#(i say this with an admirable amount of restraint)

[selfishdoll]

NOW PLAYING…. GIRLS DEM SUGAR

It's been awhile since I'm admiring yuh tenderness

PIERCING HCS w/ JJK MEN.

ft. kashimo hajime, gojo satoru, takuma ino, nanami kento, & choso.

cw. sexual/suggestive themes, ooc characters, piercings (?).

got this idea randomly. half of these piercings i want for myself. unedited, please excuse typos & grammar mistakes.

KASHIMO HAJIME. ★ back dermals

the day you brought up the piercing to him and showed him a picture, he was confused. he didn’t see the point, and thought it was a little odd just having two random pieces of metal on either side of your lower back.. but boy was he wrong.

the pretty silver of the piercing rested upon your soft mocha skin perfectly, filling those cute little venus dimples he just loved. his eyes were always on your ass in general, but these piercings just amplified it.

and don’t get him started on the back shots. you just look too good all arched, ass poked out with those shiny fucking piercings all in his face. he loves it.

oh.. you’re even prettier from behind, sweetheart.

kissing between the piercings at times, tugging down the waistband of your pants to see them, he’s obsessed and is a little irritated you didn’t get them earlier.

GOJO SATORU. ★ vertical clit hood

you’ve wanted the piercing for a while, long before you even started dating gojo— but never got around to it. however, one faithful day you decide to just say screw it, and get the piercing. your refrained from telling your lover since you wanted to surprise him.

as pretty as it was, you would definitely not get it again.

anyhow, you went home that day, all smiles though still a little sore. walking into your home, you spotted gojo seated, minding his business. you walked over, his eyes glancing up at you and your goofy smile.

one he mirrored. what’s got you so excited?

i have something to show you. you would reply, cheeks nearly hurting from how much you were smiling. gojo watched with interest as your placed your things down, settling on the ottoman infront of him and slowly, pulling your pants down. he sat up, now completely interested.

you hooked your fingers on your panties, slowly pulling them down and opening your legs. his eyes widened, leaning over and pressing a hand on your thigh.

is that real?

yep! you quickly swatted his hand before he could touch it, glaring at him as you quickly shut your legs. much to his dismay.

before you can touch me there, we have to wait eight weeks.

you nearly laughed at the distraught expression on his face, ignoring his soft buts and what ifs. most healed enough for sex around the fourth week, but given how rough satoru could be— you opted for eight.

which was hell for the white haired male. dramatically counting down the days, walking out when you changed, the whole nine yards. the amount of patience or rather restraint he had was amazing. especially since you hardly made it easier for him.

the moment the eight mark his hands and mouth are all over, caring less for the metallic taste when he’s eating you out.

and when he finally gets to fuck you? he tried to be gentle, really he did— but with him angling his hips right and your piercing is rubbing against him so nicely, well; that gentleness goes through the window.

So fucking pretty.. you should have gotten this sooner, [Name].

TAKUMA INO ★ tongue piercing

you talked to ino about your interest in piercings, specifically getting one in your tongue. the pain was the only thing holding you back to which the man assured you you’d be fine, you’re tough, you got this.

so he tagged to your appointment when it came up, holding your hand as you sat waiting for the piercer. it was kind of cute to him, watching your eyes dart back in forth anxiously.

relax [name], i’m sure it’ll be quick.

you would only suck in a small breath, forcing a smile at your lover before glancing over at the person piercing you.

like ino said it was quite quick, painful— but quick. after you were done, you took multiple looks in the mirror, flicking your tongue about in different angles to take in the piercing. you loved it, and ino.. realized he did too. far more then he should have.

throughout the healing period of four weeks his eyes would travel to your tongue piercing each time you spoke to him, a certain heat resting underneath his skin. his thoughts quickly delved from him simply liking the piercing to wanting it on him, around him, touching him. he just.. wondered how it felt.

you weren’t an idiot to his thoughts at all. purposely eating far too sensually then you should have, glancing up at him through your eyelashes with the sweetest, most innocent smile.

you finally decided to end his torture when the healing period was up, offering to complete his fantasies.

i bet you were wondering what it felt like this whole time..

what? no, no i wasn’t. ino tries to deny it, but the deep blush on his face and the way his legs were opening so naturally, well— you knew otherwise.

the moment your tongue was on him, his eyes were pinched close, large hands resting on your hand. the warmth of your tongue and the cold of your piercing was just enough, him coming in minutes.

i’m.. gonna get a piercing for you. is what he declared after such a mind blowing experience.

NANAMI KENTO ★ ashley piercing

any piercings or tattoos you had nanami wouldn’t mind, he would love them regardless. they’re a part of you and well, he loves every single part of you.

so when you wanted the ashley piercing he was all for it, declaring it’d look nice on your pretty lips. well, anything did anyway.

it didn’t take long to heal, nanami smiling at how you counted down each day, just waiting to kiss him.

and when the sixteenth day was up, your lips were planted against him. nanami of course returned your sweet kiss, though, it did feel quite different from before. similar to ino the silver barbell created a nice balance between warm and cold, brushing against his lips lightly.

it felt, nice. far nicer then he wanted to admit. but he didn’t have to, since the moment you pulled away the man is chasing after you, planting his lips firmly back onto you— as if angry you left in the first place.

and don’t get him started on your kiss down his body, it’s.. too much. his skin is growing hot the moment you kiss at his collarbone, smoldering when you reach his v-line.

nanami has to admit this is his favorite piercing yet.

KAMO CHOSO ★ nipple piercings

first & foremost, i think choso is a breasts kind of guy. likes the way they fill his hands, likes sucking on them, and likes laying on them. now with that outta of the way— when you told him ( and showed him ) you wanted nipple piercings, he was a little skeptical. one, the thought of you infront of someone bare like that made him a bit nervous and two, after researching he’s heard horror stories of such piercings. choso quickly became worried for you and while he refused to talk you out of it, he did ask if you were sure.

when you didn’t budge, choso supported you, deciding to be right there at the appointment to hold your hand. he didn’t worry about the piercer, nor you; he trusted you fully.

choso was a little discouraged when he realized he couldn’t suck or play with your breasts for a while, but knowing he could possibly hurt you made such dismay fade quickly. your comfort was more important than his fixation.

when you were finally comfortable enough, the man was continuing his usual antics; grabbing your breasts, sucking and playing with your nipples. the metallic taste took some getting used to, but that didn’t matter the moment he realized how sensitive you were now. how you twitched, gasped, and moaned but just a swipe of his tongue across your pretty nipples.

it excited choso greatly, now spending moments between sessions sucking at your breasts, being the only man to ever make you come from them alone. and having you ride him, face buried in your chest, sucking both at the same time? well, choso was in pure bliss.

so despite the waiting time taking much longer then choso would have wished, it was definitely worth it in the end

[merakiui]

I can't get Alien Jamil out of my head. He lives rent free now 😭

Alien Jamil who uses his ability to hypontise darling to spread their legs for them, maintaining eye contact to keep the spell. Darling being under his control as he filled darling up with eggs. Only looking away once he was done and Darling's stuffed to the brim <3

Then let's say Darling's a researcher for his species and is now being made to carry it for research purposes

(cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, breeding, oviposition, hypnosis, ntr/cucking)

:O !!!!!! Imagine being a researcher alongside Kalim... omg and Jamil watches day in and day out from his enclosure as Kalim attempts to get closer to you. Despite his outgoing and friendly personality, he's a little awkward with some of his flirting methods and so Jamil is able to pick up on Kalim's romantic interest in you fairly quickly. At first Jamil thought nothing would come of this, as you always seemed so absorbed in your research and you were always paying so much attention to him. Jamil is nice enough to act obedient and polite when you step into his enclosure to study him up close, feigning a harmless outward appearance. You're the only one who is allowed to do this; everyone else is frightened away or threatened with low hisses and sharp, piercing glares. Jamil has a soft spot for you, but he hides it with stoic indifference, choosing to look unbothered while you lean in close to admire his scales or the many snakes that make up his hair. You're so lucky he has an admirable amount of restraint, otherwise he would have plastered you to the ground and fucked you full of eggs months ago.

But it's when you actually start to entertain Kalim's interest that Jamil begins to worry. First the two of you would have dinner together (in front of Jamil, much to his annoyance) when you had to work late in the lab, and Kalim was just so irritatingly sweet to you. So genuinely himself. And you kept smiling and your body temperature was rising because you were flattered and happy and appreciative... Jamil refuses to lose you to that airheaded researcher. And then you'd work so closely together, side by side, shoulders nearly touching. Jamil is much too observant for his own good, which is both a blessing and a curse, because it only proves that you've warmed up to your fellow researcher.

It starts small. You can't understand Jamil unless he's hypnotized you, and then those fearsome hisses sound like the sweetest song, lulling you into a daze. For a while you seem more scattered than usual. There are gaps in your memory, and you're not sure why you always seem to come to in the lab. You could have sworn you were in your bed, sleeping so soundly until the whispers of something snake-like invaded your dreams... You're always led to Jamil. Maybe you really are so dedicated to your work that you're unconsciously drawn to it even when you're asleep. Kalim worries, insists you should rest more and that he can handle everything at the lab, but you don't want to push more work onto his plate. This is a team effort, after all.

It's like push and pull. Jamil holds you under for longer, slowly but surely snuffing your interest in Kalim, and releasing you from the spell of hypnosis before anyone can question it or grow suspicious. You're not going to love Kalim. You're going to love the specimen you look after. You're going to love Jamil. This is how it should have been, and this is how it will be.

Ultimately, it culminates in claiming. Jamil must stake it, must mold you to his form so that you'll only ever know him and no one else. The look in your eyes is empty and dazed, but you're smiling at him, entrapped in the coils of his tail, and it's a happy, drunken sort of smile. You're such a pretty human, so sweet for him when you open yourself without complaint or struggle, shedding that pesky clothing to reveal all of the curious parts to your anatomy he finds absolutely riveting. He fucks into your tight, slick warmth for hours, bodies pressed flush and never separating. Your moans fill the enclosure, adding to the sinful sounds of sex, and he falls for you all over again. You're truly so precious, so blissfully dumb and obedient when you're taking his cocks like the good researcher you are. Jamil can't resist; he has to fill you up, make this claim one you'll remember. And you can't object. You're not allowed to, not when he controls your every reaction. If he tells you to cum, you will. If he tells you to take just a few more eggs, you will.

And you'll like it because that's what you're told.

Only once you're filled to bursting, tummy packed full of his clutch, does Jamil gaze sidelong at Kalim, who looks on with concerned horror. Jamil tilts his head, acting as if he doesn't understand the smallest of human cues. He does, but Kalim doesn't need to know.

He smiles, his hold on you tightening ever so slightly. You're Jamil's now. Forever and always. As you were meant to be. And no one shall come between you.

[sky-is-the-limit]

P: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Reader

S: Moral of the story: Don't fall in love with someone else's wife.

CW:Public M!Masturbation and angst.

WC: 1574 words

Notes: I wanted to write something angsty and sad and then I ended up with Kyle touching himself, idk man.

Kyle had never known betrayal could taste so sweet and bitter all at once.

The sweat dripped down his face, mingling with the bloodied knuckles, drenching his shirtless body and trickling down his back to soak into the waistband of his shorts. A mess.

Most soldiers had retired to their rooms but Kyle stayed, punishing himself with every rep, every set, trying to drown out the thoughts that threatened to swallow him whole.

It was you. It was always you and he hated this, every fucking second of it.

You visited the base often, bringing a lightness that seemed to brighten even the darkest corners of his mind. He wasn't a poet, the furthest from it, really.

But if he had to describe it, he'd say that you had a way of laughing that made the world feel less.. dark.

The young Sergeant cherished those moments with you like the world's greatest treasure.

When you laughed at his awful jokes, your head would tilt back, your laughter ringing through the room to warm his heart to the fullest.

Sometimes, your hand would rest lightly on his shoulder, a touch so casual yet so intimate it made him ache with wanting more. It was the little things, like how you always made sure to save him a plate of the delicious food you brought for your husband, it made him feel special, important.

You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen but it wasn't just your looks. Not really.

It was your warmth, your humour, the genuine way you treated everyone around you. You had an aura that drew people in, a lightness that made the harsh realities of his world seem bearable, even only for a moment.

When you smiled at him, it felt like the sun breaking through a storm.

Every glance from you, every word you spoke, sent his heart spinning and his thoughts into chaos. He was completely absorbed by you, caught up in a love so intense that all his morals faded away.

But it was wrong. Horribly wrong.

Kyle dropped the weights with a heavy thud, leaning against the wall for a moment, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He closed his eyes, trying to banish the image of you from his mind but like always, it was useless.

You were imprinted there, like a brand on his soul. No amount of integrity or self-restraint could erase that.

Not even John Price himself.

How could he feel this way about you? How could he let himself fall in love with you? You were his Captain’s wife.

The more Kyle encountered you, the deeper his resentment towards John grew. He felt disgusted with himself, a traitor to the man he admired most.

Captain Price was his leader, his mentor, his brother in arms who had saved his life more times than he could count. He would follow him into the gates of hell without a second thought.

How could he betray him like that?

Yet, every time he saw you, it all crumbled down and he hated himself a little more.. He knew that he was the one at fault here, the one who felt like a parasite in a situation where he had no right to intrude.

Sinking onto the bench, Kyle’s shirtless body felt the harsh contrast between the cool, hard surface and the sweat soaking his skin. Leaning back, he tried to steady his breath but his mind kept drifting back to you. What a nasty habit.

