just really fits the vibe of Ethan very well

Guy that looks tough and bad boy-ish on the outside to in reality just be sweet and caring

I could also see Seb in the Ethan outfit :)

Sam

Kyle Clauger (Nerdy Prudes Must Die)

While I don’t think Sam is a bully really

I do think that as a teenager he would just go along with what his friends say because he is a sweet boy that just wants to fit in

Doesn’t wanna bully anyone at all just wants to be happy

Is popular but also not the most popular because he’s a golden retriever and isn’t really chasing popularity

Like yeah he wants to fit in but that doesn’t mean he cares about popularity really he just wants to be liked he doesn’t really care if he’s known or not

Kyle is really just a background character and we don’t really see him unless it’s like specific scenes with Max or like the aftermath.

So we don’t really know a lot other than he never really wanted to bully people but wanted to fit in with Max even to the point to where he doesn’t date anyone max tells him he can’t.

I do think that Sam would choose his friends over a significant other unless he actually genuinely loved them so I think he kinda fits this jock that’s not really mean but isn’t really helpful vibe

I would’ve chosen Ethan for Sam but Sam isn’t really a bad boy on the outside if I’m being honest.

Shane

Paul Matthews (The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals)

Mostly because I think it would be funny if he screamed at the top of his lungs for coffee

Also I think he wouldn’t enjoy watching a musical he hates the fact that everyone in them are either so happy or that they’re singing every five seconds

“PLEASE GOD NO”

Would also be horrified at “What do you want Paul”

I would’ve probably chosen Paul for Harvey because of his love for coffee but I don’t think he would be this unhappy about everything

Imagine trying to get him to sign ANYTHING while he’s walking to Joja he will not

Paul is much nicer than Shane at first glance but at the same time I feel like Shane could embody him well.

Like Shane can be Paul but Paul could never be Shane.

Alex

Max Jägerman (Nerdy Prudes Must Die)

Again I don’t really see him as a bully

But I do think he could’ve been one in high school

Like Sam I think Alex just wants to fit in and be cool (especially because of his life) so as a teenager I could see him being an absolute asshole as a teen

Maybe not to Max’s level but like out of everyone I think he fits Max the most

In the whole star quarterback and liked by the cool pretty girls.

The reason they win their games

Also in the whole no one really understands them

Like I know Max is horrible he’s a LITERAL MONSTER

But like when the main characters try to bully him he literally is like “this is the nicest thing anyone has done for me”

Like yeah he’s a bully and we can see that and they didn’t really flesh out that plot line it seemed like Max didn’t really have people in his life that genuinely cared about him to set anything up for him or do things for him other than be yes men which isn’t really caring at all

I feel like Alex would be similar in that he doesn’t really have friends (Haley doesn’t really count for me because I feel like she’s using him as means to an end. As if she sees him as who she’s supposed to end up with because of their looks instead of actually caring for him)

Only people who either tell him what he wants to hear without truly caring or understanding (except for his grandparents)

Alex too would be happy if someone decided to go through the trouble of making an elaborate prank for him.

Harvey

Becky Barnes(Black Friday)

Him and Maru were the most difficult for me but ultimately I settled on him being Becky

Mostly because he’s a doctor and I’m pretty sure she’s a nurse

But also because I also think Harvey is brave enough to go through an abusive relationship and come out of it still wanting to help the world

Also because I also think he would kill an abusive asshole bc he’s hot like that

I think they would have the same values like everyone matters and just because you have money or a greater status doesn’t mean you can take advantage of people or act like an asshole

I also think it would take an ancient god to make him become a man without morals

Elliott

Professor Hidgens (The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals)

CAN YOU SEE THIS LIKE I DO

Both are men of the arts and it’s funny

Also writing and music are very similar/ writing a musical is literally just writing a story and adding music to it so when I say it’s similar I mean it’s SIMILAR

I could see Elliott going insane and holding people hostage like “DO YOU WANNA READ MY NEW STORY?? PLEASE READ IT AND GIVE ME FEEDBACK PLEASE!!!!”

I could literally see Elliott taking this role and killing it

Like it’s not a lot to say because I think it’s very obvious

Also they both have that air of like…..pretentiousness?

Not in a bad way at all it just like…..they seem to give off the aura of having money

I think I feel like this because it’s like they have the freedom to write and go into the arts even though Hidgens is a professor I believe

It’s just they give off the air of feeling or being better than you but not in a way that is like their doing maybe

Idk if y’all can understand what I’m trying to say? Like they don’t act like they’re better than you it’s just their vibes

Abigail

Stephanie Lauter(Nerdy Prudes Must Die)

I wanted her to be “Latte Hottie” from TGWDLM(I forgot her name for now ignore it) but she doesn’t really give those vibes when you think about it

I feel like Steph and Abigail are VERY similar

They both seem like in school they’re cool but in different ways but they both have similar vibes

I think Stephanie is more grunge or skater(forgive me I don’t know clothing genres)

And Abby is more gothic but like I think they’re v similar

Like they aren’t in charge but people know them and even if they dislike them no one is fucking with them at all

Also the way their fathers are

I feel like Pierre would be VERY similar to Steph’s father

Like claims they love their child but beat them down with their words

Like imagine if Pierre was running for Mayor or something like

You already know he would be the biggest asshole

Would also fall in love with a person she doesn’t really match with on outer appearance on first look

Haley

Emma Perkins (The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals)

I think it would be funny to put Haley in this role

Like they’re both bitches but are funny/attractive to the point where it’s fine

And it’s a bitchiness that isn’t from meanness it’s literally just them being blunt

Like there is no lie about what they’re saying it’s just a rude thing to say lmao

Would be annoyed if she was working and was forced to sing for every tip

Would curse and be sarcastic to annoying people without caring and somehow manages to not be fired

Only difference is that I think that Haley wouldn’t half ass ‘Cup of Roasted Coffee’ because I thinks she wants to look good

Would tell Professor Hidgens to fuck off that she doesn’t want to hear about his musical

Emily

Hannah Foster(Black Friday)

I think in my mind(I have not watched Black Friday since the first time I saw it and it’s been a while) that Hannah knew more than the others

Like I remember while watching it that they didn’t take her as serious as they acted more like they listened to her in a “yeah okay grandpa take your meds” kind of way

When in reality she was connected and seeing things that they wouldn’t be able to understand

I think Emily is similar or fits the vibe where she understands things in a different way than the others

And they just see it as her being weird when in reality she’s just connected to the world in a deeper way.

Even though Emily is the older sibling I think she just fits this role where she could feel what is going to happen from the beginning

Leah

Lex Foster(Black Friday)

I know this looks like I ship her and Seb but I don’t

Her moms a bitch, an alcoholic

Jkjk (that’s penny)

BUT!!! I think Leah fits the whole “run away to escape my problems and follow my dreams” sort of thing

Like she literally broke off an engagement(or relationship at least) and left everything behind to move to a town in the middle of nowhere in order to follow her dreams

Literally just wants the best for herself and if she had a sibling I think she would want the best too

I also think she’s a dreamer. Like you don’t run off to become an artist without having big dreams and aspirations.

