#you wrote these long asks and i know they're a lot of work and i am just. very touched. thank you for giving me a piece of your brain

[corvidcrossbow]

~•♡•~ Double The Fangs, Double The Fun

➳ Summary: Daryl and Scud are regulars at the bar you work at, but they're only really there for you. One night while chatting, you injure yourself, so they help you home to heal up (Vamp!Daryl & Vamp!Scud x Fem!Reader)

➳ Era: idfk sometime, somewhere, no apocalypse (this is a crossover fic for smut lets be real)

➳ Word count: 5.5k (3k of it is smut)

➳ C/W: VAMPIRES ‼️‼️, minor wound, blood (duh), biting/vampire feeding, double penetration, hints of Scud's mommy kink

➳ A/N: I wrote doc title for this as “DTFx2” cuz of the lettering, not even realizing the “down-to-fuck” till later, plus it being 2 partners – I cooked on this title. BUT ANYWAY I AM FUELING THE VAMP!DARYL FIRE AND VAMP!SCUD TOO BECAUSE THIS IS A PLAGUE AND I AM ILL AND I WILL SPREAD IT

You stretched your arms up over your head, leaning forward against the counter in front of you. It was another slow weeknight, no customers present, hindered by the fact the bar was tucked away in some deader part of the city. It was pretty boring, but you got paid for kinda just diddleling around a lot of the time. You rhythmically tapped your fingertips against the surface, but straightened up when the door jingled open.

“Fuck, I was about to start praying you two would show up. ‘Ts borin' as shit in here,” You laughed as two familiar faces walked in from the night; Daryl and Scud. They were your regulars, stopping by most any time you were on shift. And you heard from coworkers sometimes they'd show up, see that you weren't there, and just leave.

You never found it creepy though, it wasn't like that. They were always very respectful towards you, kind of chivalrous, but not obnoxiously. They'd always buy a drink and tip heavy, or just straight up give you money – and would scare off the actually creepy drinkers: the one's that'd prey on a woman as if she was frail. You didn't require them, having pepper spray and a gun beneath the counter, but they gave you extra security. And we're good company.

Scud, who you knews real name was Josh – the more ‘loverboy’ one of the two – popped by most nights after work. He was really sweet, having grown a soft spot for him and letting him bend the rules; like allowing him to smoke a joint, or three, inside, so long as he shared them with you. He claimed he was a sort of engineer, which you found a little surprising given you'd never seen him without the skunky smell of weed wafting around his figure, but it's not like it mattered to you.

Daryl, on the other hand, was much more reserved, and you'd be lying if you said that didn't intrigue you. He appeared older, and more of a rarity, seeming to drift in and out of town: which made sense given that scratchy, deep southern accent he carried.

“Ain't gon’ pass up seein’ ya, moonshine,” Daryl grinned as he sauntered up to take a seat, Scud following right behind and taking the one opposite him. ‘Moonshine’ is what he always called you, given you were a bartender, and it was ironic because you never saw either of them till after sundown. “Shift slow?”

“Painfully,” You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Ion even know how we get enough profit to keep this place open. Not sure anyone in our staff remembers the last time we saw the owner in person. I swear this is some money laundering scheme.”

“‘Least your gettin’ paid, yeah? My boss don't even got me onna regular schedule,” Scud tisked, reaching into the pocket of his large, layered jacket and pulling out the container he kept his joints in. “Ya wanna J?”: To which you nodded and he passed you one. Daryl's observant gaze watched your every movement, as he typically did.

“Ya get yer nails done, darlin’?” He asked, squinting his pale blue eyes and setting his hand out as you lit the joint.

“Hm?” Your eyes flicked to him, understanding, and you set your palm in his hand so he could see. Pressed to your nail beds were coffin acrylics, painted a rich red, the gloss making them almost bloody. “Jus’ got ‘em done this morning. Figured if ‘m gonna be sittin’ here twiddling my thumbs half the time they might as well look good.”

“Looks perfect on ya.” Your gazes locked together for a moment, hypnotic in a way as his irises seemed to pulse, then suddenly shift down. He loomed closer and ran his thumb over your fingers, appreciating the gleaming texture that reflected in the dim light.

“Real pretty momma's,” Scud added as he took a long drag of his smoke, holding it for a moment before skillfully exhaling in a long plume that dissipated and began to fill the small space with a haze.

“Mm, thank you boys,” You turned a little, offering a bashful smile at their endless complimenting – they showered you with affectionate comments every time they came in. “Either of you want somethin’? It can be on the house, think the workers drink more than customers.”

“‘Ll take'ah whiskey – ‘nd m’payin’ ya anyway, angel,” Daryl replied, fishing for his wallet and passing you bills that more than doubled the price of a shot. Frankly you felt bad sometimes, like you were taking his money, but gave up a long time ago with trying to decline. He insisted.

As you went to grab the iconic bottle of Jack Daniel's off the shelf behind you, your elbow stuck out a bit too far and knocked over a large glass you'd been using for water, sending it to the floor where it shattered. “Ugh, never complain that you're bored at work. Fate'll always make ya clean.”

You quickly poured the auburn grog into a shot and slid it across the wood countertop to Daryl, dropping to your knees to pick up the larger shards.

“Fuck!” You seethed, accidentally slicing open the palm of your hand by sweeping it over the edge of a fragment in the other, your joint nearly falling from where you'd pinched it between your lips. Both men bounded from their stools to look over, simultaneously uttering ‘Ya alrigh's?''s. You half-clutched your fist and rose to be level again, hitching your breath with a small whine as striking pain electrified your nerves.

Blood quickly began to spill from the gash, running down your wrist and upper forearm before dripping to the floor a couple times as Daryl snapped to grab a clean rag from behind the bar so you could hold pressure, moving so fast he registered as just a whoosh. As your eyes were shut in pain, theirs were blown open, locked onto the crimson that tinted your skin. They could see the microscopic way it gushed a bit more from every beat of your heart.

Tendrils of that sweet, mind warping scent curled through the air and around the pair's bodies. God it smelled so damn good – you smelled so good. They didn't wish you harm, but they'd just been agonizingly waiting to someday, by some chance, get to smell the life-giving fluid that pumped through your veins without the blockage your skin created, keeping the complete experience inside of you. And they could only dream of getting to taste it…

You spun back to face them, and swore for a second, the color of both their blue eyes had altered to match the plasma soaking into the grey washcloth in your grip – their faces flat like they hadn't eaten in years and you just baited the idea of a gourmet feast. But once you blinked, they were back to azure, concern etched across eyebrows and frowns. Maybe it was just the shitty brilliance of the bar.

“‘M fine, jus’ being mindless I guess. Scud, how the hell are ya smokin’ and working with wires ‘n soldering shit,” You shook your head, blaming your incident on the brain fog from weed, although it was a poor excuse given it should not have taken effect that fast. Perhaps you were just embarrassingly locked on auto-pilot.

“Ya look like yer bleedin’ bad, princess. Lemme see.” Daryl beckoned you over and took your hand. His body tensed, that dangerous feeling of his canines extending creeping up. It took all he had to not press his mouth to you. He knew better, he had control. You let him remove the rag, examining the cut and finding it to be quite deep, him stating it might have to be closed

“We don't got any medical stuff here ‘sides maybe a few bandaids. I'd be surprised if anybody else came in ‘ere tonight so I'll just close up ‘n deal with it home. Sorry to cut our chat time short guys…” You gave a half frown, taking an unsteady inhale and trying to mask the aching in your extremity. You smothered the joint, enjoyment ruined.

“Don't gotta apologize mama's. Wantcha to be okay,” Scud commented, mirroring your expression. Looking between him and Daryl, you felt there was some synergy connecting them, like they were communicating despite both staring at you.

“Why don't we take ya home, mebbe have me patch tha fer ya, hm?” Daryl suggested, readjusting his leather jacket as he tilted his head slightly.

“Oh, no. I don't wanna bother either of ya with that…”

“‘Ts no bother, sugar. We wanna make sure you're safe. ‘Ts late, dark, ‘nd you're bleedin’. Don't want anythin’ bad happening to ya,” Scud explained, his every word ending on a sort of mewl as he plucked his joint from his mouth to speak clearly.

“Alright – just cause I know you two will follow me to check anyway.” You grabbed your things, Daryl and Scud helping to close up the bar so you didn't further injure yourself, then leaving with you. It was reasonable for them to come with, and this wouldn't be the first time. And this wasn't the safest part of town, so it wouldn't hurt to have them.

❥-》》—————➣

When you returned to your apartment, both of them praised your designing of the interior, having not been inside before. To you it wasn't much of anything special, but again, it was just in their nature to say kind things to you.

You nodded Daryl in the direction of your bathroom so he could grab some ointment and gauze, going to sit on the couch as Scud plopped beside you. You easily could've nursed it yourself, but if there was anything you really knew about Daryl, it was his tendency to always be doing favors – and not letting you decline.

“Y'know… I know a way tah make that heal faster than any dressings could,” Scud broke the silence, dragging his gaze over your frame, and landing on your hand where you still held the soiled rag. He couldn't fucking take it anymore. He didn't have the control that Daryl did.

“What do you mean?” You now faced him, confused at the way his breathing seemed to grow a bit heavier, chest puffing further out despite his lazy posture. But he straightened some, scooting closer to you and reaching for your hand.

“Just trust me on this…” He was salivating, bottom lip practically trembling with anticipation. He was so close, access to your fresh blood right there. God how he ached for it every time he saw your beautiful face, just so damn entranced by you. He tried not to completely lose his mind as he neared your palm.

“Um… yer gonna get it infected doin’ that.”

“Won't.” And his mouth hovered right above it.

“Seriously, Scud, what are you doing?” Now you were concerned, tempted to call Daryl back. Was this some weird sex thing? His way of trying to seduce you? Taking ‘kiss my boo-boo to make it feel better’ a bit too far. But you sensed this… energy, radiating off of him, drawing out your naïve trait of curiosity. Something felt different about him, although you guess it always did – but only now could you really perceive it, having him so close. “What are you? ”

Scud's eyes flicked up to yours, blue flipped across the scale of hues to match the color you'd caught a glimpse of at the bar – the color of your blood, and those flawless new nails. “Whadda ya think I am, sweetheart?”

As his lips peeled back with a grin, you could see the lengthy, pin-sharp fangs that descended from the roof of his mouth, glistening with his famine. Your mouth fell open, pupils dilating as realization worked through your brain. Oh shit. Oh, shit..? You didn't speak, but didn't know what to say anyway.

He chuckled at your reaction. “Jus’ relax, mama's.” Finally. His tongue darted out, dragging a long lick over the front of your wound, causing you to wince and jerk a little. It didn't particularly hurt, but was so odd at the start. Scud held back a moan, but couldn't help his remarks: “Mmm, you taste so good… bettah than I ever imagined…”

You swallowed thickly, watching him work saliva over your tender flesh, and lapping away any remnants of the blood that ran down your arm. He stared intensely into your eyes as he drew a long, excessively slow lick up your limb and back to the wound. You felt it begin to radiate, an unfamiliar warmth centralizing over the cut but spreading out into your entire palm.

He brushed his lips against your fingers with a featherlite kiss, and reluctantly pulled away, letting you watch branches of skin connect together from both sides, color quickly shifting back to your normal tone, and your hand completely unscathed. You flexed your tendons, feeling it for yourself. It was completely healed, a two-week time lapsing into under a minute.

“Why'd ya show ‘er.” Daryl's voice was stern, silently standing behind the couch and startling you as you whipped around. You should've figured – it wouldn't take that long to find simple first aid in your bathroom.

“Known ‘er for long enough, D. Why let'er suffer with some gash if we can just heal it for her?” Scud replied and shrugged innocently. But his wording was key; ‘we’.

“You're both vampires,” You nodded dryly as Daryl grumbled something under his breath and came around the couch to sit on the other side of you. Now the ‘moonshine’ was really ironic. “Okay… I assume if you were gonna drain me ya woulda done it by now.”

“Don't tempt me, baby,” Scud smirked, and Daryl shot him a harsh glare. “What? Sure she appreciates the healin’ at least!”

“Yeah, I do… but it's weirdly intimate, no? Just, wetly runnin’ yer tongue all over someone, gathering saliva on their skin, tastin’ the irony remnants of their blood-”

“Quit talkin’ like that,” Daryl hissed, your sight passing back to him, watching his adam's-apple bob and his jaw tense. His eyes reddened as well, and it dawned on you how teasing your choice of dialogue must've been for them.

“Or keep goin’. Like hearin’ your gorgeous voice say such pretty words,” Scud wet his lips, volume just above a whisper. You felt trapped between two sides of a spectrum, both equally covet… and you were way more into it than you would ever want to admit. Your jaw laxed with a weary breath, mind wandering further ahead than you liked it to. “But you're right, can be real intimate.” His voice dropped lower as he neared you, keeping sights intertwined.

“You're torturing me momma's… pleas’... would give anythin’ to feel ya,” He almost whimpered, puppy dog eyes peering up at you. “He would too, he's jus’ a lil’ more shy.”

It'd be the fattest lie of your life to say you didn't find him attractive, both of them. Closing the door behind you some nights after they'd walked you home, tempted to just bring them inside. How many times you muttered dirty words as your legs tangled in your bedsheets and you touched yourself, imagining how they'd sound in Scud's whiny hitches, or Daryl's gravelly grunts…

You reached up, taking Scud's chin in the light hold of your acrylics and bringing his mouth to yours. He directly melted, turning to puddy from that alone and cravingly dabbing your lips with his tongue. When you pulled back, he tried to follow, pining for more. But you wanted to be fair, and switched to the other man.

Daryl looked like he didn't know what to do, that effort of displaying confidence broken the second the gate he'd been waiting outside of for so long actually opened. But a quick ‘C'mere’, and the curling of your pointer finger brought him to you expeditiously, rough lips chafing over your moisted ones. He shoved away his groan, not quite ready for that yet.

“This ain't gonna stop at kissin’, right?” You checked on an exhale, both their eyes boring into you from either plane, the patterns of their breathing reworking themselves. Dropping it here would be teasing you now.

“S’ain't gon’ stop less ya want it to, moonshine,” He rasped, irises captivating and luring you back to him, clawed hand coming to his cheek – that made the groan slip. He inhaled sharply, ardently guiding his tongue into your mouth, which definitely made Scud jealous.

The engineer brought his hands to your waist, toying with the seams of your shirt as Daryl harshly tugged you closer to him, gaining momentum, growing hungrier. He explored the entire cavity of your mouth, feeling the heat of your gums, the smoothness of your teeth in comparison to his canines, and drew a moan from your throat, hints of a smile crinkling.

“Yer not good at hidin’ whatcha want, honeysuckle,” The southerner purred, trailing down to your jawline as Scud's lips pressed to the nape of your neck. You weren’t sure if he could tell by your body language, or was able to read your mind or something; all the near whorish thoughts running through your psyche.

“Then you should know how long I've thought about this.”

Daryl immediately hooked his strong arms under your thighs, shoving Scud back to stand up off the couch, your legs instinctively latching around his torso as he started to leave a hickey on your neck and find his way to your bedroom.

Scud awkwardly stood behind for a second, shyly glancing to the floor, feeling literally and figuratively pushed aside by the other's dominance. “C'mon Scuddy,” You mouthed, and he looked like he came in pants right there – hurdling to track after you.

Daryl roughly threw you onto the edge of your bed, simultaneously ripping your shirt up over your head. He reached down for the button of your jeans, quickly popping it out and tearing them off, leaving you in just your lacey, red bra and panties.

“Jeez, you ‘nd fuckin’ red, woman.” He bordered on a growl, sliding off his jacket and tossing it to the floor. You sat upright on the rim the mattress, aiding Scud in dropping his many layers, but he teetered like he just wanted to fuck himself senseless with all it still on.

Both them now shirtless, you raked your nails down their chest, taking extra notice to follow the lightning-like scars carved into Scud's abdomen to your left. You let out a breathy curse at their defined v-lines and mouthwateringly sexy happy trails, discarding Daryl's belt, and gently cupping his pulsing erection through his jeans – the same through Scud's cargos.

One twitched, then the other, and you chuckled. “You two really want me that bad, huh?” You questioned, beaming up through your lashes with a flirty smirk: but that mischievous temping simmered seeing the pure lust on their features. They looked like they were gonna eat you alive, and honestly… you wouldn't mind it.

You undid their pants to drop them down, and with some sort of unspoken permission translating between the three of you, they pounced forward, resistance snapping like twigs. Scud hauled your body up the bed and instantaneously found your lips, already gasping into your mouth. His hands each found one of your breasts, fondling and pawing impatiently through your bra.

Daryl grabbed your hips, tugging you back down a little and drawing a wet lick from the hem of your panties up your navel, holding you to him as your spine arched. He kissed and sucked at the delicate skin on your pelvis and inner thighs, leaving behind litters of those gentle bruises on the surface, spotting across the curves of your body. His fangs grazed you as he worked, a persistent reminder of what a feral vampire could just take from you – but he was a humble man, and prefered to give.

You directed Scud to strip your bra, given he'd basically lost all ability to function the second your clothes were off, and even worse once he was on you. Now with your chest fully out, he was gone. He greedily sucked one nipple into his mouth, kneading the other like a cat, while Daryl curled a finger around the hem of your panties, deliberately running from side to side before he suddenly ripped them away – literally ripped. “Promise ‘ll buy ya new ones, babydoll.”

Whatever deeply guttural noise that erupted from you when Daryl's tongue made contact with your cunt was everything but holy. Your hips bucked up into his face so rapidly it almost caught him off guard, his palms splayed out on your thighs and his mouth latched onto your clit. He sucked in rapid pumps, before trawling down then back up and spreading your folds. He lapped up every bit of your pooled wetness, taking a deep inhale and the hidden claws in his fingertips nearing shooting out as his toes curled.

“Fuck! Yer pussy smell's'so fuckin’ good.” His words came out as near snarls, reverberating against your core. Should the view of him not have been obscured by Scud, you're sure you would've came at the sight of him so deeply intoxicated by just the scent of you. “‘Nd tastes so goddamn lovely.”

“‘Ts not fair, man, ah wanna taste ‘er-”

“Nah. Ya got ‘er hand, pussy's mine.” Now he was snarling, possessive crimson eyes stabbing into the other man as he'd turned to look back at him, burying himself deeper into your cunt and earning another wild moan. Scud frowned a little, but you brought your hands to his hips and readjusted him to be sitting on your chest, legs on either side of your body.

“Don't worry, baby.” And you rolled down his boxers so his dick was free: fully hard, tip swollen up and flushed with color, absolutely weeping for you, and it bobbed with a twitch. You wrapped your hand around the base, giving a few pressurized strokes as he bowed forward over your head and straight up whimpered in your ear, aching and pulsing and starved of touch and attention.

“Oh-.. God, momma's… t’so good…” He wove his fingers through your hair to tug lightly at the roots and anchor himself. But the second you put your tongue on him, he jerked forward and shoved into your mouth, cumming abruptly. He couldn't help it, you were; “Jus’ so warm…”

Still you swallowed it down, swiveling the tip of your tongue along the underside of his head, prolonging his high. You weren't surprised; with how frenzied he was, acting like he'd been edged for far too long – which you supposed he had, based on how he talked earlier – you pegged him for the kind to cum fast. He probably wanted you to actually peg him too.

Daryl tipped a domino by chuckling at the early orgasm, the sound waves making you moan around Scud's cock, which in return made him slide a bit deeper again. Daryl started to hum, and removed one hand from your thigh to slip two girthy fingers into you, curling them up and pressing into that sensitive spot in your walls. He focused his mouth on your clit, drawing it in with suction while he rapidly wagged his tongue, soon pumping his fingers in and out of you, and your moans picked up.

The shallow edge of Scud's claws inched further out and held your skull, careful to not scrape into your skin, but exigent nonetheless. His breathing descended into ragged heaving against the side of your head as you worked his cock like you knew every little thing that got him going.

“Getch'yer dick outta her mouth so Ah can hear ‘er cum,” Daryl barked, breaking contact from you for just a moment. Scud groaned, wanting so badly for you to deepthroat him, but he shifted over to the side, knowing Daryl would forcibly do it anyway. Now he moved impossibly faster, fingers stretching you open and filling the bedroom with wet noises from how he had you dripping.

Getting to hear you clearly now sent him into overdrive, grunting against your clit while Scud just laboriously returned to toying with your boobs. “C'mon girl, jus’ cum. Cum fer me. Wanna see yer gorgeous face.”

“Jesus, Daryl-” Your sentence split, and you cried out, trembling legs coming together and forcing him flush against you. You rode his face, a hand flying down to tug at his sweat-dampened locks and assisting you in rolling your hips. He clutched you bruisingly hard, nearing ripping into you.

When your limbs relaxed again, he lavished long licks over your cunt, swirling the tangy, sticky nectar of your release over his entire mouth. “Mos’ perfect fuckin’ thing.”

“Pleas’ mommas, can I fuck ya?” Scud pleaded, cupping your face to catch his distress. Sharing was hard when one party was so much more controlling. Poor thing needed you.