The thought of you with his Captain tonight was almost too much for him to handle. He couldn’t help but imagine his hands on you, roaming with a possessive hunger as a woman like you deserved.

Was your dear husband touching you like he wished he could? Making you shiver and gasp under his touch?

He pictured the older man's lips on your neck, leaving hot, lingering kisses to the naked skin that he wished he could decorate with his marks instead.

Were you moaning, arching your back in response, your breath hitching as he explored you slowly? Was Price’s breath hot against your ear, whispering things that made you ache and beg for more?

As the images played out in his mind, Kyle gripped his thigh tightly, trying to keep himself in check but his breath came in uneven, heated grunts.

Blood rushed down between his legs and he could feel himself hardening with every passing second.

Despite the shame and guilt gnawing at him, in that moment, he was overwhelmed by the raw, unabashed need to have you. Some part of him felt like he deserved it.

At that moment, he didn't care about how wrong it was or the betrayal. Alone in his loneliness, with only your thoughts to keep him company, he let himself indulge in the ghost of you.

''If I could show you… fuck-'' He murmured, his voice raw and thick.

His trembling hand slid down to his inner thigh, lifting the hem of his shorts just enough to feel the heated skin beneath and allowed his thoughts to run wild, vividly painting scenes of you with every touch.

It wasn't hard to do nowadays. A few months ago the shame would make him stop. Now, it was as easy as loving you. Picturing the sensation of your nails digging into his back, the intense pleasure of each slow and powerful thrust inside you..

Oh, the things he wanted to do to you.

In his mind, every movement had you arching beneath him, your moans growing louder and more urgent. He could almost hear your voice, feel your warmth, taste your wetness and sense the way you'd cling to him, your hands sliding over his sweat-slicked skin.

It didn't take long for Kyle to trail his hand up to his waistband, clearly impatient and unable to hold back any longer.

He knew what he was doing was disgraceful, humiliating. Someone could walk in at any moment but he didn't care. Clearly, the urgent neediness inside him drowned out any sense of caution or shame.

With his free hand, he fumbled for his phone and unlocked it with shaky fingers. It took only a moment to find the saved photograph of you, one he had stalked from your Facebook profile.

''My beautiful girl.'' The words barely escaped his lips as his gaze lingered on your image, eyes tracing the lines of your smile and the warmth in your eyes.

The Sergeant's breaths grew shallow and uneven, struggling to distinguish whether the wetness against his skin was from sweat or the precum leaking from his cock.

Spreading his legs wider on the bench, he moved his hand embarrassingly desperate, dragging his thumb in slow, circular motions over the slick head before tracing the large vein above it.

Each movement smeared the precum down the length of him, the smooth glide fueling his madness whilst he coated himself top to bottom, imagining your neck, your breasts, your legs. Every detail of you driving him to a level of insanity he could not come back from. Not that he wanted to.

Fuck Price, fuck this job, fuck this unfair reality.

''Mine, mine, mine-'' Kyle mumbled to himself, his voice strained and barely cohesive as he stroked himself faster, his hand moving in a frantic rhythm.

Slick with precum, his hand moved greedily, covering every inch as he imagined the way you would writhe and pant to his mercy. It was as if he could almost hear you crying out his name, your moans filling the space around him.

As he gripped himself tightly, he instinctively began bucking his hips upward into his fist, fucking himself faster and the bench scraped loudly against the floor with every thrust, the sound echoing through the empty gym.

Kyle's mind burned with the image of your mouth wrapped around him, the warmth and tightness enveloping his cock. He imagined the slick slide of him past your tongue, hitting the back of your throat, with saliva dripping down your chin and spilling onto your bare breasts, which jiggled with each bob of your head.

What a breathtaking view.

In fantasy he had you gripping his hips tightly, pulling him deeper, while your tear-filled eyes begged from the relentless thrusts. He envisioned his hand fisting your hair, forcing you to take him more and more, feeling you choke and gasp around him. Only him.

Lost in ecstasy, Kyle didn’t even notice his phone slipping from his hand and hitting the ground beside the closed door.

As he neared climax, his grip on his cock tightened, his strokes growing erratic and intense. With his free hand, he gripped the edge of the bench for support, knuckles threatening to break skin from the strain.

''Fuck-'' Was all that was muttered cohesively under his breath, desperately trying to suppress his sighs and moans.

The sudden knock on the door shattered his focus and froze him into place, every muscle in his body tensing as the harsh reality hit him like a sledgehammer.

Regret crashed over him, his heart pounding violently in his chest and his breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps from both what he was just doing and the embarrassment that followed.

What the hell was he thinking? He had always prided himself on being rational and composed, but here he was, exposed in the most humiliating way.

The seconds felt like hours as he fought to pull his hand from his shorts, panic clawing at him. How could he have been so reckless?

Just as he began to grasp the full impact of his actions, the voice from the other side of the door pierced through his horror like a badly written, cruel, joke:

''Kyle?''

Out of everyone who could have walked in on the most mortifying moment of his life, it was you, the very person he had been fantasizing about just moments ago and the evidence was still there, his hand covered in his slick, stuck where it was, too late to pull back or move before the door swung open.

''Are you in there? I brought freshly baked-'' The sentence trailed off abruptly as you appeared in the doorway, your eyes widening in shock as you took in the scene before you.

[hansensgirl]

summary. | Lloyd Hansen uses a different method of torture on you.

prompts. | Lloyd Hansen + Mob/Mafia + “You have no idea what you do to a man like me.” + Overstimulation, requested by @alternativegirl23.

pairing. | dark!Lloyd Hansen x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, smut, overstimulation, use of vibrators, pet names, dirty talk, mob/mafia stuff, dacryphilia, mild Daddy kink, obsession, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics

You have nowhere to go, nowhere to run to. Not with these restraints, not with Lloyd in front of you, smug as ever.

“Shit, that cunt is so messy,” he growls, pulling away the vibrating wand from your clit. You bask in the small amount of reprieve he gives you despite the other toy that rests inside your weeping hole. It’s a dildo that also vibrates, hitting your sweet spot exactly.  

“You have no idea what you do to a man like me, sugar cakes,” Lloyd says, referring to his position in the mafia. Though he is not the leader, he certainly is a right-hand man—the most trusted and feared. “I just love seeing you like this.”

You babble like a baby, the pleasure nearly becoming painful, and Lloyd hasn’t even fucked you with his cock yet. It’s hard to breathe, yet you keep going because you can’t give up—not to him, at least.

The bedsheets underneath you are completely soaked, and your slick drips down to your ass. You’re sure it wouldn’t take much for Lloyd to just slide right into your tighter hole. That sick fuck probably already thought of that.

Red rope keeps your wrists connected and your legs spread wide apart. You’re sure it isn’t the kind used for Lloyd’s interrogations, but you won’t show him any gratitude for being considerate. 

“Pl– Please, stop. I’ll do anything, please,” you pant, sweaty and near-delirious. Lloyd chuckles and shrugs his jacket off, using the wand to lightly slap your clit. You yelp, and your muscles spasm, already coming again. “I know you will, princess. Whether you want to or not,” he says, and he turns the vibrator back on.

You cry out loudly, trying to writhe away, but your attempts are unsuccessful. “Please, Lloyd, I’m begging you,” you whimper as he presses the bulbous head to your nub. The vibrations make your jaw drop in a silent scream, back arching as Lloyd basically bullies your clit.

“And it’s music to my ears, sunshine, but I’m still having so much fun with you like this,” he hums, but much to your relief, he pulls the dildo out of you. Lloyd turns it off and tosses it to the side, but he admires how it glistens in your creaminess first. “Shit, you got a real sweet honeypot, dontcha?” he comments, moving the wand in small circles.

You involuntarily nod your head and Lloyd snickers. You barely get the chance to relish in the build-up and release of your orgasms, each one blurring into the other. All you feel is euphoria, the kind you’ve never been able to handle until now.

Tears streak down your face from the overstimulation. It’s too much, but you know Lloyd doesn’t care. 

“Fuck, if you’re gonna cry, you better be doin’ that on my cock,” your tormentor grumbles, and suddenly, he turns the wand off. You sigh in relief and try to catch your breath, slumping against the pillows that hold you up. Your body goes slack, and you immediately thank him until you hear him undoing his fly.

You crane your neck to look at the source of the sound and find that Lloyd is stroking his hard, large cock. You gulp thickly and hope that he’s only going to jerk off, but you know better.

He slaps the tip of his cock on your clit, and you jolt from the sensation. “C’mon, baby. It’s time for Daddy to get a feel of this snatch.” 

[harocat]

I have so many feelings about the way these two episodes outlined Tushan Jing’s strength of character by the way.

Xiyan Grandpa explaining the sheer amount of strength and will it takes to be kind, to choose goodness over and over. Saying that this is admirable! It’s a CHOICE to be kind. And it is also a choice, a difficult one, to show restraint. I love seeing characters take bloody revenge as well, but it’s not always the best fit for a character.

Cang Xuan trying to say that Tushan Jing choosing kindness will get him killed in the end, but… he’s wrong.

Because Cang Xuan forgets that Tushan Jing is also smart. He let Tushan Hou live, but only after making it impossible for him to strike back; by declawing and defanging him. Even then, when TSJ and Xiaoyao go to check on little Tian, they take major precautions.

And the only reason this didn’t work was because someone even more powerful than the Tushan family got involved; Cang Xuan himself. And that’s someone who would have found a way to get rid of TSJ whether he’d chosen to kill Tushan Hou and FFYY or not.

Kindness didn’t kill Tushan Jing; in fact it gave him his greatest happiness. There is value in a soft heart.

[jubiilee13]

JOSH HUTCHERSON. I do badly wanna make a request for Josh from the forger but I must show restraint

Anyways Mike asking you to officially be his gf?

JOSH HUTCHERSON JOSH HUTCHERSON AOQWEIIOWEIOOIAWEFIOFWAEWGAGEHRGAHREW

my husband

anyways here u go pooksters

warnings: female pronouns, fluff, reader has a nightmare, smooching just a lil

I didn’t check spelling on this so if it’s horrible I’m so sorry 😭

--

mikes job was not an easy one.

neither was managing a younger sister.

but thats where you came in.

you and mike had known one another since high school, though you two hadn’t been the closest pair at the time. gentle smiles in the halls and small hellos were about all that went on in your mind.

but not for sweet old mike.

he adored you, every second he got to be in your presence was like heaven.

looking back on it he wasn't sure how you hadn't noticed his longing stares, the blush coating his cheeks, the way he fumbled over his words.

he was in love with you, that was clear to everyone but you.

so when the end of high school rolled around, the two of you fell out of touch.

he was sad, yes, but he had abby to worry about, and some cute girl couldn't get in his way.

so for the next few years nothing happened between the two of you, and he just assumed you had moved away to some far away place. eventually the amount thoughts of you in his mind began to dwindle down, until you only crossed his mind at most 2 times a year.

that was until a few months ago that is...

long story short mike had posted a few flyers about needing a baby sitter for abby, and low and behold someone sent him a message and sweetly said they'd love to meet up with him over coffee to discuss more details.

so thats exactly what happened, mike put on his most formal clothes (which wasnt really much) and began his journey to the coffee shop. He anxiously wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, silently cursing himself for his nervous habits. before he knew it the coffee shop was just ahead, and as he stepped inside it was like his heart stopped beating.

it was you.

He tried to hide his smile but you could read that man like an open book.

The two of you talked for several hours, about the job, about life, about everything.

you could've kept going even, if it werent for mike having to pick up abby from school.

so you bid your farewells and mike informed you that you could start watching abby the following day.

as mike worked each night, you stayed with abby, doing everything with her, and she loved it.

every day she would gush to mike about you, talking about the adventures and fun times the two of you had shared.

mike listened every time as well, and every time he did so he couldnt help but note how his feelings for you began to return.

after all, you were so sweet, so gentle, so... loving.

how could he help it?

every morning after his shift he would come home to find leftovers on the counter, alongside a small handwritten note from you, each time saying something ever so sweet.

on top of that he would also find you dozing on the couch, and every time he saw you sleeping so peacefully he would just admire you for a few moments, always opting to cover you with his jacket or a blanket before he sent himself off to bed as well.

so that brings us to tonight.

mike walks through the door with a yawn, rubbing his eyes sleepily as he places his vest on the coat rack, dragging himself into the kitchen as he picks up your sweet note.

"abby insisted on pizza and spaghetti tonight so take your pick sugar, i hope work was well, i hope you dont mind but i forgot a change of clothes tonight and abby grabbed a pair of your boxers and an old sweatshirt of yours, i just threw it on for tonight, i promise ill get it back to you clean asap! lots of love, - y/n" the note read.

mike cant help but chuckle at your rambling, and he picks up the plate full of pizza and he reaches out to open the microwave but stops in his tracks when he hears something.

something so faint he wasnt even sure he had really heard it.

then it happened again, louder now and mikes blood ran cold.

it was you, your cries.

mike rushes into the living room, and his body visibly relaxes when he finds you still deep in slumber on the couch.

a small frown falls on his face when he notices you squirming, a distressed look across your sleeping features as a few frantic words escape your mouth in slumber.

"no! mike- mike please- dont- i need you mike please" you murmured, so softly that mike was sure he was hallucinating.

still he approached your sleeping figure, his rough hands gently making their way to your shoulders.