Penny

Grace Chasity(Nerdy Prudes Must Die)

Argue with a wall I’m right

I see her as like a goody two shoes that puts her beliefs above anything and really wants to make her family proud

Like I could see her being deeply religious

And honestly if Pam wasn’t an alcoholic and her father was still around I think they would be similar to the chastity’s just not as bad

Like obviously holding someone’s books isn’t equivalent to sex or whatever they believe but I do think they would’ve raised her to be a good Christian gal that should wait until marriage

Also because Penny sticks around for her mother and to teach the kids gives me those vibes

Would also go crazy like absolutely bonkers this woman is

Maru

Ruth Fleming(Nerdy Prudes Must Die)

Mostly because I think it’s funny

And because I couldn’t figure out who she would be so she gets to be Ruth

Also I think they’re both socially awkward

Ruth is just an awkward person

And I think that Maru is just socially unaware

Also I think that Maru would be the friend that’s like “can y’all set me up with someone?”

And everyone would be like “lmao no”

JUST FOR ONCEEEEEEEE

also Maru probably never fucks because Demetrius is always on her ass

Ruth never fucks bc she’s unfuckable

Honestly the same thing no one wants to have sex with the girl who’s dad will barge in without announcement or care

Like he legit wanted to catch her in the act to yell

Like why would you walk in if you think she’s getting railed and not like slam your fists on the door if you wanna stop them

N e ways

They’re the same bc they’re nerds <3

[mercurialrain]

Day 13: Witch

“Gah!” Felix lurched up, his hands frantically patting up and down his body. He didn’t feel any bandages, but he also didn’t feel the wounds that he was certain would spell his end. He breathed heavily for a few moments, relishing the feel of air in his lungs without struggle before he noticed someone in a chair at the foot of the bed. 

It was a woman that looked to be about his age, sound asleep with her feet propped up on the bed. Her expression looked peaceful and he could see from the dark circles under her eyes that she didn’t get nearly enough sleep. She was beautiful too and he stared at her for probably longer than what was normal, before he tore his eyes away. 

It didn’t matter if she was pretty. He didn’t know her and that made her dangerous. 

Carefully, he used his foot to prod at hers. She didn’t stir, so he used his foot to knock her legs off the bed and she woke with a start, her hand thrusting out. Some invisible force pinned him to the wall and he gasped, more out of shock than of actually being hurt by whatever this was. 

She cursed and dropped her hand, dropping him back on the bed with an unceremonious thump. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She snapped, running a hand through her hair. 

“Who are you? Or perhaps more accurately, what are you?” He couldn’t be sorry for the bluntness of his questions, but she didn’t look offended, just angry. 

“I’m Marinette. And I’m the witch that saved your sorry life, though I’m beginning to think that I should have just let the wolves eat you as they so desperately wanted to.” Marinette turned away from him, stalking over to some shelves that had various herbs in jars. 

“Wait, you saved me? That was real, not a dream?”

She glanced back at him as if to gauge if he was kidding. “Yeah, whatever you did to piss them off must’ve been good, because you were maybe two minutes away from death when I found you. You’re lucky I ran out of mugwort when I did and decided to go get some.”

Felix sank back against the pillow, wincing as he remembered what had happened. He’d admittedly not been nice in his rejection of the liar girl, but she was simply too unlikeable to be kind to, even if he was usually a nice person, which he wasn’t. Still, he didn’t think a rejection deserved several stab wounds to his vital organs, that was simply an overreaction. 

Instead of commenting on the sad state of his love life, he simply watched the witch. Her hands moved like she was a conductor, only she was dictating the route of several herbs, liquids and other ingredients into her cauldron instead of music. It was a strangely hypnotizing sight, something calming about watching everything come together. 

She must have felt him staring, because she turned and gave him a glare. “What do you want, pretty boy? I can feel your eyes boring into my back.”

“Pretty boy?”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “You look like you haven’t done a day of hard work in your life.”

“I have to! I’ll have you know that I am the son of the foremost clothing maker in the land.” He drew himself up out of habit, but Marinette’s eyes told him that she saw right through his bravado and wasn’t fooled at all by it. 

“Ah. Tell me, then, what were you doing out in the woods all alone, bleeding out? Were your clothes that poorly made?”

He couldn’t help it. He snapped. “I didn’t choose to be stabbed by a psycho over the fact that I didn’t love her back, ok?”

She looked taken aback and was quiet for a moment. “I apologize. That was out of line. Your wounds are completely healed and you may leave whenever you wish.” She turned back to her work, a clear dismissal and a clear indicator of what she thought he’d do next. 

“What are you making?” For some reason, he didn’t want to leave. 

Marinette turned again, looking surprised. “A potion to help with birth. It lessens the pain and eases the process.”

“How?”

She spread her hands helplessly. “I don’t know how my magic works, just that it does. You may as well ask the sun why it sets.”

Felix got up, coming to stand next to her and realized that he’d been put in different clothes at some point. 

Your clothes were torn to shreds and bloodstained. Of course she changed your clothes. She probably didn’t even touch you, just used magic. 

Still, it didn’t stop his cheeks from turning red. 

“Can magic be taught?”

“No. You must be born with it.”

“What about the herbs? Can you make potions without magic?”

“You can make concoctions and plasters if you have the medicinal knowhow, but you cannot make a potion that will do what mine can without magic.”

“How do you know how to make potions?”

She huffed out a laugh, giving him a side eye. “You sure ask a lot of questions, pretty boy.”

“Felix. My name is Felix.” For some reason, he wanted to hear her say his name. To hear the vowels and consonants on her tongue, shaped by her musical voice. 

“You sure ask a lot of questions, Felix.”

He shrugged. “It’s in my nature to be curious about that which I don’t understand. Is it really so strange?”

Marinette smiled to herself. “I suppose not. Would you like to learn how to make this potion?”

He leaned over the cauldron eagerly, ready to learn. She guided his hands as he measured out ingredients, showing him how to properly measure the stranger of the ingredients. He wasn’t half bad at potion making, something that Marinette admitted with a fair amount of surprise. 

“Like this?” He asked, measuring out some liquid into a spoon. 

She was about to respond when the potion burbled, startling Felix and making him drop the spoon. She lunged to catch it, crashing into Felix and knocking them both down. They landed on the ground in a tangled heap and she groaned, letting her head drop back onto the floor. 

“I’ve been a witch for how long and I still forget I have magic,” she grumbled. She looked up and realized that Felix was awkwardly hovering over her and smirked. “So, are we going to do anything fun in this position or are you gonna get off of me?”

His eyes widened and he stammered out an apology, quickly jumping away from her as she got up slowly. He hadn’t intended for that to happen, but he couldn’t deny that she was attractive. He glanced at her sideways as she continued making the potion as if nothing had happened, occasionally giving him instructions. 

Not yet, but maybe sometime in the future, he decided. In the future, he’d certainly make a move. 

- - - - - -

And a year later, the witch’s conducting hands would have a ring on the left ring finger, with a matching one on Felix’s.

[oliswamp]

Whumptober Day 21

No. 21 FAMOUS LAST WORDS Coughing up Blood | “You’re safe now.” | “Take me instead.”

Tommy is pretty sure he’s dying. The wound at his side is gaping, and it feels like he lost a hectolitre of blood through it.

He’s leaving a bloody trail, he realises abruptly and curses under his breath. This is bad. Any of his enemies could attack him right now when he’s down and do him in.

Actually, does it matter? He’s going to die there in the alley anyway. Maybe at least his last moments wouldn’t be lonely if someone finished him.

