#I normally do not enjoy live action series but this one gets it right man

[pollyannawog]

Fuck it. I love my deer son

[cannedpickledpeaches]

Insert Your Name (1)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to series masterlist!

Notes and TW: I wanted to write something that simultaneously includes some fun Jade moments as well as my own thoughts on some tropes. This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

You’ve known the truth for a while—that this world exists inside a story. This is a world that revolves around a nameless, faceless, flawless main character. This entire world around you exists to serve one purpose: to present trials to the main character until she eventually finds a happy ending with her one and only. This world is created for “(Y/N).”

You are Friend A. Friend A is a foolish girl who puts (Y/N) into a dangerous situation, involving her with the mafia. (Y/N) is saved by a tall, dark, and brooding man who turns out to be a mafia boss. They will face dangers in the underworld until all threats are eliminated, and then they will live out the rest of their lives in blissful peace as though they are good people. Friend A is never mentioned again after page two.

You are Friend A. You are aware of that.

So why don’t you break out of your role in this story? Why should you play your part instead of using this knowledge to change the flow of the plot?

Simply because the plot is beneficial to you.

You are Friend A. You are a core member of the Leech Mafia. When (Y/N) enters the mafia, her actions flick the first domino of a long chain of events, eventually leading to the prosperity of the Leech family and expanding their influence. Because no matter what, this story caters to (Y/N)’s livelihood.

And why should you interfere with something that will eventually pay out big for you?

There she is now, coming down the street with a smile. Her indistinct hair is in a messy bun that she always throws together in seconds. Her pants emphasize her incredibly tiny waist, and her eyes sparkle with the light of constellations when she sees you. A light blush dusts her cheeks even though she doesn’t wear makeup, and she passes all the people captivated by her on the sidewalk, oblivious to their stares, because she doesn’t believe in her innate beauty and charisma—the beauty and charisma that the story says she has.

“Oh, there you are!” Her voice, clear and sweet, rings out to you. You wave back, just as you are supposed to. “You said you wanted to get sweets from the bakery that just opened, right? I’m so excited. I love sweets! I saved up some money just for this.”

A dialogue line full of exposition. You nod and lead the way.

“Have you seen their Magicam posts? The cakes are so pretty.”

Her giggles chime like bells. “I think the strawberry one is the cutest!”

Your small talk has little to no substance. It exists only to pass the time. To be honest, you don’t mind. If this were any normal day, you would have enjoyed this. You would have visited that bakery with (Y/N), gone home with a strawberry tart, checked up on the ledgers for the mafia, and slept while fed and content. But today is the inciting incident of the story, and you have your part to play.

A dark alleyway is where these things always take place in stories. Four men smoking and muttering ominously to themselves lean against a brick wall, hidden in shadow. Their eyes follow your every step. You make sure to walk on the outside of the sidewalk so that (Y/N) passes by the alley. As expected, their hands shoot out and grab her arm.

“Hey, you there.” One of the thugs licks his chops. “Got a minute to spare, pretty thing?”

Generic “bad guy” dialogue. Of course, he’s talking to (Y/N). You don’t need to do anything yet except make sure the pieces are in place. A flutter of black fabric in the corner of your vision assures you that the main lead is ready and waiting.

“Get your hands off me!” (Y/N) struggles against his much stronger grip to no avail. The men pull us into the alleyway and corner us against a dumpster. Tasteful.

“Don’t be so harsh.” Another thug whose voice scrapes like glass shards to the ears grabs your shoulder. You don’t shrug him off. Right now, your role is to lay low and let the main character shine. “We just wanna show you a good time.”

“You can fuck right off! And don’t touch my friend.” (Y/N) shows off her generically headstrong personality now. She probably thinks that she should protect you. You are Friend A, without any special characteristics, a piece of cannon fodder that cannot do anything on your own. Even though (Y/N) doesn’t consciously think that way, this is how she perceives the world. She is not wrong for doing so—she’s being sweet, in the way that she is designed to be.

You don’t have anything to do while she shoots off her scathing remarks, so you take your time to observe the thugs. Just as the story you read describes, these men come from an easily identifiable rival mafia. All four have a tattoo of a handsaw on their bodies—the symbol of the Carpenter Mafia, the current major group in the Queendom of Roses. Common soldiers, no doubt. Not anyone of importance . . . yet.

Thug Number One brings your attention back to the conversation by yanking on your hair. It hurts a little. Irritating, but you can bear with it. (Y/N) looks outraged.

“How about this? Since you’re so determined to save your friend, I’ll let her go if you give yourself to us.” He continues with his harassment by grabbing your cheeks with his grimy fingers. You inhale deeply and immediately regret it due to the smell of his breath. Your mind urges you to refrain from giving him a nice fist to the face. Not just from his treatment of you, but also from his gross proposition to (Y/N). Despite your respective roles in this story, she is still your friend. Hearing him throw those slimy words at her leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

(Y/N) puts up a struggle. “I won’t give you anything!”

“Do you think you’re in a position to make demands?”

She hesitates, looking at you with conflicting emotions warring on her features. Takes a deep breath, just as the story says she would. Then, with a wavering voice and a tough façade, she agrees.

You take your cue to run from the alleyway, abandoning her the way Friend A is meant to do. You don’t have to worry. After all, the thugs won’t be able to do anything before the male lead steps in and saves her.

There isn’t much time to waste until you get an update on the story. You hail a taxi to a neighbourhood by the sea. You tip the driver handsomely, bid him a good day, then walk another block before arriving at a mansion. There’s nobody here to greet you except the security guards at the front gates.

You scan the trees. Looks like he’s in a good mood. When he’s upset, he doesn’t usually climb. He hasn’t noticed you yet—his back is turned, his head buried in a particularly thick patch of leaves, and you’re downwind.

“Floyd!”

He turns so suddenly that you’re worried he’ll get whiplash. A grin lights up his face, and without a single reservation, he jumps right off the tree and lands smoothly on your side of the fence surrounding one of the Leeches' many properties. The sun shines across his handsome, sharp features. Of course, the twin brother of the male lead must be gorgeous in accordance with the axioms that govern this world.

“Handfish, how was it? Did Jade meet her?” Even though you are Friend A in this story, to Floyd, you are just his friend. He hasn’t given you a generic nickname like the “minnows” that he calls the family’s soldiers and staff. To him, you are an individual who is interesting enough to grant a personal nickname. Even if that nickname is “Red Handfish.”

“Yeah, he did. I saw his blazer.” You think back to the black fabric you saw before entering the alley. “I bet he’s doing the whole ‘I can’t let you live’ conversation with her.”

In the story, one of the thugs reveals Jade’s identity as a mafia boss in front of (Y/N) before he passes out. How a common foot soldier of the Carpenter mafia can recognize Jade, whose face is kept classified from lower-ranked members of the underworld, is worrying enough to warrant investigation. This could simply be a result of poor writing from the original plot, but you are also an example of the original story’s loose ends. If someone like you, who was meant to disappear after page two, can still have any significance and will instead of vaporizing immediately after you left that alley, then you can’t be too careful.

“Bet he’s being real smooth with it.” Floyd cackles, his raspy laugh reminding you of a chain smoker after five consecutive packs. “She’s gonna fall for it hook, line, and sinker.”

“Of course. We’re talking about Jade.” Even under regular circumstances, he’s charming enough to lure any poor, unsuspecting fool to their demise. “They’re going to come here any minute now. Let’s go inside.”

You pass the security guards and enter the Leech property. A perfectly paved ground with colourful stones and not a weed in sight. A marble fountain surrounded by neat, rectangular hedges. And of course, the enormous white mansion with huge double doors, which in turn have proportionally huge fancy glass windows. For (Y/N) to have a “perfect” ending, the world must allow her to escape her current life of scrimping and saving by marrying her into a wealthy family.

“I wonder what the little minnow looks like.” Floyd hums, sauntering into the living room. “I bet she’d break easily if I squeezed real hard, huh?”

“Don’t do that.” The two of you sit on a velvet couch. Floyd’s long limbs sprawl out and take up the majority of the space. You settle on the far end. “And are you going to keep calling her a minnow?”

“Dunno, haven’t met her yet.”

“She’s very pretty. When you meet her, I’m sure you’ll get the feeling that there’s something special about her.”

The story emphasizes how much Floyd adores (Y/N). She is supposed to become a sort of mood stabilizer for him, keeping him consistently happy in her presence. You wonder if that will actually happen. Floyd can and will throw tantrums around people he holds dear. His mood that flips at the drop of the hat seems difficult to stabilize on just affection alone.

He shrugs non-committedly. Just as you’re about to suggest a nickname he could use, your phone buzzes.