But seeing Daryl yank down and discard his boxers, hard cock visibly throbbing and tip shaded red, he needed you too. And you could tell a blowjob just wouldn't settle it for either of them. “Fuck, just-.. both of you fuck me.”

“Can ya handle two, sweetheart?” Daryl exhorted, swiping a strayed bit of hair from your forehead and deftly tucking it back, slightly softened eyes checking for sincerity in your expression. With your nod, they acclimated to desire once again.

He flipped onto his back, and manhandled your body overtop of him, your back flattened on his chest, and Scud hurriedly positioning above. Daryl kept your legs spread apart with his, reaching around and palming at your breast while going down to slick himself between your soaked folds, slapping himself against you a couple times. “Ya tell us if s'too much, alrigh’?”

“Yea, yeah- please, just fuck me already,” You wailed as he angled you down and slipped deep into you, Scud giving you a second to adjust before coating spit over his shaft, and gently guiding into you as well.

Your back arched as Daryl held you firm, whining in delectable pain as they strained you further open than you ever had been, your acrylics digging into his waist beneath you. Scud layered himself onto you, sucking another hickey into your chest then rocking his hips a couple of times.

When you handled it well, Daryl took it as a cue to join him, plodding more in his thrusts to still give you the opportunity to bail if this wasn't to your liking. Your eyelids fluttered closed, head lulling back to rest on Daryl's shoulder as your heavy breaths fell in line with the pace. When Scud pushed in, Daryl would pull out, and vice versa: always keeping you full while maintaining the motion that granted so much ecstasy to you three. Every one of their filthy noises sounded incomprehensibly better than you'd ever pictured.

Scud mewled against you, head buried into your breasts and giving quick pecks or licks any time he wasn't being uncontrollably vocal. Daryl did the same, groaning into your shoulder and hair.

“Takin’ us so good, arentcha darlin’? So wet, pussy so tight,” Daryl hushed into your ear, hooking up faster and faster following each of his thrusts like the speed was on a multiplier.

You twisted fingers in the back of Scud's head, triggering a loud whine when you tugged on the roots of this hair and that metal choker he always wore. He started to waver, weakly humping you like his brain was fried and just focusing on staying as deep inside you as he could. “Mmm… mommy, I… ‘m so hungry. Please…” The hinges of his jaw started extending on their own, humid exhales dampening an area by your neck. Tasting hints of your blood earlier spawned a black hole that decimated the sinkhole he'd previously had caving in over time. In the near year he'd known you, that urge to just feed from your tender flesh was all he ever thought about. And now, warm walls of your cunt wrapped around him, urging him to another orgasm… He couldn't wait much longer, he was starving.

Daryl planted his feet to make up for Scud's faltering rhythm, the strengthful build of his hips and thighs making it easy to lift you. He was trying so hard to focus on just fucking you, but as the other vampire's imploring got the best of him, he started to follow suit. “Ya know yer'a damn tease, righ’ moonshine? Lookin’ so sexy all tha time, tha seductive scent ah yers… Fuck, I kno’ ya taste like heaven…” He craned his neck up, applying pressure to your carotid artery with his tongue, feeling everything he wanted pump through you at a rapid rate.

You took in a shaky breath, vivacity emanating from the both of them and encircling you. Their dicks throbbed inside of you, the drifter pistoning while the engineer hunched, but that just wasn't enough, and it made the craving so much more pressing. Their pairs of fangs rested on the edges of your skin, tracing over it, each on one side.

“Shit… just do it-.. Jus’ fuckin’ do,” You panted, and it happened so fast you barely even realized it. Scud's bite was eager, being more frantic and on your left: Daryl's more longing, savoring the feeling of piercing into your silky flesh on the right. They drew long siphons into their throats, sultry crimson flooding their systems as their eyes blazed a mutual color.

A strangled moan ripped from your being, your consciousness floating in a haze. Daryl fucked you faster, empowered by your smooth blood, grunting savagely as his razor-edged talons dug into your breasts, Scud's on your waist: but they were so careful to not rip you up.

“Mmmnngh… oh, gods momma, m’gonna cum…” Scud lost any last sense of his composure, curving his spine and slicking out of you to cum over your pelvis. He whimpered like an injured dog, anchoring himself with the teeth lodged in you, grinding against you a few times to ride out the bliss as he messied your body with lengthy ropes of white. Waves of body-wracking pleasure made him writhe around on your chest, lost in some other realm.

“Fuck… cum fer me again, dollface. Know yer good fer me,” Daryl mumbled against you, driving into your cunt with every newfound bit of liveliness he garnered from feeding on you. Your brain stopped working at this point – those red acrylic nails scratching at Daryl's thigh with your left, and Scud's back with your right.

You felt lightheaded, loss of ichor incapacitating you even as they'd ceased thirsting, just keeping fangs planted in your muscles. The crest of euphoria floated your soul to nirvana, Daryl's tip brushing past one specific golden point in your walls and shoving you off the cliff of your climax, tightening his hold on you as you bowed and bucked, vision stripped from your senses.

Your pussy spasmed and massaged around the southerner's cock, and with a final few abusing thrusts, he withdrew and spilled his own load over your folds, resistant moans rumbling from his vocal cords. All three of your chests heaved intensely, fighting to steal any oxygen from the lust-filled atmosphere of your bedroom.

Daryl's hands drifted to your midsection to push up and roll Scud off of you to the left, knowing he was too much of a fucked out mess to do it himself. He gently laid you between the two of them, smoothing a caring hand over your chest and pressing a kiss to your upper arm. “Ya feelin’ okay, moonshine? Didn't take too much, righ’?”

“Yea, ‘m good.., jus’ need a minute,” You wheezed, eyes shut and soma trying to recuperate. Daryl peeled himself from the bed, going to wet a rag, and fetch some water and food. Returning, he compassionately cleaned away the cum smeared across your curves, supporting you as he helped you drink and all – then gathered extra layers of healing saliva over your puncture wounds just to make sure they'd seal over.

He soothed you by tracing patterns with his calloused palm, the three of you resting for a long while and wrapping thoughts around what just happened.

Scud snaked his arm around yours and cuddled right up against your side, keeping lips pressed against you with his whiny hums. “Wanna feel more'ah ya mommas…” To only say he was needy was an understatement, he was full on reliant – vampiric endurance adapting the role of an exponent for such.

“Let ‘er rest.”

You brought your nails to Scud's scalp, gently scratching his head and he practically began to purr. Even if Daryl shoved him off, you appreciated how benevolent he was to you, and could tell he felt less-than right now, lacking your focus. “That spit of yours work on swellin’ too?”

He nodded with a mumbly ‘Mhm…’

“Then how bout'cha lick my pussy till it feels better, ‘nd we'll keep goin’ till botha ya are ran dry, hm?” You suggested, planting a kiss on the top of his head and sensing the energy shift.

And they were both on all over again in an instant.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

[brother-emperors]

I'm so sorry if you get tired of answering asks about Pompey and Crassus BUT your response to the anon asking if Crassus let Pompey get away with things really got me thinking! Specifically about the way that Plutarch (I think?) says that Crassus didn't hold ill-will against Pompey for "stealing" his triumph. And how it feels like Crassus just kind of decided to shrug it off and instead asked Pompey for help for the consulship elections. Crassus seems so ruthless and direct while on the field, and I have so many questions about how he and Pompey worked together in Spoletium which will never be answered 😭 But then when it comes to politics I really can't see the pattern!

oh, I love talking about Crassus (and Pompey too, by extension), literally I can't stop. you can ask several people. I'll be talking about one thing, and all of a sudden: Crassus has entered the conversation. it's terrible, I can't stop. mostly, it takes me a thousand years to articulate my thoughts in any kind of way that makes sense.

I actually think that there are two times that Crassus subtextually calls Pompey a bitch, and the triumph incident is one of them!

specifically in that Crassus's comment about it:

Crassus, for all his self-approval, did not venture to ask for the major triumph, and it was thought ignoble and mean in him to celebrate even the minor triumph on foot, called the ovation, for a servile war.

Crassus is also not the first person to hold this sentiment.

Crassus' Ovation in 71 B.C., B.A. Marshall

I think it's important to remember that for Rome as a whole, the Third Servile War was terrifying because of the scale of the threat it posed to how an imperial wheelhouse running on a slave economy functions, but also because it's really fucking embarrassing for Rome's identity.

Crassus is also not the first person who commands the leading role against Spartacus. Spartacus goes through two other commanders before Rome asks Crassus to enter the scene. Crassus specifically is a private citizen when he is asked to step into this role: up until now, Rome's own praetors and consuls have failed to rise to the occasion.

Crassus' Ovation in 71 B.C., B.A. Marshall

Marcus Crassus and the Late Roman Republic, Allen Mason Ward

this is a deeply humiliating moment for the Roman reputation and identity. Pompey taking credit for Crassus' victory is an expected power grab, but it's also kind of cringe that he did it. Crassus was doing Roman's Duty To The State (or, if you like a spicier take on it, may have pulled strings for it. after all, you can't consider a man rich unless he can fund his own army. and the army Crassus brought with him for this was is own)

and so taking credit for that is like. man. this was NOT a "glorious war" that was fought. (Lucullus cites this as a blemish on Pompey's character during his vulture speech, it's very fun!)

so while Crassus may have realized that writing back to Rome and requesting back up was a mistake because whoever showed up would have the world's easiest time taking credit and accepted that it would happen, I do think that he took alternative measures to even the playing field in a 'okay sure, have your triumph, but don't think you're going to have it all,' kind of way because he also does this

Marcus Crassus and the Late Roman Republic, Allen Mason Ward

Pliny, Natural History 15.125

Gell. NA 5.6.23

Cic. Pis. 58

which does not strike me as the behavior of someone who is letting Pompey just run away with it without any kind of pushback.

and now to throw out literally everything I just said about the Triumph Incident, B.A. Marshall (whose article I've cited several times already in this) has an incredibly compelling case to make that there wasn't really as much conflict between the two over this as ancient narratives might indicate (which. seems to be a recurring theme with them)

Crassus' Ovation in 71 B.C., B.A. Marshall

I will stick to my narrative speculation that some of their respective peers probably thought it was at least embarrassing behavior on Pompey's part, because Lucullus has a lot of vitriol to direct at Pompey, and he does cite this incident as something negative to Pompey's overall character) someone who steals credit and glory from other people). so. hm. I think the assumed personal and periodically biting rivalry (in addition to the usual political rivalry) between the two is extremely fun, but so is. this. thoughts! much to think about.

[ofallthingsnasty]

Your last answer to another anon dropped so much lore!!!! im so invested in your ocs and reader characters(along with how you write Micah haha) its not even funny lol And it honestly made me sit down and try to figure out which of the reader characters( along with their kids) in 'capture kill' and 'through the briar' have it the worst💀 So I thought I would post my findings lmaoo

Bill Pros: Reader is actually allowed to go outside by themselves😱

Can yell at Bill and vent frustrations😂

Have a super sweet mother in law that will help you out as much as she can

Bill actually financially provides for you and your kids

Probably live in a pretty nice house

Cons: Can go outside but not without Bill making sure you smell like him, jealous old man smh -_- so lets hope you can walk afterwords💀

Deadbeat dad that is barely involved with the house work and raising the kids

Will not stop smoking near your kids

Reader is probably never allowed to say no when Bill wants some ass cause he sees her as property🥲

Poisons your sons with a bunch of toxic masculinity bleh

So I would give an 8/10 on how much it would suck to be married to Bill, would still choose him over Evan any day tho ( Evan is scarier in my opinion😭)

Evan Pros: Evan is an actually an involved father

Does love his son and raises him semi-well

Probably also live in a nice house( if you are even allowed out of the basement to see the rest of it)

Is pretty loving to the reader( unbearably so ugh)

Will help out with housework and keeping everything in order

Cons: Reader is never allowed to touch grass ever again

Will lose 'privileges' if she acts out 😬

Your son probably thinks its totally normal that mommy is kept in the basement, and is probably being taught that kidnapping your future partner is completely fine👌

I give an 9/10 on how much it would suck to be married to Evan, honestly being stuck with him sounds awful🥲 You are forever trapped and if you act out, you get punished, badly.

Micah Pros: He leaves reader in peace for extended periods of time so she doesn't have to deal with his bull that often

Reader can better protect her kids(especially her son or sons ugh imagine two or three mini Micahs running around🫠) from Micah's influence since he's gone for a lot of the time

If we are going with the canon, then reader only has to deal with Micah for a couple more years🙃

Cons: Reader and her kids are struggling financially cause Micah probably only gives her 10 bucks and a box of crackers to tie them over for the next month smh

Don't think he ever actually officially marries reader, he probably just pulled the good old 'you're mine now no take backs' move on reader lol

Micah doesn't really have much, if any form of affection for you(definitely doesn't love you💀 he cares more about his guns than you lmao) So don't expect him to treat the reader well just because she's the mother of his children.

Micah will be one of those mfs that demand his husband 'privileges' from you whenever he comes back home ugh

Probably live in the middle of nowhere in some run down cabin that Micah 'removed' the previous occupants from😶

Will poison your son or sons with toxic masculinity and with generally awful life lessons yikes

I give a 10/10 on how much it would suck to be married to Micah. Being stuck with this blonde bastard sounds like hell omg, please shoot him now John lol😭

After thorough research (lmao) In my opinion its a close match of who has it the worst between the reader that is stuck with Evan and the reader from 'through the briar'. So yeah I would choose Bill if I really had no other choice😓 But if you read this ridiculously long list hahaha, who do you think has it the worst?

Holy shit, anon... You SAT DOWN and ANALYZED who has it the worst between these two fics? I am actually speechless, this is such an honor omfg.

(Also lmao you're so funny "If we are going with the canon, then reader only has to deal with Micah for a couple more years🙃" and "Micah probably only gives her 10 bucks and a box of crackers to tie them over for the next month smh" I am cackling)

I think you're spot on, actually. Evan is really easy to underestimate but he's genuinely... not well when it comes to you. I think I mentioned it somewhere in an answer to an ask ages ago, but he actually has no issue with seriously hurting you for what he perceives to be "the greater good". That includes either taking a limb or shattering (and not properly mending) bone. Yes, he'll probably cry while he does it, will swear up and down that he hates doing this (and he does, he does) - but he has to do this. He's not the fun type of yandere. His little thing for you is kinda cute on the surface - until he has his first panic attack over you not answering your phone. (That is, if you two started dating 'the normal way'. Hah.) Personally, I think Micah is the worst out of the three, as well - simply because he has no issue with immediately resorting to violence. (And not with misguided motives like Evan, either.) Once he has you in a remote place and something isn't the way he wants it, I can actually see him getting physically abusive. We saw how he had no issue with shooting Maddy in Strawberry although she (probably) had hardly anything to do with that "unfinished business". I think running with Dutch kept him in check, reined him in. (He had to adhere to the rules of the gang, at least a little bit.) Another clue is Amos' letter to him - Amos being so scared for his family, his daughters, makes me think that Mister Bell is actually way worse than we've seen in the game. He already doesn't love you. You have your uses, yes, you're his - but fucking hell, you're a lot of fucking work, too. He has to keep you fed along with his brats and you're not even a pretty face to look at (to him. Now if we asked Arthur, that man would have married you immediately. But, as you know. Micah happened.) And maybe, that's the crux of this whole thing. There is no love here - there is with Evan and Bill. With them, if you were to completely give up one day, you'd have a (very controlled but) decent life, as far as the circumstances go. With Micah? Oh, you can try and try and try again, it will never be enough.

[dolldefiler]

This isn't the first ask I've sent you- you already know how much I love your writing! But would you ever consider writing more public sex scenarios?

Something like a girl getting fucked on a crowded subway train, with other passengers pressed up against her. It starts out subtle, with him trying to see how much he can get away with, but soon he's fucking her so good they both stop caring if anyone sees. Maybe no one does see- maybe one or two people notice and flush and look away- hell, maybe the whole subway car catches on and she's suddenly surrounded by people gasping and staring and taking photos, all while this guy's cock is just destroying her, with her eyes rolling back and drool dripping down her lips.

Maybe at that point he gives up all pretense of secrecy and just slams her against the wall or throws her over a chair, or rips off her clothes right where they're standing, while the other passengers scatter out of the way. She'll have to finish her commute in torn, ruined clothes, with cum all over her and a fucked-out expression that just won't go away. (can you tell I've thought about this more than I'd care to admit? i've had lots of long commutes, lol)

Anyway. No pressure to write something like that, since I know how busy you are. But if inspiration strikes, and you have time…well. I'd really appreciate it <3

Hello, hello, I've not done too much public scenarios but I wrote this based off your very wonderfully written ask. I hope I've not butchered it, and thank you so much for the inspiration! I'll try to work on more pieces :)

C/W: Public sex, rape

Hello there, miss. Hush. Quiet now. You wouldn’t want them to see what I’m doing to you now, would you? You wouldn’t want the other passengers to see me molest your fat ass, would you? That’s a good girl. No, no, there’s no need to cry. Once I get my fill of your gorgeous fucking body, I’ll leave. You know me, don’t you? We’ve taken the same train for months now. Every morning I have to endure your perfect fuckdoll body passing by me without being able to touch it. Not today.

Shh, quiet now. God, was that moan? Don’t tell me you like some stranger slipping his hands up your blouse to fondle your tits? Does your boyfriend not feel up your tits as well as I do? Mhm? Yeah, it is. Yeah, that’s my cock. Do you like it? Do you like my big, hard cock pressed up against you? If I slipped it in you right now, do you think the guy next to you would notice? God, do you think he fantasises about your slutty body as much as I did?

Shit… FUCK-, well I guess there’s no need to be quiet. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you feel so much better than I imagined. Your cunt’s gripping my dick like you’re a natural whore. God, look at that. Everyone’s looking at you. They’ve even- fuck yes- they’ve even got their phones out. Look! You’re going to be a pornstar now! 

Get off that seat. I’m going to fuck her on it. Let’s get you settled here… Shit, yes. Shit, your pussy’s a premium fucking fleshlight, isn’t it? God, you don’t need this blouse, do you? Let’s just tear it off you. God, look at those fucking tits swinging while I bounce you up and down my cock. What a lewd fucking sight it must be for our audience.

God yes, get on your knees. You look so pretty with those glazed eyes. Let’s finish them off with some thick cum. Shit, this is the best train journey I’ve had with you. Fuck yes, it’s coming. I’m CUMMING. Ugh, let’s paint your face with my cum.

Anyone want a picture? She's real cute like this, isn't she? Does anyone know where she works?

[fakesimp]

Fiery Love

Warning !

Vox Akuma x Reader x Shu Yamino ; The use of Vox's 2.0 and 3.0 fit ; The use of Shu's 2.0 fit ; Mentions of Blood, Murder ; Unestablished Polyamorous Relationship

The world I wrote in this fic is Not Canon ! This fic took place in the Past timeline !

<- Part 1 ||

A/n !

This is getting interesting.

➶◜◝➴

Red,

All you see is just, red, blood splatters everywhere, dead bodies lies before you.

Some are also burned to ashes, a lot have happened in a span of 10 minutes, screams and cries of agony is what you heard in that moment.

And now it's silent, nothing but the sound of leaves rustling, the smell of blood made you want to barf, you couldn't look up at the two figures before you.

You've seen them in action, and now you're speechless, Good God you're now confused if you want to run away or stay. They both were looking at the scene they did before them, but then their body turned facing you.

"So, you're still planning to stick around?" Shu asked with the most casual tone ever, as if he did not just burnt these beasts, or yokais, or whatever that they're fighting with to ashes.

He burnt them just within seconds ! While Vox at the other hand, sliced them to half, and then Shu burnt them again.

Endless loop of Slicing and Burning, until there's nothing left behind but ashes.

Your eyes glistened as you look up at them, clueless on what to do, "I mean I don't mind to consume you all up, but since I have to share, I have to slice you to half" the thought of you getting sliced flows into your head, making you tremble under their gaze.

Vox took his sweet time wiping his katana, cleaning the blood off, before walking up to you, stabbing the katana down to the ground next to you as he kneeled in front of you, hand on your chin. He smiled mockingly at you, "Are you afraid ? Where did those confidence of yours go hm? I thought you were so eager to enter the forbidden forest." He said his grip on your chin tightens.

"Come on Vox, you're scaring them" Shu said as he approach both of you, standing near Vox looking down at you who's being held still by the Demon. "They were the one that's being so, stubborn upon entering, and now they have their tail in between their legs after seeing what happened." His golden eyes narrowed, glaring down at you with disappointment.

"It's human natures Vox, I already warned them about curiosity, but I believe they didn't listen thoroughly." Shu sighed softly before his violet eyes glistens under the red moon, your eyes look at Vox and Shu's. "You have a chance to run away you know?" Shu pointed out and chuckled, "You could push him away and turn, and then get those legs to work."

Your hands trembled as you held Vox's wrist, trying to push him away, but you failed. Vox could only sigh at you, he pulled his hand away from you, shaking the dirt off his pants. "I'll make this quick, just close your eyes and you'll feel nothing."

Your body refuses to listen to you, they're frozen under their dangerous gaze. You see Vox's katana being pulled out, by instinct you closed your eyes and prepared yourself for the impact.