He coughs and his hand stains more red mixed with saliva. Disgusting. A proof that he’s missing not only his side but also a part of his lung.

He wants to cry. He wants to laugh. He settles for both.

He’s in the middle of hacking up even more blood because of his foolish actions when he hears footsteps. At first distant, then faster and clearer until the person approaching is all but running.

“Raccooninnit!? Hey! Hey, what—” The person stops in their tracks and Tommy looks up. In front of him is Siren, standing there with his mouth gaping and hands shaking.

“Sup?” he says weakly. “Came here to finish the job?” he laughs bitterly at his own joke and hacks up some more blood. Jesus. Someone would think he’d run out at some point.

“Finish the— Who did this to you!? No, hold on, I’m calling for an ambulance.” Before Tommy can protest, Siren presses a button on his glove and quiet beeping informs him that help is on the way. The hero still calls manually too, to describe the extent of his injuries though. The call picks up on the first ring by some fucking miracle, and Siren does exactly what he intended in hushed voice. “His side is charred and bloody, he’s bleeding a lot and coughing up blood, I think whoever hit him hit some major organs. Be here as soon as possible.” The call ends seconds later and the hero’s whole attention lands on Tommy.

He gulps. He hates how all he can taste is blood.

“What happened?” he hisses out, and Tommy feels the magical pull of his voice unwinding him.

“Dream attacked me,” he says, not protesting much. The familiar haze of Siren’s power is welcome, helps him distance himself from the pain.

“What do you mean Dream attacked you!? There’s no way he’d do it! He’s a hero goddammit!”

“Dream attacked me,” he repeats, compelled by the Siren’s question. “He told me I got in his way too often.”

Siren gapes at him wordlessly. At least Tommy thinks he is, his vision blurs dangerously and the hero is keeping a bit of a distance, probably remembering the time he got bitten and had to be in the hospital for weeks after, treating the infection. Well not his fault he grabbed Tommy out of nowhere.

Ah, good times.

No more of those from now on, huh?

“I’m dying.”

“No, you’re no—” “I’m dying.” he says again and the hero shuts up. “I don’t need empty promises about how I’ll be alright, I need…” Catharsis. He needs Tubbo. He needs Tubbo to know what happened and be protected. Who knows what Dream might do once his identity is revealed and he knows who he surrounded himself with. “My name is Tommy,” he offers, and Siren inches closer. It’s like his power got reversed and now he is captivated by Tommy’s voice instead of vice-versa. “Thomas Kraken Innit.”

“You put your last name in your vigilante name?” the hero bristles.

Tommy’s a little too tired to bite back.

“Could you… make sure my bro-… my friend is safe after… after all this?” He doesn’t wait for Siren to continue, hoping to guilt-trip him a little into agreeing. “His name is Tubbo, uh, Toby Smith. He works in that cafe we met at for the first time, you know, during that robbery.” Good times.

His vision starts being covered with black spots and he tries to furiously blink them away to no avail.

Siren tries to say something, or rather he has no problem speaking but Tommy has a problem hearing it properly. He hopes the answer is yes.

As.

He.

Passes out.

Away.

[imabee-oralizard]

The love hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

Quotes

August 27th-September 16th

“ Right now she just needs out. The talk. Of the room. Of her own life.“-(ch 6)

“ You are such a smart-ass.”-Adam(ch 6)

“ He really did smell good. And he was funny in a weird, deadpan way, and yes, unknown ass, but friendly enough to her that she could sort of ignore that about him. Plus, he was spending a small fortune on sugar for her. Truly, she had nothing to complain about.“-(ch 6)

“ Wishing she’d gone ahead and drawn 20 dicks all over Anh's face.”-(ch 6)

“Right. Yes. Good suggestion. Olive did breath, and and the act made her realize that she hadn't done that in a while.”- Olive(ch 6)

“He looked…Not gross.”-Olive(ch 6)

“He's really into you. I can tell from the way he stares at you.”-Anh(ch 6)

“Because this was her life, and these were her poor, moronic, hare brained choices.”-Olive(ch 7)

“And the way he looked at her, kind and curious and patient…she must be hallucinating it.”-Olive(ch 7)

“I wish you were Salt-and-Vinegar chips.”-Olive (ch 18)

“You would, wouldn't you? Hate everything that is delicious and lovely and comforting.”- Olive (ch 8)

“You just want to live in your dark, bitter world made of black coffee and plain bagels with plain cream cheese. And occasionally salt-and-vinegar chips.”(ch 8)

“Olive had to convince her lungs not to stop working, to keep taking in oxygen.”-(ch 8)

“Public speaking, or even one-on-one situations where I have to impress people. That's the worst, actually. I hate it so much- my head explodes and I freeze and everyone is looking at me ready to judge me and my tongue paralyzes and I start wishing that I was dead and then that the world was dead.”-Olive(ch 8)

“I don't know. Maybe my brain is broken.”-Olive(ch 8)

“Olive, you should talk about it. And let yourself be weepy.”-Adam(ch 8)

“She was fine, this was fine, she could cry about this later.”-Olive(ch 9)

“She felt so safe with him.Invincible. A true slayer. He turned her into a powerful, ferocious person.”-Olive(ch 17)

“He was always handsome, but now, in the witching hour, he took her breath away.”-Olive(ch 17)

“Who needs to say ‘I love you’ in every language? People barely need it in one. Sometimes not even in one.”-Olive(ch 17)

“She'd been better off not knowing how attractive he sounded when speaking another language.”-Olive(ch 17)

“She’d braced herself, but it still felt like a punch in the sternum that left her void of air. Caused her stomach to twist and her heart to drop.”-Olive(ch 17)

“Olive wondered a lot of things, then told herself to stop. It wouldn't matter less, now.”-Olive(ch 18)

“It was a weird kind of ache, jealousy . Confusing, unfamiliar, not something she was used to. Half cutting, half disorienting and aimless, so different from the loneliness she’d felt since she was fifteen.”-(ch 18)

“Because I'm starting to wonder if this is what being in love is. Being okay with ripping yourself to shreds. So the other person can stay whole.”-Olive(ch 18)

“They closed their eyes and let themselves just be, here, with each other, quite, still, one last time.”-(ch 19)

“When she heard the click at the door of the door closing behind her, it was like falling from a great height.”-(ch 18)

“Something inside her- her heart, very possibly- was broken in several large pieces, not shattered as much as neatly snapped in half, and then in half again.”-(ch 19)

“Her heart may be broken but her brain was doing just fine.”-(ch 19)

“She cursed herself for never checking the peephole. She truly deserved to be axed by a serial killer.”-(ch 19)

“Olive was not in the mood for socializing, or beer, or freedom trails, but at some point she was going to have to learn to productively navigate society with a broken heart.”-(ch 19)

“She told herself that she needed to be strong, to be pragmatic, to be numb.”-(ch 19)

“He's the most disgusting, detestable, shameful, disgraceful human being. I hope he has explosive diarrhea as we speak. I hope he gets genital warts. I hope he gets genital warts. I hope he has to live saddled by the largest, most painful, hemorrhoid in the universe.”-Malcolm(ch 19)

“Nuh-uh, this is a hallmark movie. Or a poorly written young adult novel. That will not sell well. Olive, tell Malcolm to keep his day job, he'll never make it as a writer.”-Anh(ch 19)