“hey hey hey” he whispered as he gently shook you, concern in his eyes.

yet you didn’t budge, body trembling beneath him as small whines escape you, even some small tears slipping past your closed eyes.

he shook you harder now, and he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when you shoot upright, but his relief quickly fades as a quiet sob escapes your lips.

your teary e/c eyes scan over him, almost checking to see if it’s really him.

once your brain finally decides to accept the fact that he’s really in front of you, you fling yourself towards him, more sobs escaping your lips “oh mikey” you cry out.

mike immediately wraps his arms around your torso, one hand moving up to comb through your hair.

“woah woah woah I’m right here pretty girl, I’m here, I’m here” he coos into your ear, holding your trembling frame.

the two of you stayed like that until your sobs turned into small sniffles, your head resting on his shoulder as you took in his scent.

“m’sorry…” you mumble into the crook of his neck

“it’s ok don’t apologise silly, do you wanna talk about it?” he quietly asks you, and you nod.

“I- you died mikey… in my dream… you- you were gone! I- I was so scared… I can’t lose you” you say between hiccups, and he hopes you can’t tell how your words make his heart race.

“im not leaving anytime soon pretty girl, can i tell you a secret y/n?” he asks as he brushes a hair behind your ear.

he chuckles when you nod and cuddle further into him, his face flushing ever so slightly, not that you could notice in the dim light of the room anyways.

“ive been in love with you since freshman year” he murmurs, and with those words your body grows stiff and you sight upright.

“y-you have?” your shaky voice asks

he nods, his orbs locking onto your own, and he goes to speak, his nerves getting the best of him, but before he can you cut him off.

with a kiss.

you had kissed mike.

mike just kissed the love of his life.

the kiss was sweet, gentle, and it seemingly lasted forever.

the two of you eventually pulled away for air, chests heaving as you both gasp gently for air.

you both go to speak at the same time

“I love you so much-“

“I’m so in love with you”

you both gasp at the others words, and you can’t help but giggle.

“so does this mean..?” you question, as you absentmindedly cuddle closer into him

“mean what? that you’re my girlfriend?” he asks gently

“if you want me to be” you say with a smile, awaiting his next words

“well how can I say no to a smile like that?”

—

this is prob really bad I haven’t written in forever but I’m lowkey kinda proud of it for rn, I hope you enjoy!

[laenordeservedbetter]

the demon i cling to

Words: 8.1k

Pairing: Samantha Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: You couldn’t escape madness no matter how hard you try, but maybe there’s a way where you don’t have to lose your mind alone.

Warnings: (18+) violence, murder, blood, gore, mentions of substance abuse, cussing (+ reader is morally grey!! she's complicated and unhinged.) lmk if I missed any.

A/N: I finally wrote something after three months and it's 8k words of word vomit, making this my longest fic ever. Again, it's been three months of not writing, so please be nice.

not my gif. || masterlist || previous work

-

[September 2005]

There can only be a certain amount of restraint one can have before they snap.

You discovered that at a young age. You can’t put the entirety of the blame on growing up in Woodsboro, but it is most likely one of several reasons. The murders have been looming over the town since you’ve been born. Woodsboro, the city where Billy Loomis and Stu Macher went bonkers (that’s a kinder way to put it). Even though there hasn’t been another set of killings since that year in this town, there’s still a good amount of trepidation whenever it gets brought up.

According to your parents, Billy and Stu were like all the other normal kids.

Until they weren’t.

“It’s not something you should worry about, Y/n.” Your mother told you during the thousandth time you brought it up. When you try to say something in protest, she’d shut you down. You were a weird kid, your teachers say so. Attentive, sure, but maybe a little too much.

It wasn’t until the Jenny Willoughby incident that your parents started to suspect that everyone was right about you.

You were in a playground with the kids from your class as an activity to get to know each other. It was pointless, you thought. Everyone already knew each other from the previous years. There are already friend groups and bestfriends. And why did you have to be outside anyway? The classroom has enough space.

You kicked the rocks in front of you to see how far they can go, quite enjoying yourself before one of the rocks hit Jenny’s scrawny leg.

“Ow! Mrs. Bishop, she hit me! Y/n hit me!” She wailed, clutching her foot. Jenny looked like a kangaroo hopping around with one leg while the other was injured. You found it quite funny and laughed without a care in the world, which your teacher didn’t appreciate.

Mrs. Bishop looked at you through her glasses, “Why did you do that, Y/n?” She asked, frowning.

You liked Mrs. Bishop. She was nice. She always gave you extra time to nap and she was patient with you unlike the other teachers. So, seeing her look disappointed made you feel ashamed of yourself. You had let her down. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Bishop.” You mumbled.

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to.” Mrs. Bishop told you, nodding her head in Jenny’s direction.

“I know.” You pursed your lips, taking the courage to walk up to Jenny and apologize. Bowing your head, you say, “I’m sorry for hurting you, Jenny. I swear I didn’t mean to. I didn’t see you, so I-”

“It’s okay. I forgive you.” Suddenly, she sounded cheerful.

What?

You never understood how people can go from sad to happy in a matter of seconds. Analyzing Jenny’s face, you saw that her smile didn’t reach her ears. She is giving you the same smile she gave Samantha Carpenter when the girl accidentally took her bag that had the same color as hers. That smile sets an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach. Something is wrong, you know it, but you say nothing else except “Thank you. Again, I’m really sorry.”

And there was that.

You went back to your original position. Instead of kicking the rocks, you opted for counting the flowers in the bushes.

“Children, please behave yourselves! I’m going back inside the school for a few minutes because I need to use the restroom!” Announced Mrs. Bishop.

Too busy admiring the flowers, you failed to comprehend Jenny settling beside you with her group of friends. “Look at her. She’s such a freak. All alone with no friends. No wonder why she hurt me. She just wants something interesting to happen in her life.” Jenny sneered, acting like you weren’t next to her.

Kris, her equally evil twin, chuckled, “It runs in the family. Her parents are freaks too.”

At that, you recoiled. “Leave me alone, Jenny. I already said I’m sorry. Don’t bring my family into this.”

“Or else what? You’re gonna hurt me with a rock again?” Jenny taunted, showing off the gap in her two front teeth. She took a step closer to you while you stayed put. “Oh, I’m real scared of you, alright. Oh, no, she’s gonna murder me! Help!” She mocked, placing the palm of her hand against her forehead as if to show distress.

Shut up.

“Don’t be silly, Jen. She doesn’t have the guts to do it.”

“You’re right. She doesn’t. That doesn’t make her any less of a freak, though.”

Shut up.

“Speak, you freak!” Jenny shoved your shoulder as hard as she could, sending you tumbling backwards. Her figure stood over you, satisfied by the results of her actions. Bullies like Jenny thrive off of fear. They want to make you feel small so that they can feel better about themselves. Be the bigger person, adults say. Don’t give in.

“Go away.” You mutter, clenching your fists tightly as your palms begin to sweat.

“Why should I? Bullies need to be taught a lesson. Isn’t that right, girls?”

Shut up.

Shut up.

You close your eyes.

Shut up.

Shut up.

Shut up.

“Father said her family is full of losers. She’s one of them.”

SHUT UP.

SHUT UP.

“He’s right, you know.”

Your sprung to your feet, your fist colliding with Jenny’s face. Her sister and friends let out a scream of terror as you hit her. Over and over and over again. “SHUT UP!” Punch. “SHUT UP!” Punch. “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” She wouldn’t stop talking (the excuse you would give later on). I just wanted her to be quiet. Your knuckles were starting to turn red, you notice, and your entire fist was coated with blood that wasn’t yours. That’s what urged you on. The satisfying sound as your hand collided with Jenny’s face.

“Y/N!”

You were about to land another blow when four strong hands pulled you back.

You don’t remember what happens next.

-

“SHE BEAT SOMEONE UP!”

“She’s just a kid! Kids make mistakes!”

”THAT WASN’T A MISTAKE. THAT WAS ASSAULT!”

Your parents were in the room next to yours, arguing about what happened. Jenny was sent to the hospital. Fortunately, there wasn’t any permanent damage. Jenny’s parents wanted you expelled, but your father made a bargain to the principal. What kind of bargain, you know not. Just that your mother appeared to be bothered by it.

Eventually, the shouting became unbearable. A part of you felt guilty - not for hurting Jenny but for being the reason your parents are fighting in the first place. You twisted the rusty door handle of your room (your parents should really have it replaced), double checking to see if they heard anything. When the yelling didn’t cease, you took it as a sign that you were free to go.

It’s not the first time you snuck out. The first time you discovered that it was possible was when your parents grounded you because your grades were lower than the year before. They instructed you to stay inside the house. As the curious child you were, you made a careful analysis of every room. That’s how you found out that the backdoor had a faulty handle.

Putting one foot in front of the other, you let your feet lead you to the park a few blocks from your home. You weren’t worried about anybody bothering your moment of solitude. Most of the children have been told by their parents to steer clear from children like you - whatever that means.

Being feared has its perks sometimes.

When you finally arrived at your destination, you were baffled to see Samantha Carpenter on the swing alone. Her long dark hair cascaded down her shoulders in waves, paired with her blue jumper and white shirt. She spotted you approaching and waved, a small smile spreading across her face.

You raised an eyebrow, glancing back behind you, searching for someone else she could be directing the wave to. As you realized there was no one, you were disinclined to wave back. But you did so anyways.

Sam, no longer seated on the swing, came up to you, “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Heard you kicked Jenny Willoughby’s butt.”

Your lips pursed into a thin line, “That’s none of your business.”

She raised her hands up in surrender, “Hey, I was going to say that it was pretty cool. It’s about time she learned her lesson.” Sam smiled without a care in the world - like what you did was no big deal.

You nod, your mouth unable to release a response to her statement.

Sam caught how tense your shoulders were and seemed to remember one important detail. “Oh. Sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Sam-”

“Samantha Carpenter. I know.” You shrugged, “You’re pretty hard to ignore.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“It can be.”

“Thanks… Anyway, you can call me Sam for short. All my friends call me Sam. My parents, too. Except when they’re mad at me.” Sam rambled, waving her arms as she spoke each sentence. Then, she took your hand in hers, leading you to the swing that she previously occupied.

You shove your hands into your jean pockets, unsure of what to do.

Sam seems to think two steps ahead based on the way she guided you to sit down. “I’ll push you now. Just lightly. I don’t want to hurt you. Is that okay?”

“I- yeah. Sure.”

True to her word, Sam began to push your body so the swing can move. Each time you go forward and back again, Sam makes sure to place a hand on your back to support you and to literally push you in the right direction. Although you weren’t sure what made Sam Carpenter act like you knew each other your whole life, you felt at ease being the kid that you currently are. Laughing in glee with Sam felt right. When she talks to you, you don’t feel the apprehension that others usually have. You decided right then and there that you were going to be her best friend.

-

[June 2010]

Sam slumped down beside you, back leaning against the tree you were resting on. Her eyes were red. There were bags under them. It didn’t take you long to realize that she’d been crying.

“Holy shit, what happened to you?! Are you okay?” You hastily take off your headphones, hands planting themselves on Sam’s forearms. Sam hasn’t been seen around town for two weeks. You tried calling. You even went to her house, but got no response except for when Christina told you that they were dealing with family matters and that it isn’t a good time to visit. Now, seeing her like this made you curse yourself for not trying harder to be there for her.

“My dad left.” She said, defeated. “He left because of me. It’s all my fault.” Sam sobbed as you took her in your arms. It was something akin to a chant. Something you knew she made herself believe.

It breaks your heart every time you see her like this. Even if it wasn’t often that the Sam Carpenter broke down in front of you, it doesn’t take away the hurt that it causes you everytime she does. You’re not mad at Sam. You can never be. You’re mad at the world. However, you can’t do anything about it except be there for her when she needs you the most. This is definitely one of those times.

So, you hold her; conveying using your actions that you will always be here for her to lean on when nothing or no one else could. You let her cry in your arms for as long as she needs since that’s what you do for the people you love and because she told you that your arms are the only place she feels safe in. And lastly, you tell her that it’s not her fault. You don’t do it because she wants to hear it. You do it because she needs it. “Sam, it’s not your fault. You hear me? It’s not your fault.”

Sam shakes her head indignantly. “It is. It is m-my fault. Billy Loomis is my father.”

Your blood runs cold at the mention of him. “What?”

“I was looking at my mom’s old diaries to see what kind of cute memories she had with my dad. Then I found out he wasn’t actually my dad at all and that my mom was seeing some other guy, Billy Loomis. He got her pregnant and told dad that it was his . . . When I confronted her about it, screaming, I… didn’t realize that dad was right behind me all along. He didn’t know. That’s why he left. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. I… Mom is blaming me. So do I.

“There’s more. See, ever since I found out, I’ve been having these visions of Billy, my biological father. He says things and I can’t… I don’t know how to deal with it.” Sam finishes, turning away so as to not meet your eyes, afraid that there might be abhorrence occupying the space in them. The whole world could judge her and she wouldn’t bat an eye. Her only concern is you being a part of that as well. She fears that one day you’ll realize that she’s no longer worth the effort. She can’t lose you too.

The air lingered with words that are yet to be said, but both of you knew that now was not the time nor place.

“What kind of things does he say, Sam?” You ask gently, rubbing circles on her back to soothe her. By now, your white shirt was soaked in Sam’s tears, though you could care less. Sam is more important than a shirt that you could change out of anytime you want.

There’s a long pause before Sam gives a response to your question. “If I tell you, will you run away?”

“Sam, even if you killed someone, I won’t run away. I’ll even help you bury the body. And even then, I’m staying.” You say, instantly regretting your words once Sam visibly flinches. “Shit. Sorry. Bad take. Anyway, my point is, I’ll always be here for you. No matter what. Nothing you say or do will change that.”