But as you wait, you felt nothing came to you, instead you felt like someone is hugging you, a familiar scent goes into your nose, you recognize this smell.

You then heard a gentle whisper right next to your ear, "Such a cute obedient Human, stay still, don't open your eyes until I said so."

It belongs to Shu.

. . .

You don't know what's happening, you don't know where Shu and maybe Vox, taking you to. All you could do is just listen to the Sorcerer's command, and wait for him to say it's safe to open your eyes.

How long has it been? You don't know.

. . .

"Okay, you can open your eyes now" You finally heard his voice after this suspenseful silence between you, you no longer felt his warmth around you as you slowly open your eyes.

It was so bright, it took you a moment to be able to see what's going on, you blinked, and again. And you see a glimpse of pink, falling down.

Oh.

You're back at the house, instead of being in the dark, the sun is high up in the sky, shining down at you, Shu and Vox. You heard the Sakura trees rustling against each other, some of the petals falling down from the trees making the scenery look endearing to admire.

"W, Why am I here?" You hesitantly asked, as you look at the two who's now standing before you, their backs facing you, Vox is the first to turn his body to you, "Curious now are you, little human?" Vox said before taking a step closer towards Shu, whispering something before he left, walking into the house.

"Are you not tired?" Is the first thing Shu asked, "Why do you give up so easily?" He asked again, he looked over his shoulder, his violet eyes staring down at yours. Confused, also curious on why your doing this.

"I, I don't know.." You are also confused on why you kept on coming back to the forest despite you have confirmed the rumors, all you want to know is that, are they real or not. And you have confirmed it long time ago, so why do you keep on coming back?

"Hmm," Shu chuckled softly, and then you felt something on your head, you glanced up. To see Shu patting your head, the glint in his eyes seems, different. It seems gentler, also friendlier? The same look he gave you before.

"You're a lucky one," He whispered, "Because Vox will never delay soul consumption." Shu continued. He then took a step back, extending his hand out towards you. Waiting for you to put your hand on top of his, "You're staying over for awhile, since the yokais have seen you, it is not safe for you to go back." He then pulled you off the ground as soon as you placed your hand on top of his gloved hand.

"You'll only bring danger if you return back to the village," He glanced at the distance, before looking back at you, with his identic V-shaped smile. "You don't want that to happen now do you?" He asked oh so innocently, with the gentle smile plastered on his face. "N, No.."

"Oh how considerate of you," He smiled, "Thinking of others first before yourself." Shu lead you into the house, "Are you tired? Do you want to rest?" Shu asked as he slide the door open for you. "I don't think, I can sleep.." Your reply made the Sorcerer chuckled, "Fair enough, shouldn't have asked then"

You both then walked in silence, you don't know where he's taking you, but you didn't bother to ask where you two are going, you only eyed him curiously when Shu stopped in front of a room.

He glanced back at you, smiling for a moment before slide the door open, revealing Vox who's leaning against a floor table, a smoking pipe in his hand. He tilt his head back a bit, looking at Shu who's walking close to the table and sat across him. "Hmh, Of course you couldn't sleep." Vox said as he then look back at the backyard, there is one beautiful large sakura tree. It looks old, yet the beauty of it still last till today.

You sat in between the two, Shu sent out some, floating papers away, you stared at them glide away from the room you three are in. You recognize those, those are shikigamis.

Not long after the shikigamis left, they returned again, holding 3 cups, and a teapot. Shu whispered a thank you at them before snap them away, "Tea?" Shu asked as he already start pouring the tea into the cups. "Yes please, if you may.." You said as you watch him pour the tea into the last cup, "Enjoy your tea" Shu gently pushed the cup towards your direction.

The two of you drank down the tea, silence basked between the three of you, Vox who was smoking finally put down the smoking pipe, and drank the tea Shu poured down for him.

"Hmmm.. Finest quality, did you get it from the usual?" Vox cuts the silence, Shu hummed softly as he pour the tea again into his cup. "Yes, It is, they had a new set, I decided to bought some. The taste is quite nice.."

The two talked about tea, then other topics that you don't really know what exactly they're talking about but you didn't comment on it.

It was quite peaceful, hearing the two chattering, the sakura trees outside rustling, the birds chirping. It is a nice day.

. . .

You didn't realize the time pass so fast together with them, the moon already back up at the sky. "Let's get you to bed, who do you want amongst us to company you?" You stared at the Sorcerer, confused. "Huh? " Shu chuckled, "It's no good if you are left alone in the bedroom, don't worry, we have no plans on doing anything on you if that's what you're thinking" Your face immediately flushed red, "I-! I didn't even thought that way!"

Shu just laughed at your reaction as he lead you to the bedroom, the room have a terrace. "Well? Have you decided?" You were thinking so hard, you want Shu to company you because of how approachable he looks, but you're also curious about the Demon. You want to know more about him, you remember how soft his face when he talked with Shu about something he's fond of.

"I don't, know.." You frowned, "Can't you both, company me? Does that sound, too greedy?" The Sorcerer didn't say anything, he then let out a small laugh. "Two is better than one, hm?"

. . .

You're on the futon, the two is at the terrace, drinking tea, chattering in a whisper. While you in the room, getting yourself comfortable in the futon.

Soon, drowsiness falls upon you, slowly your eyes closes and you drifted off into the dream world.

While you are sleeping, the two are still talking to each other until silence occupied their conversation. Shu and Vox enjoying the silence, but then the Sorcerer broke it.

"You have no intentions on eating them aren't you?" Vox glanced at him, "No." He replied short, his eyes narrowed slightly, he then frowned upon the thought of 'consuming' them. "You are such a gentleman." Shu chuckled softly, "You should try go softer towards them, they seemed scared of you, you know?" He continued as he sip his tea. "Hmm.. Perhaps, maybe I could do that. Not now though."

. . .

The moon is still high up in the dark sky, and it is still red. It will took a week or so until this red moon phase completely disappear, Shu and Vox, have been protecting every village they could find. Defending them off from those Yokais who's looking for Humans to feast on, but of course humans doesn't know this.

They don't need to know, The two despise the thought of being worshipped. They would rather eat up those rumors of them being on the evil side, that's why they didn't bother do anything about those rumors going around.

. . .

"My, look at this delicious Human. Getting all greedy now are you? Not sharing them with us?"

"Now now, we have no plan on eating them"

Vox and Shu immediately whip their head towards the owner of the voices, the two figures walked out from the dark, one smirking while the other gave a soft, genuine smile.

"Miss me?"

"Greetings"

©fakesimp . 2023

How are we feeling guys? Lol I hope you guys like this part, though genuinely I am not even sure where this is going, but I have an idea, but it's kinda messed up lol.

|| Part 3 →

A/n !

Anyways ! The next part will be uploaded if this fic reaches 300 notes, again. Good luck !

"I am not real,

I do hope you remember that,

You still have that dumb smile, you like me that much huh? since the last time I paid a visit, you always have that dumb smile on your face.

What? Don't look at me like that, I'm talking to you.

Yeah you who's reading this? Tho I have seen a lot new faces, how fascinating."

[flanaganfilm]

hi mike, saw someone say your ask box was open and i came running! have you ever had any ideas as to how the crain family would be getting on now a few years later/what they're doing? it's always in the back of my mind wondering if creators also wonder about those sort of things themselves once their project has ended. thanks so much & hope you have a great day!

I do think about that. Quite a lot, actually.

The Crains took on lives of their own for me. I'd never written long form before, so it was the first time I lived with the same characters for that long, and for such extended arcs. Here's where I think they are, a few years later:

Shirley: I think that Shirley and her husband overcame her disclosure of infidelity. She'd been closed off for so long, after the series ended I think she found some peace in her life and opened herself up to her marriage. I think she also began to find kindness again. They ran the funeral home together, but Shirley found purpose in helping people handle grief and loss with empathy and kindness. Her oldest would be just about ready to start college now, and I think that would have her looking back and realizing that she always remembered her childhood as seemingly endless... but now she sees just how fast it truly goes by.

Luke: Luke stayed sober. He's six years into it now, and it's gone so well that he's also become a sponsor. That doesn't mean he's immune to the struggle, far from it. He still walks up to that edge sometimes. Oddly, it's in those moments that the "Twin Thing" kicks in... and he feels an inexplicable and complete sense of love. He knows that's Nell's, and that always pulls him back from the brink. He never did find Joey, or find out what happened to her. And sometimes he still wakes up with nightmares that he's on the floor of the Red Room, or that Joey visits him with her runny-egg eyes. But no matter how hard it gets, he feels what Nell feels for him... and that always pulls him through.

Theo: Theo and Trish got married, and moved far away from New England. They currently live in Portland. She still works with children, but enjoys a much smaller patient pool. She specializes in the kids who are hardest to reach, and she's sought after for her unique and uncanny ability to connect with them. She doesn't wear gloves anymore, but she still avoids the very crowded places. She and Trish take long hikes, grow their own pot, and travel frequently and spontaneously. They're considering a surrogate... and if it's a girl, they're going to name her Eleanor.

Steven: Steve and Leigh have two kids, and are thinking they might stop there. He never wrote about what happened at Hill House, but he still writes. Science fiction. Leigh recommended the genre as a way for him to focus on the future, not the past. He likes it a lot. It's pulpy, but it's earnest. He maintains Hill House, as it is his responsibility, but he doesn't enter the property beyond the gates. He has a rotating collection of people service the property itself, always during the day, and only for a few hours at a time.

Hill House stands quietly and silently in the hills. There is something different about it. Still the same energy, but without the malice. Steve assumes this is because of Hugh, Nellie and Olivia, who maybe curb the most malicious energies of the house from within. While shadows still walk in the windows at night, there are no living souls there to see them. Mostly, Steven imagines the spirits inside spend most of their days sleeping. And if they cannot sleep, he imagines Mrs. Dudley singing softly to them on the wind.

There is grief, for all of them. There are nightmares. Horrible dreams of moldy rooms and phantom hands. They meet twice a year, usually without spouses, to catch up and raise a glass to Nell, and their parents. There is a lot of healing still to do, a lot of therapy, a lot of introspection. But there is peace, too. There is love. There is forgiveness.

[prettyoatmeal]

Hey there! I'm new to your work, but I love reading through it so much. I don't know if it's already been done, but could you do a part two of the pegging request with a few of the others (ex: König, Keegan, Roach, Alejandro, etc.)? I notice you do a lot of 141, so I didn't know if you wrote others. Just thought I'd ask. ^^

CoD Charatcers and How They'd React to Reader Asking to Peg Them (König, Keegan, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Valeria)

Warning!! nsfw, mdni, pegging, afab reader in mind using a strap, heavy dom/sub tropes, slight exhibitionism. A/N: Honestly, I'm surprised I didn't write one for König, but his time is now.. then plus some. Hi guys!! Its nice to see you again after a month (????)!!!

Part 2 to this.

Masterlist here!

***************

König I think would just be super confused at first. Not because he's against it, but because he's never thought about it before and is genuinely curious why and you'd find pleasure in that. He's supposed to be doing the fucking..? Why are you...? ...?!?!?!? And he's just scratching his head. But nevertheless, he agrees because he thinks he'd enjoy it though he can't help but be a little embarrassed because he's getting folded in half by his smaller partner.

Unlike Gaz or Soap, you'd need to be very gentle with him. He's a little bit tense when starting out. The lube is cold, the feeling of your fingers in him is unfamiliar, he wasn't used to bottoming like this. But he trusts you, so he isn't against spreading his legs for you.

Very quickly becomes very whiney once you start hitting against that perfect spot inside him. You feel him jolting a little, letting out a gasp and you know you got it.

His thighs squeeze around your sides, calves resting along your hips as you thrust into him with your bright pink strap. You thought it would've been awkward, not expecting the size difference and power difference to combine well, but it did. He keeps you close, his lips on yours at all times until he eventually buries his face into you neck only to moan and whine and cry into your skin.

All in all, it's sweet. He was definitely taken aback with just how much he enjoyed it, craving more and more from you.

"Schatz, p-please. Need more."

So you do the ol' reliable, placing a pillow under his hips, angling your hips just right. And it begins to drive him crazy. His pretty eyes roll back, his lips parted as he moans out your name over and over and over again like a mantra. His cock leaking like a faucet, his tip an angry red and begging for attention, a shiny layer of sweat covering both of you as your hips slap against his ass over and over again.

And it isn't long until he cums untouched, his back arching into the bed as he pulls you into a kiss and moans into your mouth.

**

Keegan is at I've seen characterised as a freak fr so I feel like he'd be similar to Gaz. If anything, he'd want you to fuck his brains out spontaneously.

He's very much the type to purposefully rile you up just so you'd end up pushing him up against the wall, or even tugging him by his collar to the nearest unisex bathroom. He can't help it! He's a massive slut for his lover. Therefore it's always a good idea to keep a strap on you where ever you go with him.

If you don't have any lube around, he's very adamant of you shoving your fingers into his mouth to slick them up. Maybe he'll even bite them a little just so you deliver a slap on his cheeks.

There's really no telling when he wants to stop pushing you. He'll actively fuck himself back on your fingers when they're inside him, going against anything you're telling him just so you be rougher with him. All in all, his main goal is for you to fuck him like you hate him.

With barely any prep, he lets out long whine at the first thrust inside him, wanting nothing more than to be used by you. One hand on his cheek pressing him into the wall, the other gripping at his hip as he arches his back into you.

"G-God, fuck. Harder, please!"

He's gets so vocal, barely able to keep his moans back. Lets out the sluttiest moans as he finally reaches down to quickly jerk himself off, spilling his load over the wall.

Definitely asks you to be rougher next time. He wants you to put him in a chokehold, wrap your hand around his throat and restrict airflow, bend him over and press his face into the bed, make him beg for mercy. Certified freak 7 days a week!!! Let's just hope you're ready to do all the chores around the place for the next couple of days because there's no way he'll be getting up without a stabbing pain in his ass.

**

Roach is really just a blank canvas character, someone that was created for people to insert themselves into his shoes. So with that being said, I'd think he's into it. Nuff said.

You wouldn't need to do all too much to get him to submit. If he's a blank canvas, then I'll make him into a masterpiece. First time with him would be the first time he's getting pegged, period. Unlike König who's a little tense, Keegan or Gaz who are a little too into it, Roach is a neutral.

It's easy to bend him over, press your hands down on him to keep his back arched like a cat, knead his plump ass a little bit. It's so cute that he'll take whatever you give him. Whether you're rough with him making him whine and cry, slapping his ass and spitting on him as you give him no prep, or coaxing sweet moans from him and praising him as you slowly push your slick fingers into his tight hole.

He starts getting so desperate, wanting nothing more than to beg for you to finally fill him as you press the tip of your strap. He wants to push himself back against it, his cock rock solid, dripping with his pre just at the thought of it. But he's too much of a good boy to do so.

So when you finally fill him with a quick thrust, it makes him go dizzy.

He's a real sight for sore eyes; ass in the air, your hands holding him arched and in place, his eyes fluttering closed as he buries his face into the bedsheets below him, the prettiest moans escaping his lips. Soft and breathy, his voice breaking every time you slam against his prostate. He's not as vocal, but there's no denying the sweet noises that are forced from his throat with every thrust.

He's such a sweet boy, completely melting into the bed as you lean down, a wide smile on his lips as you press kisses against the back of his neck.

"Please, please, please, please, please!"

He'd beg as you finally reach down to give his throbbing dick attention. He's definitely saying thank you after he makes a mess of the bedsheets.

**

Alejandro is another one where I don't see him enjoying it all too much. He prefers to do the actual fucking rather than getting fucked. He'll fuck you like it's his last day on earth, giving you the most mind shattering orgasms known to man. He's definitely a BDSM guy for sure, a rope bunny while at it. But when the tables turn, he's unsure about it. He really doesn't believe it's something he would enjoy.

Alejandro is proud of his masculinity, maybe he has too much pride, but being in a place of submission like that is embarrassing to him.

He'd feel awkward being in a place without control over himself which is why I feel the most he'll allow you to do is use your fingers.

Lubing your fingers up, he'll allow you to bend him over once, just once, and only to try it out. Safe word in mind, he caves and lets you bend him over the counter.

"No funny business." Out of everyone on the list, Alejandro is definitely the most hesitant.

Tensing up as you push a finger in, he almost backs out. But knowing how adamant you were about him trying out something new, he makes up his mind and lets you do your thing because he's thinking that just maybe he'll enjoy it.

Like every instance, you curl your fingers to press against his spongey prostate and he jolts in surprise. Hearing a barely audible, low 'fuck' coming from his mouth, you curl your fingers again only to be met with a whiney moan.

"Is that a good fuck or a bad fuck?"

"Good... good fuck, god, please keep going."

Jackpot.

It isn't long until he's jerking himself off, pushing himself back onto your fingers. He doesn't want the feeling to end, though he regains some of his dignity during his post-nut clarity.

"Maybe we can do that more often.. if you want to.."

**

Rudy is a tricky one for me. I'm not that much of a Rudy stan to have an opinion on him + pegging. But I've seen him characterised as a sweeter and more reserved lover. I feel he'd be more like Ghost. He'll take your fingers, maybe a vibrator, but he definitely isn't ready for your strap right off the bat.

He'll ask you to be gentle, face flushed and looking away as you slowly push a finger in him. Curling your fingers in just the right spot would make him let out an embarrassingly loud moan, looking away, his face flushed. Taking advantage of this, his eyes roll back as you abuse the hell out of his poor sweet spot. The feeling is new and strange but oh god, it feels so good. It's immediately too much for him, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he cums so quickly just from your fingers alone.

Switching over to a vibe would elicit the most humiliating noises from him. It's so cute because he'll beg and beg for you to go easy on him, his poor tip flushed and red as you overstimulate him. Torturing him as you press the vibrator against that perfect spot inside him, coaxing him to another shameful orgasm, precum running down the underside of his shaft as he thrusts his hips into the air, it drives him completely mental.

"P-Please! It's too m-much!"

"I'm not hearing red." and he gets so flustered, he's burying his face in his hands.

But red never leaves his mouth, this thighs clamping around your hand as he spills a second, third, maybe fourth load all over his tummy, but that's only if you haven't drained him for all he's got. He might just let you peg him next time.

**

Valeria is all for it. A girl has needs, sometimes a girl just needs to be filled with a strap, and she is A-okay with that. Val knows what she wants and she knows she's going to get it.

Power play is a massive thing with her. So even if you're the one gripping the back of her knees and slamming into her, he won't hesitate to remind you she's in charge.

She'll allow you to lay her down, slowly undress her, spread her legs. She'll let you fill her with your strap, make her moan under you as you hit all the right spots inside her. But you're not leaving her without the pure filth that escapes from her mouth between her heavy breaths.

"Always making me feel so good, sweet thing."

"No, you don't get to stop. I don't care if you're getting tired, this is what you wanted."

"Fucking into me like a bitch in heat."

"Pussy drunk slut for me."

"F-Fuck.. mmh, d-don't stop."

She tends to get a dirty mouth when she's close, almost begging you to rub her clit for her until she gives in an does it herself. You can't blame her, you just didn't respond fast enough!

But it's not enough for her until her legs wrap around your hips, forcing you as deep as possible as she squeezes around the strap and cums around it with a long moan.

After that, she gives you no time to react. You're getting pushed back onto the bed while she returns the favour until you're begging her to stop from sensitivity. But that's okay, because that's what she likes.

***************

After finishing this, I've realised I've put a lot more effort into this one than the 141 one.. whoopsies 😭

[justarandombrit]

Okay, so in case anyone couldn't make it to the livestream (and just because I wanted to), I wrote down some notes while watching it, so if anyone wants to read them, they're below the cut. (Also sorry ANI fans, my dad came in to borrow a pencil while the ANI segment was happening, so I missed a lot of it)

. There was a 4 minute long intro voice over before AVPM

. James watched AVPM

. 600,000 and Lauren plays the green screen piano

. 700,000 and Lauren does an architectural digest on the green screen house

. Jon really loves Ready To Go

. Darren keeps letting Joey know he sounds like shit on old recordings

. Pinball Pete’s burnt down 🙏🙏

. MAMD was the first student produced album to make the charts

. A Very Potter Sequel’s name came before A Very Potter Musical

. They accidentally wrote Harry Potter and the Cursed Child

. James gave Julia Albain leg splints

. During Starship the entire cast was breathing fibreglass

. Starship was called “knowingly amateurish”

. Darren was supposed to write 15 songs for Starship, but he got cast on GLEE

. Darren flew in to join a rehearsal as a surprise, ran in singing Beauty and everyone was so pissed

. Everyone still loves Kick It Up A Notch

. Nick: “Which was Holy Musical B@man-

Lauren: “Fuck yeah”

. They made up Sweet Tooth, and then found out he was an actual Batman villain

. Matt came up with “Calendar Man, your days are numbered” in his dream, and it was so good it forced him awake to instantly call Nick

. Everyone thought the flying machine joke was the best AVPM joke

. Goin' Back To Hogwarts Reprise made everyone cry

. AVPSY was five hours long

. Curt saw AVPSY

. Darren arrived 2 hours before the show and didn't get a chance to read through a lot of the script

. Darren came up with “I hope you find that swimming pool”

. Joey ate one banana on the day of AVPSY and during Sidekick went “I'm losing my vision”

. They had to pay the hotel union $11,000 to use THEIR OWN microphones, and Darren's STILL BROKE

. Jeff accidentally washed out his Aladdin hair dye

. A.J. Holmes had the same agent as Jafar's original VA, and they got him to do the intro and say “pee” and “poop” in Jafar's voice

. ANI was, as we know, expected to be a hit, and, as we know, it was not

. TTO was, as we know, expected to fail, and, as we know, did not

. TTO had a batshit cast party

. Pierce used to ask Matt insanely complicated questions before bed, e.g, “How did WWII happen?”