“God, ol, you're such an idiot. But a way lovable idiot, and my idiot.”-Anh(ch 19)

“You two can be so smart and yet so slow.”-Malcolm(ch 19)

“People who cross me will come to regret it.”-(ch 20)

“A lot of lies. So many lies she'd told, so many true things she could have said but never did, all because she'd been scared of the truth, of driving the people she moved away from her. All because she'd been afraid to lose them. All because she didn't want to be alone again.”-(ch 20)

“Her voice was barely audible in the chaos going on around them, but it was what got through to him.”-(ch 20)

“He was warm, and smelled like himself, like safe and home.”-Olive(ch 20)

“Did this fortune cookie just throw shade at me?”-Holden(ch 20)

“You can fall in love:someone will catch you.”-(ch 20)

“I don't like twenty- five- year-olds who act like toddlers. I don't mind them if they're actually three.”-Adam(ch 20)

“She loved him even more for it. For looking at her like she was the beginning and end of his every thought.”-(ch 20)

[the-box-publisher]

Cameras didn’t work- BECAUSE WHY WOULD THEY????? Couldn’t have any answers huh? The box just seemingly doesn’t appear on camera and neither does “the journalist”. Let’s get this over with so I can sulk in peace-the opening letter is the same as always so we can skip that, don’t want to bore my near nonexistent audience.

“Story submitted by August Marita

You have to help me. Everyday I fear is my last; I think I am cursed or maybe theirs a bubble around me that curses people in my vicinity, blimey it could be a virus for all I know. Every single person I meet tries to kill me… I can’t walk down the street without being swerved at by cars, attacked by dogs or lunged at by pedestrians. One time this man tried to drop an air conditioner on my head! Do you understand how expensive air conditioners are?!?!?! I don’t think I’ve made an actual connection with anyone since the 80s, my family is all dead so I don’t know if they would want to, but something tells me they are rolling in their graves trying to drag me down with them.

Someone for the last week has been trying to break into my house. I live alone get it? I live miles away from any concept of humanity or civilization. I haven’t seen a person in years but this chap is buggin around outa my house banging on my door, trying to smash in my windows. Every day at 8 smack dab on the dot he comes and bangs on the door, once, twice and then he whispers all creepy like “August, May, June, July, the commonalities of the common fly” and he just repeats that over and over until suddenly he moves over to the window and starts banging hard on the window trying to break it. Lucky for me experience has driven me to reinforce my windows. I know this guy isn’t human, I mean he looks and sounds real human like but he’s almost too human if you get what I’m putting down. He’s is such a John Smith he looks too perfectly normal I can’t stand it. He is going to kill me I know it. His eyes whisper it to me all sneaky like, he is waiting for my guard to fall and I fear I can’t stand it much longer. I haven’t left my house in weeks I’m out of water you have to help me please!

The Journalist: “ you should open the door, who knows he may be helpful :)”

Hell No! No way in gods green earth! I thought you were here to help me

The Journalist: “I do apologize I lied you wouldn’t tell me your story otherwise, but this, this is very INTERESTING. I’ll be on my way now can’t keep my publisher waiting ”

Wait… please at least answer me this: why don’t you want to kill me?

The Journalist: “who said I don’t”

I think I’m going to be sick- is this my fault? It feels like it may be. I never wanted this- I want to go home- but I am home. I don’t know how to feel or to act. What do I do? please someone anyone help me-

[floraltypes]

Thinking With Fists

pairing - phillip gallagher x reader

tw - mentions of sex and abusive family

summary - lip and you get in a argument regarding your secretiveness with your family

an - kinda wanna make a series with him, but i’ll do some drabbles for now, instead

“No. Maybe it’s the fact that you literally think with your fists half the time!” You yelled, arms flaring as Lip just stood there with his cheeks flushing in a bit of embarrassment and much anger.

It wasn’t a normal occurrence for the two of you to have a fight, both having a special sort of connection and trying to be realistic by talking out your problems, not wanting to be like your parents and such. But there were just certain topics/conversations that just caused all of those values to be whisked away, and one of them were happening today.

Earlier on, you were talking to Lip while relaxing in his room with his brother Ian and Ian’s friend Mandy.

“I don’t get why Mr. Lucland can’t just fucking say the right word, he’s a english teacher for fucks sake,” Lip ranted, rubbing his temple after throwing his pencil a bit of ways.

You silently chuckled, staring down at your book while you finished writing up some notes. Then peering over at the mean who was speaking while on your stomach at the top of his bunk bed, him sitting on the floor.

“It’s not like he actually has a degree,” You reminded him, rolling your eyes. “Or actually worked for it, didn’t he just fuck the professors or something..?”

“I thought that was just a rumor,” Ian chimed in, him and mandy playing a slapping game with their hands before Lip stuck his hand deep in his pocket to pull out his pack of cheap cigarettes.

“Nope, I heard from a guy I used to hook up with who went to that same college that you really can graduate by hooking up,” Mandy revealed, sitting up more in Ian’s bed to tell the news, changing from her slouched position.

“He’s practically a perv,” You rolled your eyes. “Looked up that Sarah bitches skirt, hate her, but I hate him more,” You nodded to yourself, getting off of the top bunk to grab a cigarette from Lip. You placed it in between your lips, Phillip lighting it up as you took a breath in and transferred it to be held between your fingers, smiling small at him.

“Hate her too,” He agreed, nodding a bit, just staring at your eyes before quickly averting his attention back to getting his own cigarette lit and tossing the pack to Ian and Mandy, then grabbing out the ash tray.

“She’s the one who, um, didn’t she post that picture of you in a bra?” Mandy questioned, taking a drag of her own while leaning onto Ian’s shoulder a bit.

“Yeah, fucking bitch, had some mark on my chest and got made fun of for a few months,” You remembered, cursing to yourself. “I was only in middle school, I don’t know how the hell she got that picture.”

“Now, you’ve got a super nice rack,” Lip winked at you as you just smacked his shoulder a bit.

“Whatever, I’ve got to get going soon,” You hit the cigarette to the side of the tray, letting the ashes flutter down into it, moving the lung killer back to your mouth to once again inhale.

“Where’s that?”

“Back home, shit to do,” You shrugged, flicking the last of your cigarette into the tray before gathering some of your things that still lied on the top bunk.

“Stay a bit longer?” Lip moved behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you just continued to pull all your papers together.

“Nah,” You shook your head, now stuffing them in your bag. “Got to g-” You turned back around, facing him, as he stole your lips for a kiss. The nicotine from his mouth mixing with your own to make the taste even stronger.

“Get a room!” Ian joked, laughing as Mandy threw a pillow at Lip’s back. You both pulled away, looking back at them, you with a grin and Lip with a annoyed look.

“We still on for getting those shirts?” Mandy questioned as you moved over to her, taking your gloves that lied by where she was sitting, sliding them onto your fingers.

“Shit yeah,” You agreed, giving her a high-five and then moving to ruffle Ian’s hair before going to the door. “Bye!” You waved, letting Lip follow you to the front door of the house and the steps adorning it.

You took a breath of the fresh air before turning back to say your goodbyes to your boyfriend.

“See you at school,” You kissed his lips quickly, turning back around and walking down the steps.

“Head to your house after?” He asked, sitting on the step as you continued to walk down the sidewalk.