Five minutes away. Jade’s text is short and to the point. You stand and stretch, getting ready to play Peeping Tom.

“Remember, don’t say anything about the original plot, okay?” Floyd’s unpredictable nature worries you. You know that your reminder won’t do much if Floyd decides it would be fun to spill the beans anyway, but you can’t help yourself.

“I know, I know.” He frowns and waves you off. Laughing, you move to the room across the hall. He hates being told what to do, but he’s in a good mood right now. It won’t be a problem.

The front door creaks open. Through a crack in the door, you watch Jade carry (Y/N) in his arms like a princess and set her down on the couch. Smooth, easy, efficient, the way he likes to do everything. Even though you know he is acting, his movements, the soft look in his eyes, are almost believable to you. And you’ve known him for fifteen years. There’s an odd stirring in your chest. Guilt? Envy? You tamp it down.

For a fraction of a second, you swear you make eye contact with him. If he notices you, he doesn’t show it. He seems to redouble his efforts on acting sweet to (Y/N). It might just be your imagination.

Floyd pokes around at the two of them the way he always does when he’s curious about something new. His grating laugh fills the air while Jade bandages a scrape on her knee. Good, the scene is going exactly as described in the story. (Y/N)’s first colourful and memorable experience with her future family. Her new family must be fun, rich, kind to her, and love her unconditionally no matter the circumstances. Her new family has to be better in every way compared to her current one—a mother who passed away at childbirth and a scummy father who neglects her. For an author, these are simply lazy ways to give her a tragic backstory and simultaneously pretend her parents don’t exist for the rest of the story because they don’t add to the romance.

How horrible. How could a late mother and neglectful father not affect a person? How could they simply be written off as another thing the male lead “saves” her from? And for that matter, how can the author casually write in a scene where she is cornered by adult men who are physically far stronger than her, who harass her and make disgusting comments, just so she can meet the male lead? How can they just pretend that won’t lead to any trauma?

You know firsthand how (Y/N) lives her life, because despite the story labeling you as the disposable Friend A, you genuinely have been her friend for the past year. You’ve seen her live on plain rice porridge for days to cut grocery costs. You’ve seen her wear clothes until they are threads because she can’t afford to buy new ones. Oh, but isn’t it wonderful that she’s skinny and looks good in everything?

What a load of bullshit.

[petrichor-idyllic]

And just because I love your writing and definitely love Minho I would like to make another request (yes your personality now is to make Minho x fem!reader stories sorry :) ). So it's bonfire night and reader gets kinda drunk being somewhat flirty with Minho and when the bonfire is over Minho takes her to bed safely so she doesnt get taken advantage of some drunk boy and she confesses that she feels safe with him. Thank youuuu :)

Oooo yessss. This is right down my alley aha. I guess writing for Minho really is becoming my thing. Not that I'm complaining since I've been in love with him since I read the books when I was like twelve. That being said, I have a list of other characters I will write for pinned on my blog :))

UNDER THE INFLUENCE

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. Takes place before the arrival of Thomas.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, some suggestive language and actions, teenage drink and dumb drunkenness.

Greenie Day has always been your favourite time of the month, even since you experienced your first day in the Glade.

Because it meant it was Bonfire night. It's the one night that everyone let loose a little bit. Under the night sky with the burning flame dancing and people enjoying themselves.

It was rare for people to have a break during the month, so you're not the only one who impatiently waits for the next day a scared Newbie shows up.

And now, it's even better. The boys were getting used to you and you them, earning a mutual respect where you aren't as scared to have some fun.

"Yes!" You exclaim, punching the air in celebration as the empty cup lands on it's head, beating Gally who is just hairs behind you. Claps and cheers from the small crowd of observers break out as Gally has to down another glass of his mystery liquid.

You'd been playing some dumb drinking game with a fair few boys for a while now. The faint buzz of the alcohol sinking in feels good, and you know Newt's nearby to step in if he needs to.

It's nights like these where the Glade doesn't seem so bad. Sure, the Maze is shit, but the Glade is like a mini heaven slapped right in the middle. When things goes smoothly, you really don't mind living there.

You fake bow, chuckling to yourself before you fistbump Gally, showing some true sportsmanship.

You continue playing some games, including a game of truth or dare, which ends up with Frypan sitting on the floor with no shirt on and you having to down an entire glass of moonshine.

"Okay, (Y/N), truth or dare?" Clint asks you between sips of his own drink.

"Hmm, truth."

"Ugh, again?"

"There's no way that I'm taking dares off of you slintheads."

"Okay, okay, uh," Clint thinks for a second, trying to think of a question, "Okay, I got one. Who, out of everyone here, do you think is the most attractive?" The boys seem to perk up at this question, all eyes falling on you.

You have an answer. Of course, you do. But you're not gonna answer.

You give Clint a smirk before taking a swig from your glass, silently forfeiting and earning a series of growns.

Subtly, your eyes wander last the group you're sitting with and over to the Runners. They normally sat on the outskirts of the group, and tonight isn't any different. They didn't really involve themselves with the events of the party, preoccupied with thinking and talking about the Maze.

It makes you feel bad for them. They sound all day, everyday out there and then they come back and can't get it out of their heads.

Which sucks for you because the answer to Clint's question is Minho.

The man is drop-dead gorgeous. He's athletic, quick, witty and respectful. You always find yourself staring when he comes back to the Glade- the sweat makes his already tight shirt stick to him, the harness exaggerating his features, his hair is always perfect to the point of it almost being comedic the casual glances he throws your way make butterflies form in your stomach. Not to mention, he's always been respectful, even jumping to your defence when the other boys try taking things too far.

It's not like you'd never spoken. You'd had a couple of brief conversations and you liked talking to the Runners- you seemed to brighten their grim days.

Someone sitting next to you suddenly clicks their fingers in front of your face, snapping you out of your trance. "Hello? You in there?"

"Sorry, what?"

"It's your turn to ask a question."

"Oh, right, sorry," you fake laugh, "totally zoned out there."

The drinking games continue, and by the end of it, you are drunk. You don't normally drink this much, but you've been having fun, so you lost track of yourself, and with Newt too distracted to stop you, you've slightly overdone it.

The light from the flame stretches in front of your eyes as you sway slightly. And all it takes is one glance at Minho for the liquid confidence to take over.

You strut- sorry, you attempt to strut over.

Minho has been left to his own devices, the other Runners have probably called it an early night, and no one else has approached him yet.

"Hey," you basically flop onto the log next him and he immediately raises an eyebrow, smirking slightly at your drunken state.

"Hi?" It comes out as more of a question, his natural curiosity taking over.

"You know," you slur slightly as you lean forward on your knees, "we don't speak very much."

"Yeah? Well, I'm a busy guy."

"Yeah, but it sucks."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"Because we don't speak? Duh." A smile slowly creeps onto his face.

"I didn't know you wanted to speak to me so bad," he takes a sip out if his own drink and you watch as it leaves his lips and settles between his legs as his arms loosely fall between them.

"Yeah, well, you're hot, so," you drag out the 'o' sound and Minho sits there in some form of confusion and amusement.

You think he's hot? The only girl in the entire Glade thinks that he's attractive? That's got to be a flex if he's ever heard one.

Of course, Minho was just as bad as every other straight boy in the Glade- he's attracted to you. Unlike the other boys, he's respectful and keeps his distance. Even now, he's treading on thin ice, and he can tell you're under the influence.

Drunk words are sober thoughts and all, but he's not about to risk something you'll regret. He's smarter than that.

You take a swig from your glass, your lack of sobriety causing you to not even pay attention to Minho's lack of response.

"Okay," he leans over, taking the drink away from you and making you whine, "I think you've had enough."

"What?" You move towards him, swiping at the glass, which he moves behind him and above his head, completely out of your reach. "Give it back, Minho! You can't yell me what to do!"

You pay little attention to how close he is, too focused on retrieving your questionable beverage. But that doesn't mean Minho does. You're half sat up, nearly sitting on his lap as you lean forward, you shoulders almost connecting.

"Absolutely not," he puts his hand on your collarbone, careful with the placement as he pushes you back down and away.

"You're drunk."

"And?"

"You're too drunk."

"No, I'm not."

"You just called me hot."

"You're hot sober, too."

Minho snorts. Like, he actually laughs. There's no way this is happening. You're going to be kicking yourself in the morning, that's for sure.

"You're gonna regret this," Minho warns you.

"Why? You scared you'll have some fun?" You attempt to make a suggestive face, which comes across poorly. It just makes Minho hold back a laugh.

"We're not having any fun. There's no way I'm letting you do something you'll regret."

"Who says I'll regret it?"