. Firebringer was a really old concept

. Literally no one questioned why the “I don't really wanna do the work today” clip had loads of people dressed as cavewomen + cavemen

. Firebringer was the first show Jon saw live

. They made up all the Hatchetfield shows at the same time

. Nick kept making sure Paul was having fun

. The song from the Pirate Show, “Born To Be Wretched goes so fucking hard. Like if a sea shanty was a musical theatre song essentially

. Mariah: “Rich gays, please give”

. Lauren choreographed Show Stoppin' Number

. People actually gave Lauren their phones when she asked in Inevitable, and they would take them backstage and take selfies before giving them back. One time it was locked and she shouted “WHAT'S THE PASSCODE?!?!?”

. Joey: “I'm in the middle of Wiggle”

. Everyone was ill during Black Friday

. Bryce saw Black Friday

. BRYCE GOT THE APPLE

. Nick told her “Interesting things happen here” when showing her to the seat

. Ahhh when Jeff played Tom…

. Angela was in Jaime’s improv class

. Angela is no longer on vocal rest

. Angela had to kill Sherman with a finger gun one night

. Will was 100% ready for NPMD

. Will was at a party they went to during A Very Starkid Reunion

. HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR STARKID

. Rip Kim

. The Docks of Troutspear is sung by Matt’s favourite character (it also slaps)

. The Pit Stop in Hatchetfield livestream is going to be a tag team deathmatch

. I love Starkid so much

[avenging-fandoms]

kook princess!yn inviting jj to midsummers as her date 🤭😏 and kie sees and she's all 🥹 bc she knows how much jj likes you and you're giving him a chance

**long post, i got carried away LMAOO **i just love jj in love with a kook so i wrote A LOT *smut! (f!receiving)

*events are different from what happened at Midsummers in the show

-

"I don't know, Kie. He's going to say no" Your knee was leaned up against the door, arm resting on the open window as Kiara drove.

"Yn, I promise you with every cell in my body, JJ is not going to say no to you. You don't hear him when it's just me and him" She smirks and you look at her over your sunglasses. "He goes on and on about how beautiful and smart you are. He stalks your Instagram all the time"

"Why to only you?" You ask and she hits the brakes at a red light. She looks at you and you nod. "Kook fucking princess" You mumble, rolling your eyes. "You know, I didn't start that. Rafe Cameron started it because he thinks we're going to get married, just because our dads are friends!"

"Yeah, Rafe is pretty fucking scary" Kiara spoke through her teeth and pulled into JJ's place. You unclick your seatbelt and Kiara grabs your arm. "Listen, you're one of my best friends, since diapers, so I'll be honest with you" you look at her and her eyes adjust. "I know you're finally giving JJ a chance, but if you hurt him, I will end you"

You smile, saluting Kiara. "Sir yes sir" You both laugh and you get out. You follow Kiara to the door and she knocked. JJ opened the door without a shirt and a beer bottle in hand, sunglasses on the tip of his nose and his eyes immediately catch yours. "Hi JJ"

He couldn't say anything, he just smiled. Kiara smacked his forehead as she walked in, and he moved so you could get in. You thank him and look around, a soft smile on your face. "I uh.. I'm sorry for the mess. This isn't how-"

"JJ," you touch his shoulder and he looks at you. "Relax. I don't care about that. I'm not that type of person to judge, despite what others might think" You shove your hands in your back pockets, eyes falling down his chest then quickly back to his eyes.

JJ quickly put on his tank top, his chest and stomach still very visible and you couldn't help but stare. "Do you want anything to drink?" your eyes fall on what was in his hand. "They're outside. Kie, you want one?" JJ opened the door for you and you looked at her.

"No, I'm gonna use the bathroom. I'll be right there" JJ nods and turns away from her, and she winks and gives you a thumbs up before you and JJ head to his backyard.

"It's nice back here, JJ" you compliment and he thanks you, handing you a beer. You thank him and try to twist it off and he hums as he takes a sip of his.

"Here, let me open it" JJ used his ring to pop the bottle open, and you smile to yourself. He hands it to you and you inhale. "What?"

"That was just the hottest thing I've ever see" your eyes widen at the word vomit, taking a big sip of your drink. You gasp for air and JJ chuckles, cheeks beet red.

"Wanna go to the dock?" JJ nods towards the water and you nod, following closely next to him. "Hottest thing you've ever seen, huh?"

"Oh please, your cheeks were hotter"

"That was a good one, princess" You roll your eyes and sit at the edge of the dock, taking your sandals off. JJ did the same, his leg pressed against yours as you both drink. "Why did you come here?" JJ asked and you raise your eyebrows, setting your beer next to you while you leaned on your hands.

"Wow, alright"

"No, no, no. I didn't mean it like that. It's just.. you haven't really chosen to hang with us.. or me before" You look at JJ, squinting from the sun. You suck up your pride and sit up straight, looking at JJ.

"Well.. you know about Midsummers, right?" JJ nods, eyes watching you contently. You take a sip of your beer, a droplet of condensation falling on your chest and JJ couldn't help but watch it fall.

"Uh, yeah. Midsummers. I..I think I'm working it"

"Well.." you crossed your leg over your knee, your foot hitting his shin, his chest moving quicker. "Why don't you not work that night, and come with me. As my.. date"

"Yes, absolutely. That..that sounds amazing. I'll quit so I don't work that night" JJ rambled and you laughed, placing a hand on his thigh. His mouth fell into a straight line.

"You're not going to quit your job, JMay"

"JMay?"

"Yeah, that's my nickname for you"

"JMay. Out of anything in the world"

"Out of JJ?! Your name is a nickname!" you both laugh and you kept your eyes on him a little longer. "Kiara told me about your crush on me" his head snapped towards you and you smile. "She only told me because I told her I thought you were cute and to give you my number"

"Hmm.. did she tell you about Instagram?" You nod and he nods along with you, sucking his teeth. "So you wanted me first, princess?"

"God, I hate that nickname. Please don't use it again"

It's like you showed JJ all your buttons and said, 'push them.'

"So sorry. Anyway, what made you decide to take me to Midsummers? Needed a prince.." he leaned into you and you shook your head. "'Cause you're a princess"

You grab his shoulders and push him into the water. You laugh as he pops back up, leaning down. “I could’ve had Rafe Cameron take me”

“Yeah like you’d go for that psycho” JJ pulled himself up onto the dock, grabbing onto your belt loops and pulling you in with him. He still held onto you as he spun you in the water.

"Jokes on you," You pull your shirt off and toss it at his face, a bathing suit underneath your clothes. "I came prepared" you pushed his hands away and took off your shorts, throwing them on the dock. JJ did the same, throwing your shirt and his on the dock.

You and JJ hung out in the water for a little bit, splashing, dunking each other, everything. You both hop back up on the dock and you lay on your back, closing your eyes and letting the sun dry you.

JJ laid next to you, his pinky inches from yours. "You never answered my question from before"

"What was it again? I was too busy pushing you in the water"

"Why me?" You blocked the sun with your hands, looking at JJ. He looked back at you, searching for an answer in your eyes.

"You're.. like a breath of fresh air" You answer honestly, and he smiles softly. "I know that sounds crazy 'cause I've only been around you a few times. Very short, due to being berated by your friends, but you're just so.. I don't know"

"Well, I'll take that as a compliment. I just hope it blows over well with the other Kooks"

"Fuck the other Kooks, you only have to worry about impressing me" you wink at him. "I have to use the bathroom, and figure out where the hell Kiara is"

JJ nodded and closed his eyes, relaxing in the sun again. You open the screen door, the floor creaking underneath your feet. "Kie?" You looked around the kitchen and living room, repeatedly calling her name. You looked in the front of his house, and her car was gone.

'Be back at 5 :)'

A note taped to the doorway. You roll your eyes and smile, knowing you should've guessed she would have done this. You walk down the hallway of JJ's and spy his room, opening it and stepping inside.

You look around his room. Bracelets, shoes, clothes everywhere. Beer cans, wrappers. Typical teen boy room. You find a shirt in his drawer and put it over your body, finding his sunglasses and putting those on.

You head back outside with two more beers, holding the can over JJ's face and letting the condensation fall on his face. "Hey!"

"Kiara left, she'll be back at 5. Probably so we can get ready for Midsummers" You hand him the beer and he watches you in awe as you sit next to him.

"Is.. uh.. that my shirt?"

"Yeah. Hope you don't mind I borrowed the sunnies too" You smile and he shakes his head, sipping his beer.

"It's just.. that is the hottest thing I've ever seen" He teases and you laugh.

"Touché, Maybank"

-

You nearly beat Kiara up as she came back to pick you up. "I see you're wearing his shirt"

"We didn't do anything. We just sat in his backyard after taking an impromptu swim and talked. Got to really know each other" You leaned your elbow on the window and tried to hide your smile behind your hand.

"You bitch, you're blushing!" She slaps your arm and you laugh. She pulls into your driveway and you grab your bag. “You’re welcome!” She shouts out the window and you flip her off.

“Hey, where have you been? Whose shirt is that?” Topper asked and you rolled your eyes.

“None of your business, Topper. Go get ready for your grand entrance with Sarah Cameron” You reply sarcastically, heading up the stairs.

You hated your brother. You hated that he was your mother’s bitch and you hated that she bought into it. She wasn’t too keen on you, because you didn’t obey her every command.

You head upstairs and get in the shower, smiling at the day you had with JJ. You get out and head into your room, doing your hair and makeup before putting on your dress. You do a twirl in the mirror and smile, putting on the flower crown your mother insisted your wear.

You put on your shoes and waited for Kiara's text. You heard footsteps walking past your door, praying no one came in. Kiara texted she arrived and you turn on your music softly, leaving out your patio slowly.

You heard the car door as you climbed down the ladder, JJ catching your waist as you slipped off the last step. You step away from him and swipe your hands down your dress, smoothing it out and you look at JJ.

“Looking good, JMay” you wink and he smiles, fixing your hair that was stuck in your crown. His thumb rubbed over your cheek, nodding.

"Looking beautiful, princess" you roll your eyes and JJ holds his hand out towards the car and follows you, opening the passenger door open for you.

You thank him with a smile and he closes the door for you. Kiara gives him a sly high five as she gets in the car, JJ behind you. She sped off and you saw Topper in the rearview mirror, draping your hand out the window and giving him the finger.

-

Kiara turned her car off and you unbuckle your seatbelt, JJ rushing out of the car and opening your door. You take his arm as he closes the door, holding his bicep and you two walked into the party.

Eyes were on you. Not only because you looked amazing, but because you were holding onto a Pogue. You felt JJ's arm start to tremble and you place a hand on his chest, his eyes meeting yours.

"No one but me, JJ" you say softly and he nods. You place your hand on top of the one around his bicep, taking him to the bar area. "Hey, Rachel! How are you?" you wave to your friend and she waves back, smile dropping a bit when she saw JJ. You grab a champagne glass and hand it to JJ and one for yourself.

"Can we go find somewhere quiet to sit?" He asks in your ear, and you nod.

"Of course, JJ. Here, I know a spot" You took his hand and trailed him to your spot you always snuck away to during parties. You two sat on the log and you took off your shoes, pulling up your dress and resting your feet on the sand. "Are you alright?"

"Just.. not the biggest fans of Kooks" He sighed and downed his champagne, putting the glass in the grass behind him under the little rock cave. You look at the water, shaking your head.

"I knew it was a bad idea bringing you. The last thing I wanted to do was make you uncomfortable and that's exactly what I did. I'm sorry, JJ"

"No, Yn, I'm happy I came with you" JJ moved closer to you and placed a hand on your leg. "It's just we're very different"

"Only where we come from, JJ" You whisper, eyes on his lips. "I'm glad to be learning more about you"

"Same.. Yn.." His breathing got choppy. His fingers tighten on your thigh. He was getting closer. He was getting nervous.

"The cool, punk Pogue JJ Maybank.." your fingers trail over his shoulder, down his chest. "All nervous to kiss a Kook"

JJ smiled and held your face, kissing you slowly. Your fingers grab his shirt, pulling him in closer and his hand pushed up your dress, and you sat on his thigh. Your hand combed through his hair, his hand rubbing your back.

You pull away, fingers touching his chin as he looked at you with heavy eyes. "Why stop, princess?"

"Because I have something that will calm you down" You bend over and grab your clutch, JJ rubbing your back. You sat back up and opened it, his cheek on your shoulder. You pulled out 3 joints in a sandwich baggie and JJ looked like a kid in a candy store.

You stood up and went under the rock cave, laying in the grass as you lit a joint in your mouth. JJ smiled in victory, laying down next to you, you take a big hit and hold it in, holding the joint to JJ's mouth and exhaling as he inhaled.

You two shared 2 each, and you both weren't nervous anymore. You were giggling, sharing stories, getting to know each other better. "Okay, personal question" JJ coughed and you look at him. "Out of the guys you hooked up with, who was the worst at giving you head?"

"Wow, Maybank" you laugh and lay back on your elbows, thinking. "I don't think I've had a guy do that. They usually just want head or to fuck, but they never pleasured me. Why didn't I say anything?"

"So you never experienced it because they were too stupid to go down on a beautiful girl like you? What morons" He laughs and you inhale sharply, suddenly getting a boost of confidence.

"Do you know how to do it?" You ask and he looks at you with soft eyes.

"I do. Why do you wanna know?" His body got closer to yours, hand rubbing over your chest and holding your neck. "Do you want me to show you?"

"Y-yes JJ"

"Look at that, the stuck-up, princess Kook. All nervous, just for me" He taunted you and you groan, kissing him roughly and grabbing his hand. You kissed him sloppily as his hand touched your inner thigh, pushing his palm into your thigh and you flop on your back.

"J.." You mumble against his lips and he smiles, his hand reaching your pussy. His finger rubbed up and down your folds outside of your underwear, and you stifle a moan.

"Let me hear you, princess" he kissed your neck and pushed his fingers into your underwear, sliding his middle finger and ring finger into you.

"Fuck, JJ" You moan and grip his hair as he kissed your chest. He moved in between your legs, disappearing underneath your dress. You ripped grass up in your hands and your back arched as he spread your legs and licked a bold stripe up.

JJ knew what he was doing. Every nerve, every pace. He knew exactly what to do.

His tongue worked on your clit while he pumped his fingers into you. Your body twisted and you sat up on your elbows again, pulling your dress up and you bite your lip as your eyes meet his.

"You taste so delicious" JJ breathed and kissed you, fingers still fucking you and you hum into his mouth. "Are you gonna cum for me, princess?"

"Yes, JJ, fuck" your arm wraps around his neck and bury his face in your chest, scratching his back as you came on his fingers. You let out a loud moan and JJ's hand covered your mouth, looking at you as he rode out your orgasm.

JJ pulled away and looked at you as he licked his fingers clean, a satisfied smile on your face. "God, JJ. I am so happy I asked you to come here with me"

"I'm glad you asked me too" He kissed you again and helped you up. You wiped him off and then he did you. He helped adjust your hair and crown, and you his hair.

You both head back to the party, your shoes clicking softly on the stone path. Your arms were wrapped around his waist, his arm draped over your back as you both walked back into the party.

Kiara caught you two and you gave her a wink, Kiara's eyes turning into hearts as she watched you two walk onto the dance floor. You connect your fingers behind his neck, his hands together behind your back as you both swayed to the music.

You rest your head on his chest, closing your eyes. This is when you felt the most comfortable, in JJ's arms. He was so nice to be around, he never judged you.

You open your eyes as the song ends, finding Kiara and the three of you sat at a table to eat. You pick your eyes up and spot Topper looking directly at you.

"Oh, Jesus Christ" you roll your eyes and Topper comes over to you with Sarah trailing behind. "What do you want, dickhead?"

"Oh no, I didn't come over here for you. I came over here, for JJ" JJ's body visibly straightens, his eyes narrowing.

"What can I do for you, Top?"

"I'd like for you to leave my sister alone. She doesn't need to be dragged down to your level"

JJ stood up, his chair screeching across the floor. "Wow, Topper. For once, you care about your sister? How kind of you. But I promise, I'm taking better care of her than you ever could"

"Yeah?" Topper pushed JJ and you stood up, shoving Topper back.

"The fuck is your problem? You're not even my real brother, you never acted like it" You grit your teeth and Topper laughed, your eyes move to Sarah. "Control your mutt, Cameron"

Sarah looked you up and down, walking away with Topper. You look at JJ and hold his face, smiling. "Thanks for not fighting him. Here, at least"

"Anything for you, princess" He smiles and kisses you softly, the both of you sitting back down and digging into your meals. You ended the night with the 3 of you crashing at JJ's house, Pope also meeting up with you guys after he was done helping his dad.

You enjoyed being around the Pogues much more than your own family, and you hoped you stuck with them for a while.

[thurio-edau]

SBG GANG MENTAL ANALYSIS

yup, him for part two. funny thing despite Aiden being my favourite character I'm most excited for the other three posts I'll make, especially the last one. there's a lot to unpack here so

also im writing this with a migraine pls read it-

Part 2: Aiden Clark

ah, yes. the obviously-mentally-ill from the start fan favourite Aiden Clark. let's go.

first, I want to start with something I find really important about his character, what makes him heavily mischaracterized in the fandom. the 'psychopath' cliche.

the terms 'psychopath', 'insane' and 'unstable' are often confused with each other due to media stereotypes, such as Aiden here. one, he is not a psychopath. psychopath literally means a self-centered person who lacks sympathy, affection and care; making them far from most other characters in their franchise. their lack of sympathy/empathy often makes them criminalized, here

disturbing content warning, for an example of a psychopath.

let's take Gressil from Homesick for example since a lot of SBG readers also read Homesick. so, here, Gressil is a perfect example of an actual psychopath. his lack of empathy makes him torment others, he's very self-centered. and when asked why he's doing this? he says he was bored. let's look at Aiden here. what does Aiden do when bored? probably dumb ideas or annoy Tyler. not torturing people for fun. Aiden is just a boy who likes thrills, but he has a sense of empathy, care and justice.

you wanna see a psychopathic Aiden?? the canvas is it

(our local Logan hater is publishing the canvas eps go checc beachy out)

but that's him, not our Aiden. canvas does not equal originals y'all

alright, now since we got that cleared out!! firstly, ADHD.

I think everyone in the fandom is already aware that Aiden is ADHD but I'm still going to talk about it just like Ashlyn's autism. Red has also said that she wrote Aiden with ADHD in mind but hadn't canonically confirmed anyone as neurodivergent. let's start with the main symptoms of ADHD, also known as Attention Decifit and Hyperactivity Disorder.

I know about 5 different ADHD people myself and did some research, it probably won't be extremely accurate since I'm not ADHD myself, but I'll try to do whatever I can. first with the AD part, Attention Decifit.

now as seen, he doesn't exactly have any problems with theorizing itself. but the problem is that his attention just goes away easily.

i mean cmon bro was making memes on the job

he tries to do work, but can't. he has a low attention span which makes him not able to concentrate. he can't keep it up for long, he'll get distracted or bored too easily about things that doesn't interest in specially.

it's just distracting. what his attention is on constantly changes, there's more to that after the ADHD part but we're here for now.

the hyperactivity... it's a lot more apparent. but I should explain the insane-unstable thing before that.

insane means that someone's mental health is not in an okay situation, where it prevents the person from thinking normally, acting rationally, very often found together with delusions. the person is seriously mentally ill where it might count as a disability.

unstable, however, where someone is prone to psychiatric problems, has moodswings etc. they're not exactly the most sane person, but they aren't insane either. Aiden here, obviously falls on the unstable side. maybe just a little bit insane if you squint. this will be brought up later too, but it mixed well with his hyperactivity too.

and as we all know, our boy isn't exactly the most stable person. (sorry for the collages, but since there is a tumblr picture limit i have to keep on collaging. yes i learnt from the last time) his hyperactivity mixes with his unstable mindset which makes him incresingly vulnerable to danger- which he likes. from when the first shift happened, he's been really careless about stuff but it's been all about his love for thrill.

and it irritates Tyler, too.

the main subplot about his character is that he's a person of excitement. guess what? ADHD people like the excitement, they like new things, they like the adrenaline and thrill. now, Aiden's main characteristic of being unstable mixed with ADHD makes him an even more reckless person. another thing mixing with the hyperactivity, is boundaries.

this part will mostly be about Ashlyn since the boundary issue only happens with her.