“I don’t think so,” You chimed back, fixing the gloves around your fingers before continuing down the sidewalk and the path to your home.

Upon arriving, all you could make out was yelling being done by your father, cigarin between his lips as your younger brother sat in front of him with tear stains on his cheeks. You quickly rushed in, moving near him and looking off at him with a look of worry.

“What the hell took so long?” Your father questioned, irritation showing on his features and raspiness of his voice due to the years of smoking. He gave up on your younger brother and walked back to the couch to sit on the chair. “You have duties as the only woman so fuckin’ fulfill it!” He kept going, grabbing the remote and quickly turning the TV on.

You silently cursed in your head, helping your brother up and guiding him to the kitchen.

“It’s okay,” You silently cooed, grabbing a rag and running it under the water to wipe at his cheeks a bit, the cooling pulling him back, and kissing the top of his head. “You’re okay now. Go upstairs and play, I’ll call you when it’s dinner,” You tried to smile at him.

Getting some pots of water boiling, and looking for some easy and quick foods to make, all being cheap items due to the little income your home was making, you tried to work with it, making a meal for three.

Finally setting the table, and putting the food onto the plates, you told your father the news of the meal being done, then walking up the stairs to retrieve your brother and tell him.

You all ate dinner in silence, waiting for your father to finish and leave before you chatted with your brother. It was always more comforting without the older man there.

Once you were finished cleaning up you travelled up the steps, shutting your door lightly and grabbing some paperwork from your bag, putting some aside and working on certain parts.

After about a hour, you heard little knocks at your window. You had already put your brother to bed, your father now sleeping as well, and wanting some extra time to do searching for extra jobs.

You moved over to the window, looking out of the scratched up glass, opening it up more and peering down at your boyfriend who stood with another pebble in his hand and cocky grin on his lips.

“Let me up,” He spoke, another pebble ready to be aimed up there.

“What? Now!” You quietly exclaimed, enough for him to hear you but not your father down the hall. “Are you fucking crazy?”

“Come on!” Rolling your eyes, you shut the window, quietly creeping down the steps and to your back door to meet Lip at the side of the house. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you. Quick fuck or something?”

“Lip. Don’t joke around, I told you, you have to warn me before coming, now is a risky time.”

“Why are you getting so pissed?”

“You can’t be here, that’s fucking why!”

“How come? It’s always my place, even fucking Mandy’s, but never yours? Do you seriously not want me to see your home, scared, we live in the south side I’m not expecting you to live in a mansion.”

“I know that asshole. I obviously know that. My father is a bitch, and I just don’t want you to meet him.”

“You embarrassed of me?”

“No. Ever think that maybe it’s the fact that you literally think with your fists half the time!” You yelled, slightly wincing at the thought of your father hearing you.

“Is that how you think of me? Some fighter? I don’t just think with my fists, it’s not like half the time you just think about yourself. Not me!”

“I do. I think about you by not allowing you to come to my home, why can’t you see that? I have to do this.” You sighed, sitting down on the road with your tattered pajama pants on, putting your head in your hands. “I try at least.”

You looked back up to see a different glimmer in Lips eyes, one that seemed more calm than filled with anger, like taking a refreshing breath after a claustrophobic state. He seemed much calmer.

“Yeah, you do,” He agreed, voice much quieter and smoother, sitting down besides you in his blue jeans, hands on his knees as he slowly looked towards you. “You do.”

“I’m sorry.” You looked back at him as he moved a hand to your other hand, holding it in his grip. “I should explain my life a bit more than leave you in the dark.”

“That would be nice,” He smiled, rubbing his hair a bit with his free hand. “We both know I don’t have a perfect one.”

“True,” You giggled, him laughing as well. “I mean Carl flirts with me while trying to cook a rabbit he found.”

“Yeah, hopefully he’ll grow out of that,” Lip laughed, both of you remembering the exact time. “Hopefully.”

“And Frank.”

“Fucking Frank,” You both said at the same time.

“Now, will I be able to make fun of some of the shit heads in your family too?”

“Yeah,” You nodded. “Sure you can, cause I’ve got a few too, trust me.” You both looked at the night sky for a moment, relishing in each other’s company, and your fight being over. “Since you’re here…”

“You look kind of sexy in the moonlight. The way the light shines on your lips make them so much more alluring.”

“Look at you, Lip the poet, doing all those essays on poems really come through, huh?”

“Sure. But, I can come up with some real lyrics when I’m rounding my clim-”

“Let’s go Shakespeare, kinda want to hear these lines.”

[yisony07]

Back to normal

"Stupid curse" Darwin muttered in his head.

Months ago Darwin was a normal young adult, with a normal life, but when he decided to go camping, a wizard, just for fun, decided to cast a spell on him and transformed him into a dog.

Lucky for him, he was rescued within the hour by a man of his age named Dante, who lived in a nearby house.

Since then both had formed a very close relationship but, much to Darwin's chagrin, it was only from a pet and a owner; he understood that Dante believed that he was just a dog, so he thought that if he became human again, they could formalize a relationship. He longed to be human and to be able to enjoy all that. However, it did not prevent Darwin from showing his affection for him in various ways, such as licking his face excessively and resting his head on Dante's bulge, something that made him, Dante, uncomfortable (and made him suspect that Dobby, as he had named him) was a very special dog).

One afternoon Dante came home from work and Darwin, as always, ran up to him. Dante stroked his back and his spear and Darwin licked his face as much as he could.

"Okay, easy, little friend" he said before Darwin finished. "I have found something special, wanna see?"

Darwin wagged his tail and followed Dante into his room. Once there, Dante took out of his backpack a very strange object made of green wood: a mask.

"And that mask?" Darwin wondered approaching that with some excitement, because his tail was somewhat shaken.

"Some weird, and maybe crazy man, told me that this mask allows you to fulfill your wishes... Do you think that's true, Dobby?" Dante said.

"Fulfill wishes? I need it! Maybe I can be human and we can be together!"

Dante was about to put it on until he caught a glimpse of Darwin's slightly exaggerated emotion. "Do you want to try it on instead? Okay."

Dante showed him the back of the mask and Darwin could see a strange glow on it. When the mask made contact with Darwin's doggy face…

SMACK!

The mask stuck to Darwin's head and he began to spin in a small tornado across the room. He screamed and screamed, because he didn't know what was going on, much less Dante, who didn't make a sound and was barely able to follow the little tornado with his eyes. The tornado, going horizontally, smashed and repaired, made and unmade everything in the room, accompanied by a blizzard and the lights and sounds of lightning. Suddenly, the cries that were once of a fearful dog sounded more and more recognizable, as if it were a person in heat. And the tornado became vertical and began to grow and grow until it reached approximately the height of Dante and, being right in front of him, it stopped, revealing a very peculiar figure.

"What a rush!!!" shouted the figure with a semi-human, semi-canine face. He looked at to Dante (who was astonished at what just happened) and his eyes formed hearts and his heart pounded on the outside. In a second, he lunged at Dante on the bed, landing the latter under him, and Darwin begins licking all over Dante's face as his tail whips around to create blizzards.

"What's going on?" managed to formulate Dante. "You were a human all along?"

"Yes!!!" answered Darwin breaking away "A damn wizard turned me into your dog... You don't know how much I wanted this again! I love you, Dante!!!!" And without thinking twice, he kissed him.