"You, probably, a few hours from now."

"Find. Shuck you, then," you stand up dramatically, "I'll flirt with someone else then."

You walk away, not giving him a chance to say another word as you approach the closest Glader.

He can't hear what you're saying due to the chattering buzz that surrounds the Bonfire. But he watches as the other boy lets you hit on him, something you're doing in a very poor attempt to make Minho jealous.

It doesn't make him jealous. Well, it kind of does, but he can see what you're doing. More than anything, he's concerned. If you keep this up, you're going to get yourself in a very uncomfortable situation.

So when the Glader rests his arm around your waist, Minho is left with little choice but to act. He's on his feet fast, storming over and grabbing your wrist.

"Hey! What are you doing-?"

"Come on, I'm not watching this klunk," you let him pull you away from the dude. Minho leads you away, having to slow down slightly to make sure your drunken dumbass doesn't fall over.

"Changer your mind, pretty boy?" You coo, and he rolls his eyes, not even glancing at you.

"No." He's blunt. Understandably so.

He practically drags you to your hut- it's essentially a couple of twigs tied together with cement and rope. It was thrown up in a couple of days due to your unannounced and shocking arrival. Alby thought it wouldn't be a good idea for you to be out in the open in a hammock like most other Gladers. The only real requirement for the Builders was a locking door.

"Where's the key?" He says after trying your door.

"Huh?"

"The key? For your hut? Where is it?"

"Huh? Oh! Oh, okay," you've probably got the wrong idea about what's about to happen here. He wants to take you to bed. You want to take him to bed.

You fiddle with your jean pocket, pulling out an iron and slightly rusted key, which Minho basically snatches off you before kicking the door open.

Once you're inside, you grab his shirt, giving him no time to respond. "I knew you'd cave," you mumble, thinking that you're victorious, only for him to grab your arms and direct you towards the bed, pushing you and forcing you to fall backwards.

You screech, hitting the old mattress with a heady thud.

"Okay, sleep," he demands, pulling the covers from under you and making you fall again though you're quick to sit up straight.

"What? No! I don't wanna sleep- unless you-"

"Sleep. Now."

You groan, flopping back, your head fortunately hitting the pillow. He takes this opportunity to pull the blankets over you, tucking in the sides the minimise the chance of you moving again.

"You've gotta sleep this off, dude, this is concerning."

"But I'm still wearing my shoes!" You drag out the final word and Minho pauses, grumbling to himself.

"You gotta be shucking kidding me."

He moves the bottom of the blanket, untying your laces and struggling to get your boots off. You try to help by kicking them off, but it really doesn't do much.

"Okay," he stands up straight, "bedtime. Go to sleep."

He goes to leave, planning to lock the door behind him and then to just slip the key back under the door.

"Wait, Minho," he huffs,looking at you over his shoulder.

"What?"

"Thank you," your voice is quiet and suddenly he knows he's talking to you. "You make me so... safe. Thank you for protecting me."

Out of everything you've said and done in the past hour, that's the comment that almost makes him blush. He lets out a content sigh before offering you a soft smile- a gesture that few people get to see.

"Yeah, whatever," he manages to get out, "sleep."

The door slams behind him, and he does exactly what he intended to, leaving the key for you to find in the morning.

The walls begin to spin as you lay there, groaning into your pillow. You quickly start to wish you hadn't drank so much.

You don't remember when you fell asleep, but your head spins as you rise from your slumber. Your body hurts, but you're pleased to find yourself in your own room with little to no information of how you got there.

Your eyes fall to the key sitting on you floor, not that far away from the door.

"The hell..?" You stand up, swaying slightly and reaching for the wall as a wave of nausea hits you.

You struggle to pick up the key, but slowly, the pieces fall back together. It takes about fifteen minutes, but your brain manages to put the story back together.

"Oh, shit," you rub your face in your hands, sitting on the edge of your bed, cringing at yourself and not daring to leave just in case someone saw or heard how you interacted with Minho.

But you have to leave. You also play a role in the Glade, and you have to go to work.

Shit.

Eventually, you force yourself to get ready and head out. You let the shower wash away last njghts events and head to your job.

No one seemed shocked that you were late, but they also didn't seem to know anything that happened, which at least meant Minho had kept his mouth shut.

You'd missed breakfast and were too queezy for lunch, so when dinner came around you ate as much as you could.

You're so focused on your food that you don't even notice the Runner approach you until it's too late.

Minho clears his throat, scaring the shit out of you and making you physically jump.

The second you look at him, your face starts to burn. Oh God. It doesn't help that he looks so good after returning from his days work.

"Hi," he grins at you, making you shift under his gaze.

"Hi," you spit out and he sucks in a deep breath to try and stop himself from laughing before he can get his words out.

"So," he clears his throat, leaning on the table in front of you from the side, so he's close enough for other people to not hear, "you still think I'm hot?"

You practically choke on your unfinished mouthful, trying to compose yourself but your burning ears and avoiding eye contact is enough of a giveaway.

You finally manage to speak.

"Shut the fuck up."

Minho just laughs.

Another Minho piece so I can feed your guys' addiction. Sorry, this one isn't that long, but I felt like some light-hearted shenanigans were appropriate for this request. I know the plot is kinda vapid and not up to my standards, but this was fun to write.

Hope y'all enjoy :))

[drewharrisonwriter]

One Day at a Time - Ch. 3: A Busy Day

Pairings: Dave York x Female Reader

Series Summary: A man washed ashore, with no memory, and no name, finds a home and a life in the middle of nowhere.

Author's Notes: This story has been sitting in my drafts for over a year, waiting for the perfect moment to see the light of day. It wasn't until recently that I found the inspiration to finally finish the last two chapters, thanks to the incredible Keri @absurdthirst. Her story, "Washed Up," struck a chord with me—it had such a similar plot and concept to what I had in mind, and it reignited my passion to bring this piece to life. Keri's writing has been a constant source of solace and inspiration, and I'm endlessly grateful for her creativity and the way she crafts stories that speak to the soul. If you haven’t checked out her work, you absolutely should!

Warnings: Please be aware that this story contains elements of violence, explicit sexual content, and pregnancy. Additionally, there are medical inaccuracies throughout—because I don’t work in the medical field, so please take it all with a grain of salt. Enjoy the ride, and thank you for reading! 😊

Read this on AO3 | Check out my Masterlist

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over Dave’s room. You stirred, nestled against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting sound in the early light. For a moment, everything felt peaceful, almost surreal, as you recalled the events of the previous night—how naturally things had unfolded between you, how right it had felt to be with him.

But the tranquility was short-lived. The distant sound of commotion from outside gradually pulled you from your reverie. You frowned, sitting up slightly, straining to hear. It was the animals—something wasn’t right.

“Do you hear that?” you asked, your voice tinged with concern as you looked over at Dave.

He was already awake, his brow furrowed as he listened. “Yeah… sounds like trouble.”

You quickly slipped out of bed, throwing on your clothes as you headed for the door. Dave was right behind you, pulling on his pants and a shirt before following you outside.

The scene that greeted you was chaotic. The chickens had somehow gotten out of their coop, scattering across the yard, while one of the cows had wandered too close to the fence, its head stuck between the slats as it tried to reach for some grass on the other side.

“Oh no,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair as you assessed the situation. “How did this happen?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Dave said, his voice calm but firm. “Let’s just get things under control.”

Together, you sprang into action. You grabbed a bucket of feed, using it to coax the chickens back into the coop while Dave worked to free the cow from the fence. It was a hectic start to the day, the two of you working side by side, but despite the stress, you couldn’t help but notice how seamlessly you and Dave functioned as a team.

“Got it,” Dave grunted, finally managing to free the cow. The animal gave a disgruntled moo before lumbering back to the pasture.

“Thanks,” you called over, catching your breath as you secured the coop door, the last of the chickens safely inside. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

He flashed you a small, tired smile, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Glad to help. Besides, I think I owe you after last night.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I think we’re even.”

As the morning wore on, you both found yourselves immersed in the tasks of the day. There was always something to do on the farm, whether it was tending to the animals, checking the vegetable garden, or handling the endless paperwork that came with running the place. Normally, the routine was comforting, but today felt different—busier, more intense, like there was an undercurrent of tension that neither of you could quite place.

By the time the afternoon sun was high in the sky, you noticed Dave beginning to slow down. His movements were more deliberate, his expression pinched as if he was in pain.

“You okay?” you asked, pausing in your work to look at him.

He nodded, but the slight grimace on his face told a different story. “Just a headache,” he said, trying to brush it off. “I’ll be fine.”