I talked about this on Ashlyn's side on my Ashlyn analysis, now it's time for Aiden's side.

he's really annoying to her at first. Ashlyn is someone with lots of boundaries, like high walls. and who tries to climb them with his dumbass? Aiden of course.

she kept rejecting his efforts to befriend her for some time, until the night they stole the jeep. then she managed to actually bring the walls down, and accept them all into her life. but damn was she blunt.

felt that honestly

and Aiden understands her that night, too.

Ashlyn was hesistant to hug him, yes, he was aware. but she still did which made him realize she was also trying. i have to tell you, people with ADHD and people with autism either have trouble getting along, or go perfectly well. my ADHD sibling for example, I have to push them away for a lot and tell them to lower their voice. but once they remember my boundaries it actually becomes a normal, even pleasant hangout. which, Aiden realizes and tries to get along with. he tries.

seeing his efforts on her boundaries makes something click in her mind. and she starts to be a lot nicer when they hang out in the arcade.

Aiden eventually learns and remembers what she's like and what she loves to do. he already tried to watch her ballet sessions once -got slammed-, he's been to her room where he remembered the mat from and her fighting makes it obvious. I'm sure he knew he'd get cooked by betting that. but he still did,

because he knew it'd interest her. which he succeeded, he saw her smile again. the arcade day went great until Barron and his gang pulled up, but if we ignore that part it all went well. Aiden started to understand and respect her boundaries.

anyways then Tyler fucking dies

he knows that Ashlyn feels guilty. Aiden wants to comfort her through it, but also do it correctly. without going over any boundaries. which makes him really,

really,

really surprised when she responds.

also including this pannel cause its hilarious

here we see that he's still trying. hell, I'm sure he spent minutes thinking if he should come close physically to help her. that's probably why he just nudged her softly before anything else. he's not used to it, he has to conciously make an effort to not cross said boundaries. keeping his voice lower, try to not be so reckless, not doing anything physically close unless she reciprocates. wow how i wish another someone i knew irl tried that hard instead of blaming it on me cOUGH COUGH COUGH

also other small things to include

he's yapping a lot

he has a comically large amount of puzzles in his backpack for one single trip

and sticks his head into lamps for some reason

but that's just Aiden and his little neurodivergent brain for ya.

now the part I wanted to get to the most.

Borderline Personality Disorder.

first, what is Borderline Personality Disorder?

shortened as BPD, borderline is when someone's mood is inconsistent and swinging. think of it's name; the person's mental state is in the border, in the border line, switching up fastly. the most easily understood and common type is when the person goes from a depression to a happy state. but no matter which state they are in and/or go to, one thing stays the same: it is unstable.

one thing about borderline is that it is frequently mixed with bipolar. however bipolar is a neurodivengercy which means it is what someone is born with and cannot be changed. but borderline is obtained later in life. it usually happens with depression. bipolar is much more random and the episodes last longer in comparison. it may last up to hours, and the person's memory might have trouble remembering their episodes. borderline, on the other hand, is a short-lived mood swing.

now here. here's the catch; people with BPD during mood swings can have reckless behaviour, suicidal thoughts -in his case as far as we know, lowered sense of protecting himself- or a loss of understanding danger. sounds familiar?

borderline's recklessness and dangerousness, sometimes self-destructive acts combines with ADHD's love for thrill and excitement, combined with Aiden's own personality all make up for a great condition of instability.

Aiden's behaviour constantly goes crazy, I think his most frequent mood swing might be his normal self (at least, as normal as he could be) to this more maniac way of acting. I noticed it from his eyes, when he's in a more calm-ish normal state his pupils are a bit more dilated. in the pictures above, you can clearly see that he's still in the episode; filled with the adrenaline, the unstable way of thinking.

but, what causes that? surely a mental illness such as borderline doesn't happen on it's own.

right?

cause it didn't.

it never works that way.

but it can get better.

eventually.

but what happened to him?

personally, as much as a large amounnt of people seems to believe it's something like family abuse I don't think so. maybe neglect, maybe withdrawal, maybe maybe. but we've seen his parents. I don't think they would hurt him like that. I can't put any more pictures, but this is the last part anyway. his parents seem to be kind and gentle, despite that picture in his house. I'm thinking the picture was only for the dramatic effect. his parents said that he used to be really calm and quiet during Lily's birthday, and both Aiden and Ben seem comfortable around them. they were happy taking Ben in too, any kind of abusive parent wouldn't do that at least that's what I believe. also there is that Aiden got serious and concerned when he learnt that their parents were also in the facility, most likely worried for his own as you would have thought.

there was a post that I've been trying to find for like half an hour, I commented on it but I can't find the post now. the person talked about their own theory. if I remember correctly it was that when Aiden was depressive as a child, his parents took him to a thrilling activity like the ones he's been talking about (bungee-jumping, skydiving etc.) and the thrill made him actually get excited. which is why his parents allowed him to go even more reckless, because they are aware of how prone their son could be to the depression.

what happened? let's ignore the parents factor. someone can have a loving family and still be traumatized, someone can be taken care of and still feel abandoned, someone can never have confronted a situation they are terrified of.

one of my theories is that, the loneliness. it must get to a child heavily considering children need to not be left alone, but Aiden was. he didn't have any actual friends since they always moved from one place to another from his parents' business, and they might have not had enough time to make for him (which I believe is bullshitting, every child deserves to be taken some time out for. some people quit their jobs entirely for their child.) and be unaware, and that doesn't change that he was still depressed and alone. his depressive state was seemingly before Ben was taken in. now here one thing with borderline, at least from my experience, is faking actions. smiles, laughs, friendships, conversations... almost as if there's two different lives; one fake, and one real. you keep on switching, you keep on swinging between the sides where you're yourself and where you're just mimicking 'normal human behaviour'.

it starts from faking a happy state during their depression, and by time you're faking it it becomes an automatic adition to your personality. to your mind. once it furthers, it becomes the disorder. Aiden we see is always smiling. it becomes a habit that only breaks sometimes. now, I'm not saying his smile is fake- I think his face is literally just stuck like that. it breaks ever so slightly sometimes. fake it till ya make it yanno? that kind of thing. and when he swings from his calm mood to his borderline-d mood, his pupils get small and his smile gets worse. noticably worse. I'll be rereading the series (AGAIN) and this time look at all the small details since Red loves putting them and I love theorizing so

which, wraps up the Aiden thing! im actually really proud of how i could put my thoughts into text which i never could. i'd love any additions because i love other opinions as well.

and you know what? im glad Ash and Ai are out of the place because the rest are what I'm actually looking forward to >:)

...and i should sleep. really.

(wow sorry yall i finished this hours ago and said 'alright reread to make sure its good before sleep' and fell asleep through it lol sorry for 4 hour delay ig)

(leaving for school rn see yall 8 hours later 🫡)

[actual-changeling]

Welcome back to a meta post that was not supposed to exist, but I fucking love answering questions, so here we are.

i got an ask (the answer contains a tl;dr) about why I think Crowley has unstable relationship patterns, and the following will be a detailed look at why this is the case, how Aziraphale plays into it, and what it ultimately means for the two of them.

This won't be as unhinged as my usual analyses, so consider this a special edition of Alex's unhinged meta corner - now hinged.

As always, please remember that this is my personal interpretation—not a generalization—and that genuine questions are welcome, either here on the post or in my inbox!

Everything I will say is based on research I have done, books & studies, and many, many conversations with my therapist (and at points my psychiatrist too); just so you know I'm not making shit up as I go.

Now, in the context of trauma-related/based disorders, what exactly does it mean to have unstable relationship patterns, and how does it apply to Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship?

Canonically, heaven does not care about what Aziraphale is doing and they are not keeping an eye on him. We know this both from references in the script and their dialogue and what we see throughout the show as a whole. That "fear" of being found out should he openly commit to Crowley is, for the most part, self-fabricated.

Yes, hell would potentially punish him (that potentially is another long post), but that is not something Aziraphale gets to take and use against Crowley, and the fact that does it anyway to 'prove' that he is not behaving incorrectly is a big issue.

What that leaves them with is a very common and well-known relationship pattern that requires a lot of self-awareness, control, and work to break it.

Aziraphale and Crowley get closer, spend more time together, their relationship grows and the intimacy increases, resulting in their behaviour changing to reflect that. They go on more romantic-coded dates (e.g. 1827, whatever the fuck 1941 was), eat together more frequently, drink together and feel comfortable enough to get drunk drunk while in each other's company—which always carries the inherent risk of doing something 'forbidden' while their impulse control is lowered.

I think the second episode of season one is actually a great example for all of this. When they drive to Tadfield, there's a mutually respectful conversation, they tease each other, they bicker like an old married couple, and don't fall into blaming the other for the situation they're in. At the manor, they are openly flirting from the start, laughing about the paintball guns and blowing kisses to miracle away stains, and the wall slam scene honestly speaks for itself.

I wrote a detailed analysis of it right here, which contains the conclusion that the entire interaction was intentional and orchestrated by the two of them.

They are doing great, they're comfortable, intimate—both physically and emotionally—and their sides are already on their asses about the apocalypse, so why not commit to the relationship?

Because Aziraphale gets scared, scared of intimacy, scared of what it would mean for his life, scared of what it would force him to confront (his faith, mostly, which is another gigantic topic), scared of the changes it would bring to their relationship, scared of breaking out of the pattern they have been moving in since the very beginning.

So he pushes, hard. He insults and denies and hurts Crowley to get as far away from all of that as possible. Push & pull, no matter when, no matter why, it's always the same.

At this point you might be thinking Alex, this is all on Aziraphale, how is this also Crowley's unstable relationship pattern? The answer to that question can be roughly summarized in one sentence:

He does not punish or discourage Aziraphale's behaviour.

There are NEVER lasting—if any—negative consequences for Aziraphale when he forces them into the push/pull dynamic, when he insults him, denies their relationship, calls him evil, you name it. No matter what Aziraphale does, Crowley always forgives and forgets and comes back to him, essentially resetting their loop. That way there cannot be any progress because they're not moving a single inch in either direction that isn't carefully organized and controlled by Aziraphale.

Why does Crowley not confront him? Because he is scared too.

Now, THIS is the part where I explain why I said Crowley has unstable relationship patterns. It is important to understand that Aziraphale's kind of instability is only one possible manifestation, and that they are—broadly speaking—on opposite ends of the spectrum, which not only makes them incredibly compatible, but also makes them worse.

Crowley is terrified of losing Aziraphale permanently and being on his own. God rejected him, heaven rejected him, hell rejected him—his life as been one traumatic incident after the other with a strong focus on abandonment and neglect, especially from people he cared about.

He says himself that Aziraphale is his only friend, he doesn't have anyone or anything else. The bookshop is Aziraphale's anchor, but Crowley has nothing except the Bentley and whatever Aziraphale allows him to partake in. Hell can take his job, his flat, punish and torture him as they please, and make his life, well, hell.

With the Bentley only appearing in the early 20th century, for 99% of his life he had nothing except for Aziraphale, his best friend, the person he loves.

So what does he do? He clings, he circles him and tries to push his orbit just a tiny bit closer whenever there's a gap he can use, trying to solidify their relationship. Terrified of being abandoned again, he swallows and ignores everything and anything negative.

The final fifteen are the FIRST TIME that Aziraphale asked him for something and he said no without changing his mind later—and it was literally the worst case scenario, the one boundary he has that he is not willing to cross for him, literally the barest minimum.

Every other time he relented, gave in, apologized for something that wasn't his fault, have Aziraphale everything he wanted from Hamlet over shooting a gun at his face to giving him the Bentley. Crowley's primary objective is to do whatever it takes to avoid being abandoned, so whenever Aziraphale DOES push back and abandons him/says that he will, he panics. He panics even more when there is an outside source threatening Aziraphale's presence in his life.

Look at how frantic he is when he finds Aziraphale after the bandstand, trying to say whatever it takes to get him to come with him. He does the apology dance, gives in when it comes to Gabriel, and never reacts to Aziraphale in a way that would prompt him to re-think the choices he is making, let alone stop doing the push/pull.

His identity revolves around Aziraphale, his only relationship is with Aziraphale, he allows him to shape him to his liking as far as he can take and then some, he needs him to be happy, to enjoy himself, to live a life worth living—and Aziraphale needs him to be and do all of those things so he can keep up his behaviour.

They are dangerously co-dependent and just spiral deeper and deeper until they hit rock bottom and are forced to separate.

Look, I have BPD on top of everything else, I have been in a relationship with this exact pattern in Crowley's role, and it is fucking horrible. Absolutely unbearable. My ex-partner was like Aziraphale, pulling and pushing and pulling and pushing but on a daily basis, every few hours. No amount of talking or begging could get them to not behave in a way that would hurt me, and I was so emotionally tied to them and terrified of being alone that just like Crowley, I relented every. single. time. A year and a half and they never, not ONCE, apologized for anything. Ever. Not for hurting me, not for being an asshole, nothing.

The only way I got out was with a lot of therapy, support, and so much emotional work I was having several panic attacks a day because I was so fucking exhausted. Crowley and Aziraphale separating was the best thing that ever happened to their relationship.

Now, Aziraphale is facing negative consequences for his behaviour and is forced to examine himself and deal with all those fears causing him to behave the way he does. Crowley on the other hand is now forced to learn how to exist without Aziraphale to orbit around—he needs to develop an identity that exists outside of Aziraphale, so he can have boundaries and stick to them.

[lowkeyremi]

His birthday k. bokuto

Remi's note: Happy birthday to my favorite owl, ily (also i wrote the sky-diving thing based on my own experience)

CW: established relationship, fluff, kinda rushed

"WOOHOO!" He screams, and you startle awake.

"W-what? Ko baby what's up?" You ask sleepily. You open your eyes, they're bleary and you're trying to comprehend what's going on right now.

"Honey get up! It's my birthday! Let's go celebrate!!" Bokuto spouts all at once. You'd think after a certain age people wouldn't care too much about their birthdays. Your husband proves you wrong because he is twenty-eight, and still excited like a two year old going to chuck-e-cheese for their birthday.

"Slow your roll, I still need to get up. I also need caffeine." You mumble. Those golden eyes watch as you sit up and blink slowly to adjust to the morning.

"Don't worry, sweetness! I already made you some (coffee or tea)!" He exclaims with a cup in his hand. How did that get there? You could have sworn that wasn't in his hand a few seconds ago.

When he hands you the mug you take a nice long sip with a loud exhale at the end. "Thanks, Ko."

"Mhm, what're you feeling today? I have a couple outfits picked out for ya!" He points to the dress where sure enough, there are three or four outfits laid out.

"Where are we going? You seem to wanna get a move on." The one thing that you never understood was why Bokuto wanted to spoil you on his birthday. He always takes you places and buys you stuff. He says 'seeing you happy makes me happy, and that's all I want for my birthday.'

Every year he tells you not to get him anything besides your love. Which is cheesy. You got him something.

This actually took a long time to plan because you had to think of something he wouldn't expect. Kuroo played a role in your surprise gift.

"Yeah I do. We're driving two hours today. The sooner we get there the better." You look at him in disbelief.

"Kotaro Bokuto." You say sternly.

"I promise this time it's gonna be something I wanna do." That's what he's said in the past and it was never true.

----

He watched you go through you're daily routine, smiling at every little thing. He was over excited about helping you with little things like slipping your shoes on or setting the timer so your makeup could dry.

You guys where ready to go around nine am. Bokuto stopped by his favorite restaurant to get breakfast to go for the ride.

"These burritos never fail!!" He exaggerates with a loud moan as he takes another huge bite.

"You are a piece of work." You sigh with a smile taking a bite out of your own burrito.

Throughout the ride Bokuto plays songs you used to listen to when he first met you. He purposely sung off key just to piss you off make you laugh.

He wanted to play road-trip games but you had to remind him countless times that he was DRIVING so he can't play road-trip games.

------

You really had no clue where he'd brought you. The place looked empty based on the amount of cars present in the parking lot. Before you can even process it, he opens your car door, "Come on honey, don't wanna be late."

Your hands are intertwined and he guides you into a small white building.

"I brought you to an indoor sky-diving place because I'm too scared to actually sky-dive, yet." He explains, a grin crosses your face when he mentions real sky-diving.

"Let's do it then!" You say excitedly.

Bokuto checks you two in for your reservation. The instructor takes you two back to a little room to teach you the basics of indoor sky-diving. She says it's similar to outdoor sky-diving. She shows you the three hand signals you'll need to know so the operate can know how you're feeling.

Once you two have grasped the concept so she brings you to the sky-diving area. Bokuto goes first, he looks so cute and funny swinging his legs all around in the glass cylinder trying to remember what the woman had taught him.

"Baby look! I'm flying!" He yells trying to flap like a bird, which messes up his flow and causes him to bump into the glass wall. Your giggle goes unnoticed as he exists the glass when the air stops flowing.

"Mrs. Bokuto, you're up!" The operator yells. After checking your helmet once more you're stepping into the cylinder.

Over all the experience was quite fun and you got some good pictures of your husband being silly.

-----

When you arrived home, you put your hand over Bokuto's eyes in order to keep him from looking.

You motion to Kuroo who is already in you're house looking at you waiting for the signal.

"Okay Ko, open them up!" He opens his eyes and you remove your hand. Standing round your kitchen table is Tsukki, Kuroo, Akaashi, Kenma, Atsumu, Hinata, and surprisingly Sakusa.

"Happy birthday!!" They all say in unison.

"I wanted you to celebrate with your friends, so outside I set up the net so you guys can play a few rounds of volleyball." You say meekly with a huge smile plastered on your face.

"Babyyyyyy." Bokuto drags out with a smile.

"Thank you so much! Come on guys! Let's go play some volleyball before it gets super late!" Bokuto kisses you. When he detaches his lips from you, he grabs your arm and drags you out to come play volleyball with all his friends.

[xcrust]

Not very punk?

A little drabble I wrote while procrastinating doing work for school. Its not super detailed and I accidentally made Sal a little more stoic than intended.

Gender neutral reader X Sal Fisher

---

The first time that you met Sal was definitely not the greatest look for you. In fact to this day you sometimes get small bursts of cringe attacks thinking about it. Of course you believed that you can only make a moment embarrassing if you make it. But considering how much you hold him so dear to your heart today. Maybe meeting him and remembering all that embarrassment shows how impactful it was to have met him.

—

"You know for a guy that has blue hair, you're not really that punk"

Every few days you head towards the Addison apartment to visit the resident stoner of the small town of nockfell. You like to claim that you were not someone that frequently gets high. though wouldn't that be a little bit of a fib to the guy that's standing a few feet away.

"Im Sal, my dad and I actually just moved upstairs."

Another person that is going to be a subject to the freakshow of this building. Don't get that thought wrong though, you lived down the road with your parents. Like everywhere else on the planet there are always characters of people you see everyday but something about this complex just has such loud personalities whether it's intended or not. You would've been living amongst the apartment if it weren't for their parents having extremely weird auras of the place. Though it would be hypocritical to trash on it since you're spending half your time there.

“Man, that's a really cool mask! Ignore them. They're actually crazy” Larry got up from his bed to head towards the new guy.

“Larry literally shut your face before I kick you. I can also bet that the mask is a prosthetic.” So actually you are the only one that is high right now. Usually it's you both that get high all the time but as of the past few days Larry has been so freaked out that getting high would just bring one that's super freaked out. So here you were, in a ball.

“They’re actually right about that one” sal speaks out adjusting the straps around his head. For a little guy he does have quite a deep voice.

“See that is really badass!” If anyone saw you or to be more specific if any of your parents saw you then it would be so embarrassing and maybe the usual nerve being around a new person has been washed away. 

“They seem cool…you know that's a lot of big talk for someone that can barely keep their head up” the new guy speaks again. Mainly pointed to Larry because the target of that comment was already out like a light.

“Trust they're honestly very chill. I just don't think that they're even on the same planet as us” the host of the room started while heading towards his speakers. “What's your place in music? Let me show this band that i'm loving right now” 

“You sure that they won't wake up?” Sal asked while approaching the speakers as well. He had no idea but seeing the small bursts of spunk that you maintained while conscious was very alluring. That's not even mentioning the way that they knew what the prosthetic was.

“I have no idea but their loss, with my mom gone it's my rules in my room”

—

"Oh my gosh sally stop bringing that up" You're covering your face. It's in the middle of the day at school. Actually you and Sal were in the middle of bio class. Having been checked out of the lesson for such a long time now. "i promise i've never been that high before in my life and never will be again"

The thing about the first time you met him you were beyond greened out. Actually when you thought he left to search for whatever it was at the time you ran to the bathroom to throw up. Spoiler alert! He was still in the room.

"Im sorry im just trying to make punkness be stronger" He responds holding his heart. The sass of this kid is going to put you in a coma.

In all honesty you didn't know how you got so close to the over dramatic boy in front of you. Larry and Sal got closer before you both started hanging out one on one. Half of the first few months of meeting him the only times that you both interacted was in Larry’s basement. It's not like you avoided him but it's not like you didnt after embarrassing yourself so badly.