Dante, for his part, had mixed feelings: the dog he was taking care of for a few months was actually an adult his age, who fell in love with him, who has seen him in private situations, who was kissing him right now with a dog mouth... How the hell should he feel about it? Although he couldn't deny that he liked the feeling, it did make him a little sick.

"Could you please make your mouth human? It's awkward kissing a dog... Dobby?"

"Sure, my love! My name is Darwin, by the way".

Darwin took some materials out of his pocket and began to build a device, as if it were a cartoon, complete with smoke. When finished, he ended up with something similar to a green and cream gun with the sign: HUMANIZER 2000.

Darwin took aim and fired a bluish beam. He moans in pleasure at the sensation, and this in turn turns Dante on. The doggy features faded little by little, the ears, the mouth, although some hair and some tattoos also disappeared in the process.

"That's much better" exclaimed Dante blushing at Darwin's new appearance.

"Really?!" Darwin pulled a huge mirror out of nowhere and admired himself in it.

"Wow, I didn't remember how sexy I was!!!" he exclaimed in great relief when he saw himself without any animal features on his head. Then, with a very lecherous smile, he walks over to Dante and lays down on top of him. "And now that we're on the same page..." Masked Darwin started kissing him non-stop, and Dante kissed him back. One of Darwin's hands gripped Dante's face; another rubbed his chest. Dante's hands ran over and over Darwin's back. They continued like that for five more minutes before parting ways. "Now, how about we go out into the world, my love?!" Masked Darwin asked smiling and Dante, blushing and guided by his emotions, nodded.

Masked Darwin took Dante from the hand and were thrown through the wall. First they went to a club, where they danced and danced until exhaustion; then Darwin took him out to share a chocolate milkshake, and they enjoyed a picnic. Later, he built a mechanical flying carpet and took him through the skies [in that, without Dante noticing because he did it with extra hands on his back, he created a bow and shot a deadly arrow into the same forest where the witcher was. that condemned him months ago, piercing his chest; thus, Darwin consummated his revenge] and finally, they returned to the house and had their moment of passion, full of kisses and with Darwin finally being human again next day.

[1tad0ri]

hiii. can i request a rough nsfw with sukuna where he's so frustrated with jujutsu sorcerers that he decided to unleash those said frustrations on the reader? like he just won't stop until he release all the stress inside him— kshjsch i feel like sukuna would do that 😳 he'll be rough all night long

warning: degradation, choking, breath play, very mild pain kink, hate fucking

ryoumen sukuna x fem!reader

i feel the same way so thank you, i’m going to be thinking about this for a long time

“you know, i really thought you’d put up more of a fight.”

the grip he had on your neck was bruising, but certainly a lot looser than you thought the king of curses would be. your hands clawed at him nonetheless, although the whole current concept of being shoved against the wall of your bedroom wasn’t exactly something you were complaining about.

the three impatient raps at your door earlier had you rolling out of bed, wanting to sleep after your latest mission. you’d thought it was yuuji, hungry for your warmth, but when you unlocked the door, rubbing your eyes and stifling a yawn, you’d been unceremoniously shoved backwards, the wind knocked out of you when your back met the wall. the glint of tattoos on a familiar face in the moonlight coming from your window told you all you needed to know.

sukuna watched you curiously and then his sickening grin was back, fingers squeezing a little harder. you gasped, stretching your neck away. “what? not going to answer?” he sneered, “maybe you all really are the same. scared little fucking sorcerers.” he leaned closer, breath fanning across your face. “isn’t that fucking stupid? you’re all a bunch of scaredy cats, aren’t you?” he pouted mockingly when he spat out the name. his lips were so close, if you just tilted forward—

no. whatever morbid fascination you harbored towards him didn’t change the fact he was... well... him. you stood your ground, leaning forward to bump your nose against his, your own scowl evident. “you can’t do anything, sukuna. once we find all the—”

“all my fingers you mean? the ones you can’t destroy on your own so you have to come up with some little plan to get rid of me?” he laughed bitterly in your face and you bit your lip, trying to calm your fury before you did something you’d regret. “it’s all the same. you’re scared of me. you don’t have the upperhand. never will,” he whispered at the end.

“i’m not scared of you.” your thoughts tumbled out of your mouth plainly without a second of hesitation, but the tilt of his head in question, his forehead brushing against yours, made you think that perhaps telling the truth around him was a very bad idea.

it was dark, hard to see his face, but god he was so close. “yeah? what are you then?”

good question. wait, no, bad question. bad, very bad, because you already knew the answer to it. or... did you? vocal chords at a stand still, there was no way to verbalize what you felt.

“hurry up, brat.” sukuna tightened his grip on your neck before loosening it just the smallest bit so you could speak. “i don’t have all day. how do you feel then? you with your little human emotions.”

words... what are the words. it turns out staring down a literal demon king in the eyes wasn’t the optimal place to think. “i... i don’t know.” your voice was small, unsure, lying.

the staring contest, backed by deafening silence, continued for a mere beat longer as you regarded each other with quiet contemplation. you could just barely make out his eyes and the curve of his lips, parted slightly. his breath was warm.

you couldn’t take it anymore and it seemed like he couldn’t either—you both automatically tilted your heads, lips pressing against each other easily, eyes falling shut. mouths sliding against the other, he gently pushed your head back to hit the wall, tongues running over one another. it was slow, hot, and you decided you should probably thank yuuji for keeping his lips so soft.

sukuna sucked your bottom lip between his own and your hands fell away from his grip on your neck to pull him closer by the front of his shirt (he hadn’t ripped it apart yet, an impressive feat). his leg slipped between your own, and you pushed down on it with your hips, the friction making you open your mouth further to him, something enticing about the fact he was a very good kisser.

but then it was like a switch flipped and his hold on your neck tightened once again. “what... what am i doing,” you thought he mumbled, voice hoarse (then again, your brain wasn’t exactly listening when you were busy making out with someone like him), kiss faltering for a brief moment. his lips curled into a frown, disdainful.

shoving you further into the wall as he pushed against you with his mouth, sukuna was all sharp teeth and rough lips now, swallowing up your whimpers, nothing soothing about it like his previous actions.

“i fucking hate you,” he spat, his hand abandoned your neck and moved up to squish your cheeks together, finding satisfaction in the way your lips puckering out, barely able to move. “do you hear me? i hate all of you.”

“the feeling’s mutual,” you mumbled around his grip, hazy from the kiss but knowing what you stood for, fury evident in your eyes and furrowed brows. he was the enemy. and you were... you. and... and...

you were met with a bitter laugh, your stomach curling into knots at the sound. you hadn’t noticed his free hand tugging at your waistband until it was too late, his hand slipping in and wasting no time running two fingers harshly against your soaking folds. “why are you dripping wet then? a slut and a liar?”

“fuck off,” you mumbled again, a lot quieter this time, face burning hot from embarrassment.