Sam looks up at you, then. There’s something that shines in her eyes that you can’t decipher. Trust? Hope, maybe? “He tells me to just go out there and cut some throats.”

“Do you want to?” You ask, not out of judgment, but out of pure curiosity.

“No. God, no.” Sam shakes her head in the negative, face twisting at the thought of herself sending her peers to their graves. “I’m just scared.”

“Of what, exactly?”

“Scared that I’ll end up just like him. I’m scared that one day I’ll snap and I can’t go back.”

You hum, processing the information Sam just gave you.

“Y/n, say something.”

“You want to hear what I think?” You pull Sam away from you gingerly. For a second, fear flashes in her eyes, but it disappears as quickly as it came when you interlock your hand with hers. When you receive the green light from Sam, you look at her and say, “You’re not your father. I know that what you found out scares you, but Sam, I’ve known you for half my life. I know that you don’t want to hurt people unless they hurt the ones you love first. That’s one of the things I- that’s one of the things that makes you different. You have a heart. So, keep it. Fight for yourself and fight as hard as you can so that you don’t become the person you don’t want to be. Also remember that I’ll be here for you every step of the way to support you.”

Sam wipes away the tears from her eyes, chuckling lightheartedly, “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“Oh, I know, alright.” Your mouth opens in mock offense when Sam punches your shoulder. “That hurt!”

“Sorry.” Something in the way she says it tells you she’s not, showing from how her mood switches once more. “What if I can’t fight anymore? What if I go crazy? Will you still be by my side?”

You don’t hesitate to answer. “I always will, Carpenter. You’ll have to literally kill me to pull me away from you. It’s you and me till the end of time. We’ll go crazy together, I promise.”

Sam leans her head on your shoulder, letting out a breath, “Crazy together. Somehow, that’s oddly comforting.”

-

[October 2014]

The call comes at around 3 am, precisely 10 minutes after you had fallen asleep. You had been up all night studying for an upcoming exam that in all likelihood would determine whether you have a shot at getting out of Woodsboro. Sam would have told you that it was too early, that you at least have one more year to figure things out. That is, if she bothered to be around. The older Carpenter sibling has been pushing you away lately, much to your annoyance. You can’t help someone if they don’t want to be around you. Nevertheless, that doesn’t dissuade you from coming to her rescue every time she gets herself into trouble.

You rub the sleep from your eyes, reaching for your phone from the wooden nightstand. This scene felt rehearsed. That’s understandable, no doubt, if you take in the events like this that took place too many times for you to count. You can recall each time, each cop that called, the reasons for Sam being in jail again without missing a detail. If you try hard enough, you can even name all officers on duty during the ungodly hours of the morning. That’s a clue to how often Sam got sent to the precinct.

You press the green button, accepting the call without looking at the Caller ID. “Hi, Deputy Hicks.” Clearing your throat, you sit up, turning the lamp on.

You hear Judy sigh on the other end of the line.

“Hey, Y/n. It’s about Sam.”

“Always is.” You mumble, already on your way to the front door. Since you fell asleep still wearing your jeans, you only had to put on a sweater before going out. Your parents were still asleep and if they heard you steal the keys to the car and start the engine, they don’t make it known. A part of you had a suspicion that they knew what you do every other night, but they couldn’t be more indifferent. As long as you kept your grades up and maintained your family’s reputation, they will allow you to do whatever you please. It was both a blessing and a curse. “What is she in for this time?”

“She got high and drove while intoxicated, almost running a boy over. Before she could try to escape, the boy’s mother saw her and called the cops.”

You went quiet, having nothing more to say. This was one of the stupidest things that Sam has ever done. You would rather have her defacing school property while under the influence than being so close to putting other’s lives in danger, including her own.

“Does the mother want to press charges?”

“Lucky for Sam, no. They don’t.”

“Okay, thank you, Deputy. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Arriving at the precinct in record time, you parked your car to the side and turned off the engine. The officer at the desk barely acknowledged your presence, used to your face showing up. One of these days, you may start joking that the police station has become your second home with the way Sam has been acting.

Deputy Hicks looked up from her paperwork when she saw you, “She’s over there.” She tilts her head to the side in lieu of hello.

You ignore the sympathetic glance she gives, “Thank you, Deputy.”

Sam sits in a chair in the corner of the room, looking up at the ceiling, hands folded above her lap. She’s still affected by the drugs. It’s as plain as her mud-covered shirt. She sees you and beams, “Y/n! You came.”

You try to ignore the fluttering feeling in your stomach when she directs her gaze towards you. You’ve had a crush on Sam for a while now, though, you don’t plan on doing anything about it, fearing that it might compromise your friendship. It’s not a right time for feelings either. The two of you will be off to college in less than two years and as your mother put it, it’s best to not be in a relationship when your future is on the line.

Wait, why are you entertaining the idea of possibly being in a relationship with Sam when it’s very clear that she doesn’t like you back?

“Y/n?” Sam waves her hand in front of your face, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Sam’s in the precinct, you remind yourself, you’re mad. This is not healthy anymore.

“Just get up, Samantha.” You say coolly, urging Sam to go ahead of you.

“Jeez, you look pissed.”

“That’s because I am.”

Sam rolls her eyes, “Okay, sorry.”

You’re starting to not believe the words that come out of her mouth. Even if Sam is sorry, she’s not exactly trying to get better.

Deputy Hicks grabs your arm at the same time you were about to head out with Sam. “Y/n, wait, I need to talk to you.” She sees you look towards Sam and adds, “Alone, please.”

“Go wait in the car.” You stare at Sam directly but you don’t look at her. Her breath hitches and you have to ignore how your heart clenches at the sight of her being crestfallen.

Sam holds her hand out. You gave her a questioning look. “Keys?”

You weigh out your options. On one hand, Sam is still experiencing the effects of the drug she took. On the other, you knew she wouldn’t put her life in danger - okay, well, that’s debatable. Sam is… Sam. She’s not completely irresponsible. You trust her. “Don’t do anything stupid.” You toss the keys, watching as she catches them effortlessly.

Sam lets out a sigh of relief upon seeing that your trust isn’t completely lost. “Got it.”

The moment Sam is out of sight, Deputy Hicks releases the grip she had on your arm, eyes softening after taking in your appearance. You don’t squirm under her gaze, having learned from experience that you don’t look so great when you don’t fix your hair before going out. “Look,” She starts, “You’re a good kid. You get good grades, you stay out of trouble, and I know you care about Sam, but-”

“With all due respect, Deputy, I think you should stop before you say what I think you’re thinking.” Your mood shifts, gaze hardening. When other people think of Sam as nothing more than a delinquent, they tend to make judgments based on what they see. They don’t think about what is really going on. They don’t know her. Deputy Hicks doesn’t like Sam. You know that much. But you’re not gonna let her talk shit about your best friend when she isn’t even aware of the full story.

Deputy Hicks doesn’t heed your advice. She goes on. “She’s trouble, that’s what I’m getting at. You have a bright future ahead of you, Y/n. Don’t let her ruin it.”

“She’s not ruining anything.” You argue.

“I know that you missed a test last week because you had to bail her out. It’s why - and I’m only assuming this - you stayed up all night studying for said test because the school gave you a second chance. I know that you will probably spend the rest of your morning taking care of Sam. You’ll go over to her house, take care of her and her sister Tara because their mother is barely around. I get it, trust me. However, I know how this goes. Trust me when I say that you’re better off without her.”

You don’t think too hard about what the deputy just said. “I know myself better than you know me. I’m not going to stay away from her because you said so. You’re not my mother.”

Deputy Hicks runs a hand across her face, knowing that she wasn’t going to get through to you. “Maybe not. But I am a mother. I know I wouldn’t let my kid go around like this.”

“Goodbye, Deputy.” You dismiss, turning to walk out the door with nothing more to say. Deep down, you knew she was right. You didn’t want to acknowledge it, though.

“If you find out who gave her the drugs, will you give us a call?” The deputy asks, changing the subject.

Your body goes stiff when the feeling of rage wakes the part in you that you so carefully hid from the world. It’s here again, stronger than ever. The blood in your body is boiling with anger, that urge to hurt someone in order to make it all quiet. You haven’t felt like this in a while.

Breathe.

In.

Out.

“Will do.” You plaster a fake smile. Needing to get out of this place as soon as you can, you sprint towards your car, opening the door, forgetting that Sam is inside. Ragged breaths come out of your body, throat clenching due to the never-ending thoughts swirling in your fucked up brain.

“Y/n?”

“SHIT!” You get startled by Sam’s voice.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m okay.” She reassures, right hand resting on your shoulder. “Look at me.” When you don’t do what she says, Sam takes on a firmer tone. “Y/n, look at me. Listen to my voice.”

Her voice is soothing to your ears, driving away that anger; a remedy to whatever is happening inside your head. “Sam,” Your voice breaks when you say her name. “You can’t keep doing this. You have to talk to me instead of getting your hands on every stupid drug that ever existed. If you don’t want to explain it to me, then at least talk to someone. Please, Sam. You have to help yourself. There’s only so much I can manage and… I don’t want to do something I can’t take back.” Murder. The thing that’s left unsaid. You don’t want to have to murder the people causing this, but if it will help Sam, then…

Fuck. No.

You’ve thought about it for sure. You just never got to a point where you are actually considering doing the act.

Sam’s brows furrow, “You’re scared of saying shit to me? Is that what you mean? You don’t have to clean up my messes all the damn time. I’m not making you do this.”

“Sam, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I meant that I don’t want to be the person who tells Tara her sister is gone because she did something she shouldn’t have,” You lie. If you can’t make her understand things in your perspective, maybe bringing up Tara will make a difference. “Tara will be heartbroken, Sam. She doesn’t want to lose you too.”

That part is true. You spoke to Tara a few nights back when you saw her curled up on the living room couch, waiting for Sam to come home. After you guided Sam to her bedroom, you went downstairs to check on Tara, asking her what she was doing up. She told you everything she knew and felt, including how worried she was about Sam. It is not something a ten-year-old should have to feel, but then again, she can’t know why this is happening. She’s too young to understand.

Sam glances down, looking remorseful. What you said made her partially aware of how this was also affecting Tara. “I’m sorry.”

“Do better. That’s all I’m asking you. Promise me you’ll try.”

“I am trying. You have to know. I am doing better.”

“And what happened today was, what, a mistake? You say the same speech whenever you get caught. I’ll believe you when I see that you’ve actually been trying, because this? This is not what trying looks like.” The way you speak sounds harsher than intended. You should really listen to what your guidance councilor says. Bottling up your feelings will only make things worse. Word by word exits your mouth like a flood that you feel powerless against. Tears stream down Sam’s face as soon as her brain echoes what you were saying.

You were never this upset at her. Hearing you like this guided her in realizing how royally she fucked things up.

“I’m sorry.”

You can’t fight your own tears anymore. The two of you cry in front of each other, aware that although you were physically near, you could not be more far apart. You cry until there are no tears left, cry until your throat is aching and your heart feels like it has been sliced a thousand times by tiny daggers, leaving wounds that would take a long time to heal.

But it feels like a step in the right direction. Somehow, you knew you both were going to be okay.

You held that thought until Sam explained what went down last night.

“I swear I was going to get clean. But then, he approached me, said that he needed money. He didn’t look well, so I took the drugs. He said I didn’t have to take them - that I can throw them away and that he’ll pay me back as soon as he can, but I wanted it. The drugs. They were right in front of me. So, I told myself that it was going to be the last time. I was only fooling myself.” Sam said. “That’s not going to happen again. I’ll get help. For real this time. I promise.”

You stare at the roof of the car, closing your eyes in order to think clearly. “Sam,” You say nonchalantly compared to the tone you used earlier. “Give me a name.”

Sam’s eyes widen, “What?”

“Give me the name of the guy who gave you the drugs.”

She chuckles awkwardly, “Why does it matter? What are you going to do to him?”

“Nothing! I don’t kill people. You know that! I just want to turn him in, is all.” You were stunned by how convincing you sounded.

Sam seemed to believe you. Her shoulders relaxed a bit, the tension in them gone, “Jacob Parker.” She pauses, “Don’t let the cops be too harsh on him. He’s only trying to help his family.”

You purse your lips, “You know I can’t promise anything, Sam.” Sam appears despondent but she doesn’t speak another word. “So… Jacob Parker.” You repeat, testing how the name sounded coming from your mouth. “Thank you.”

Your smile is alarming. “You look psychotic.” Sam says plainly, shaking her head. “Stop that. It’s creepy.”

You put your hands up in surrender, “My apologies.”

“Get us home already.”

You don’t make a move to start driving, deciding to talk to Sam longer. “We’re not done with this conversation yet.”

“I know.”

“We still have a lot to work on.”

“I know.”

“But you’re going to be okay.”

“We’re going to be okay.” Sam corrects. “You and me against the world, right?”

“Damn right.”

You let silence go by on the way to the Carpenters’ residence. The air is lighter now, relieved of the tension that was around before your conversation with Sam. You were pleased by the outcome of this day, no matter how early it still is.

-

You shouldn’t.

You really shouldn’t.

If someone had told you two years ago that you’d be outside Jacob Parker’s house wearing a Ghostface costume, you would have shit your pants while laughing maniacally, but you’re here, doing exactly that.

It’s 4 am, which means that the sun will come up soon, giving you an hour to get the job done or else it will all be fucked and you’d have gone through trouble for nothing.