“You two in the back! Stop talking and pay attention” 

“Sally, count your days because the minute we are out of this classroom I'm putting you six feet under” You giggled out trying to be quiet. The teacher really only made it all more funny. Beside you sal was holding his mouth scrunched over in the textbook. You reflected looking at him, being in his presence really boosted all good emotions. The connection that you both got from each other has been such a 180 change. Not saying life was terrible before him but a large spark was given to you being together. 

“Ok (Y/N) five second head start and you're dead” 

You leaned back with the biggest smirk on your face. A minute from the bell and you're already stuffing all your things into your bag. Counting yourself lucky that the door is right beside you in the back of the class. 

*RiNG * *RING* *RING*

Before the second ring you're already halfway down the hall. Literally no agility was in your body unless it meant that you can beat any of your closest friends. Take the time you were hanging out with Ash. Putting a bet on whoever got to your house first would mean that the one that got there gets to ride your new motorcycle. The school isn't far and you did win but you could have been mistaken for an asthmatic by the time you got to your house. 

Running into Larry by the lockers you hid around him to make the escape. 

“Who are you getting away from no-” a flash of blue hair came zooming towards you both. If it weren't for the tall resident of the addison basement you wouldn't have gotten away. Pushing Larry to Sal before making it to the courtyards. You'd have to apologize to him when you win. For now it's all for one out here. 

The courtyard was very quiet. It being lunch didn't change the fact that no one was coming here. Though you wouldn't expect that much of a difference with the teachers lounge nearby. Luckily since no one comes here maybe it was time to text him your success. Pulling out your phone to say he didn't catch you within the first few minutes of the bell. 

A second later you're being put into a chokehold. 

“I win”

Sally stands behind you still interlocked. Damn that was kinda- No. Nope that's so wack. Crazy thoughts are reserved for crazy people. Inseconds though you lose your balance and completely fall on the ground. Him landing on top of you

“Woah sal take me on a date first” you said groaning in a choked out laugh. Eyes still not opened from the impact. 

“Wait! Don't open your eyes just yet” he sounded panicked so you followed going back to being relaxed laying down. The sound of buckles and straps being pulled explained the panic. It's been almost a two years since he moved in and to this day it has still been a touchier topic. It's no rush at all to see him though. Sometimes you long for moments to look at his face for long periods of time. Of course at sleepover you would maybe get a small glimpse in the middle of the night but light or lack thereof were basically the cockblock of the century. That being said, if he's not ready then no way in hell would you ask.

“Sorry, I'm good now,” he spoke out. You opened your eyes to see he moved himself a few feet away.

“Sal, you have no reason to apologize! did you do anything wrong? i dont think so” you reaffirm 

He sighs but looks at you with the same look that only you've been bestowed. Both teenagers sit in silence for a bit. You had shifted to sit closer to him to look up at the sky. 

“You know I care about you a lot… you've made this place so much more fun. Feel free to always feel comfortable around me and i'll bother you the same amount.” Talking to Sally like this comes from pure truth. You love him a lot. It could just be platonic or you're just telling yourself that. 

Getting up you grab his hand and start pulling him to the cafeteria. instead of letting go he interlocked your hands a bit tighter than the average person. Though it gave you a bit of happiness. He might not be the best with words sometimes but you appreciated that hand squeeze.  

“Come on! We need to make sure Todd isn't boring everyone to death.”

--

After yet another ghost hunting sesions around the town it was pretty fair to say that the group was entirely pooped. So this brings us to the garage band party? More like a treehouse makeshift acoustic party. The tree was way too far from any extension cord to work so now we work with what we got. It is crazy to think that you've all been fending and mystery solving for nearly four years. In that time it was almost a joke to be called the mystery gang with a bit more emo flavor. During those four years, the relationship between you and Sal seemed to only grow more tense by the second. That's not in a bad way though.

“Hey , Sal and I are going to be getting some munch!” Larry says half way down the tree already. 

“YOOO WAIT, get some barbeque chips! You literally have to or else you're making the children starve!” Ash exclaimed, putting away the guitar.

Sal starts getting up from right beside you. The treehouse was not huge so most of us were sharing seats. You both were rocking in the bean bag. Somehow you both made it work even if it was definitely made for toddlers only. The position that was there was incredibly comfortable until Larry was continuously shouting from the ground.

“I'll see you in a bit” sal says before pushing your head slightly. Looking over to him while he walked out practically put you in a trance. 

Glancing over to Todd and Ash at the other corner of the room you can see them practically frothing at the mouth. The second Sal got out of sight they both pounced onto you. 

“Y/n, you're actually killing us over here” todd reclaimed. “Its been the longest fucking four years of my life watching you both eye fuck eachother.”

Wow, that is the most out of character thing that you've heard him say ever in your life. But like it was such a call out on your name.

“Dude that is so out of pocket” you're grinning while speaking out. “You need to stop hanging around Larry he's ruining your good guy persona”

“Stop it! You're trying to deflect that conversation! You and Sally are actually making us all lose our minds! When are you guys going to get together? ” Ash says. Looking at this intervention with Ash and Todd was almost comical to look at. Both of them really are not fighting the girl and gay best friend stereotype. 

“In my defense, I'd like to know if you ever cornered Sal like you are with me!” In front of them you look like you're taking this as a joke but on the inside you've been shitting yourself trying to think of a way out of this. In actuality you've had such a massive crush on him for so long. 

“Unlike popular belief we have eyes, so of course we've cornered him.” Todd rebutted. 

“Well damn, Uhh im not sure if there is anything that I can say… say what did he say about me?” In response to that, Todd and Ash really deadpanned so hard it almost stabbed you. 

“Depending on the information you tell us then we can decide what we can tell you” He continued.

“You guys suck– so maybe I like him an extremely small itty bitty bit but that really doesn't matter if he doesn't like me back” If they both couldn't deadpan anymore somehow they managed to do it in this instance. 

Just a moment goes by and you hear shuffling at the bottom of the tree. A hushed voice started exclaiming.

“Sal! You just stepped on my foot you whore” 

So this was a set up? You had no idea that Your friends were suicidal. Turning around you see the romance twins looking really nervous. In a flash all hell broke loose.

“Move! LARRY get out OF THE WAY!” Ash yelled while sprinting to the door of the treehouse. 

-

Cut to you with a bag of ice on your ankle. Sitting in your room with Sally holding your ankle to make sure nothing falls off. Long story short while you were trying to hunt the three devils, you fell down a few of the steps in the ladder. 

“So I heard you like me and itty bitty bit? Didn't know you were talking like a 5 year old now” Sal says.

“Oh come off it, maybe that toddler bean bag gave me a lobotomy while you were out” The feeling of it all being so tense. “But what if I do like you?” it's been so long that it really scared you that there was a chance that you could lose him.

“Then I would tell you to not stop. Maybe… for the past few years I really like you more than a bit”

“You know for a guy with blue hair, You’re really hot and maybe a little badass and maybe a little bit punk”

[btsficsandsuch]

Hi , i really like your writings and i enjoy reading your work very much. I read them after long and tiring work days to forget everything that bothers me. So thank you for sharing your work here. I appreciate it. I hope you're feeling great. I wanted to request a yoongi × reader drabble where they're friends and yoongi is trying to flirt with her, throwing some pick up lines etc. but she's kinda inexperienced with dating stuff (yoongi doesn't know that) so she's oblivious to the situation and doesn't get the pick up lines. He gets frustrated, starts to think that the reader is aware of his feelings and just playing dumb to save him from the heart break of rejection. Short time after he gives up, when they were hanging out at a party, someone tries to flirt with reader and she doesn't give a reaction and again doesn't understand the pick up line, yoongi hears the interaction and it clicks on him so he decides to confess directly. Fluffy with a happy ending.

Hope you like it! It’s been a minute since I’ve written for Yoongi.

Pickup Lines

“Hey genius, I brought you some food.”, you said setting the bag of takeout on the table in Yoongi’s studio. He turned around with a smirk, “You’re such a charmer Y/N. How could I ever live without you?” The two of you had a friendship that was filled with lots of teasing and poking fun at each other. That’s how’s its always been for the three years that you knew each other.

Yoongi walked over and plopped down on the couch next to you before grabbing a container of food. Normally Yoongi hated small talk but he always enjoyed it when it came to you. The sound of your voice had a calming effect on him. “Do anything exciting today?”, he asked. You shook your head, “No not really. Just worked and then got food and came here.” “How about you?,” you asked. “Just worked on some music. I’m almost done with this new song.”, he smiled. The two of you continued to eat in silence while scrolling on your phones catching up on social media and whatnot. You started giggling when you came across a new meme of Yoongi dressed up as a cat and you eagerly handed him your phone to show it. He chuckled while looking over the photo before handing the phone back to you. “You know Y/N, if I really was a cat I’d spend all nine of my lives with you.”, he said. “Aww Yoongles you’re adorable.”, you smiled before taking another bite of your meal not giving it a second thought. Yoongi internally scolded himself at his weak attempt of a pickup line.

The two of you finished your meals and you quickly cleaned up wanting to let Yoongi get back to work. “Hey Y/N before you go can I get your opinion on a song I’m working on? I wrote it for someone really special to me. It’s still a work in progress so go easy on me.”, he smiled at you. “Yeah of course!,” you said happily taking the chair next to him. He clicked a few buttons and the song started flowing through the speakers,

“From the moment I met you, ya, my life was all you, ya

You’re the star that turns ordinaries into extraordinaries, oh yeah

One after another ay, ay, everything is special ay, ay

The things you’re interested in, the way you walk or talk, and every little trivial habit of yours.”

Quickly Yoongi turned off the music and shyly looked over at you biting his lip, “What did you think Y/N?” “I love it Yoongi. It already sounds amazing. Whoever this girl is you wrote that for is really lucky. I’d love to meet the person that turned my Yoongles into a romantic mess.” He chuckled on the outside but inside he’s dying. After that you give him a hug and say goodbye before heading home to get some rest.

The following morning you woke up to a text from Yoongi. You thought it was odd that he was already texting you this early on a Saturday but you figured he probably never even went to sleep.

Yoongi: Morning sleepyhead! What are you gonna do today?

Y/N: Not 100% sure. I was thinking about having a Disney movie marathon.

Yoongi: People always say that Disney is the happiest place on Earth, but they’ve clearly never spent a day with you ;)

Y/N: Silly boy! So you wanna come over?

Yoongi: Umm sure. I’ll be there in fifteen.

Y/N: Great! Can’t wait!!

Yoongi ran his hands over his face. He started to question if you ever had feelings for him or if he just interpreted everything all wrong as you didn’t seem to take any of the hints he had been dropping over the last few weeks. Quickly he showered and got ready so he could make it over to your place in time.

When you opened the door you happily greeted Yoongi who presented you with your favorite coffee and muffin from the bakery up the street. “You smell nice. Why are you all dressed up? Hot date tonight?”, you asked. Too busy digging into your breakfast that you didn’t notice the blush creep up his neck. “So I thought we could start with Cinderella since it’s a classic. Then maybe The Little Mermaid. Followed by The Princess and the Frog and maybe Coco is we have time.”, you said. He smiled and nodded in agreement, “Anything you want Y/N.”

The first two movies went by in a flash. You were just finishing up The Little Mermaid when Yoongi turned to look at you and smiled, “Do you know what the Little Mermaid and I have in common? We both want to be part of your world.” You snorted at his joke, “Yoongi you’re my best friend. You are part of my world.”

He shyly chuckled before turning his attention back to the screen. Yoongi continuously tried to get close to you. His hand slowly crept closer to yours. He kept sneaking peeks trying to work up the courage to actually grab your hand. As the third movie began he couldn’t help but notice how cute you looked getting all excited. He doesn’t know where this sudden burst of confidence came from but he does the classic yawn and stretch so he could place his arm smoothly around your shoulders to try and encourage you to cuddle into him. “Are you cold Yoongi? I can get you a blanket.”, you asked noticing his arm around you. You simply thought he just wanted some extra warmth.

Yoongi shook his head and removed his arm, “No Y/N, actually I think I’m gonna get going. I have to work on some music.” You pouted at his sudden departure, “Alright, well I hope you have a good night at least.” He smiled and left your apartment not even giving you the opportunity to walk him to the door. It did seem odd but it wasn’t uncommon for him to have mood swings so you shrugged it off and decided to give him space.

A few hours of space turned into a few days and next thing you know it had been a week since you’d seen Yoongi. Unless he was on tour the two of you never went more than a day without seeing each other but every time you texted him to try and hang out he always had an excuse. Luckily tonight was Jimin’s birthday party and you knew Yoongi was going to be there. Normally he would pick you up but since he was avoiding you Jungkook offered to pick you up instead.

“Thank you for the ride Kookie.”, you said buckling up in the passenger seat. “It’s no problem Noona. I just hope Yoongi doesn’t find out. He always gets a little jealous when we hang out with you.”, the younger member said. Before you could question what he meant by that the two of you arrived and he hopped out of the car jogging over to the passenger side to help you out.

Once inside you quickly noticed Yoongi sitting in the corner talking to Namjoon and Hoseok. You waved and began to make your way over when you got side tracked by Jin who pulled you into the kitchen to get you a drink. While you were sipping form your cup you felt a presence come up next to you. Thinking it was Yoongi you happily turned around but were met by some guy you’d never seen before. He smiled down at you, “Is your name Google? Because you have everything I’m searching for.” You chuckled, “No actually my name is Y/N. And your name is?” The guy looked stunned, “Oh my name is Soobin. Sorry I hear one of my friends calling for me.” He turned and quickly walked away and that’s when you saw Yoongi standing in the doorway with a big grin on his face while laughing to himself.

He walked over to you and grabbed your hand pulling you outside where it was quieter and less crowded. “There you are Yoongles! I’ve missed you so much.”, you said happy that you were finally spending time with him. “Yeah sorry about that. I just needed some time to think.”, he said. Gently he took your hand in his, “Listen Y/N. This is really hard for me to say so I’m just going to come out and say it. I really like you a lot. I’ve been dropping hints for weeks. I’ve been using pick up lines and trying to get close to you. When you weren’t reacting I thought maybe you were just trying to be polite and not hurt my feelings but I see now that maybe you just weren’t getting the hints. It’s okay if you really don’t like me in that way but I just had to be honest and tell you the truth. I’m sorry I kind of abandoned you the last week. I just wanted some time to think and decide what I wanted to do.”

You were kind of surprised at his confession but in a good way. “That song you played for me. Did you write that about me?”, you asked. Shyly he smiled, “Yeah, I actually have quite a few songs I’ve written about you.” You smacked yourself on the forehead, “Oh my god I’m so dumb. I’m sorry Yoongi. I’ve never really dated before so I’m not used to this kind of attention and I didn’t even notice it. The truth is I kind of actually like you too. I was going to tell you that day I brought you food to your studio but then you played me the song and I thought you already had your heart set on someone else so I never said anything.” The two of you started laughing at the situation you put yourselves in.

“Hey how about we get out of here and go hangout at my place?”, you asked. He agreed and quickly called for a cab since the two of you had some alcohol earlier in the night. Once in the back of the cab you felt your phone vibrate and saw a text from Yoongi,

Yoongi: Is this the Hogwarts Express? Because it feels like you and I are headed somewhere magical.

You rolled your eyes before leaning over and placing a kiss on his cheek watching his ears turn red, happy that the two of you finally cleared the air.

[lis-likes-fics]

Let Me Show You the Light

Pairings: Jonathan Crane x Reader Word Count: 10k words (i don't know either) Kink: Mirror Sex Warnings: NSFW, noncon (honestly, this kinda ended being dub at the end? dunno how that happened... warning still applies), dark content loss of virginity, humiliation, multiple orgasms, creampie, dumbification, depictions of horror, use of fear toxin, insanity, mention of murder/death... A/N: Okay, I enjoyed writing this way too much. This was like...filthy. But you know what, we ball. Enjoy, I wrote this in two days! Also A/N: PS, I made a few changes to the taglist, so please send me a message or go to the taglist doc to make any necessary changes (or just to add yourself!) Link in my bio and at the bottom of this post!

Someone's watching you.

You can feel the heat on the back of your head. It's a warmth that gathers there and makes you look over your shoulder in search of that phantom you could never seem to catch.

And it's not just out in the open either. It's a constant hair-stands-on-end. It's on your way to work, to the coffee shop, to the store, back home. It's in your kitchen, in your living room, in your bedroom, in your bathroom.

You feel…unclean. Everything you do in the comfort and privacy of your own home is being watched by this strange ghost haunting your every move. And you stop as you look behind yourself again because you feel it.

Someone's watching you.

You startle as the crowd of the Gotham city streets scurries around you and eventually delivers you a victim to run into. "I'm so sorry!" you say quickly as you are shoved back slightly, steadying yourself as you reach bend down to pick up the briefcase that had been knocked from the man's hand.

"It's quite alright. It seems I wasn't paying attention," he offers, bending down to pick it up instead.

Your hands touch as you both grab the handle at the same time. You quickly pull it away. You look up for the first time at the person you'd run into and recognize him almost immediately. You've never really met him in person, but you've learned a lot about him through the happenings at the precinct.

"Dr. Crane," you say as you pick up the suitcase and straighten your posture. You quickly hand it over to him.

"That's me," he says, nodding. He looks over you for just a split second, as if he's admiring you as he takes you. There's something cold about his gaze that makes you want to shudder, but you refrain. "May I ask your name?"

You give it, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. He holds his hand out and you hesitantly take it. He shakes it, holding your hand a moment too long and making your skin crawl as he tilts his chin to the side. "Very nice to meet you," he smiles. "May I ask where you're headed? I would love to walk with you if you wouldn't mind."

You clear your throat, "Actually, I think we were headed opposite ways. I'm headed to the precinct for work."

"Ah. A secretary? Assistant?" he wonders.

You shake your head, fighting the urge to check the time. You really shouldn't be seen talking to someone like Jonathan Crane, not with the rumors and bad dealings floating about his name. This city was bent enough, you couldn't be lost to something like this. But showing disrespect to a potential threat wouldn't be a grand idea either…

"Um, no," you smile tightly. "I'm a crime analyst."

His brows raise as he nods, though the new information doesn't reach his eyes. "Well, then. Until we meet again. Safe travels."

You nod shortly and he brushes past you on his way. You look over your shoulder as he disappears into the crowd.

As you turn and begin your walk again, the feeling sticks to your skin like a cold sweat on a winter's day. Someone's watching you.

~

You meet Jonathan Crane for the second time at a bookshop.

With the lingering feeling looming over you like a shadow, things are beginning to feel like they're getting out of hand. You search the aisles slowly, almost absently, as your finger grazes the spines of different published authors in the nonfiction section. You pick a book from its place on the shelf and flinch when you turn and find someone standing behind you.

You clutch your hand to your chest as you steady your beating heart. "You scared me," you chuckle nervously.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

You look up and nearly freeze at the sight of a smiling Jonathan Crane standing before you once more, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose as he looks at you almost apologetically.

You swallow thickly, taking a tiny step back. "Dr. Crane."

He seems to recognize you then as he nods gently. "We meet again." You hum. "What brings you to this side of the bookshop? I didn't take you for a nonfiction kind of girl."

You tilt your head. "No? What did you take me for?"

He shrugs, "Paranormal? A little bit of romance here and there?"

You maintain your tight smile, shifting between your feet as you nod gently. He's not right, but he's not wrong. However, the most unsettling thing about it isn't even that he's a little right… it is the fact that you've met this one time and it was a conversation that lasted less than a minute. Either he took one hell of a guess or there was something going on there that wouldn't be very pleasant for you. Given the heat burning on your skin from your constant paranoid surveillance, you'd guess the latter.

"Good guess," is all you say.

He glances down at the book tucked underneath your arm and hums. "What's that you've got?"

You look down at it and take it into your hands again. You look over the cover and hand it over. He takes it, and his fingers brush over yours. You shudder uncomfortably, pulling your hand away and hoping he doesn't notice the way you rub your hand on your side. He does, but you don't know that as he spends too much time reading the title.

"The Art of Intuition," he reads. "Sounds like an interesting read."

You nod, "I'm hoping. It's for…work, so…"

He furrows his brows, "You said you worked as an intelligence analyst?"

You nod again, more firmly this time as you take the book back. "Yes… Well, intuition is important for everything, isn't it?"

He nods along and hums. "That, it is."

You clear your throat, "What about you? What are you reading?"

He looks at his own book, as though he'd just realized it was there. He passes it on to you as you had done.

The Power of Fear and How to Conquer It

You stare at the title a moment longer than you should, feeling clammy and warm and very unsafe as you hand the book back. "Sounds like it'll keep you busy."

He nods. "It will."

The way he says it washes you in a cold feeling. The hairs along your arms stand on end and you nearly shudder. You should leave.

You smile as kindly as you can manage, taking a step away from him and nodding. "I should probably get going."

You turn to leave. He grabs your arm. Though he wasn't harsh, you still turn quickly with an almost startled look to you as you wonder what he'll do. You're safe, right? In the middle of this store? You look around you, but there is nothing around but books that would become the readers to the story unfolding before them.

"Wait," he laughs gently.

You speak almost immediately, the words blurting out of your mouth. "Please let go of me."

He does, much to your relief, as he fixes his glasses. "Forgive me." You hum and look away from his face. "I've actually been thinking about you."