“i’ll fuck off when you stop acting like you want to fuck me.”

his words made you straightened up. “i- i’m not—”

“you’re not acting? mmm,” sukuna let go of your cheeks just enough that he could properly kiss you, tongue forcing it’s way past your lips, “of course you’re not. of course.” he was mocking you and you couldn’t say anything.

a finger pushed into your heat and you bit down on his lip in surprise, although the pain only seemed to spur him on further, a second finger easily shoving its way in next to the first. curling, pushing, rubbing against that sensitive, spongy spot inside of you, sukuna’s fingers had your legs shaking, the knee he still had pressed between them the only thing keeping you up at this rate. the grip on your face as he hummed against your mouth prevented you from avoiding eye contact with him, lips wet as he disregarded any type of mess he was making.

he was everywhere at once and you felt trapped. hot—it was too hot, your body was burning.

“su- ku... n... a,” his name came out garbled between the onslaught of your face being squished together and the sloppy kisses he pressed into you at irregular intervals. when his thumb rubbed against your clit as the two fingers continued to pump in and out, you gripped his shirt so hard you were sure you would rip it this time. “too... mmm,” a kiss that was more tongue than lip cut you off and you weren’t even sure if he heard you as you choked out the next words, “mmm, hah— much, suku—”

at once he released you, almost letting you drop to the floor, but you were able to just barely steady yourself against the wall in time. sukuna stepped back and away from your shaking form. you were gasping, lungs burning.

“w...why did you—”

“i can listen you know.” you could practically feel his eye roll from his dripping tone, even if you weren’t looking at him. “‘too much.’” he laughed as he mocked you. “more like you’re too weak.”

you were thankful he actually seemed to have a brain, but still— “you’re an idiot.” fuck, your lungs hurt, the retort scraping against the walls of them. he was good. it had been a while since anyone had left your head spinning like that.

sukuna flicked a hand dismissively. “‘an idiot’ who’s giving you a chance to breathe, you brat.” he decided to ignore the name for now, thankfully for you (although you didn’t exactly see it that way).

you couldn’t choke out another snarky response and simply focused on clearing your head. he gave you a chance to think and once you seemed clear-minded, he wasted no further time.

“bed.”

you blinked, eyes bleary, peering up at him from where you bent over, trying to catch your breath. “w...what?”

“on the bed. now.” he shoved his hands into his pockets, watching you blankly as you regained your senses. “unless you want me to fuck you on the floor?”

“no...” god, what was with you? or rather... what was with him? the ache in your core answered your question, your cunt feeling so empty now—he hadn’t even bothered to let you cum and you already wanted his fingers stuffed back into you. he was irresistible—you felt stupid even having the thought.

sukuna’s eyes narrowed, close to shoving you to the ground to finish what he started but exercising restraint for your sake. you’d need it. “i’m being nice and giving you a chance to get comfortable on your stupid bed, you idiot. go. now.” he was getting tired of repeating himself.

the last few snarky words and your own desire for him actually had you moving this time, climbing up onto the bed a few steps away and settling uncertainly onto the covers. you went to look up for further instructions but he was already on you, both of you tumbling back onto the mattress as he practically shoved his tongue down your throat, hands pushing up and under your shirt to squeeze your tits.

“take this off.”

you automatically pulled at the hem of the flimsy t-shirt at his command, sukuna giving you just enough room to get it over your head, and then his teeth were on your exposed breasts, marking them up. your fingers threaded through his hair, his head moving under your touch as you watched his mouth work with half-lidded eyes.

you didn’t think you’d be able to change in front of anyone any time soon, already knowing the blossoming colors of bruises would be apparent the next morning. reminder to self: cancel your upcoming shopping trip with nobara; the dressing rooms with her would surely be a disaster if he kept this up.

“who’s are these?” his grip was rough when he cupped your breasts, squeezing.

you immediately knew the answer he was looking for, all too eager to hand it over. “yours. fuck, they’re all yours.” your hands ran through his hair, urging him to continue his onslaught on the previously unmarked skin.

sukuna laughed, thumbing your nipples, giving one of them a light lick that made you squirm. “you’re more obedient than i thought you’d be.” he pinched the buds, rolling them between his fingers as you squeezed your eyes closed, gasping at the pain. “but that’s enough of that.” your eyes snapped open, about to ask him what the fuck he meant by that, but he was already setting to work.

his fingers hooked around your sleeping bottoms and pulled them down with your underwear, the night air cold against your damp lips. you rubbed your thighs together but his hands on your knees forced them apart as he peered down at you. you felt so exposed under his hungry gaze, entirely bare for him to see while he was still dressed. unfair.

“wanna see. don’t close them,” was his short, clipped explanation as he kept your legs spread. one hand on your knee, sukuna brought the fingers of his other to run along your folds again just as he had done before, except this time he could actaully see how you quivered under him, cunt glistening and dripping. he slipped two fingers to run between the folds and then popped them in his mouth, sucking the slick from his fingers and maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. you couldn’t look away.

he hummed, content as he licked the last bit off of the tips. “you don’t taste bad for a slut.”

all the focus was on you, him criticizing everything little thing you did, and you were a mess because of it. not even a chance to run your hands over his chest? unacceptable. you pointedly ignored his comment, pining after some form of a reward instead. “at least take your shirt off. thought you hated those things.” the clothing ratio here was starting to grate on your nerves.

sukuna rolled his eyes but crossed his arms over his chest to grab ahold of the sides of his fitted t-shirt and tug it over his head. you watched, mouth watering at the sight—the moon provided excellent illumination for the scene, his body revealed inch by painstaking inch as he disposed of the fabric. god, he was so hot. you hated it.

muscles on display, sukuna raised an eyebrow at you as though he were asking, happy now? your silent reply came when you reached up to run your hands over the dips of his abs, his chest solid and tattoos curling over the surface.

“that’s better.” you made a show of your gaze tracing over the surface before looking up at him, smiling to yourself. “surprised you didn’t just rip it off.”

sukuna simply scoffed and swatted your hand away, moving from between your legs so he could work off his pants and kick them off to the side.

“knew you’d like to see me take it off properly,” he answered at last, back to you as he wiggled out of his boxers finally and chucked them off the foot of the bed. you didn’t get much time to admire his flexing back muscles before he was on you again, settling between your legs like he knew he belonged there (you weren’t sure you could argue with that point).

he pumped his cock, grabbing one of your legs and pushing it back. precum leaked from his tip, length already fully hard, and sukuna was enjoying your gaze on him maybe a little too much. leg shoved back and in the air, you whimpered when he rubbed the head along you. you didn’t need prep after being fucked by his fingers earlier you supposed and you weren’t sure you’d even be patient enough to sit through him stretching you out any further with anything but his dick.

you wanted to feel it yourself and so you reached a hand out to wrap around the base, captivated by how he watched you as you thumbed the slit, breathing heavy but not saying anything, letting you do what you wanted.

you wanted it in you so badly.

when he opened his mouth in question, eyes flitting up to yours, you were quick to cut him off, already knowing what he was going to ask. “yes, i’m sure.” you didn’t know curses could actually be compassionate, and it was cute when his jaw locked hard at your confirmation and he nodded, shifting his gaze back to your hand.

you released his cock and sukuna set back to lining it up with you, grip on your leg locking the limb in place. you shivered under his hold and he grunted when the head nudged your entrance, slowly pushing in.