But as the day wore on, it became clear that this was more than just a simple headache. Dave’s condition worsened, the pain in his head growing more intense, his hand occasionally pressing against his temple as if trying to hold the pain at bay. You caught him stumbling slightly, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he tried to steady himself.

“Dave, you need to rest,” you insisted, concern lacing your voice. “You don’t look good.”

“I’m fine,” he tried to argue, but the strain in his voice was evident.

“No, you’re not,” you said firmly, moving closer to him. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

Reluctantly, he let you guide him back to the house, his steps unsteady as you led him to the couch. By the time you got him to sit down, he was pale, sweat beading on his forehead as he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain.

“What’s happening?” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why does it hurt so much?”

You didn’t have an answer, panic rising in your chest as you grabbed your phone and called for an ambulance. “It’s going to be okay,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm. “Help is on the way.”

As you waited, you sat beside him, holding him against your chest, feeling helpless as he fought against the pain. He didn’t say much, his breaths coming in shallow pants, but you could see the confusion and fear in his eyes.

When the paramedics arrived, they quickly assessed his condition, noting the severity of his symptoms. “We need to get him to the hospital,” one of them said, motioning for the stretcher.

You followed them to the hospital, your heart in your throat as they rushed him inside. The doctors took over, running tests, asking questions you didn’t have answers to. All you could do was wait, pacing the sterile hallway, praying for good news.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a doctor approached you, his expression serious but not without hope. “He’s stable for now,” he said. “But we need to keep him for a few days to monitor his condition. He’s experiencing severe migraines, which could be a result of past trauma.”

“Past trauma?” you echoed, your voice trembling slightly.

The doctor nodded. “It’s possible that the migraines are being triggered by something in his past—memories that his brain is trying to process. We’ll need to keep him under observation to see how he responds.”

You nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. “Can I see him?”

“Of course,” the doctor said, leading you to his room.

When you entered, Dave was lying in bed, his eyes closed, a look of exhaustion etched on his face. You approached quietly, taking a seat beside him, your hand resting on the edge of the bed.

“Hey,” you said softly when he stirred, his eyes blinking open slowly.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “Sorry about… all this.”

“Don’t apologize,” you said, giving him a small, reassuring smile. “The doctors say you’re going to be fine. They just need to keep you here for a few days.”

He nodded weakly, his gaze distant, as if he was lost in thought. “I keep seeing… flashes,” he said after a moment, his brow furrowing. “Like… memories. But they’re all jumbled. I don’t know what’s real and what’s not.”

“What kind of memories?” you asked gently, leaning closer.

He shook his head, wincing slightly at the motion. “It’s hard to describe. There’s… a tower, I think. And a fight. Someone was there, someone… dangerous. But it’s all blurry, like a dream that’s slipping away.”

You listened, your heart aching for him as he struggled to make sense of the images in his mind. “Do you recognize anyone in these memories?”

He hesitated, his eyes narrowing as he tried to focus. “Maybe… I don’t know. It’s like trying to grasp smoke. Every time I think I’ve got it, it just… disappears.”

You reached out, taking his hand in yours. “It’s okay. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. “What if… what if these memories are bad? What if they’re things I don’t want to remember?”

You squeezed his hand gently, offering him a comforting smile. “They’re still a part of your past that might help you remember the rest….”

He nodded slowly, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “Thanks… for being here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You stayed with him as long as the hospital allowed, but eventually, you had to leave, promising to return the next day. The ride home was a blur, your mind occupied with worry for Dave and the strange flashes of memories he’d described.

In the rush and stress of the day, with everything happening so fast, the Plan B pill slipped your mind completely. Between worrying about Dave and dealing with the chaos on the farm, it simply didn’t cross your thoughts again as you made your way home.

The next few days passed in a haze of worry and exhaustion. You visited Dave everyday, but each time you saw him, it seemed like he was slipping further away, lost in the maze of his own mind. The doctors assured you that his condition was improving, but the frustration of not knowing what was real and what wasn’t weighed heavily on both of you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Dave was cleared to go home. The ride back to the farm was quiet, both of you lost in your own thoughts. When you finally arrived, the familiar sights and sounds of the farm seemed to have calmed the man sitting beside you in the car. 

That evening, after settling back home, you both found yourselves sitting on the porch, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink as the sun dipped below the horizon. The silence between you was comfortable, but there was an undercurrent of something unspoken—something that had been lingering since Dave’s return from the hospital earlier that day.

Dave finally broke the silence, his voice low and thoughtful. “You know… I’ve been thinking. Maybe what happened between us, that night… maybe it triggered something in my head.”

You turned to him, curiosity and concern mingling in your gaze. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated, his eyes distant as they fixed on the treeline in the fading light. “When I was in the hospital, I told you that I started getting these flashes—like memories, but they were all mixed up. There was this one… a tower, a fight… It felt real, but at the same time, it was like a bad dream. And it keeps repeating…”

You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond. “Do you remember anything specific? Anyone?”

He shook his head, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. “Not really. Just… fragments. Faces I can’t place, voices that I recognize but can’t make out the words. It’s like trying to put together a puzzle with missing pieces.”

You reached out, placing your hand gently on his. “That must have been terrifying.”

He nodded, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing rhythm. “It was. But what scared me the most was that I don’t know if those are real memories, or if they’re just my mind playing tricks on me.”

You squeezed his hand a little tighter, offering him a warm, encouraging smile. “Whatever they are, they don’t define who you are now. You’re here, and you’re safe. That’s what matters.”

His gaze finally met yours, the hardness in his expression softening. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

You chuckled softly, a hint of self-deprecation in your tone. “I try. But I’m serious, John… Whatever those flashes are—if they are really memories—good or bad, they’re just pieces of the past. They don’t have to control or define your present and your future.”

He was quiet for a moment, mulling over your words. “I guess I’m just worried,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “What if remembering changes the way I feel about everything? About us?”

Your heart swelled with a mix of emotions as you held his gaze, your eyes searching his for understanding. “Then we’ll deal with it when it happens. But right now, we’re here. And I care about you… a lot.”

A small, tentative smile tugged at his lips. “I care about you too. More than I thought I could, given… well, everything.” You both chuckled, the sound lightening the mood just a bit, a shared acknowledgment of the complicated history between you.

You leaned in closer, your voice soft and tender. “Then let’s not let fear of the unknown ruin what we have right now. We’ll take it one day at a time, remember?”

He nodded, his expression relaxing as he gently pulled you into his arms. “Yeah… one day at a time.”

As you rested your head against his chest, you felt the steady, reassuring beat of his heart beneath your ear. The worries and uncertainties were still there, hovering in the background, but for now, you were content to let them be, trusting in the moment. You closed your eyes, savoring the warmth of his embrace, the feeling of being held so close, so securely.

But then, as the quiet deepened and the night settled in around you, Dave tilted your chin up, his gaze searching yours with a newfound intensity. The air between you seemed to thicken, charged with a tension that neither of you had acknowledged until now.

Slowly, he leaned in, his breath ghosting over your lips as he hesitated for just a fraction of a second, as if giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you closed the distance, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was as tender as it was filled with unspoken promise.

When you finally parted, breathless and slightly dazed, you kept your foreheads pressed together, your eyes fluttering open to meet his. The unspoken words, the fears, the hopes—they all hung in the air between you, but the kiss had said more than words ever could.

“You know,” you began with a teasing smile, “the last time we started making out like this, you ended up in the hospital the next day. Maybe we should put a warning label on our kisses.”

Dave laughed, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Oh, so that’s how it is, huh? You’re saying kissing is bad now?”

You grinned, poking him lightly in the ribs. “I’m just saying, I’d like to keep you out of the ER for a while. Can’t have you back there… the nurses swoon over you...”

He shook his head, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours. “Well, maybe I should kiss you again, and if I do end up back in the hospital, kiss me again… in front of the nurses.”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning skepticism. “Wow, that’s pretty bold!” You laughed. 

His smile widened, his voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper. “Oh, that’s something I want to do.”

Before you could respond, he captured your lips in another kiss, this one filled with a light-hearted passion that made your heart skip a beat. 

Any lingering tension melted away as you both laughed softly against each other’s lips, the playful banter turning into something sweeter, more intimate.

Next Chapter 👉🏻

[yuseirra]

Mm..; well, I went and checked the hikaai tag

I actually don't really look up the tags here anymore because I get nervous,

Um.. Um.. I'm sorry for being an embarrassment(I SURE POSTED A LOT...) But I found a lot of things worthy of drawing about them and there was something that really drew me in about the two of them!

It happens when I really like a ship. I enjoy thinking about two people sharing a very strong bond, having a deep attachment toward one another, caring a lot, I can go on about that and explore about it on and on. I never get tired of it. I've been doing it whenever I join fandoms. It's something I find very precious and these two had something intriguing between them.