You don't like the way it sounds when he says it. It gives a foreboding feeling that just makes you squirm. "I wanted to say this before but I didn't want to be…strange."

Too late.

"You told me your name. I couldn't help but recognize it." Oh, no. "Your father is Boucher, isn't he?"

How did he know that?

"How do you know that?" you ask, taking another step back. "I changed my last name so no one would know that."

"Well," he begins, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "That shows up on file, and he's one of my patients, so I've seen your name in said files before. Both of them."

You clasp your hands together in front of you as you bow your head, not looking up at him and hating the way he feels so intimidating as he watches you. "Yes," you clear your throat. He notices the way your voice drops, the disdain almost betrayed in your tone. "My father is Boucher. My birth name is Boucher."

He smiles. "Interesting."

You look up, snappy. "Why?"

"I work in psychology. It's my job to find everything interesting," he says lightly, noticing your defense and seeming…amused by it.

You don't like it.

"Yeah, well, that bastard killed my mother, and I am no longer associated with him. So, if you don't mind, I'm not Boucher and I would like to be going now. Thank you." You turn to leave, and he grabs your arm again. You spin around, and you snap again.

"Stop touching me," you blurt. Your skin crawls with the feeling, like bugs on your skin where his hand touches your arm. When he still doesn't let go of you, you look at him again and yank your arm away to no avail. Suddenly, you startle as you look him straight in the eye and almost shrink. He can see the switch, the way your anger dissolves into that of apprehension, almost fear. You can see the switch in his eyes, too. His amusement has worsened.

Your heart drops to your gut and pounds in your throat. "Please stop touching me." You've gotten almost desperate in the past second and Crane's cold eyes watch every little emotion pass through you like he's watching you under a microscope.

After a moment, he lets go of you. For a second, you think he looks pleased. Like he was conducting an experiment, and he proved his theory true. You put distance between the both of you as soon as you're able and grab your arm. He didn't hurt you, but you've officially been spooked. You don't meet his gaze.

"Forgive me again," he says. You don't feel like he's genuine, but you could be biased. "I seem to have offended you. That wasn't my intention." Was he lying? You feel like he's lying, but you refuse to look at him as he watches you. "Do you live far? How about I take you home?"

You do live a little far from here. You took a cab to get to the bookshop, but you don't feel comfortable getting in a car with him.

"Please," he says, putting more effort into removing the lack of emotion from his voice as he steps closer. You take a step back but catch the way he places his hands behind his back. No touching. An olive branch. He watches as you visibly relax a little. "Let me make it up to you."

You finally look up at his face again. There's a little bit of warmth in his eyes, and you can't tell if it's real or not. Still, he doesn't try to touch you again and he's offering you a smile. Part of you feels like you're being tricked, the book still tucked under your arm burning a hole there. But the other part of you feels like it's just your trust issues getting the better of you—as they often do. You take a moment to think.

And then you sigh as you let go of your arm and speak again. "One condition."

"Of course," he nods.

"Please don't touch me again."

His arms flex at his sides like he's re-establishing his hands being behind his back. "As you wish."

You sigh again and nod. "Okay."

He smiles, and you have to look away before you give into your trust issues again and forfeit his offer. His smile isn't pleased in the way it's meant to be. It feels like he's caught a fish on his hook, and he's reeling it in for dinner. You check out your books.

Dr. Crane leads you to his car, a black Buick LeSabre that looks like it has seen a couple of years, a couple dents here and scratches there giving character to the otherwise sleek thing.

He opens the passenger's door and lets you in. It's your last chance to say no but you get in anyway. You're in too deep, you already accepted.

He smiles, pleased. He takes his seat and starts driving. For the first few minutes, it's deadly quiet. Neither of you say anything—you're still pissy from before. Crane glances at you and decides to break the silence.

"Are you still upset?" he wonders unintelligently.

You glare at him out of the corner of your eye and then look away. Choosing to be a little kinder than you feel, you contain the sarcasm you can feel biting at your teeth. "Yes."

He sighs. "I apologize for my behavior. I didn't mean to frighten you."

You scoff, shaking your head as you look out of the window to see the world of Gotham pass by you. "Yes, you did."

He hums. "How do you know?"

I could see it in your eyes. It feels offensive to say, like you are accusing him of being insane. As you glance at him, you decide to reword your sentence.

"Just felt like it," you dismiss. You rub a hand along your arm, uncomfortable at the idea of being so vulnerable as to displaying fear to this man, this man who seemed to inspire so much distrust and unsafety in you. "And, anyway, I wasn't scared."

You miss the way his hands clench around the steering wheel. "No?"

"No," you shake your head. "Just…disturbed. You were being strange."

He clears his throat. "Like I said, it wasn't my intention." His voice has shifted, but you feel like he's finally telling you the truth. Disturbing you wasn't his intention.

You hum, and that's the last thing said between the two of you for the remaining few minutes of the car ride.

Your home comes into view and you sigh. This whole ordeal would be over in just a few seconds. He drives up to your house, and you make quick work of removing your seat belt and reaching for the door.

But the door is locked.

You look at him tentatively, trying not to let on how desperate you've become to leave his presence as quickly as possible. "Could you unlock the door?" you ask, your voice surprisingly level.

He turns to you to look at you. His smile comes after. "Of course."

The lock clicks, and you open the door immediately. You get out and stand at the door, relief floods you to be safely out of reach. "Thanks for the ride," you mutter half-heartedly.

"Of course," he repeats. "Until we meet again." He speaks your name, and you hate the way it makes you feel. Unclean. Impure.

You close the door.

As you watch his car disappear down the street, your blood runs cold with the icy burn of horror and you feel sick to your stomach.

You never gave him your address.

~

Someone's watching you.

All day, even within the safety of the precinct, you felt someone's eyes on you at every moment. You were constantly looking over your shoulder, constantly searching for a spector you could not find. But no one was looking at you. No one's eyes met yours unless you were in the middle of an interaction with another person.

You weren't safe. Something was going to happen. You could feel it–

You return to the present at the sight of another human being in front of you. You give a tight smile to the person perched at the edge of your desk and nod. "Gordon."

He greets you the same, glancing over your desk to see what you're working on. He has files in his hands, and you watch him set them on your desk in a place vacant of work.

"I need you to analyze these for me," he says.

You nod, "That's my job."

"Yeah," he says, looking you up and down and noticing the way you glance around a little. "You okay? You look a little jumpy."

You look at him quickly and nod, another tight smile covering your lips. "Oh, yeah. Felt a little off today, but I'm okay."

"Anything I need to help with?" he tries.

You shake your head. "No," you say. "No, I'm okay. Thanks."

He hums before he just nods along with you. "Okay. Be careful out there, Bou–"

You look at him, and he looks away.

"Sorry." He quickly corrects himself and walks away.

Gordon means well. Your father was arrested when he was first starting out, so he was here when it was still a huge deal. He knew all about you and the case. Everyone did.

Your name change came as soon as you started your job at the precinct. Everyone was so used to calling you Boucher's kid, some—like Gordon—are still adjusting.

But it doesn't matter. It's passing, and the whole ordeal will be behind you soon. Buried in the past forever.

You stay at the precinct for a while. It isn't safe anywhere, but at least you were surrounded by people who knew how to operate a gun better than you.

When those people finally begin going home, so do you. You pack your things and take a breath as you clock out and leave.

It's late as you're headed home, and you suddenly regret deciding to stay so long. It's dark out, and the only lights are the ugly orange street lamps shining on the damp ground and the blaring ones from a few passing cars. You clutch your purse and walk faster.

The feeling gets worse the longer it takes to get home. It's hot on the back of your head, it's cold along your arms, it has your heart dropping to your stomach and burning there as it pounds. Somebody's watching you. Somebody's watching you. Somebody is watching you.

You finally make it home. Fishing your keys from your purse, you manage to unlock the door without fumbling with them and dropping them to the ground like you see in those stupid horror movies that make your paranoia worse.

You unlock your door and step inside.

You're forced into a coughing fit as a heavy smoke envelopes you. You hold your arm up to your face as you swipe at the air in an attempt to clear it.

Your eyes and lungs burn as you fight to breathe, trying to see through the haze as your heart races in your chest so hard, you feel like it'll tear its way through your ribcage and fall to the ground with a sickening splat.

You close your door after stumbling fully inside, turning around to lock it and struggling to do even that. You turn and catch yourself on the stand next to the door, overestimating the reach and knocking the glass bowl that held your keys to the ground. It shatters, and you nearly scream at the startling sound.

You look up into your dark home and see a million eyes staring back at you. Shadows leap out at you from the corners, light from outside glints off huge, sharp butcher knives flying toward you. Sickly crows sprout from pictures in the walls and scream, a cacophony of "Boucher" and "butcher" filling the room with the shrill shrieks of a dying woman.

It takes a long time to separate from the front door. You stand on shaking legs, carrying yourself through the house and falling to the floor on more than one occasion, startling each time as you find yourself covered in more and more blood, the color so dark it appears black in your vision.

You don't know if you're crying when you feel the hot tears streaming down your cheeks or if you've managed to get blood on your face as well. You smear it over your cheeks just to see. With red already covering your hands, you're still not sure.

You get to your bedroom and flip on the light, but the bright flash blinds you as you shield your eyes and turn it off again. Eyes ooze out of the walls like millions of ogres watching you hold your weak body up against the wall.

"We meet again."

A dark, distorted voice echoes off the walls and fills your soul like a demon from hell possessing your body.

Your first instinct is the beg. For safety, for relief, for help, anything. You just want it to stop.

"Please," you cry. "Please, please, please."

You look up at the figure watching you, dressed in a slightly damaged suit and his face…his face is covered with a burlap sack remnant of that of a scarecrow. He tilts his head as he stands and makes his way toward you with a taunting pace.

"Am I scaring you now?"

"Please, please," is all you could muster as you look away from him.

"Look at me!" he roars.

You slowly bring your gaze back up as his shoes come into view. You look up at the man before you, one you are beginning to suspect is very real and the source of your fear as you stare at the sack over his face. Black ooze comes pouring from the tears that make up his mouth and fifty eyes are blinking back at you like a heavily rooted potato.

A hand finds the top of your head and you wince at the heavy, clammy feeling of it as you find your voice and beg a little louder. "Please! Please, no, please."

"Aww…you don't like when I touch you?" His hand smooths down your cheek and you try to swat it away from no avail. His sing-songy voice continues to echo in your ears with the groaning sound of a broken down animatronic. "What did Daddy do to you?"

You try to catch your breath as you lean down, pressing your forehead to the floor to try and ground yourself.

He raises a finger. “I can answer that question. Would you like me to?” You shake your head meekly. He ignores you.

You watch hazily as he backs away from you, finally taking his hand off your cheek and giving you air, even if you are still heaving for breath. He turns his back on you to stand by your bedside table, picking a file up from it and turning back to you. The burlap sack continues to blink at you as he speaks, and you feel sick to your stomach just looking at it.

The ground is sinking away, and the walls are breathing. You’re sitting on a stretch of darkness and void, and you’re going to start falling at any second.

“Please,” you whisper uselessly again. “He…lp. Please hel…help.”

“Hush,” he whispers, not in an upset way. It’s almost sassy. Then he lets out a dramatic sigh as he tilts his sacked head. “You know what? I’m going to have to take this off. It’s quite hard to read in this mask.”

He pulls the mask over his head and takes in a breath, looking back down at you with a face that runs your blood cold and stops your heart in your chest. “Much better,” he says, the distortion gone but the horror still present.

Jonathan Crane looks down at you, watching you struggle to clear your mind of the terrifying images flashing behind your eyes like a million million nightmares plaguing your thoughts. “I can see you better now. Isn’t that just perfect?”

He picks his glasses from the table beside him and readjusts the files in his hands after putting them on. “Let’s see,” he says, licking the tip of his finger to open the manilla folder and reveal its mysterious contents. “Yada, yada, yada…and bingo.”

He points to something on the papers in the folder and looks at you, his lips spreading in a grin that doesn’t stop widening, like his mouth is going to slip off his face. You blink away from him. He starts reading something off—a name, a patient number, and a date… Your therapist’s name, your patient number, and one of the date’s marked from a past appointment…

“‘Ms. Boucher’—this was before the name change, I suppose—‘finally chooses to open up about aversion to physical touch. She references instances from childhood memories with her father, times of hardship or general dismay when he provided her comfort. All comfort is described as physical, rather than verbal—holding a hand, sharing a hug, rubbing a back. Mr. Boucher never did well with verbal communication.’”

Crane glances at you, curled up on the ground as your head spins still, reeling with the revelation of everything you’re hearing as personal information that was never meant to get out. “Interesting stuff.” He keeps reading.

“Ms. Boucher recounts the night of her mother’s incident and the aftermath when her father came to her. Once again gives vague memories of a hug and a rubbed back, but no further detail was given due to distorted memories of the incident. Patient’s aversion is likely associated with distrust and suspicion because of the father’s behavior with physical affection. Patient experiences physical contact as a trick of virtue.”

He looks at you and smiles with teeth, rows and rows of sharp teeth that gleam in the light. He snaps his jaw at you in a teasing bite but you’re not sure if you imagined it or not.

“Aw,” he fawns mockingly. “Are you traumatized, sweetheart? Did watching your father slaughter your mother with a butcher knife fuck up that little brain of yours?” He looks at the file again and scans it, muttering to himself as he goes along. “Other symptoms include irritability, trust issues, PTSD—obviously—sensitivity to sound, blah, blah, blah.”

You hadn’t realized you were crying. The sound only reaches your ears now, out of place with the rest of the sounds around you—the droning, the taunting, the screaming, the blinking of a million eyes in the walls, the brandishing of a million knives in the kitchen.

Again, you beg him. You don’t know what you’re begging for anymore.

“What?” Crane asks, looking down at you and raising a brow. “Was I just getting to the good part? Was that a please…keep reading?” When you gave no response, other than a startle flinch and cry at a deformed crow flapping around your head and disappearing.

“I’ll keep going then,” he nods, pleased. He keeps glancing back and forth between you and the file and he seems almost giddy. “Oh, I’m so excited now. I haven’t read this far yet, I wanted to do it with you.” He flips the page and hums. “Hm…let’s see…”

He scans the pages uninterestedly, gliding his finger along it and flicking the pages as he wanders back and forth between one end of the room and the other. “Oh, here’s a good part,” he says, sinking on the floor next to you as you clutch your head. He taps the top of your head to grab your attention, making you look up so he can see your exhausted face still stricken with copious amounts of fear, “Hey, pay attention. I don't want to repeat myself.”

He opens the file wide and begins reading. “Patient admits to having issues with intimacy. Her aversion to physical touch conflicting with her desperate need for it creates complications within both her romantic and sexual lives. She explains the issue is so ‘pathetic’, she remains…” He stops reading and looks at you again, his lips parted and his eyes wide with shock and interest. “...’she remains a virgin to this day’.”

In all honesty…you are not paying much attention to him. You’re staring wide-eyed at the floor, which has become a black void that stresses on for miles and miles. You swear you can see the eyes and teeth of angry leviathans glinting up from the bottom, ready to swallow you whole at a moment’s notice.

He takes your chin in the palm of his hand and tilts your head up to look at him. The sound that comes out of you out of the pure horror of it makes you sound like you’ve just been gutted. “Oh, sweetheart… If you wanted me to fuck you, all you had to do was ask.”

He takes hold of you and lifts you to your feet. He has to hoist you, as your whole body feels limp, and you don’t know how to make it move without fully believing you’ll fall into the abyss below you. You gasp and stare wide eyed at Crane as one of his hands wraps around your throat and under your chin and the other holds the top of your head. You grab at his wrist and claw at his hand, trying desperately to remove his touch from you and failing horribly. He isn’t hurting you, but fuck if it doesn’t feel like it.

“I wonder how I didn’t pick up on it sooner…” he hums. “I’ve been watching you for months, and not once did you ever meet with a potential date of any kind. I kind of just assumed you weren’t looking for a relationship.”

Your heart leaps out of your mouth. You swear, you saw it fall to the ground like you’d thought before when whatever mist had begun all of this first started. Your blood freezes in your veins. You could swear your skin has turned blue.

He’s been watching you for months. His were the eyes that watched your every move, that followed you to work, to your bedroom, to your shower. His were the eyes that kept you company in the early of the morning and the late of the night. His were the eyes that haunted your waking hours, inspiring each glance over your shoulder, each extra click of your locks. He’s been watching you.

“Y-you,” you whimper. “You…you’re…you’re the one. You…”

“Shh,” he says, silencing you as you tremble in his hands. “I thought it was cute when you bought that book. The Art of Intuition… You could feel me, couldn’t you? You could feel my eyes on you at every moment of the day… Well, not every moment. I’ve got cameras in your house, I was able to hack into the ones at the precinct. I had to keep up with my little Boucher. I wanted to see if she could turn into her father, if she needed a little nudge like he did to go over the edge… I thought my fear toxin might do that but…no… I got something much more enticing.”

He brings you close to his face, his glasses melding with his skin as his eyes stare back at you like black pits surrounded by pure white. He’s staring at your face, so drenched with pure terror that you can’t do anything but stare. He smiles wide, his expression crazed.

“Look at you,” he says, nearly moaning out the words as he shakes his head. “You look so gorgeous like this. You’re so…delicious.” He nearly growls when he says that, actually leaning closer to your face and taking your lip between his teeth gingerly. You cry out, though he doesn’t actually bite you. “I could just eat you up. Oh, you should see yourself.”

You’re crying without tears now, though your face is soaked with them. You haven’t blinked in hours (it’s been a couple minutes), and the sounds are leaving your throat like a rough sob. His eyes have disappeared and his glasses are only giving aid to pits of skin where his eyes should be. His mouth is sewn shut with ugly, black cross-stitchings, and his nose is gone, giving him a dip in his face like a skeleton.

He begins walking you toward the mirror that you definitely had not placed there. He must have taken it from inside your closet and hung it up prior to your arrival. You take a good, long look at yourself, and you’ve never felt like you’ve wanted to sink into the pit so strongly before.

You’ve never seen this woman before in your entire life. Her face is monstrous, though you don’t know why. She was an echo of you, except she looks nothing like you and she’s covered in blood. You know nothing and everything about her, and you just know she knows everything about you. You’re so terrified of this strange woman, the knives still brandishing themselves with their shrill shrieks in the kitchen are sounding quite useful now as the sudden urge to defend yourself fills you.

You feel the need to scream rise in your throat, and this is an urge you can’t contain as a sharp cry leaves your throat at the sight of this person being held by Crane in the mirror. She screams back at you, blood gushing from her mouth like a river of tar. He laughs as he covers your mouth with his hand, silencing you with such amusement. “Oh, my! I should not have given you such a high dosage. You must be going out of your little mind right now…”

He lets go of your mouth and you can see him rustle around in his suit, but you’re still staring at the woman, unable to look away. It takes everything you have not to scream at her again. He pulls a vial out of a pocket on the inside of his suit and pulls the cork from it. He encourages your lips around it, making you take half the vial into your mouth and forcing you to swallow it down.

The antidote works quickly, but it doesn’t solve the issue in its entirety. You watch as the woman in the mirror slowly becomes more and more familiar until you can look at her and see that it’s just a reflection of you. You sigh heavily, your chest heaving as you feel your heart back in its proper place behind your ribcage. The brandishing has disappeared, the birds have flown away, the shrieking and screaming and sinking and blinking are gone.

But your heart is still very much pounding and you still very much cannot catch your breath to calm yourself. The terror is still there as you stare upon Jonathan Crane’s face and feel the first bursts of necessary fear.

You are in danger. Real danger. Crane is in your house, he has your medical files, and he seems to think you want him in your bed.

“Please,” you whisper once you can find your voice, hoarse with all the crying. At least the blood is gone. “Please, let me go. Don’t hurt me…”

“Oh…” he says. “I know…it’s just your ‘aversion of physical contact’. It’s too much for you right? Well, lucky for you, I dabble in exposure therapy myself. We should be able to solve your issue right here, right now.”

New tears find your eyes, and you shake your head. He’s still holding you, and your skin is crawling. You feel sick. “Don’t… Please don’t. I can’t—I don’t—please.”

He shushes you as he drags you to the bed. You have little to no strength to fight him. You’d exerted yourself so much when that toxin had poisoned your brain. It’s still poisoning your brain now as the situation Jonathan was putting you through paralyzed you with fear. You couldn’t think, you could hardly form a full sentence. His hands are still on you, and it burns your skin. You can’t breathe.

He places you on the bed, positioning you how he wants you so you stand on your knees and face him. He takes a step back and looks at you, takes in the sight of you thoughtfully as he brushes his bottom lip with his thumb. “Look at you,” he mutters. “I liked you more with more of my fear toxin in your system, but we can bring out more fear in you without. We don’t want your little heart exploding in the middle of our session, now do we?”

If you were still so heavily infected with his toxin, you would have seen the splatters of blood and meat and matter bursting and covering you and the walls after seeing your own beating heart fall out of your mouth. But you aren’t as heavily infected, so you only imagined it vividly and shuddered.

Jonathan steps forward and takes your neck in his hand again. You squeeze your eyes shut and huff, “Please, stop. Stop, stop touching me, please. Please.”