The house itself was pretty neat. It had a white picket fence and a yard three times bigger than your room. Sam was wrong. Jacob has it good. That motherfucker lied to her. You can’t blame Sam for having a kind heart. She got taken advantage of. That’s not on her. It’s on the guy who saw her vulnerability and turned it into a business opportunity.

Your disdain takes over whatever ounce of hesitation left within you. You have to do this. You have to protect Sam. You’re doing this for her. This is the only way you can protect her.

Plucking out a burner phone from your pocket, you dial Jacob’s number, the one you asked Sam for prior to leaving her house. You turn on your voice changer and press the call button, waiting for Jacob to pick up his phone.

It took three rings, but eventually, the boy answered, a bit disoriented, “Hello?”

“Hello, Jacob.”

You can hear Jacob shuffling around, dazed. “Who is this?”

“Let’s play a game, shall we? I give you ten seconds to hide and if I find you, I’ll gut you like a fish.” You say cheerily, moving towards the house. The back door is the most favorable option, seeing that it wasn’t locked. Idiot, you thought. There’s no car parked in the garage or in front of the house, which implies that his parents aren’t home. Is it this easy?

“Look, I don’t know who you are or why you’re having the Ghostface voice, but that’s not how they usually speak in the movies. They don’t play hide and seek.”

You’re positive he can see you smiling through your words even if you’re not in front of him, “Ah. A fan of slashers, I see . . . What’s your favorite scary movie, Jacob?”

“There. Now you got it.”

His breathing is too relaxed, indicating that he’s not moving, possibly not counting you as a threat. You slide open the door as quietly as you can, ambling through the stairway leading up to the second floor. Jacob’s room is very hard to miss. There’s a big sign on the wooden door that spells out his name in bold, cursive letters. Your eyes scan through details of this place, looking for one you can use to scare him.

A picture frame on the counter with him and a little boy. He has a brother. You remember, overhearing a gossip from school that his brother was sick. There’s a rumor that went around about how that is the reason why he’s selling drugs. His family is loaded, so it can’t be about money. It’s about finding a distraction.

You read the writing on top of the frame.

“Jacob and Barry”

That’s the same moment you notice another door next to Jacob’s room.

Bartholomew.

You walk over there first, peeking inside the room. On a bed lays Barry, wires hooked into his body, a machine next to him, displaying his heartbeat. You almost feel bad about what you’re going to do.

Almost.

“Give me an answer or else I’ll cut Barry’s head off! You wouldn’t mind if a few years gets removed from his lifespan, right? After all, he’s already sick. Might as well stop his suffering.”

“NO!” You hear hurried footsteps coming from the other room, no doubt that it’s Jacob on his way to save his little brother from his own end, not knowing that it secured his. “Don’t touch him, I swear to God! You better not! I’ll do anything, please!”

“I’ll ask again. What is your favorite scary movie?”

“STAB 5! THERE! I SAID IT! NOW LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

As soon as he steps out of the room, you shove him against the wall and plunge your knife into his stomach, twisting it until the blood begins to pour out. You use your free hand to cover his mouth, muffling his screams. “Stab 5 was the worst movie of the entire franchise! It’s no one’s favorite!” You pull out your knife for a moment before driving it into his shoulder.

You glance at the blood on your hands in awe. It was a dream come true. You could not apprehend how so much blood can reside in one body, taking your time in watching Jacob bleed out in front of you, the voice in your head quiet at long last. The rapture followed. He can’t hurt Sam anymore. “This is what losers such as yourself get.” You state, withdrawing your hand from his mouth.

Jacob’s eyes are silently pleading. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but Barry is innocent. Don’t hurt him. You owe me that. He’s my family.”

“I don’t owe you shit!” You laugh incredulously, “No one owes you anything! I don’t give a shit about your family. You messed with mine first.”

“W-what?”

You don’t give him a response, perforating his heart with your blade.

His head lolls to the side, staring at nothing in particular.

That’s one less person who can hurt Sam.

The thrill of the kill sticks with you long after you went home to clean yourself up, ensuring that you left no trace behind. You got rid of the body, of course, so the police doesn’t suspect that another psychopathic Ghostface is on the lose.

You’d do anything to protect Sam.

It’s all for her.

Unbeknownst to you, Sam saw the full extent of what you were capable of doing - adding another name to her list of fucked up connections.

-

[May 2015]

“It’s not gonna work, Sam.” The ghost or hallucination (depending on who you’re asking) of Billy Loomis states, standing behind Sam, their eyes locking in the bathroom mirror. He has a calm exterior, as if he knows what’s about to happen to Sam before the latter can begin to think. “You can’t avoid her forever. She killed someone. Acknowledge it.”

Sam opens a bottle, taking out an antipsychotic pill, shoving it into her mouth without hesitation. “I have acknowledged it. She killed the guy who gave me drugs.”

Billy shoots her a no-nonsense stare, “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Okay, then speak to me since you’re such a know-it-all.” Sam clenches her fists, “You’re not even real.”

“Aren’t I?” Billy challenges. “Wanna hear the truth, Samantha? Here it is: the murder is not what bothers you. What bothers you is the fact that it doesn’t. You would care if it was an innocent person, but Jacob wasn’t an innocent. He manipulated you, knowing damn well you have a problem. You feel relief that he’s dead, but you’re guilty because you think that his blood is on your hands, thinking that you’re the reason Y/n did what she did. You don’t want to destroy her.”

Sam’s throat clenches, knowing Billy was right. However, that doesn’t mean she’s happy about it. “Shut up.”

“You’re the one who wanted the truth. I’m giving it to you.” Just when Sam thinks he’s done talking, he goes on, similar to a man on a rampage (which he has really done before he died). “You did not corrupt her. It is not your fault. That girl you’re in love with - oh, don’t give me that look - has had a darkness inside her that existed before you came into her life. The same darkness that you and I have; the only difference being that she’s not doing it out of revenge like I did. She does it for you, which makes it difficult for you to understand your feelings because you believe that if you accept her for who she is, you will go crazy. That maybe she’ll convince you to kill for her or something. She won’t. You know that. You are just afraid.

“Crazy runs in our blood. One day you are gonna stop fighting and accept who you are. The only choice that is presented to you right now is you either accept her for who she is or push her away.”

“You say that as if murder is something simple.” Sam scoffs.

“You will forever have an argument against the things I say because I’m a murderer. That’s who I am to you. But what do you truly believe, Sam?”

Sam (surprisingly) simply shrugs defeatedly, “I don’t know.”

“Well, figure it out. Must I remind you that she’s leaving. Today.”

At the mention of your departure, Sam shows her father an emotion other than ire. “That’s today?” She blinks and sees that Billy was no longer there. Quickly, she checks her phone and see what the date says. “Fuck.” She grumbles, rushing out the house like lightning.

-

You look out your window for the umpteenth time, hoping that somehow, she will show up. The last time you spoke was three weeks ago. It’s like she’s purposely pulling away from you and you have no idea why. Though Sam was true to her word and stopped getting herself into trouble, she decided to talk to everyone but you. You gave her space while you thought about what you could have done wrong. When you bumped into her at school (which was unexpected since she has been doing a good job at using alternative routes to her classes just to avoid you), you told her you were leaving.

You got accepted at NYU and were leaving earlier than expected. New York is about as far from Woodsboro as you can get. You can’t wait to leave this place yet there is someone you don’t want to leave behind. You don’t want to leave Sam, but you know that eventually, everyone leaves. You would only be putting off the inevitable.

As for the Jacob situation, the cops never found out who did it. They assumed he ran away (you grabbed a suitcase with you that belonged to him and put clothes and essentials into it). That was all. Cased closed. Simple as that.

You don’t feel an ounce of remorse. Even so, from time to time, you get nightmares. You don’t remember much from them. The only things you know is that you wake up sweating, your heart racing, and tears stream down your face at the same time a name makes its way out your mouth, sounding like a prayer. Sam.

“She’s not coming.” Your mother says sympathetically.

You forgot she was standing near the doorway, watching you pack your things. “She will.” You’re sure. Sam was many things, but time showed that even if she was upset at you, she would still show up for the events that matter. And this, moving to New York, was a big change. She wouldn’t dare miss it. “I know she will.” You say, determined.

“Okay.” Your mother nods. She opens her mouth to speak, but Sam appears by the doorway, sweat dripping from her forehead, both hands on her knees as she caught her breath. “I stand corrected.” M/n grins, “Sam.”

“Good morning, Mrs. L/n.” Sam breathes out, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I’ll leave you two alone for a moment.” M/n lightly shoves Sam inside the room so that she can close the door.

“Did you run here?” You asked, amused. Walking over to your nightstand, you grabbed an unopened water bottle and handed it to Sam, who downed the drink in one gulp.

“Sure did.” Sam wipes her sweat with the back of her hand. She sits next to you on the bed, shuffling her fingers, something you knew she does whenever she gets anxious. “I’m sorry for avoiding you these last few months…” It’s because I followed you to Jacob’s house without you knowing and I saw you kill him for me.

One look at her and you knew she knew. The one thing you’re good at other than stabbing is reading Samantha Carpenter. You’ve spent so much time memorizing her that you knew immediately. You don’t know what to say except “It’s not your fault, Sam. Please know that. It was my choice. You didn’t force me to do it.”

“Why did you?” Sam asks, unsurprised by how quickly you caught on. She didn’t make a move to step away from you because she wasn’t afraid. She never was. That never changed.

“You probably don’t understand, but there’s this… thing that has always been a part of me. I could control it most times but when I can’t, I hurt people. There’s so much noise going on in my head. The two things that can pull me out of that is by inflicting pain onto others or just being in your presence. I know it’s fucked up. I would much rather choose the latter every time, but I can’t. When Deputy Hicks asked me to give her a call if I found out who sold you the drugs, that anger came back. Maybe it never left. I don’t know. I did what I did because I thought that if he’s not there anymore, nothing can hurt you again. It’s stupid. I know. I’m sorry.”

Sam does the last thing you expected her to do. She kisses you, her hands going to the sides of your face, cupping them gently, afraid that you would break.

You freeze, unable to form a response.

What the fuck?

Sam kissed you.

You grin from ear to ear, surprised by the action, but not deeming it unwelcome.

Sam pulls away, mortified, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I thought you-”

You cut her off, “Shut up and kiss me again.”

She wastes no time in closing the gap, reconnecting your lips once more. Your hands went to her waist, needing her to be as close to you as possible. This time, you kiss her back passionately. You’ve had many roles in your life, but nothing felt as right as being the one to kiss Sam Carpenter. You were made for her.

Sooner than what you wanted, Sam pulled away. You open your mouth to protest but she presses a finger to your lips. “If we don’t stop kissing, we’ll run out of air.”

You scrunch your nose, “I don’t know, Carpenter. Dying in your arms doesn’t sound too bad.”

Sam shakes her head fondly, “God, you’re such a dork.”

“You like me, though, right?” You asked jokingly even though deep down, you were quite unsure.

“Yes, of course I like you.”

“I like you too.” You say immediately, satisfied with the answer.

After a while of kissing and… more kissing, you lay beside each other, doing nothing in particular except staring at the ceiling. You break the silence. “So what now?”

Sam ponders the question, “Now… You go to New York.”

You roll over to the side, propped up on one elbow, using your free hand to brush hair away from her face. “What about us?”

“We’ll see each other again.” She asserts, placing a kiss on top of your head.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I do understand. More than anyone.”

She rolls you over on your back in a mission to kiss you for as long as time allows it. Caught up in the moment, you fail to question what her words meant. Your mind fills with thoughts that consist of how perfect this moment feels. There was noise, yes, but they lie in the form of the most beauteous poems. Samantha Carpenter gives you clarity yet she is capable of bringing you down to ruins. The best part is that you’d let her. You would authorize her to bring out a sentence; to amplify the light inside of you or to let the madness consume you both. Regardless of the outcome, you would not mourn the debris that would rain down upon you. For the sweetest poison is in the form of her lips.

-

[August 2022]

You were scanning mountains of paperwork when your phone buzzes. Although normally, you would let it ring until whoever is calling realizes that you are occupied, the name that flashes on the screen makes you think twice. Pressing the green button to accept the call, you bring the phone to your ear, anticipation bubbling inside your veins.

The voice that comes from the device is not the one you were hoping to hear. It sounds eerie, sending a chill up your spine.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

[The End.]

-

Taglist: @daddy-jareau

[chaifootsteps]

The entirety of this following ramble is me bringing to attention a very specific moment in the history of Viv's interactions with her fan base and how that interaction itself reflected on her as an early but easily ignored warning sign of her tendencies and lack of self-restraint online to come. I have only ever seen one anon vaguely reference this incident in passing on your page some months ago, so I think that providing a more detailed account of the incident may actually be a really important look at Viv’s personality in the past that not enough people are aware of. Almost everyone and their dog knows about the "My name is Caine, I am your Bitch" incident from last year because the internet quickly saw, in mass, the way Viv composes herself online regarding opinionated content about her and her creative works. This reveal was important because thousands of people learned through more than a few twitter posts that Viv is not good at, ironically enough, "taking a joke". However, over a year prior to the MNIC drama was the drama around the delay announcement in June 2022 for episode 8 of season 1 of Helluva Boss: Within a day of the announcement, a relatively small youtuber made a live stream talking about their disappointment with the delay announcement, explaining that this delay announcement revealed that they had been waiting for months on an episode that wasn’t even directly relevant to the plot developments from the previous episode 7, and that Spindlehorse had not been providing a reasonable amount of previous communication with the fandom about the state of episode 8 when considering how Helluva Boss was a nearly entirely fan funded web series. 

And then Viv herself showed up in the youtuber's live stream chat.