I think...I'll be still able to provide more, thankfully.

My chest is actually lifted to a degree(if they're going to refrain from explaining anything at all??) Because I refuse to downright just take the guy as a monster when we DON'T KNOW how things exactly played out!!!;; why can't they show it to us?? The whole thing about lies? Covering up? Was that what this character was supposed to be about? Then ISN'T the public's perception of him what's WRONG because, he'll be known for being Aqua's killer when he ISN'T. HE DIDN'T WANT HIS SON TO DIE. THIS WASN'T THE OUTCOME HE'S WANTED, evil or not. That much is still clear. It's still unfair. If he's bad, let him face the consequences of what he's actually responsible for. We don't know. This isn't justice then! So, you know what. I am not going to take him as the evil behind it all. I could sense some kindness in him even if what's left of it's a remnant of what he's originally used to be. This wasn't a person that should have turned out this way. I could see it really well.

Nothing about what Kamiki's told to Aqua about the nature of the industry turned out to be wrong, did it? People flock together and they entertain themselves with stories, isn't that what's happened to Ai? And now it'll happen to Ruby? Gosh, this really does feel like a bad/normal ending route of a video game. What more did we need to unlock the "true end" and find out the real truths of what's been happening? Sad or Bad or Normal ending or not, however, the writers should EXPLAIN what's been going on still. What are they going to do if they can't do that within the given limits of their own piece?

Since things are so indefinite, I can take things as positively as I'd like, out of all the possibilities, huh? And I don't think it'd be so far from the real truth either... I don't really see Ai having fallen for some "monster" because they were smiling very happily together in their thoughts of each other. The positive emotions they had were mutual. He was so happy to be with her. That wasn't a lie. She wanted to be forever with him and he thought she made him feel alive. I think that's precious. Whatever they'd become. I don't think...Hikaru would have EVER tried to harm someone he felt that way towards. The guy used to be TIMID.

Oh this got long again but, since the series is ending there wouldn't be a lot to add about, heard there's going to be live action and Hikaru may get some scenes there? Seeing what the recent writing's made of him, can I..;; trust them to write him in a way that treats him like a human being? Idk, it's been so confusing because I was ALWAYS able to read out some parts of his humanity as he appears(I actually wholeheartedly resonate with the idea that the guy must have had a noble soul.) but they make the other characters treat him like an irredeemable villain that shouldn't be regarded to have a heart.

I'd like to think he was an essentially good person. And at least.. There will not be ANYTHING left to completely refute and deny me of this impression I have of him. I'd like to think Ai chose a kind soul to be her partner. What happened after she died and what's become of him...what is with this man? I can't BELIEVE that's still ambigious, trust me, I'm very strict about morals and being in the right. That's why I was so nervous. That's why I kept questioning. I need to know something in full in order to be able to judge something, it's unfair to do it without it being so and.. It seems like we'll never know. I'll never have to worry every week and question whether everything about him and Ai were to be lies. Maybe it is but??; I've come to the conclusion that their love was actually real. It did bring disasters but I think they really did care for one another?? Things could have been so much better. I think they really could have been happy with the twins and them having formed a loving family could have become reality, because Hikaru was never so hostile towards the twins after all except that one really freaky thought he had but HE DIDN'T GO THROUGH WITH IT. He probably.. Really could have felt Ai in a pretty solid sense if he did but he still didn't(no but what was really happening there????)

I can come up with some things. I'll do it, even if I end up looking at other works. Thank you for viewing my works regarding this couple ;v;)♥ I'm.. Glad to say they saved me some positivity left but that's not because the ending was good, it's because I already had it within me and the work didn't blow it out. I'll draw something about Aqua too this weekend because that boy deserves it. I have no idea why he couldn't just live unless he has to sacrifice his life to form a seal to kill his dad who can't normally be suppressed... Having him die... Really doesn't contribute to the story in any way the way I see it, I'd see if there's a point to it but I don't see it having any meaningful message with Ruby being how she is in the ending either. Her "growth" sort of.. Reverted back didn't it??;; so, it's better if Aqua just lives. Literally no one wanted it to happen. He himself wanted to live. What will become of his soul?? Tsukuyomi should take responsibility for having put him in that body and let him live a normal life!! He got caught up in other people's mess until the very end!

[bucky-h0e]

Yes, I used Lilo and Stitch to quote the family that Bucky makes in this fanfic. Honestly, I think it just fits them so well.

There is a taglist, just respond if you'd like to be added! These are headcannons and scenarios revolving around Bucky and Human! Alpine. I'll be used she/her pronouns for the character and there will be a vague description of her in some scenarios.

Enjoy the series!

Serendipity Masterlist

Main Masterlist

How Bucky Met Alpine

It all started when Steve went back to Peggy. Steve was Bucky's family and now he was on his own.

He and Sam worked together sure, but that didn't mean there wasn't any tension there.

They definitely weren't on the level of living together, so Bucky found a place in Brooklyn after he got is pardon.

Quiet, the landlord didn't ask a lot of questions, cheap. It was perfect.

Almost perfect.

There was one neighbour that seemed to annoy him, though they'd never really talked before hand.

They lived opposite each other, so it was a surprise they hadn't seen each other before when Bucky was viewing the place

He'd seen a glimpse of her on moving day, lugging boxes onto his floor and dumping them inside the open door of the apartment.

On his second, maybe third run up from Sam's car - not that there was actually that much to move in - the lift had been occupied so instead he went up the stairs.

He was a super soldier, it's not like it would tire him out too bad.

Walking through he door, he caught a glimpse of his neighbour.

A young woman, maybe 21? 22? Long hair, wearing an all white outfit

In New York? That was brave.

She kicked the door closed behind her before he got a better look at her but he didn't care, he was more annoyed at the fact he had a young neighbour.

he didn't know if he'd be able to handle loud music and parties every night

he was stereotyping of course he knew that but he couldn't help it

a young girl living on her own with absolutely no parental watch, you just know there's going to be some sort of rebellious action

little did he know, his neighbour was a social recluse

and very

VERY

nosey

so nosey in fact that whenever she hears Bucky's door go, she's up and looking through her peephole wondering what the fuck is going on

she's bored and this is her only form of entertainment because how does this man function

she never sees a lot of groceries, never sees any takeout's delivered to his place, and only ever sees him with his friend or with Yori

and yes, of course she knows Yori

they gossip together on the weekends when they do their laundry at the local laundromat

but she knew who he was, knew who James Barnes used to be, what he used to do, who he lost

she knew he was on his own

like her

so, why couldn't they be on their own together?

she had watched him adapt his life from war to peace, and felt bad that he had no one to talk to about it

yeah she was a kid but she wanted to help her neighbour

she just couldn't figure out how to interact with him

not like she could just knock on his door and say "hey you have trauma and I have trauma lets bond over trauma together"

that would just be way too mentions of trauma

she could say "hey I've been watching you for a couple of weeks and you seem just as depressed as me lets be best friends"

but that would more than likely end up with a door slammed in her face and a restraining order

luck was on her side when one day, her pizza was delivered to the wrong address

she'd been waiting for an hour, normally she wouldn't have even gotten it delivered, she would have gone out to get it herself but the poor baby has a cold

fuck going out

she heard the knocking on the door and couldn't help but get to her feet and look out the peephole at the two people in the hallway

she may be on deaths door but she'll be damned if she doesn't know what on earth is happening right outside her door

"Yeah this ain't mine"

"bro c'mon just pay for the pizza, my boss will kill me if I get this delivery wrong"

"it's not mine, i'm not paying for it."

opening the door she grins because finally

her pizza is here

and she can interact with the Bucky Barnes

"it's mine"

she tried to seem cool

really she did but there's only so much you can do when your face is all red, snot dripping down her nose and her hair in a greasy messed up bun at the top of her head

the pair looked at her and she handed the delivery boy the money, sniffing hard as he left

"...."

"...."

neither of them had closed their door, neither of them had spoken

somehow they had gotten into a staring competition

it's really no wonder because we know Bucky loves those

but Alpine was STUGGLING

"Why are you staring"

"...."

"Dude seriously"

"...."