He doesn’t listen. He’s too giddy at the way you beg him, the way your hands shake at your sides. You could try to fight him. You could swing your arms and hit and kick and scream but you just…won’t. You can’t. You’re too scared. The toxin affects you so much you can do nothing but sit there. You’re otherwise paralyzed.

So, no, he doesn’t let go of you. He holds your neck and brings you in close, his other hands smooths along your waist as you just shudder as a terrible sob leaves your chest once more. “I’m going to eat you up,” he emphasizes each word. “You and I are gonna work together. We’re going to work you through your little aversion, your fears. You and I…” He brings his hand up and brushes his knuckles over your clothed nipple.

You shake with fear and disgust. “No, please…”

He takes off his glasses, his hand continuing to graze your chest as you sit there, staying as still as you can as his hand threatens to tighten around your throat if you move too much when he doesn’t want you to.

"...are going to make art." You stare at him with your watery eyes, whimpering lightly as he just shushes you again.

His lips crash down upon yours and your seal them shut as you feel his tongue licking insistently at the seam of your mouth. His teeth clash against yours, making the kiss rough and cutting and you think you'll die.

All too quickly, you can't breathe. Your lungs are closing in, and the world is spinning. His hand finds your hair, carding through it and tugging harshly to expose your throat. He attacks you, lips and teeth and tongue devouring your throat like a starving beast.

You're burning. There are so many hands on you, so much touch all over your body driving you insane with sensitivity. You feel like someone has coated you in molten lava and condemned you to death.

You sigh shakily. "Jon—Jonathan. Please… stop."

"Shhh," he drags out the sound as he places a finger over his lips. He leans in close to your face as he speaks. "Please…the doctor is in."

He kisses you again and you gasp when he grabs your throat once more, baring his teeth and staring down at you shaking with fear. His voice is low and fast as he speaks to you, crazed and craven. "I am going to rip you apart. I'll make you scream until mine is the only name you know–"

He raises his hand to touch your face. A sudden burst of adrenaline courses through your veins, and you reach out to shove it away. You grab his hand by the wrist in a vice grip, but you hadn't realized there was something hiding beneath the cuff of his sleeve.

The mist from before—his toxin—sprays through the air and right into Jonathan's face as he inhales it with a terrible gasp. His mouth falls open, his eyes roll back. His grip on you loosens, and you stumble to your feet to get away from him.

You get to the door before he grabs you from behind and growls in your ear, his voice straining. "You didn't think you'd get away that easily, did you?" He's breathing loudly, roughly, his vision plagued by nightmares and horrible images haunting his mind.

He lets out a monstrous breath, picking you up and dragging you right back to the bed as you kick and scream and cry. He set you on the bed, still holding you, back-to-chest. "You're an angel," he grunts. "You're glowing, sweetheart."

Based on your experience with the toxin, he could be being literal. Either way, he isn't letting you go. You're trapped as his wandering hands pull at your clothes and rip your shirt from your body. He lets the rags fall around you, breathing in deeply and letting out a sound akin to a moan as the hallucinations get the better of him.

He just starts tearing, stripping you clothing by clothing. He yanks your slacks from your legs, but you don't let him do it easily as you continue to kick your feet out and cry.

After a while, your fight begins to wane at his nerves as he wraps his arms around you and holds you still. "There's plenty of toxin left if you want me to dose you again."

You still, holding your breath and feeling the anxiety and dread rise within you with each passing second. "I didn't think so," he whispers. His hands grab at your waist, pulling and palming at your sides like you've still got clothes he needs to remove. But you're completely bare, carved open for the world to see.

"Fuck," he curses, blinking quickly as he stares at you. "You have no idea how much I need you. This perfect body and these…beautiful nightmares make for the perfect combination." It sounds like it takes his whole body to breathe in. He sighs heavily, "I guess I should thank you, hm? For giving me this."

His hand grasps your inner thigh and his nails dig into the flesh. A shout forces its way out of your throat at the feeling of his claw-like fingers scratching all of your terribly exposed skin. He moans loudly at the sound of it, his other hand joining to paint you in red. Jonathan pushes your naked body down on the bed, and you shout when his hand cracks down on your ass in a loud smack. His—still fully clothed—body is pressed against yours once again in no time. He reaches a hand up and cards it through your hair, gripping it to pull you back up with a harsh tug.

"Look at yourself, sweetheart," he breathes. When you don't listen, he becomes angry and erratic. "Look! Look at it!"

You jump at his outburst, turning your shaky head to look at your reflection in the mirror. He'd placed it so specifically. He was always going to make you watch…

He pulls your hair tighter and smiles evilly. "Look at you," he sighs. Looking in the mirror and watching him, you have no idea what he's seeing in that fucked up mind of his, but you know it would break you.

You feel him grind his hips into you and close your eyes, opening them quickly again as not to irritate him further. "Do you feel how hard I am for you? Oh, baby, I'm going to split you in half."

"Please, doctor," you beg again.

His evil grin becomes all the worse, and you hear the sound of his belt clinking. "No, no, no, no, no," you mutter under your breath, shaking your head as you bury your face in the sheets of your bed, soaking it with your tears.

"Beg me to fuck you, sweetheart. Beg me to ruin you," he groans. You continue shaking your head and muttering your protests under your breath. "Do it."

You feel like your heart is going to explode in your chest. You can't breathe. You can't see. You just want an end to the madness, to the torture.

"Please," you sob. "Please, please, please, please, please, please."

It doesn't sound like a word anymore. It sounds like gibberish in your brain as he smiles and sighs, so pleased and so happy with you. The insanity clouds your head.

"Music to my ears," he hums. "Well…since you asked so nicely."

He reaches down and you shake when his middle finger presses against your folds, slick with arousal that had begun wetting your panties since the toxin first sent you into your craze.

"Oh, you're so desperate for me, aren't you?" He shakes his head and chuckles. "Must be why you begged me so much."

You don't have the will to fight his claim. You feel dirty at the making of it anyway.

Jonathan takes his cock into his hand and strokes himself twice. You feel the head of his cock poke at your pussy, working its way between your folds until he's perfectly positioned. He pushes his hips into yours slowly, and you want to sob, but there's so few tears left in you to make more than the sound as he does, in fact, split you open on his cock.

He's so big, so thick as he thrusts inside of you and fills you to the brim. You cry out at the feeling, the pressure so great it's painful, the intrusion much bigger than what your fingers have to offer.

"Ah," you keen. "D-Doctor, please."

He moans roughly as he bottoms out inside of you, his mouth hanging ajar as his hips jerk slightly at the way you tighten around him. "Yeah, does that feel good? You want more? Want me to fuck you?"

You bury your face in the sheets. "H-Hurts. Please, stop, it hurts."

His cock twitches inside you, and you think you'll die. "I love it when you beg me to fuck you, sweetheart. You look so pathetic under me like this. Just see for yourself…"

He yanks your hair back again to make you look. He doesn't let you go either, his hand stays firmly in your hair as he holds you up to keep looking, to keep watching, to keep your eyes on your bodies as he slowly begins to fuck you. He gives you no preparation, he gives you no time to adjust. Once he's fully inside of your tight cunt and you've started tightening around the thickness he fills you with, he just starts rutting into you.

His hips snap into yours, dragging harshly inside of you as you scream and shout and squirm. He's tearing you apart, piece by piece. And he keeps fucking you as more and more slick begins to ease the cruelty.

You don't know how long you're there gripping the sheets and whining and clenching your eyes shut before the pain begins to twist and turn in your belly into an uncomfortable and unwelcome kind of pleasure.

And when Jonathan hears the telltale sign of your cries turning into moans, he completely loses his mind.

If he hadn't been fucking you hard before, he certainly is now. He wraps his arms around your body and pulls you to stand on your knees as he straightens your backs and begins to thrust up into you while he makes you watch. He spreads your legs wide and plays with your nipples, pulling your body down to meet each thrust of his hips as he completely wrecks you. All the sounds mixing in the air—the moans, the grunts, the slick skin, the heavy breathing, the sobbing—it's a filthy symphony of terror in your ears and beauty in his.

One of his hands, trying to find purchase on something, finds your hair and just starts petting you, carding his fingers through it and occasionally deciding to yank your head back in the process. "Listen to you," he huffs. "You're loving it. I can tell."

All you can do in response is cry and hope it doesn't come out as a moan (it does).

"Doesn't it feel so good? Feeling me touch you, feeling me hold you, feeling me fuck you hard and raw?"

His hand finds your clit and he starts rubbing it, his pace rough and fast and much too hard for you to think it would work. But it does, because you immediately shudder as he begins his brutal work. His finger flicks it so fast, your whole body is already shaking as he builds you up until you're crashing down.

"Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck," he groans as you flutter around him. You gasp, going blind as your orgasm crashes down on you like nothing you've ever felt. He grabs your throat and turns your head to face the mirror so you continue watching as he fucks you through it, both your mouths open and gasping for air as your pleasure consumes you, devours you, swallow you whole.

You won't say you did it on purpose. If you could go back and change it, you should…but you could not promise you would as you take hold of Jonathan's wrist and release his toxin in your own face once more.

You gasp and you roll your eyes back and you find your body numb for a moment as all the nightmares from before come back. Your little heart can't take it as the walls start literally jumping out at you like the corpses of a million souls long past. Bats and birds and bugs fly around the room. Hands are reaching up from the sheets in the bed and grasping your arms and legs and holding you down.

Jonathan's faltering thrusts remind you he's there as you find the mirror and his monstrous form watches you. He looks impressed, even through the hundred fangs and black eyes. "Poor girl's so fucked out, she wants more," he coos, his voice returning back to the demonic groaning you'd been met with when you first stumbled into your room to find him there. "Do you like it? Do you like my nightmare? Are you in love with the horrors in your mind?"

You've stopped crying. Your face is open and wide as you stare out, silent terror gluing your frantic gaze to the mirror. He groans at the sight of you, clamping his teeth down on your shoulder before pushing you forward to stand on your hands and knees as he takes your hips and starts slamming his own into you.

All you can do is moan as you watch him fuck you, taking you from behind with an animalistic kind of frenzy. Your mouth hangs open, you look drunk as he plows you from the back. You grip the sheets, but you watch as a pair of hands sprouting from the bed reach up and hold your own to keep you planted there.

A rough thrust drags through your pussy and makes you moan, a rough and deep thing that scratches your throat as you clench the hands. Your cunt tightens around him, sucking him into you with each shove of his cock inside of you.

"Fuck," he huffs. "This little cunt is so tight. You've been needing me, haven't you?" His hips snap harshly into you suddenly. "I'm gonna watch this over and over again."

You forgot about that, his confession to setting up cameras all over your house. You wonder briefly where the one in your room is stored, at which angle he's going to watch himself fuck you into the bed over and over again. You wonder how many times he's watched you touch yourself in this bed over and over again. Because he's been watching you.

You gasp and moan and shake and let him use you like a doll. You watch yourself in the mirror as your face melts off. You watch Jonathan as his long talons dig into your hips like blades. You hold onto the hands still gripping yours and hang your head as he fucks you. You groan, letting yourself feel the pleasure and hating yourself for it.

You're so conflicted. Your heart is pounding and your body is shaking and you feel like you're going to die, but the pleasure clinging to your body like blood to cotton is so mind-numbing that you've become one with the corpses in the walls.

"It's like this little cunt was made for me," he huffs. "I think I'll keep you. Your mind is broken enough." You whimper. "I'll have you thrown in Arkham with your father, and I'll fuck your brains out so you never get too lonely. How does that sound?"

When you don't reply, he pulls on your hair again and brings his lips to whisper beside your ear. "Do you want that? Hm?"

You make a ramble of incoherent sounds, murmuring something entirely unintelligible as you whimper and mewl.

"Yeah," he sighs. "I know… That would make your little heart soar, wouldn't it? You can tell me."

You give the same response.

He rewards you with a smile with a rough thrust that has the bats on the ceiling fluttering back down to you. They swarm your heart and Jonathan watches you look at every single one of them as they fly past.

"Fuck, I'm keeping you."

You're going to cum again, you can feel it. You're on the verge as his fast, rough thrusts drag inside of you with the squelching of your cunt. But it seems you're not the only one as you feel Jonathan's hands tighten around your hips as his pace stutters.

His grunts and groans are becoming more desperate, melting into moans as his plump lips hang open. He laughs at something, something jumping out at him in his own mind as you stare at the wall, each inch covered in butcher knives hanging on hooks. They glint and gleam in the moonlight and you can hear them rattling, ready to fly off the walls and impale themselves in you.

Your voice is small and pitchy and weak as you mumble. "B-Bu… Butch… B—ch… Ahh…"

"What?" he hums. "What's got you so distracted?"

You continue to stare at the wall, trying and failing to speak properly as blood seeps out of the metal and stains the hundred blades. "Bu…"

For once, you think he can see what you're seeing as he looks up at the wall you're staring at. His face lights up and he stares in awe, his lips parting as he does. "Your butcher." He whispers in your ear. "Isn't it beautiful?"

You continue to stare, even after Jonathan lets out a growl and pushes you forward again as he shoves your face into the covers. The hands let go of yours to grab your face, wrapping around your head and holding you down as a clammy palm covers your mouth. You stare at the knives, staining your floors with crimson red.

Your words and your whimpers are muffled by the hand as he thrusts harshly into you. Jonathan stares, wildly fascinated by the way your hallucinations control you on such a physical level. He can see that you're being muffled but he finds no hand. He can see that your body is being pinned down to the bed, but he sees no fingers wrapping around your arms and legs and keeping you there.

He takes hold of your hands, placing them over your head and holding them down as he fucks into you with a new angle. His cock fucks into your tight cunt in shorter, faster, rougher thrusts that has the birds swarming around you again.

You can't think straight, and you're sure your heart has stopped. You've been through so much in the past…you don't know how long. You came home to be poisoned by his fear toxin, assaulted by living nightmares, given half an antidote to the toxin, fucked by your stalker, poisoned again, and now you're still being fucked dumb with promises doing it again.

And you're going to cum. You hadn't realized he began rubbing your clit again, all the pleasure has run together into one big conglomeration of filthy ecstasy. His cock is pounding into a specific part of you that's making you sob again and you think for a moment you might be drooling, but you're too far away from your body to know for sure until he says: "Look at you, sweetheart. So fucking dumb, you're drooling all over the sheets. Am I making you feel that good?"

You mutter incoherently again, and he just laughs at you. The sound melts into a rough groan on a deep thrust. "Fuck, you keep sucking my cock in. I'm gonna cum in this perfect little cunt, and I'm going to keep you forever… I'm never fucking letting go of you, little Boucher."

Boucher. Boucher. Boucher. Boucher. You're surrounded by Boucher. The knives on the wall, the hands holding you down, this man abusing your cunt and calling you that cursed name. Driving you insane. Making you crazy. Just like him.

How easy it would be to lose yourself in it, in the insanity. How easy it would be to give in. To become Boucher… To succumb to the madness…

You squeeze him as he fucks you as hard as he can, and you feel his cock swell inside of you as he grinds his hips roughly into you.

"Oh, fuck!" he gasps, moaning as he snaps. His release hits him like a freight train, the world closing in on him as he loses all grip on reality and fucks his cum into you like a crazed beast. The feeling of it makes you gasp, the hot lava filling the pit of your belly and warming you up.

He keeps grinding into you as he flicks his wrist and rubs wildly at your clit. You burst. Your heart in your chest, your brain in your head, the knot in your belly—it all snaps at once and you cry out against the hand over your mouth. Your mind is gone and your body is shaking, accepting the madness and the pleasure and the filth and becoming one with it like you should have from the start.

The nightmares devour you, the horror sinks into your skin. You shake and cry and moan. He grabs you by the base of your skull, weaves his fingers through your hair, and pulls as he rides out the rest of his release and he swears he hears a muffled laugh bubble out of you from under your breath.

He watches as your body trembles, your moans continuing on even longer than he thought they would as the aftershocks of your release rise within you. You're still fluttering around him as you lie on the bed and mumble under your breath.

When Jonathan's pleasure has waned enough to think, he lets out a deep sigh and pulls out of you with a regretful one. You whine, laying there heavily. He scoops you up with his arms wrapped around your body and speaks into your ear.

"What's on your mind, Boucher?"

His breath is steady in your ear, providing a solid ground for you to stand on as he pulls you away from the hands reaching up to embrace you once more. You watch the knives shine on the wall and blink lazily at them as the smallest ghost of a smile graces your lips.

"Bou…" the word falls short, and he just watches in awe.

"What?" he whispers. "What is it?"

You grab one of his hands and pull it around your body, leaning into his.

"Beautiful."

~

Bright, sterile surfaces are all you see as you stare at the room around you. You lean your head against a white, padded wall as the jacket tying your arms to your body keeps you safe and warm. It's so monotonous, so quiet and droning as you glare at the blank walls around you with a frustrated sigh. It’s just all too mindless.

You tilt your head toward the door when you hear the locks click heavily. When Jonathan steps inside with a pleased grin and a briefcase held tight in one hand, you can't help the smile that begins to spread over your lips.

"Hello, Ms. Boucher," he greets you warmly. "Are you ready for our appointment?"

He opens his case, and his burlap mask falls out.

You look down at it, your expression almost giddy as your eyes—which have been open wide since the moment his fear toxins had first blessed your senses—gaze back at him. "Dr. Crane…" you lift your head. "I've been waiting."

Cillian Murphy taglist: @lyarr24​ @runnning-outof-time​ @goblinjnr @kmc1989 @shelbyism @weepingwitchofthewest @cl-0-vr @thoticious @sinarainbows Tag yourself here...

[aibloomie]

SWEET + RANDOM RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

ft :: xiao, diluc, yoimiya x gn!reader

wrote these like a year ago and I barely found them </3 also omg yoimiya I love her so much I need her to be my girlfriend

XIAO

━ he finds it cute when you're fascinated by random things. like the times where you're walking alongside him and find yourself distracted by a harmless insect you have never seen before. with a scoff, he'll step towards you, "that could be dangerous you know?" but once you have your back turned, his eyes will soften with adoration over the way you find beauty in everything. you're the reason he has began to appreciate the little things in his excruciating long life. plus, there's absolutely no way he'd let you touch anything if he knew it was dangerous in the first place.

━ adepti don't require any sleep, but if he isn't needed anywhere, xiao will lay beside you until you have fallen asleep. depending on how far you are in the relationship and the boundaries you have established, he might even hold you and soothe you to sleep. he doesn't want his lover to come home to an empty bed, much less have to wonder why they're all alone. and on the frequent nights when he can't be there, he'll check in on you every once in a while throughout the night, before vanishing once more to attend to his duties.

━ sometimes he comes back from his travels with gifts for you, he usually brings them when you're asleep so he can simply put them on a counter and spare himself from the embarrassment of ACTUALLY facing you and giving them to you directly. sometimes it's a pretty flower or sort of plant that reminded him of your beauty. other times it's a crystal or fruit that you recently mentioned.

DILUC

━ you could ask diluc to draw a straight line or to bring you a glass filled to the brink and he'd have no problem doing the task, his hands are steady. perhaps that's the main reason why you always feel so at ease when he gently holds your hips. diluc would feel prideful over how quickly you relax and feel safe with his touch.

━ it could be due to having a pyro vision, but his hands are always warm. do you have goosebumps from the sheer cold or maybe a chilly breeze that grazed your skin? you can always come to him, the feeling of his hands flush against your body will have you warming up in no time. you wouldn't even need gloves during the winter time, you can rely on him instead.

━ he doesn't mind if you accompany him to places he needs to go. in fact, he'll find himself smiling a little whenever he's working and lifts his gaze up, only to see you sitting on a bar stool near him. whenever there aren't any customers needing anything, he'll turn all his attention over to you. whenever he has to deal with the frustration of kaeya so smugly entering the tavern, he can just glance over at you and feel all of his anger subsiding.

YOIMIYA

— it's highly probable that she's the one who confessed to you! she's upfront about her feelings and doesn't like secrecy or the idea of being held back by being unable to communicate. her boldness overpowers everything even if she's really nervous, so if you're shy or struggle with speaking then don't worry! she'll be your voice

— she can literally talk about you for hours whenever your name is brought up. even if you are someone who wasn't initially well known, you'll gain a lot of popularity since yoimiya speaks highly of you and will declare her feelings for you to everyone she knows

— many of the kids in inazuma look up to her, so since you guys are together so often they'll begin seeing you as parental figures.

— it'll take a while for her to tell her dad that she's in a relationship with you since she wants to make sure he'll actually be able to hear, even if it means she has to yell a lot. however, she's so enthusiastic! she adores her dad and wants him to know <3

"hey dad! this is my—" she waved her arms around before cupping her hands together and putting them on the sides of her mouth to make her voice louder. "dad! dad!...dad! ugh...it's no use, maybe we can tell him another time yeah?"

— you'll be able to tell she has a lot on her mind whenever she's silent or when she gazes off into the sky. yoimiya will definitely make a firework that's exclusive to the two of you! if you're ever away on a journey then she'll light one up and smile upon reminiscing memories she cherishes with you.