I don't know if some fans informed Viv of the stream or if she found out about it herself, but what matters is that she started basically arguing with the youtuber via the chat about why the Spindlehorse team couldn't disclose the reason for the delay and that the youtuber wasn't giving the creative team enough credit for their attempts to prevent having to delay the episode’s release, along with stating how the creative team were themselves upset by the complications of the delay. When the youtuber stood firm on their disappointment with the lack of communication and how the fans can't be expected to know the details surrounding a situation they aren't told about, Viv basically admitted defeat and left the stream chat, her last comment being "Sorry for saying anything".

The next day, the youtuber made a follow up video summarizing the delay update, their feelings on it, Viv's comments from the stream, and a final remark towards the Spindlehorse creative team about the communication the youtuber felt Spindlehorse owed their audience. Within a few weeks, the youtuber had to delete the summary video due to the extreme amount of backlash and dogpiling they got by Helluverse fans for their opinions and how they stood firm towards Viv's comments. I know my description of the event has been fairly vague, but part of that is specifically because there is very little information available that this all even transpired because of how quickly the degree of harassment led to videos being deleted. I won't say the name of the youtuber for the sake of their anonymity, but they were decently known in the earlier days of the fandom because of the lore and theory videos they specifically made about the show, a show they had great admiration for. However, I still think it's important you know more specifically that this happened and why it matters since many people come to you asking about the complex timeline of Viv's behavior. Well, in June 2022, one incident in that timeline that barely any Helluverse fan knows about was that one time when Viv went onto the live stream of a small-scale but dedicated fan of her show, argued with the fan on their stream where everyone in the stream audience watching would be witness, criticized the fan for their behavior and how they spoke out on a literal lack of information in front of that entire stream audience, and then played the pity card as she signed off. If I had to explain what the point of all of this was, it's that I just wish this fandom (antis and stans included) knew more about that incident several months before the MNIC incident when Viv, who had significant influence over her fanbase of millions at that time, caused so much distress towards a small scale fan of her own shows for committing the apparent sin of stating their own opinion. Viv has refused to "not get involved" in online conversations both big and small for YEARS proceeding the MNIC shenanigans, and in this case in June 2022, that included her self-serving, ego-protecting involvement causing significant distress for what had previously been an extremely loyal fan of Viv's own work who was simply stating an opinion to whatever other fans wanted to hear it.

For anyone who's curious, there are actually screenshots of this happening.

[tozettastone]

Please ignore this if you feel uncomfortable, but what is sex with kakuzu like? You don’t need to get into the physicality of it, but I’m curious to hear your thoughts

Hahaha. Why not? Okay. I'm afraid this isn't a particularly sexy post, though.

Psychologically, Kakuzu isn't the kind of avoidant control freak who secretly longs to surrender control. He wants to be in charge. Everything else is much more negotiable.

To that end, he likes being a tentacle monster very much. He comes with built in restraints! Sweet.

He's big, he's stubborn, and he's only ever interested in someone who's willing to let him boss them around. He does not switch.

He's not excited by violence. He's not turned off by violence. It's just a neutral skill he happens to be very good at, and in his regular life he is the proverbial man with a hammer to whom all obstacles appear as nails. So the sex doesn't HAVE to be particularly violent or rough, but it often is, because the kind of person who decides they want to hook up with Kakuzu is usually into that. He is pretty indifferent to this, as long as he is perfectly in control at all times.

Significant emotional involvement in sex is a huge problem for Kakuzu. Being more than an occasional hookup to Kakuzu is a dangerous occupation because it puts you in danger of appearing as the aforementioned proverbial obstacle and ending up in pieces. It's fine to get on with and even to like or admire his sex partners, but if he starts feeling obligated or responsible he is pretty likely to freak out.

About actual specific sex acts he's mostly pretty agnostic. He will do whatever weird tentacle thing to his partner they're embarrassed to ask about, as long as they ask nicely and it doesn't make him feel like he's out of control of the situation.

He is never shy about telling someone "no" LOL. I suspect sixty or seventy years ago he might have been more easily swayed by pressure or politeness. But now he's not. There will be other hookups. If he doesn't want it, he'll say so.

He has absolutely had sex for money, but he's a pretty niche temptation for monsterfucker weirdos only, so it's not a sustainable revenue stream.

And some more general stuff about Kakuzu's attitude to sex and sexuality:

The impression I get is that the setting was probably more sexist when he was growing up and learning about this stuff for himself. It would not surprise me if he had weird personal hangups about masculinity and experiencing penetration. There's probably some amount of weird cognitive dissonance there about his expectations for other men, though.

He might have been raised at a time/place at which minority sexualities were illegal. I don't imagine this would bother him much, since murder was probably also illegal. But it's something to think about.

He's seen a lot. A lot. In his life as a ninja he's crashed in on a lot of people in a lot of vulnerable situations specifically to kill them. He's been witness to a wide array of legal and illegal sex acts, various networks, cruising spots, parties, etc., through the course of his work. It's very hard to surprise him with a new fetish or kink. Most of the time, he kinda just sees the top twenty hits on repeat.

In his mind, taboo kinks and minority sexualities are very useful for mission- and bounty-related blackmail. Young people (everyone under 65) are so easily embarrassed.

[hearted-anon]

Favouritism isn't appreciated..

Words: 1.2k Notes: Ahh my first fic.. T/w : Rough tickles, being pinned (no restraints though!), Felix is upset, platonic relationships, we'll see bin in another life.. Lee: Changbin Ler(s): Hyunjin, Felix

Felix loved Changbin. To say love was probably an understatement, he was head over heels for the older. The brownie boy would go to any length to admire the rapper in his work, be it own a body pillow with Changbin's face on it, massaging his muscles to no end, confessing his love proudly or even outright speak that the dwaekki was his ideal type in men, Felix had an arrow practically through his heart at the sight of the man.

How unfortunate it was then, for Hyunjin's presence. Despite Felix loving Changbin to no end, he didn't stand a chance against the prince, whom practically won Changbin over by doing nothing. Of course Lix wouldn't mind, he loved all his members, but an overriding wave of jealousy overtook him whenever Changbin ignored the brownie boy's love for Hyunjin's miniscule amount of love that the dwaekki would drool over.

That's how he found himself sulking in the corner of his room, gaming his worries away to drown out his jealousy that chained his once angelic heart to the floor. It didn't help that he lost, only further tugging him into a pit of darkness by the tendrils of envy and being just in a terrible mood in general. To his utter dismay, or happiness, the artist that he was so envious of trekked into the room at that exact moment, wearing a concerned frown for the younger.

"What's wrong, Angel?" Hyunjin sighed, only further frowning when the brownie boy pouted at his presence.

"It's just...why does Bin-hyung love you more than me?" Felix furrowed his eyebrows at the thought, placing his headset down gently despite his feelings being the want of just throwing them out. But they were expensive; He couldn't do that.

"He doesn't though? He loves you just as much.."

"He fawns over you everyday but never does that to me!"

"C'mon now yongbok, don't be so grumpy over this.."

"B-But.."

"How about we teach Changbin-hyung the consequences over favouritism?"

And that was settled. Felix's pout turned into that sunshine smile once more, wide enough to split open the earth and melt anyone's heart who looked at it, including Hyunjin. The artist couldn't help but smile softly back at the cheered up Aussie, the feeling of wanting to cuddle him to death was almost unbearable, almost.

They both hunted down the oldest, who as usually, had made another home in the gym. Changbin stared in confusion when the duo walked over, sitting up from his push up position to pay more attention to his favourite sunshines. Oh poor Bin, if only he knew what they were playing. Felix resisted the urge to gawk at those muscles coated in sweat, he could feel his pre-debut self begging for escape at the sight, brought back to reality when Changbin let out a scream as Hyunjin tackled the older.

"W-What are you doing-?! Hwang Hyunjin!" The dwaekki yelled out when his arms were pulled up with ease and sat on by the artist, how lucky the duo was to catch their prey right it's workout, already worn out and perfect for their plan. Felix crawled over with an innocent smile, poking once at the perfect tummy he loved so much, earning a soft squeal.

"Do you know the consequences of favouritism, Seo Changbin? You've been avoiding me these past few days for Hyunjin, do you know how much that broke my heart?" Felix whispered, he felt his own heart weigh heavily at the words he tried to conceal as a joke. Changbin's face dropped to a frown and a look of concern, he would've coddled the boy in affection by now if his arms weren't held up by a certain ferret.

"I'm sorry Yongbok, I-I can make it up to you-" Changbin couldn't finish his sentence before Felix dug his fingers right into the centre of Bin's armpits, kneading the flesh akin to a massage. The dwaekki shrieked before dissolving into the cackles, still trying to apologise in the process, it melted the duo's hearts to see how guilty the rapper really was.

"Nah ah...don't be sorry, just take the punishment. Apologise again and you'll see..." Hyunjin whispered tauntingly, earning a nod of agreement from the sunshine like Changbin could reply under the cackles.

"LIX! P-PLEHEHEASE! I CAHAHANT TAKE IT! I'M SO SOHOHORY!" Changbin squealed and stamped his feet onto the soft tiles of the gym floor, the massage on his bare armpits exposed so nicely from the tank top he thought would ventilate out his muscles driving him crazy.

The duo only tsked in disapproval of the apology, the artist lifting up the rapper's shirt for a moment, exposing that cute tummy Felix adored so much to Changbin's dismay. But nothing happened, not to his tummy.

Changbin only realised how cruel the ferret could be when he felt fingers kneading and drilling at his hips instead, his entire bare torso left alone. It was all a ploy, to trick the dwaekki into thinking his stomach was next just to move to another terrible spot. Binnie threw his head back onto his own arms with another loud shriek, hysterically begging for mercy under his duo's favourite that wrecked him to pieces.

"Jinnie-hyung, do you think he's happier with us or one of us?" Felix asked the artist seemingly innocently, as if they weren't having the oldest cackling under their fingers for mercy.

"Hmm...I'm not sure, Bin-hyung, why not you answer?" Hyunjin giggled in response, switching to kneading right into the dips of the rapper's hips, driving him absolutely ballistic if Felix's massaging in his armpits weren't enough.

"BOHOHOTH! I LOHOVE BOTH OF YOHOHOU!" Changbin screamed out, tears of mirth starting to cloud his vision from the two pairs of hands wrecking him to pieces. He thought maybe that was the right answer, if only he knew how cruel sunshine's could be when they burned.

He was met with a buzzing sensation of a raspberry onto the top of his navel, then another on his neck. He presumed it was Hyunjin at his neck, and Felix at his tummy but he couldn't take it, he couldn't think straight. One last shriek and out his voice went, silently suffering under their lips and fingers that knew exactly how to get him to scream for mercy. Although the dwaekki's hands did slip from Hyunjin's grasp, they couldn't do anything, too weak for it anyway. Tears slipped down his red face to the collar of his shirt, shaking and trembling for mercy.

The duo eventually let up, Hyunjin getting off Bin's arms to rub soothingly at his torso, relishing in the hiccups and leftover giggles the oldest let out from the intense punishment. Felix on the other hand just took advantage of the tiredness, snuggling up in Changbin's chest promptly and properly massaging his shoulders. Changbin couldn't move sandwiched between Hyunlix, left to the giggling aftermath of the punishment he was sure he didn't deserve.

Maybe he did, as barely a minute into the cuddle he found himself smiling into Hyunjin's neck, earning a grunt from Felix which made him squeak and flush red from the memories of being punished beforehand. Felix chuckled and so did the artist in return, and soon enough the three fell asleep soundly on the gym floor, the softness of each other's chest being enough to soothe them, be it unhappy jealousy or aching guilt.

Changbin was definitely more cautious of his affection showing now, especially with a brownie boy hunting him down like a hawk who knew the benefits to being the rapper's favourite...

[sp-by-april]

Switch! Kyle and/or another stendy thing

Kyle loves praising you btw and whimpers 👌

We're doing Kyle first! Yes, there is a cut after the first sentence cause we are jumping right in!! lol

Switch!Kyle x F!Reader

[Send me a prompt for a kinky mini shot!] [Kyle Broflovski Master List]

I stood in front of the bed and admired my work.

Kyle laid there naked, his impressive cock sky-high, his arms and legs tied to the bedposts.

God, he was kind of beautiful. His cheeks were all pinked up, and his curly hair was a mess from where I grabbed a fistful earlier. His cock glistened as it throbbed helplessly and I fought the overwhelming urge to put my tongue on him.

He had me on my hands and knees first. I was eagerly taking orders. There was a mix of pleasure and pain that got me soaking wet, but I got the sense he was getting bored. Which is like... totally rude, right?

I had never dommed before, but fuck, I was so pissed off. I’m hot, I’m on my knees offering you my pretty face, and you’re not gonna do your best work every time? Fuck you.

I decided to show him how he should have treated me.

After silently watching him writhe and whine for my attention a suitable amount of time, I climbed on the bed and sat on his thighs.

“Thank fuck,” Kyle said, “I can’t believe you just left me like this,”

“You deserved it,” I said taking him in my hand.

He was all sticky with precum and as much as I still wanted to lap and suck it up until there was nothing left but my spit on him, Kyle had a lesson to learn.

“What did – Fuck,” He groaned as I started stroking him, “What did I do?���

I squeezed him and stopped moving my hand, “You don’t even know?”

“Don’t stop,” Kyle whimpered and his hips bucked up into my hand to feel any kind of friction, “Please, fuck. You’re so good. Don’t stop,”

Now we’re getting somewhere.

I started stoking him again, “I’m good? You like it when I play with you?”