“fuck. take it. take it all in. fucking slut.” he sunk fully in in one motion, the pace enough not to have you screaming out at the stretch but making your breath catch in your throat all the same. “yes, just like that. a good bitch, that’s what you are, aren’t you? look at you.”

you didn’t even know what to think at this point, a shaky resemblance to his name tumbling from you, more so a moan than actual talking. you could feel him everywhere—so full, so overwhelmingly full.

shoving your leg back further until it was almost painful, cock bottomed out in you, sukuna snapped his fingers in front of your face. “i asked you a question, brat. or are you already too fucked out of your mind to answer?”

you couldn’t breathe, head heavy, and tried to nod in confirmation as you struggled to puzzle through his words, but then you shook your head to answer no—god, you were confused. what was the right answer? what was happening?

maybe you really were already too fucked out of your mind. you vaguely recalled his words from earlier and were able to form a somewhat coherent response. “a good bitch... yes, i a- wait.” what were you saying? first you let him fuck you and now you’re openly submitting to him? the curse that had nearly cost you and your friends your lives countless times?

pride wouldn’t let you go along with his little game even as your dripping pussy told a different story. “i’m not anything to you.”

sukuna scoffed, hips grinding into you as he leaned over you, hooking both of your legs over his shoulders and pressing them back, close to your head. “and here i thought we were actually starting to get along.” a mirthless laugh left him, both of you eye-to-eye now where you lay.

fire burning in your eyes, you were very much reminded why you hated him so much. a self-obsessed asshole was what he was. “i’m not exactly looking to be friends with the king of curses, you idiot.”

“but look at you now. you wanted this.” he licked a stripe up the side of your neck, pausing at the base of your jaw to grin and press a sweet kiss to the area. you shivered and your hands found his shoulders to grip onto. he wasn’t wrong about the wanting it part—the amount of times you’d fantasized about exactly this was concerning. “i wonder what would happen if your little friends knew about how you really felt. what’s that term you like to use? ‘fraternizing with the enemy?’”

sukuna laughed again when your expression fell, face hot at the reminder of the others. “i suppose this is considered a bit more than mere fraternizing though, hm?” he continued, smiling and kissing your cheek.

whatever. no one would find out anyway. expect... expect maybe... yuuji—what had happened to him anyway for this to happen? knowing him, he’d probably been too tired after the last mission and sukuna had easily switched in—the same mission that seemed to have set sukuna even further along in his fury against jujutsu sorcerers this night.

you weren’t dating yuuji per say (it was... complicated), so your qualms when it came to fucking the curse possessing him were... minimal to say the least. you wouldn’t have done it if you were already taken, couldn’t have done that to yuuji, sweet as he was. but even in spite of all that, sukuna was right... this whole thing was so... no, don’t think about it.

you didn’t care either way (...maybe)—you couldn’t let his words get to you.

“just move already.”

you heard him grumble, annoyed, and he propped himself up to hover above your face. “i was giving you time to adjust. you’re so ungrateful.”

and with that, sukuna snapped his hips into yours without another moment of hesitation and you dug your nails into his back, mouth open in a silent scream because fuck.

“ungrateful fucking brat.”

“more,” your voice was hoarse, focus narrowing in only on the way he was fucking you.

you weren’t sure if it was your words or his own desire that spurred him on, but he set a bruising pace from the start, the places where your hips met hurting every time he rammed back into you. he was marking up your neck, the area already feeling sensitive and oh-so overabused, yet you not wanting to tell him to stop.

sukuna’s hand wrapped around your neck again, the feeling familiar now and you clenched around him at the sensation, him growling when you did so. the slight squeeze of his fingers had you seeing stars, the light-headed feeling going straight to your building arousal.

just like before, his hand traveled up to squeeze your cheeks and he was hovering over your mouth again, lips brushing against your own from the momentum of his thrusts. “let me kiss you again.” sukuna’s eyes were dark, unreadable.

you were quick to act at that, not letting him lean down, but rather craning your neck up to latch onto him, moaning as your mouth fell open for him to push his tongue in. his hand released your face to travel down to tweak at your nipples and grip your breasts again, other hand holding your leg steady against him. “filthy fucking slut.” he forced the words into your mouth, speaking around your lips that kept chasing after him. “fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”

sukuna’s attention returned to your neck, leaving you to gasp into the air and missing his warmth against your face. when his thumb found your clit, your breath hitched and you knew you so close to coming undone. the rubbing of his cock against just the right spots inside of you, filling you so wholly was not helping.

“su...kuna, please, i’m gonna—” you were babbling, chest heavy when his teeth sank into your shoulder, stinging. his wet kiss on the area was cooling, the contrast making your head tilt further back, wanting to give him easy access to whatever he wanted.

“i��ve got you.” he was whispering against the wet skin, voice low with his pants, and you shivered, digging your nails into his back even more. “come on, brat, you want to cum for me, don’t you?” yes, you did. the stretch, his hands everywhere at once, his scraping lips—yes, you wanted to let everything go.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” you let yourself come undone, heat filling your chest. everything was him—that’s all you knew in this state.

“look at you, creaming all over my cock. god, you’re so pretty. pretty little slut.” the words just kept flowing as he fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own release.

when he finally came, your hole was aching, abused, the sound of skin against skin the only thing you could focus on, mind cloudy. his cum was hot and filling when it spilled into you, your stomach doing summersualts at the feeling. his pace gradually began to slow, the sopping sound of him fucking his cum into you as he rode out his own high the only sound besides your ragged breaths. when he eventually stopped, he was leaning over you, sweaty foreheads pressed together, and he pushed one final bruising kiss to your lips that you gladly returned.

you were panting, chest rising and falling unevenly. “fuck, oh my god.” you reached up pull him back into another kiss, needing something to hold onto. it was an easy kiss, no thought going into its form, just knowing that lips were meant to be on each other and slotted together. his lips were so soft, and his fingers along your side were so soft, and his chest against yours was so soft and you were absolutely lost to everything.

sukuna finally pulled back to let you breath, knowing you were probably stupid enough to just keep pulling him in more and more and ignoring your lung capacity until the very last second unless he stopped you.

chests heaving, you stared at each other and he brought a thumb up to rub at your swollen lips. you flicked your tongue out to lick at the digit playfully and smiled. a laugh bubbled out of you and he returned the grin, his own deep chuckle vibrating through you where you were still pressed against each other.

it was laughing that you moved to push him to roll off of you. “oh my god, i can’t believe we just-” the hand that gripped your wrist, your own hands still planted on his chest, stopped you immediately. his smile had morphed back into one that was anything but sweet.

you were suddenly aware of the ache in your legs where they were still pressed over his shoulders and the dull throbbing of your pussy as it begged for a break, him still not having pulled out—the look on his face told you that you wouldn’t be getting a break from those sensations any time soon.

“who said we’re done?” his teeth glinted in the moonlight and god the line was so cliche and he must’ve known you’d hate it so much. what you hated even more was the throb in your core at his words despite all that. “wanted to cum in you at least once, but your tits-” he paused to squeeze one of them for emphasis, “are looking a little too clean.” body covered in sweat and marks all over your chest from his handiwork made you think clean wasn’t exactly the correct description, although you understood his sentiment.

surprise ridden expression falling away, you rose to meet his challenge, your own grin reflecting back. how would it feel when he came on your stomach, on your face, on your ass—anywhere and everywhere? would it be the same feeling as before when he’d spilled inside of you? (would you get to taste it?)

the thought was horrible, you knew, but the trickle of white out of your hole around his cock and dripping onto the sheets made you think maybe it was okay to be horrible for once.

“do your worst, king.”