"Okay you're making me sweat, can you stop?"

she starts panicking and opens her pizza box to stuff her face, not taking her eyes of him

"See what you're making me do? Stress eat. this is all you, i can't stop staring- will you just blink?!"

she felt like she was in an interrogation

like all her deepest darkest secrets would come out

and some of them did

"OH MY GOD FINE I STOLE THE COUPONS FROM MRS GALWAY'S MAILBOX BUT SHE DOESNT EVEN EAT SHREDDIES SO IT DOESNT MATTER"

what

the fuck

bucky can't help the quirk upwards his mouth does, a small chuckle leaving his mouth before he can stop it

"This is really uncool of you man, why are you laughing at my MISFORTUNE"

"you steal coupons i don't think you can really talk about being 'uncool' kid"

This girl all but choked on the pizza slice she'd been stress eating

Bucky Barnes just called her uncool

the

audacity

"I am the coolest person in this building"

"you just confessed to to theft"

"so?"

"i didn't even say anything to you"

silence

braincells hard at work trying to reply

"....I-..... shut up"

"What's your name kid?"

"You called me uncool, you don't get to know my name"

she turns and closes the door, Bucky laughs and does the same

they managed to somehow bump into each other even more after that, with Bucky asking if she stole anymore coupons and Alpine challenging him (and losing) to staring contests

it always ends with her telling him to fuck off and closing the door annoyed that he wins

does he get paid to stare or something

she practices in the mirror because god dammit she will win one of these days

she loses to her reflection

how is it's even possible she doesn't know

but she swears at that mirror every day for a week after

he still asks for her name, she still doesn't give it

annoyed that he called her uncool and hasn't even apologised for it

or taken it back

"Seiously, I can't keep calling you kid, you gotta have a name"

"I'm not telling you my name, you'll just have to guess."

too much effort

with a frown he shrugs

"Fine, I guess I'll just call you.... Alpine"

"You just named me like I was your pet, shocking behaviour Sarge."

That was when he realised she knew who he was

she knew who he was

and still talked to him

he can't help but keep his distance after that

but, she keeps watching him nonetheless, making sure he's looking after himself

he still doesn't eat properly, she thinks

and it annoys her

if he starves to death before she wins a staring competition

she will kill him

it all came to a boiling point when he came home, mumbling angrily about his therapy session and about having no food in the fridge because he was too annoyed to go to the store after the session

his door slammed close and she stopped for a minute

she'd never seen him that angry

so, with all the determination a 21 year old can muster to care for a 106 year old

she cooked him dinner

it was simple, she'd say if he asked

she'd cooked to much

that old cliche

but in reality, she had no idea what she was doing

in the end she made some sort of chicken fried rice

it wasn't much but it would do

when Bucky heard the knocking on his door he contemplated not even answering

probably a lost delivery boy

when it happened again

and again

and again

until

"OH MY GOD ARE YOU FUCKING DEAD?!"

a genuinely panicked screech from the hallway

groaning he opened the door and stared at the girl, catching her hand before she could bang on the door again

"You're very persistent"

"YOU'RE ALIVE THANK GOD"

she nearly went to hug him, but he stopped her by putting a hand on her forehead, keeping her at a distance

"You're a weird kid"

"Shut up and come eat dinner with me, I made too much"

and he would have said no

but she looked genuinely upset at the fact she thought he was dead, a hand resting on her heart

"..."

"i'm taking silence as a yes."

with that she grabs his arm and drags him to her apartment, barely letting him close the door

Whilst she went about sorting out their dinner, serving it up and getting them some drinks

in the meantime, Bucky took a look around, awkwardly, as you do

it was a normal apartment for someone living in their 20s. Not too clean but not too messy, nothing indecent thrown around the place. a few empty cans but that was it

mail on the counter in the hall

Bucky took a chance and glanced at it, maybe he could get her name if he just looked

Alpine

what the fuck

"What are you doing?"

man drops the letter and looks like a deer caught in headlights for about three seconds, looking at the grinning girl

wait- grinning?

"You're a bit late sarge, I looked at your mail the first day you moved in."

what

the

fuck

"You looked at my mail?"

"You can't exactly talk now can you? now come on, foods up."

they sat and ate the dinner she cooked together, talking and getting to know each other, teasing about the fact she thought he was dead

it was nice

it felt like... he had Steve back

he had a family

but he couldn't help his curiosity

"You aren't... scared of me?"

she shrugs

"You could have broken my whole damn arm when i tried to hug you earlier, you're not a monster Sargent Barnes. I trust you"

there it was, the words he'd always needed to hear

you are not a monster

he nods silently, looking up at her as she takes their dishes to put in the sink

"Hey kid?"

"yeah old man?"

"You're pretty cool, y'know that"

"..."

"Nice try, I'm sticking with Alpine"

"Damn it"

[snurtle]

Nine people you'd like to get to know better! Weheheh.

Tagged by @criminal-sen I haven't done tag games in a while.

Last song i listened to: (squints) Uh. Dark ambient fantasy music for writers 10 hrs-- Fantasy tavern music for writers 3 hrs--- uh, uh, oh- shit- (i fumble the playlist and a bunch of videogame osts wearing tiny .mp3 trenchcoats go spinning out all over the floor. fuck. i'm not normally like this i swear. (i'm lying. i am. i love ambient music. and ska. shhh)

Favorite color: pink. there is no contest i'm sorry to say, pink is my shit. I would live in a cotton candy cave if I could. I am constantly one good decision away from animorphing into a fat, hot pink ceramic garden gnome in a wizard robe.

Currently watching: nothing atm, though I did recently start talking to a fanfiction author that I loved the work of. Turns out he's a writer too, and he gave me free copies of like ten????? of his sci-fi books?? full ass e-books??? damn. god damn. so nothing to watch, but E V E R Y T H I N G to read. I'll leave reviews as I finish them.

Sweet/savory/spicy: no. salty. sour. where are the real options!!! inquiring minds need to know!

Relationship status: uhhhhh idk ask @archvillain

Current obsession: sad evil men who are convinced they're doing the right thing at a high cost, not committing atrocities and burning the world. also DRAGON AGE. This fucking franchise. It's eating my life. I started systematically combing The Masked Empire for every instance where Felassan is mentioned or has dialogue for fanfiction research purposes. Truly the actions of a mentally well man. I'm hyped-against-all-hope for the release of the fourth game in the series, Dreadwolf. Apparently it's slated for this summer? I won't hold my breath... and yet.

I also enjoy chewing violently on mad scientists, though that interest has been dormant as of late (<3 Mayuri Kurotsuchi <3) .

I'll tag...

@accidental-hero obligatory tag in ask games. I KNOW you but shhh. Just tell me what you're up to.

@archvillain do i know you? yeah i want to know you better wawawaa @recurring-polynya I've missed your houseplant updates as of late! I started gardening in earnest again this spring and thought about you. @whipplefilter I was torn on whether or not to tag B3 here!! :D Either way your presence is always a fun bright spot on tungle dot hell. @kurjakani Your haunted-eyed old men and love of vast lonely spaces is deeply compelling. That's pretty cool!

And... whoever would like to play!

[thescrapbookingscientist]

Bimonthly Media Roundup

- The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare (Movie) - Well this was a waste of time. We decided to give it a chance for Family movie night as we had all liked previous Guy Ritchie movies, but man did this one have no soul. The characters barely had one personality trait to their name and were completely uninteresting, the plot was a stock standard "stop the nazis" shoot a man dumb action, and there really wasn't anything interesting happening with the visuals or dialogue to bother looking up from your phone to catch. Honestly the only things I remember enjoying at all where that the girl had a few good outfits and there was one jokingly homo-erotic flirting scene between some of the men that made me chuckle, but otherwise this was a complete snooze fest at best and outwardly annoying at worst. If you are really craving a Guy Ritchie spy action starring Henry Cavill, just watch The Man From UNCLE again.

- Spy X Family (Anime) - Paused this in Season 2 way back in order to obsessively binge One Piece, but man I forgot how cute and wholesome this is. I think all the OPs and EDs are great, I love how cringefail Lloyd is as he tries and fails to be a normal man, Yor is an absolute badass and hilarious character, and of course Anya is right there with Yotsuba as the poster child for actually likable weird anime child. I'll have to catch the movie when it comes to crunchyroll, I'd say this is the perfect slice of life/comedy to relax and unwind to.

- Skip and Loafer (Anime) - Speaking of fun slice of life/ comedy, I had heard good things about this series for awhile so my sister and I picked it up. It feels good to say that those things were true, this is a super charming romantic comedy with a larger focus on different types of friendships and how people's perceptions of how others view them affects they way they perceive others themselves. In terms of the plot itself I can't say it's doing anything special or unusual, but it's strength lies in how charming and down to Earth it is. The characters are all fun and likable without feeling like straight archetypes, even background characters have notable designs and personalities making the world feel lived in, the dialogue and expressions are entertaining, and while the slow burn romance is at the center of the story there's also happening with the leads relationships with other characters that helps them feel more rounded. The 'protagonist who is so good-hearted and earnest that they help people learn to drop their masks and form genuine relationships where they can be themselves' may be a standard but it's tried and true for a reason, and the writer here does a good job at making the whole thing feel pleasant without coming across as over-the top. If you want a sense of the general vibe of the show I would recommend checking out the OP, which is quite catchy and features a cute little dorky dance between the leads that really showcases the series charm. Also, there's some great trans rep in the form of the protagonists guardian.

- Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime) - Ah Jujutsu Kaisen, we've blown through the movie and 2nd season and there sure is a lot I could say about both. Overall I do think I've liked the 2nd season more, as the plot gets a lot more interesting/ less standard and the flashback arc has been my favorite from the series thus far, though at the same time some of the series flaws have become more pronounced as the "over-explaining convoluted techniques mid fight" and lack of more light hearted character interactions make some of the episodes really drag. Taken by itself I would say the series is enjoyable with a lot of good ideas, memorable interactions, and great animation, but it has a lot of issues with execution. It's one of the series I would love to get the script for and change a bunch around, like "Oh hey author I love this 'rivals to friends to soulmates to traumatized to enemies who still care deeply for each other to pure tragedy' thing you got going on here, how about we give a bit more focus to that and not fast forward through the moral-compass to genocide fall in half an episode?" or "Hey author, this brother complex blood manipulator guy is fun with a cool technique, you don't need to spend a solid ten minutes having him explain that 'guy can control blood' and 'blood less effective in rain', it's a visual medium, you can trust your audience to understand what's happening with their eyes". Anyway I'd still say it's worth a watch, I miss Maki, Geto has a great design, and I respect the movie for giving us a true Monster-lover with an actual scary monster girlfriend, good for him.

- Dungeon Meshi (Manga) - Reading the manga now, unsure whether I should binge it all at once or try to slow down my reading pace to truly admire the art and progression of the story. For now I'll say it's very pretty and very clever, looking forward to getting to the new non-adapted chapters.

- The Witch of Mercury (Anime) - *Sigh* I know I should be watching this more, as it isn't as if it's not a good series. In general I watch things much slower on my own so that hasn't helped, but mostly I just haven't been in the mood to watch a plot heavy show that requires my full attention, when I do get free time I find myself drifting towards the more lighthearted shows on this list or doing something that isn't watching anime. I'll finish it at one point and will probably have many good things to say, but it might be a slow journey.

- The S Classes That I Raised (Webcomic) - The longer I read this the more I find it unfair that it tends to be the least popular of the Holy Trinity, as it's certainly my favorite of the three. It can really do comedy well when it wants to, some of the more recent chapters have me smiling all the way through, but it's also great at doing interesting non standard things with the world building and plots and having the familial binds be the heart of the story. It definitely has it's flaws, I like all the women a lot but wish they could be a bit more central to the story, and sometimes the tone shifts can be a bit uneven in what you are supposed to take seriously, but overall it's cute, super fun, and consistently engaging.

- One Piece (Anime/TV) - Attempting to get my hands on all the artbooks featuring the many colored cover spreads.

- Genshin Impact (Video Game) - Slowly gathering pearls, primogems, and water droplets so I will be prepared when Kokomi comes back. I have thus far spent no money on this game, but if anyone will break me it will be her.

Listening To: Good Luck Babe by Chappell Roan, Tounges & Teeth and Metaphor by The Crane Wives, Achilles Come Down cover by Annapantsu, Dream Girl Evil by Florence + The Machine, The Red Means I Love You by Madds Buckley, Promiseland by MIKA, One Last Time by Ariana Grande, Bonjour Au Revoir by Joyce Jonathan, Power by Little Mix, All In by 6FU (Alien Stage), Lay All Your Love On Me by ABBA, Song of the Dead by Kana-Boon.

[hl-sweet-digity-pegsus-girl]

Ok, I can explain! HeavyMedic is REALLY, REALLY popular ship that has been hinted to be a thing since Meet the Medic. Heavy and Medic are a POWERHOUSE duo that relies on the strength of a big Russian bear guy that loves his guns, and will crush and mow down anyone who tries to get in his way. And wants a tank without the healer class? That’s where Medic comes in to keep the tank at full health and buff up his strength with just a command {and the right time}. The series of paired Heavy and Medic more often than Soldier being a dunce. Let me break it down why this ship makes a lot of sense. Heavy HAS always been at the forefront whenever Medic is around, even when he wasn’t speaking in Expiration Dat, Heavy was STILL present. Heavy is a relatively quiet man with a relaxed demeanor that can go haywire in a second if you manage to piss him off, while on the other hand, Medic is completely deranged and chaotic with how he goes about his work. He has 0 dignity or compassion for the dead or living, and more often than not, does questionable experiments that make the most sane person want to nope right on out of there. What makes this ship work? A shit down of trust. That’s right, IN Meet the Medic, Heavy was just chilling on the operation table with Medic rooting around his insides and working on whatever Medic was trying to do, only for it to be revealed that Medic wanted to replace Heavy’s heart to make the Uber more effective. Let me set this straight, Medic, an all powerful medical man, couldn’t tweak his invention to work with a normal human heart, but I think he just wanted an excuse to replace human organs with animal ones. And you know what Heavy was doing? Not a damn thing about the situation he was in, and even enjoyed it for the most part. Even AFTER the procedure was done, Heavy was nervous to fight a horde of Blu Soldiers, but when Medic said “I have no idea” the big guy STILL trusted Medic with his life above all else. Heavy trusts Medic, and it’s the fact that Heavy doesn’t like most people and sees them as complete idiots, all except Medic. Medic was the only one he gained respect for, and it’s been hinted that they might share more than just a friendship, they might even be lovers. Language says otherwise, but actions tell a different story. These two were MADE to be lovers and the fandom is eating up every bit of HeavyMedic content Valve gave us. Also hints have been sprinkled along the game with an different achievements you can get and two of them standout Red Octoberfest, which is where Heavy mows down people with the help with Medic. If you play Sniper with the huntsman bow, and if you shoot down a HeavyMedic combo, then you get the Beaus and Arrows, and the word beau is a term used by lovers. BAM that’s enough evidence you need that they’re in love your honor, Case closed. OBJECTION!!! There’s more evidence to support this with Big Pharma, where the Medic helps Heavy kill and dominate 10 enemies while assisting while healing. There’s obviously more evidence pointing to the fact that Heavy and Medic are indeed together, just their words don’t match the actions since it’s the 60s and they had to hide their sexuality from the world. So it all boils down to that Medic and Heavy cherish each other and are lifelong partners. Roping back to Meet the Medic, in the cut content, Heavy was still at the forefront of Medic’s ambitions and how he created the Medigun. Heavy was lifeless and Medic was in his darkest hour. Why? Cause his big Russian crush is dead and he has 0 idea what to do and just starts messing with things until he gets the results he wants, and look what happened, Heavy is ok and Medic is back to being his old self again. Why does this hold importance? Well, if it was any other old fellow, Medic wouldn’t have cared one bit, but because it’s Heavy, Medic had a real reason to give a shit about someone's life. So there, case closed.

I.. I don't know much about TF2...

But heavymedic keeps showing up on my fyp...?

Its... cute.. but now I want to know more...

And medic is incredibly interesting....

[rubyreduji]

Spring Break — csc

summary: even during spring break you still don't take a day off with professor choi

tags: smut (minors dni!), college!au, professor!seungcheol warnings: explicit unprotected sex, age gap, daddy kink, impregnation kink, oral (f. receiving), minor overstimulation, gentle choking wc: 2.3k an: i was planning on writing this and then i got a request for it so it bumped up on my priority list lol. this may be the finale to the professor!cheol series but who knows

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 4

You stare up at the large house before getting the courage to walk up the porch and rap your knuckles against the door. You lick your lips as you wait, thinking about what’s to come later. A duffle bag is slung over your shoulder as you grip the straps in anticipation, silently begging for the door to open soon.

Your college is on spring break right now which means you have a week of no obligations, free to do whatever you please.

Suddenly the front door opens to reveal a man standing in the doorway, staring back at you. When you see him a small smirk spreads across your lips.

Spring break means you’re free to do whatever you please, and for you, whatever you please to do just happens to be Choi Seungcheol, your biology professor.

“Ah sweetheart, come in.” Seungcheol steps to the side to let you in. When you step into the house Seungcheol takes your bag from you before closing the door and pressing a kiss to your cheek. Unlike his normal attire he wears when teaching, he’s in just a sweater and a pair of slacks. You internally grin at how even on his off days he still dressed up more than most people do. 