“Yes, fuck,” His eyes rolled back, “God, you’re…”

I tilted my head and slowed way down, “I’m what?”

“No, don’t–” Kyle struggled against the restraints and whined again as he gave in, “...You’re the best,”

I held him firmer and picked up the pace, “The best at what?”

“The way your body feels–” Kyle's breath hitched and his hips were moving with my hand in a way I don’t think was completely voluntary, “The fucking sounds you make. At – F-fuck – At everything,”

“Is that all?” I leaned down and lapped up some of the precum leaking from the head of his gorgeous cock.

“You’re too fucking good,” He groaned and his leg started shaking, “I don’t fucking deserve you,”

Finally.

“Say it again,” I ordered as I stroked him faster and squeezed harder.

“You’re too good for me. I don’t–” Kyle's muscles were so tense than I’d ever seen. His head slammed back down into the pillow as he whimpered, “I don’t fucking deserve you,"

His hips bucked up into my sicky little hand and a loud shuddering moan poured from his mouth. His cock pulsed in my hand as he erupted in hot, wet, pearlescent spurts.

I knew Kyle was a faster learner.

[captainofthetidesbreath]

I am genuinely enamored with patient, deliberate, slow control that Spenser and Travis play the scene at the end between Lucas, Nathaniel, and Nathaniel's father. Absolutely incredible the things that are left unsaid, left unremarked on, responded to only with silence and how patiently they deliver the little they do say and how unadorned and plainspoken it all is.

Their restraint and patience in waiting the other out and sitting in the silence, rather than moving quickly to fill it, is incredible.

Some numbers: Counting from and inclusive of "Locks eyes with you", this scene is about 2:17, and of that, approximately 1:30 of it is silence between sentences and long pauses between phrases. The silence between Nathaniel's father coming into the scene and descending the steps is about 6 seconds. Between Nathaniel's father putting his hand on his shoulder and squeezing it is about 8, then 10 between that and "he waits," another like 5 before he nods and turns. A whopping 22 seconds of silence before Nathaniel finally gathers himself to speak to Lucas.

I love a good weighty silence, and their patience here gives space to the echo of the memory to do its work and allows for the tiny things happening to breathe. Immense and admirable amount of patience and restraint.

[madhatterbri]

Distraction | C.B.

Summary: Avery Archibald just wants to forget. Carter Baizen has the perfect way to distract her.

18+ Only

The news of her father's arrest spread like wildfire around NYU. Students whispered about her down the hall. Even professors were treating her like she was a criminal. Avery was called in by administration to ensure the money her father donated to the school was not from embezzlement or fraud.

On Friday night, she sat in her dorm alone. No amount of homework could distract her from her life crumbling around her. She needed to get out and do something, anything. Maybe a movie could distract her. Avery stood up to head to the theater. She opened the door to Carter Baizen.

"Carter?" She questioned noticing he was carrying flowers. They were her favorite. A medley of lavender flowers mixed with white roses. The vase was crystal.

"I heard the news. I'm so sorry, Ave," he apologized. Carter seemed genuine. She opened her door wider.

"Do you want to come in?" She asked. He stepped inside and placed the vase on the counter. Avery closed the door behind them and followed him.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to-" he was stopped by her lips crashing onto his.

"I want you to distract me from everything," she demanded.

"Can't say no to that," he smiled and hoisted her onto the kitchen island. They continued to kiss. Her hands cupped his cheeks as he grabbed the bottom of her NYU sweatshirt. He took off her sweatshirt and smirked.

"Just like old times," He smirked looking at her breasts. She hadn't bothered to wear a bra. The sweatshirt hid enough. Carter started to kiss her neck. A soft gasp slipped past her lips. Her neck was one of her weak points.

"Carter," she whined as his kisses went lower. Her fingers snaked through his hair. His lips hovered over her nipple. His thumb rubbed over the other one.

"Can't have one get jealous can we?" Carter questioned as he stared in her blue eyes. His tongue flicked her nipple eliciting a moan. "I love how sensitive you are,"

Avery grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up. He smiled and kissed her lips with more passion. He hoisted her once more causing her to giggle. Arms wrapped around his neck, he led them to her bedroom. He kicked her bedroom door closed behind him. Carter placed her on the bed. Her pajama shorts were removed and thrown behind him.

"Beautiful," Carter breathed admiring her body. His eyes soaked in every part of her.

"Are you just going to stare at me?" Avery asked.

"In a rush are we?" He asked while getting on his knees. "You are going to regret that,"

Carter placed a leg on his shoulder. He peppered her thighs with soft kisses. The pace was painstakingly slow. She arched her back and whined. He used his hands to hold her hips in place. "You don't call the shots here,"

Another whine came from her. Carter smirked while continuing his slowly pace. The Archibald princess would simply have to be patient. Something he was sure she didn't have.

Once he made it to her core, he tried to think of what to do first. Carter could give into her whines or draw it out. She wanted a distraction, he was going to give her one. He slid his hand down and found her clit. With his thumb, small circles were rubbed.

"Carter," she whined trying to buck her hips.

"So much whining today. Is this how you get things in life?" He taunted. A frustrated groan answered that question. He continued his slow pace for a few more seconds before shoving his middle finger in and out of her. Without the restraints from his hands, her hips moved to match his rhythm.

Carter watched as she moved on her own. His thumb continuing to rub the tiny circle. His index finger now inside of her. Another finger added shortly after that. Her moans filled the room.

As he watched, he felt all the blood rush to his penis. He throbbed wanting to have her around him. His pants feeling painstakingly tight. Much to her protest, he removed himself from her and stood up.

She panted while watching him. Avery was so close. Prior experiences told her to not touch herself in front of him. He wanted to be the reason for her pleasure. All sounds she made during sex were to come from his actions.

Carter removed his pants and underwear. Pre-cum glistened at the tip. He placed a knee down on the bed and kissed her. His tongue licked her bottom lip before sliding into her mouth. She was blissfully distracted. He made sure her legs were wrapped around his hips before pushing himself inside her.

Avery moaned into the kiss and gripped the sheets under her. His strokes were calculated. She always hated when he went slow. He pushed himself to the hilt before slowly pulling out. The bed banged slowly into the wall.

"Carter," she moaned. He knew she wanted no needed more. The princess was going to have to beg.

"What is it?" He panted as if he didn't know.

"Why are you going so slow?" She asked.

"Ask me nicely to go faster and I'll think about it," he smiled. Her bottom lip jutted out in a pout. Carter took the opportunity to bite it softly and pull. Their noses pressed together.

"Carter, pick up the pace," she demanded. Her hips bucked.

"That's not nicely, princess," he tsked. "I want a please,"

Once she didn't say anything, he stopped. Carter had to admit it hurt him more than her. He throbbed once more but he had to hear her beg. She can't always get what she wants. An irritated look washed over the once blissful appearance.

"Carter, please, please faster," she begged quickly. He smiled and picked up his pace. She threw her head back and moaned. Her back arched. Seeing her act this way brought him closer to his release.

"Carter, I'm going to-"

"What are you waiting for?" He asked. His eyes closed as she felt the familiarity of her climaxing around him. The way her mouth parted and her eyes halfway closed. He loved seeing her an absolute mess. Not long after he met the same blissful fate.

He pulled out of her slowly and placed his hands on the bed to catch his breath. Once he was caught up, he laid next to her. Avery placed the blanket on top of their naked bodies. She laid her head on his bicep. His fingers played with her hair softly.

"That was quite the distraction," she whispered before drifting off to sleep.

[madelgard]

Time for our spotlight post on the May the Fourth 2024 entries, hosted by the Seswennan Social Club! All the fics and art linked in this post are rated T and under (with the adult fic entries recapped here). Thanks to everyone who submitted work to the event, and special thanks to @whenfireanddarknesscollide for writing the gorgeous calligraphy for this graphic.

Please be sure to leave a kudos and a comment if you liked the fics, and please reblog the visual art as well to help boost our artists ✨

📝 Fic Entries 📝

Please Pass the Tea by @pianopadawan

Veers/Piett, Luke/Zevulon, 1k+ words, Teen

Piett looked different now, of course. The scar from Endor was too extensive to fade away, the long tendrils coiling around Piett’s jaw and cheeks. That was no surprise. From what Luke had heard, Piett had been standing by the viewport when Crynyd had crashed into the bridge. It was a miracle the Admiral had survived, one that Zev had been very grateful for.

And Them Good Ol' Boys Were Drinking Whiskey and Spying by @klarionthewizard

Veers/Piett, Motti/Jerjerrod, 2k+ words, Teen

Lorth Needa is not predisposed to smugness, in Jerjerrod’s opinion. He is perhaps the only one of their motley crew of old academy roommates, given the general natures of Motti and Veers and on rare occasions, Jerjerrod himself. So it is a noteworthy thing, when Needa approaches Jerjerrod and Motti during the Empire Day celebration with a smug, if small, smile. Motti turns, attention fixing on the anomaly as well. “I won,” Needa says, a rare self satisfied note in his voice.

Empty Celebration by @shards-of-silver

Thrawn/Karyn Faro, 4k+ words, Teen

Fleet Admiral Karyn Faro understood why the Empire still hosted massive Ascension Week festivities. It would be a sign of weakness to pull back on partying after Lothal. To show any restraint amounted to an admission the rebels had dealt them a damaging blow.  For the sake of the regime’s image, the show had to go on.

🎨 Visual Art Entries 🎨

@zeldurz-art / @zeldurz's piece here (click for full image)

@tsukuyomi42 's piece here (click for full image)

⚡Further Links ⚡

The collection on ao3

Roundup post for the adult fic entries

[roosterr]

guardian angel ✹ ch 2

note: hello hello, I'm back again with more nikolai! I hope yall enjoy the continuation of this story, since I wasn't really planning on it when I wrote the first part and honestly i'm not sure how to feel about it lol anyways ENJOY!!

pairing: nikolai x gn!reader

word count: 3.1k

no use of y/n, no description of reader

I've retroactively given reader the callsign 'kilo 0-9' bc just referring to them as sergeant all the time felt a bit weird lol.

summary: the culmination of your efforts from your last mission leave a lot to be desired, but you're prepared to do whatever it takes to get your objective done.

warnings: canon-typical violence, fluff, soft nik, english speakers attempt at russian,

ao3

[one] || [three]

the night is quiet, calm – a rare moment of peace in the chaos that appears to be your life. the night air is cool, a welcome contrast to how sweltering the day had been; no matter how much time you spend here, it seems you'll never truly get used to the urzikstanian sun. it's the early hours of the morning now, the sun would be rising soon which meant you'd be back to work in a few short hours.

as you gaze up into the starry abyss, your mind in the clouds, you fail to notice the sound of footsteps approaching from behind you. a presence in the corner of your eye startles you back to reality, snapping your head to face them as your heartbeat picks up.

with a small sigh of relief, you realise it's nikolai, sitting down beside you and mirroring the way you're leaning back against the low wall behind you. he regards you with an easy smile, and now your heart is racing for an entirely different reason.

"i didn't mean to scare you, милая." he chuckles, stretching one leg out and resting his elbow on his knee. there's so little space between you, you can feel the warmth radiating from him, and it takes a great deal of restraint to stop yourself from shuffling any closer.

"it's alright, i was just spacing out." you smile back, feeling the tension leaving your body at the sound of his voice. it's almost unnerving how quickly he's managed to worm his way into your heart, but it's been so long since you've felt such a connection with another person that you can't bring yourself to be bothered by it.

"why are you out here so late? other than to admire the view, of course," he says, gesturing to the sky above you. a moment passes as you watch the stars, appreciating the calmness of the night.

truthfully, this mission had you at your wits end, you could practically feel the grey hairs sprouting from your head with the amount of stress this was causing you. but it was almost over – you just had to push through the home stretch, and then you could finally rest.

"i just couldn't sleep." you murmur. looking back over to nik, you're surprised to find him already looking at you, an incredibly soft look on his face. "what brings you out here?"

"admiring the view." he says, holding your gaze. in an instant your face is on fire, the cold of the night long forgotten.

"stop it…" you mumble with a smile pulling at your lips. you place your hands on your burning cheeks, turning your head to look at the ground in front of you as you attempt to calm your heart.

there's another moment of silence between you, a comfortable break in the conversation where you simply bask in each others presence. it had been a long time since you'd felt like this with someone; with most people, you feel the need to fill the silence, to keep talking or they'll get bored of you, but not with nik.

"something on your mind, милая?" he nudges your foot with his own, bringing you out of your thoughts.

"it's nothing, just had a long week is all…"

"дорогая," he tuts, grasping your hand that rests in your lap to bring your attention back to him. you meet his eyes again as he continues, "you're not fooling me."

a weak sigh escapes you, "everything's just… a lot, right now." you admit, you gaze dropping to where your fingers are interlocked.

"i understand," he lets go of your hand, bringing his arm up around your shoulders and pulling you closer to lean against him. "i will always be willing to listen, if you need to talk."

"thanks, nik," you give him a warm smile, and lean your head against his chest. "i appreciate it."

"of course, милая."

✹✹✹

"if this deal goes through, there's no telling what kind of damage they'll do, how many innocent people will be hurt." farah has a serious glint in her eyes as she speaks, her hands planted firmly on the table where she stands at the head of it. you nod your agreement, sliding the map you'd drawn out closer to her.

"according my intel, our target – kattan – will be meeting with a potential buyer here tonight." you scan the various documents laid out in front of you, brows furrowed. photos, e-mails, files, logistics, all of which you'd collected on the op you'd gotten back from only yesterday, all amounting to the meeting happening tonight. it had taken a lot to get this intel, but despite how much you'd gathered it still felt like you were in the dark and it frustrated you endlessly.

as your gaze travels between the three others, you find yourself lingering on nikolai standing opposite you. the conversation dims to background noise in your mind as you study him, aviators perched on his nose, his black hair pushed back out of his face, his–

"so what's the plan, 0-9? roll in and take 'em out, quick and quiet?" alex asks, crossing his arms over his chest. you blink, feeling your heartbeat increase as you break your gaze away from nik. alex raises his brow, subtly, and you know he'd caught you staring.

"no, these guys are cautious, we have to secure the shipment first, or they might bolt." you reply, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. "i have an idea, but you're not going to like it."

all eyes turn to you, and suddenly you're sure this is a bad idea, but you refuse to back down; this is too important.

"tell us," farah urges you, her eyes shining with something hopeful. you swallow thickly in the pause before you continue.

"the buyer is anonymous. kattan only knows their name, not what they look like, or their voice," your eyes dart between farah, alex, and nik, keeping your voice steady as you gauge their reactions.

"you're not..." alex doesn't finish the suggestion, already giving you a firmly disapproving stare.

"i'm going undercover as the buyer. it's the only way." it's a statement, you leave them no room to argue with your decision; but, as expected, the others aren't pleased with the idea.

"no, absolutely not–"

"like hell you are–"

"ерунда–"

the room devolves into shouting and various protests, but you only shake your head at their arguments. no words from them could change your mind, despite your own reservations about how dangerous this could be.

"sergeant, with all due respect, i cannot allow you to go through with this." farah stands up straight, meeting your eyes with a defiant look not dissimilar to your own.

"this is too dangerous, милая, there must be another way." nik's expression is partially hidden by his sunglasses, but the sharp downturn of his lips told you he wasn't going to let this go either.

"what else can we do? we have no idea where the shipment is, and we don't have time to find it ourselves." you respond, an exasperated tone in your voice as you gesture to the intel laid out on the table. "with all due respect, commander, this is our best option, whether you like it or not."

"we know nothing about these people, how they operate – this mission is not worth your life." farah crosses her arms over her chest.

"and what about the lives that'll be lost if i don't do this?" you argue, throwing your hands out to emphasise your words and the deep frown on your features, "we don't need to know everything, we just need to know enough. and everything we've got here? that's more than enough. i can do this, commander."

farah curses under her breath, turning away from you with a conflicted look on her face. the tension in the room is palpable as you await her decision, the silence between you nearly suffocating.

after a minute of contemplation, farah finally turns back toward you. "are you certain about this, nines?" she asks, fixing you with an intense stare.

"positive." you reply, a similar determined look on your own features. she nods, and looks across the files covering the table.

"then like you said, it's our best option." she picks up your map, "alex, you will go with them. park close by, stay in the car and provide backup if needed."

"commander, i insist that you let me go with them." nikolai speaks up, stepping around the table to be next to farah. 

"no, captain. we need you here," she spares him a glance and shakes her head, handing the map to alex. his frown deepens, and despite having no intentions of backing out, you can't help but feel a little bad.

"but–" he begins to argue, but farah simply shakes her head again as she brushes past him on her way out of the room.

"don't worry nik, i know what i'm doing, and so does nines." alex follows behind the commander, giving nikolai a reassuring smile and a pat on the back as he passes by.

he doesn't look convinced, however, clenching his fists at his sides with the same conflicted expression still lingering on his face as he watches them go. with a light sigh, you come around to stand in front of him, reaching out and placing your hand on his upper arm. he looks back to you, removing his sunglasses and hooking them on his collar.

"we'll be fine." you let your hand trail down, closing around his fist and giving him a gentle squeeze. nik's expression softens, his hand unfurling and gripping your own.

"between you and me, it's not alex i'm worried about," the lopsided smile he gives you is sweet, but you can still sense the apprehension behind it.

"you don't think i can do this?" your question is intended to be teasing, but the way he reacts says that it went over his head. his eyes widen, and he gapes for a second before he responds.

"нет, of course i do," he takes your other hand in his, bringing them up to his face and pressing his lips softly to your knuckles, "i cannot help but worry for you, моя дорогая."

the familiar feeling of your heart skipping a beat disrupts your train of thought, your mind focusing solely on the feeling of him on your hands.

"i'm– you're– i'll be fine, nik." you stutter, cheeks burning as you refocus yourself. you were convincing yourself almost as much as him; even though it was your own idea, and you were more than used to being in deadly situations, you were still on edge.

"i have no doubt, милая." he smiles, genuinely this time, and your chest blossoms with warmth at the sight. "come back to me, alright?"

you allow nik to bring you into a hug, his arms curling around your waist as yours do the same. with your face hidden against his broad chest, you're glad he can't see the anxiety written into your expression.

"i will." you whisper, feeling his arms tighten around you. it's an empty promise; this mission is volatile, and you know there's never a guarantee that you'll make it back, but perhaps having something – someone – to come home to will give you the strength you need to get through this.

✹✹✹

the drive there is uncomfortably silent. the fifteen minutes it takes to arrive at the location feel more like hours, neither you or alex saying a single word as he drives through the deserted streets. if you were on edge before, now you were hanging by a thread. you leg bounces with pent up anxiety, an attempt to try and calm yourself down as you gaze out the window into the darkness of the night.

at last, alex pulls slowly into an alley a block or so from the meeting point, and looks over to you as he cuts the engine.

"you remember the plan?" he asks, brows raised and eyes serious. you shoot him a look as you adjust your earpiece.

"keller, we've been over this." you huff; and you have, more times than you could keep track of – you could probably say them in your sleep by now.

"just–" he stops himself, the tension of the situation clearly getting to him as much as it was you, "humour me."

"i get them talking, convince them to show me the guns, then you come swooping in and we take them down together. happy now?"

"i am," a small smile tugs at his lips, "be careful, nines."

"relax, i got this." you smile back before looking back out at the street in front of you. only a moment passes before you see a figure passing by, slow and on high alert. "that's our buyer."

although you didn't know what he looked like, there was no mistaking his nervous, almost paranoid, demeanour along with the hood low over his face. you and Alex share a look as you quietly exit the car and make your way towards him. having noticed the two of you, he was frozen in place, his eyes wide and face covered in tattoos that indicated some sort of gang affiliation.

before he gains the sense to run, you lurch forward and grab his arm, twisting it behind his back as alex covers his nose and mouth with a rag doused in chloroform. after a moment of struggling, his head slumps forward and his body falls limp in your hold. you and alex grab him by his arms, dragging his dead weight over to the car and piling him into the back seat. 

with a nod of affirmation to alex as he secures zip-ties around the man's wrists, you cover your face with a black surgical mask and begin you walk to the meeting point. you lift the hood of your sweatshirt and shove your hands into your pockets as you shuffle along the road.

you round the corner, head on a swivel looking for any sign of danger just like you'd seen the real buyer do minutes before. all you can do is pray that your target doesn't see through the act. through the darkness, your eyes lock onto two people hovering next to a dark van, and there is no doubt in your mind that they're who you're here to meet. 

it's only when your a few feet away from them that you can finally make out their faces – you recognise kattan, standing slightly ahead of his comrade, but what you don't expect is the spark of recognition when your eyes land on the second man. a chill runs down your spine as his face comes into view.

baranov; the head of a smuggling ring, and someone you're acutely aware is supposed to be dead.

you hiss a curse under your breath. he won't recognise you, will he? you're certain you've never shown your face to him, but people like him always have their ways, don't they? you stop a little further from them than necessary, just to be on the safe side.

“you’re late.” kattan growls, his eyes dark as he assesses you.

you click your tongue, “would you prefer i be followed?” you keep your voice low, gaze darting between the two of them and your surroundings. baranov stays silent, regarding you with a look so sharp it could kill. the uncertainty of whether or not he recognises you makes your ‘paranoid buyer’ act feel all too real.

“you have the money?” kattan asks. he takes a small step toward you.

“not so fast,” you hiss, taking a step back to keep the distance between you, “i need to see the product first.”

baranov and kattan share a look, communicating something without words, before turning back to you with their icy glares. after an incredibly tense pause, kattan backs up towards their van, his eyes never once leaving your form. he grabs the handle of the side door and slides it open, gesturing to the inside with his other arm. 

“get in.” his tone is blunt, irritated. it takes you a moment to understand what he means, but you feel your mouth run dry when you realise.

“what?” you utter, your voice noticeably weaker than before. despite your best efforts to conceal your fear, it feels as though they see right through you.

“nines? what’s going on?” alex questions, his concern evident. you don't answer him, uncomfortably aware of the two sets of eyes burning holes through your head.

kattan gives a sharp sigh. “the guns are with our guys. you want to see the product? get in.” 

“i’m not going anywhere with you.” you seethe, furrowing your brow in a glare to match his own.

“...0-9?”

he clicks his tongue, sharing another look with baranov before turning back to you. “then, you’re not serious.”

“no, i am.” you take a step forward, holding your arm out when he begins to slide the van door shut. “...fine, i’ll go – but if you try anything, i’ll make you regret it.”

“no, no– hey! you don’t go anywhere with them, okay? screw the mission, get back here, now!” alex is frantic now, trying to get through to you, but all you can think about is baranov; how he should be dead, and now you know he's not, you need to make sure he is by the end of the night. “farah will understand, this isn’t a failure. just call it off, nines.”

"then stop wasting my time." kattan spits, climbing into the back of the van as baranov watches you with that same ice cold glare.

"i have to do this, alex." you whisper, careful to make sure the other two don't hear.

"no! do not get in that van, nines, if you go with them, i can't follow, it's too risky!" this might be the most panicked you've ever seen – or rather heard – alex, but you already knew what you needed to do. you'd known since you first learned about this meeting those days ago.

with a steadying, almost inaudible sigh, you climb into the van after kattan. the cold dread that settles in your stomach as the door slides shut threatens to crack your stoic exterior, but for the sake of the mission you hold yourself together.

alex is still talking in your ear, but his words fade into static as baranov drives the van further away from where he's stationed. this place was a ghost town at night, not a single other person on the streets until the sun lights the sky; meaning any attempt to follow by alex would be incredibly risky. you just had to hope that the others would be able to track you, and you hadn't just doomed yourself by going with kattan.

forgive me nikolai, i will come back to you.

[pomplalamoose]

Do u have any thoughts abt how make out sessions would go with luke? I know that he’s busy defeating the galactic empire and all but when they have hours of time when traveling in space things lead verkram places…

-💫

I totally do because I think about this a normal amount of time👀👀

• one of Luke's love languages is definitely physical touch 

• he likes to make sure you are standing/sitting/laying/walking right beside him at any given time 

• so if he has a chance to get you alone, you can be sure he will make good use of that time

• and what better chance is there while you're traveling through space together 

• if you are not already with him as soon as there is no need to constantly check the controls anymore, he will come looking for you

• if you're not in the mood for a make out session, he's the last one to make you feel bad about it 

• but when he finds you already waiting for him with an expectant look on your face, that man gets excited 

• often you try and manoeuver the both of you in a more comfortable position or to your room before he basically jumps you

• you are rarely successful

• to him it doesn't really matter where you are

• most often you'll find yourself sandwiched between him and a wall or with your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands on your ass

• for a Jedi, Luke has surprisingly little self restraint or patience when it comes to you 

• (unless he's teasing you; it drives you insane)

• so you can imagine how hard it is to eventually come to an end once he has started getting his fingers all over you 

• he could go on forever and probably would if there weren't galaxies to safe and evil Emperors to defeat 

• depending on how long he went without being able to kiss you (he's really dramatic about that sometimes), you won't be able to properly breathe for a few minutes with how wildly he is practically devouring you 

• you can't even pull away because of how tightly he is pressing you to his strong body 

• (he makes sure you're not fainting by checking in on you with the Force of course, he'd hate to make you uncomfortable)

• if you are of rather petite build your feet will be dangling in the air 

• if you're taller than him he'll climb you like a tree

• eventually, when both of you need to come up for air, he'll cover your face and neck, everything he's able to reach quickly, with kisses

• they range from chaste little pecks to wet licks 

• sometimes he gets so lost in the moment he bites you

• when you yelp he'll laugh and either do it again or kiss you to make it better; you can never stay upset with him 

• due to his enthusiasm I imagine his kisses to be very sloppy and open mouthed at the beginning 

• once he manages to get himself under control and concentrates on getting you all hot and bothered, you'll feel your knees weaken 

• you don't know how he does it, when he really puts his mind to it, he's a very good kisser

• he will loosen his iron grip and let his broad hands roam over your body, knowing exactly where you like to be touched 

• they'll quickly make a bee line towards your tits though 

• it doesn't matter what size they are (I'm mostly saying that to console myself tbh); to Luke all tits are good tits and yours he likes in particular

• Luke isn't shy to be loud

• even when you are just making out he can't swallow his moans

• you are never sure whether he really enjoys himself this immensely or if he simply likes the way his sounds make you blush 

• he is a tease after all and while he hasn't gotten you to admit it yet, he knows it turns you on 

• so much 

• "you like that, huh?"

• afterwards he likes to admire your swollen lips and how messy you always end up looking 

• he'll trail after you when you leave to fix your hair and clothes 

• to him it's very relaxing, nearly hypnotizing, to watch the way you brush out your hair and re apply parfume while he's resting on your bed

• however don't make the mistake of turning to him for a last kiss

• he'll seize the opportunity to destroy your efforts all over again