A few weeks ago spring break was brought up between you and Seungcheol and before you knew it you had plans to spend the week at the professor’s house. In the past month or so your relationship with Seungcheol has taken a shift. You’ve been interacting with the man a lot more outside of class whether it’s texting him throughout the day or sitting in his office during his free periods. You’ve even taken to eating your lunch together if you’re both available.

In that time you’ve gotten to know the man better. You find that you enjoy spending time with the man no matter if your actions are sexual or not. You occasionally wonder if you’re flying too close to the sun but then again you don’t think you care all too much.

“So this is where the elusive Professor Choi lives?” Your eyes scan around the area. The interior resembles that of a traditional Korean house but still keeping up with modern trends. You wonder who does Seungcheol’s interior design, assuming that he doesn’t do it himself.

“Elusive,” Seungcheol snorts. “I don’t believe that I’ve been too elusive to you.”

“Oh no, not to me, to everyone else. See, I’m special.” You grin back at the older man. A look of fondness settles on his features.

“Very special.” Seungcheol reaches out to grab your hand and pull you into him. His hand comes up to cup your face and he guides you into a soft kiss. The kiss is tender and romantic and it makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. You smile into the kiss before pulling away a bit.

“You know…your house is big, yet so empty,” you say, looking around the space.

“Ah I guess so. It can be lonely at times,” Seungcheol muses.

“Would you like to fix that daddy?” You ask softly. “Fill this house with a wife and kids?” You see Seungcheol’s eyes flash at the change in your demeanor. You lean in close to whisper in his ear. “I stopped taking my birth control a week ago.”

“Fuck,” Seungcheol curses under his breath. He runs his hand over your stomach lightly, before leaning down to kiss you. This kiss is different from the one a few seconds earlier. This time Seungcheol grips you tightly and presses his lips against yours fiercely. 

“C-cheol!” You gasp. Seungcheol picks you up and you wrap your arms around him as he carries you to his bedroom.

“D-daddy~” you mewl as Seungcheol runs his hands over your bare hips. His face is buried between your legs as he sucks your clit between his lips. He takes his time, flicking his tongue over the bud and relishing in the way you shudder. His hands move down to squeeze your thighs, kneading at the fat as he continues to make out with your pussy.

It’s rare for Seungcheol to eat you out because he doesn’t like to get messy before a class, but now you’re regretting not having done this before. You run your hands through his hair as he buries his face farther into your cunt. His tongue darts into your entrance and you buck your hips up, only for Seungcheol to push your hips back down onto the bed.

You’re dripping wet now as your professor eats you out. His lips and tongue work as a unit to flood your body with pleasure. 

“P-please Cheol, need more,” you beg. Seungcheol pulls his face away from you. He’s a bit out of breath and the lower of his face is slick with your arousal. He wipes his face off before looking up at you.

“Does my baby girl need me to fuck you nice and good?” All you can do is nod and Seungcheol smirks before standing up.

You’re fully naked already and expecting Seungcheol to just take his dick out of his pants like normal, but instead he starts to pull his sweater off and your breath hitches. You watch with aroused anticipation as Seungcheol strips off his clothes. More and more skin comes into view and you can’t get enough.

You’ve never seen Seungcheol completely naked before and now that you’ve gotten a taste you don’t think you’ll be able to accept anything less now. Despite his older age his body is still fit and rugged. His normal suit attire does a good job of covering up his hard muscles and tanned skin that has you nearly drooling. The whole package is tied together by Seungcheol’s large cock that hangs in the air, hard and waiting to fuck you.

“Going to put a fucking baby into you,” Seungcheol growls as he climbs onto the bed. He crawls over you so he can line his dick up to your entrance. You grab at his face and he leans down to kiss you. As your lips meld together Seungcheol takes this moment to sheath into you. You whine into the kiss but Seungcheol doesn’t allow you to pull away from him.

Your lips continue to move against each other as Seungcehol starts to move his hips into yours. The sensation of his dick sliding in and out of you elicits soft moans from you. Seungcheol finally pulls his lips away from yours only to move them onto your neck. His soft, plump lips press kisses into your fevered skin while one of his hands moves up to squeeze your tits.

You wrap your legs around the older man’s waist, holding him close to you as his cock digs into your cervix. You feel well loved as Seungcheol continues to thrust into you. His whole body works at yours, pleasuring and worshiping you.

It’s so different than when you guys fuck in Seungcheol’s office. Different in a good way. There’s no rush to get done before Seungcheol’s next class. Seungcheols’s not worried about keeping his normal composed manner. It’s also nice to be pressed against a mattress rather than his desk. 

You can’t help but feel like the mood is more romantic as well. The way Seungcheol’s hands move over your skin in gentle touches. His moves are more intentional rather than just with the purpose of getting the job done. Even the way his lips press against yours conveys more love than usual. You didn’t think you could fall for your professor even more than you already have, but here he is, proving you wrong.

You don’t mind the way that you and Seungcheol usually have sex, but you don’t think you’ve ever felt so good before. Even when Seungcheol fucks you stupid, plowing into you at rapid paces, making your mind numb, it will never feel as good as the way he’s fucking you now.

The sound of his soft grunts sends warmth coursing through your body. The drag of his cock inside of you fills your brain with a satisfactory fuzziness. Just when you don’t think things can get better Seungcheol is grabbing your thighs and pushing them up towards your chest. His trusts get harder and you moan loudly as he hits at a new angle. 

“God you’re so pretty like this,” Seungcheol mutters. “So ready to be filled up with cum. Make you mommy.”

You groan at his words. Thoughts of you carrying Seungcheol’s babies flood your mind and you nearly cum right there. Seungcheol can tell too by the way your walls twitch around him and he grins.

His strong hands grab your thighs and push them up into your chest. The new angle has his cock digging right into your g-spot and you whine louder as he pounds into you even harder. You can feel your thighs start to tremble, not just from the position but also from the pleasure building up inside your body.

“That’s my good girl,” Seungcheol coos. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“Please. Please cum in me,” you beg, your voice high and whiny. “I need it. Want to be filled up, want to have your babies.” 

Seungcheol leans down and connects your lips. You kiss him fervently, drowning yourself in him, as his hips stutter in you. He groans against your lips and you feel his cum leak into your pussy. The feeling has you falling apart in his arms as well, your whole body trembling as your pussy spasms around him. Seungcheol releases your legs from the position they’re in and gently pulls out of you. 

His dick is still hard and despite still panting a bit he helps you turn over so you’re laying flat on your stomach. “Such a good girl for me,” Seungcheol mutters as he crawls over you. He slowly inserts his cock back into your entrance, thrusting softly into you. You’re still sensitive and the rub of Seungcheol’s cock inside of you has your eyes rolling into the back of your head and your head falling onto the pillows.

Seungcheol’s front is flush to your back as he ruts into you. His body is warm and fits against yours perfectly. He fucks into you, pushing his cum into you even deeper. His pace is slower, more gentle. Seungcheol presses soft kisses into your shoulder as he drags a hand down your side.

“God Y/N you’re so, so perfect. The prettiest girl I know. Fuck.” Seungcheol’s groan has you whining, your insides clenching down and Seungcheol groans again.

“C-cheol~ need you. Need your cum. Need to be your good little wife. Daddy please,” you beg.

Seungcheol curses again and starts to thrust his hips faster. His hand curls around you so he can grip the base of your neck, not completely choking you but still applying pressure in the most delicious way possible. His thick cock pounds into you, filling your pussy and mind with flutters.

“Please don’t stop. Feels so good daddy, please don’t stop.” You’re babbling at this point but Seungcheol doesn’t mind, in fact it feels like he’s encouraged by your words from the way his grip on you tightens.

“Gonna fucking carry my babies. Make you so–augh fuck–so round and sexy.” It seems like Seungcheol is babbling himself. It fills you with pride knowing you can decompose the man in a way nobody else can.

It catches you off guard, but suddenly you’re gasping and spasming around Seungcheol, pleasuring flooding your body as you reach your climax. Seungcheol isn’t far behind, spilling his seed into your spent pussy as he orgasms himself.

Seungcheol lays down on the bed next to you and pulls you into his arms. You two exchange soft kisses as his hands roam your bare skin.

“Are you okay baby girl?” He whispers and you nod, already feeling sleepy. Seungcheol chuckles and pulls away from you to get up. You lay on his bed as he goes to get you water and a towel.

You bury yourself farther into his bed as you wait for him. His sheets smell like his cologne, a scent that’s come to be comforting to you. You think to yourself how you could get used to this. Laying in Seungcheol’s bed, living in his house, being his little wife. It makes you giddy to think that you’ll be with him all week, almost like a test run of being his housewife.

You can still feel Seungcheol’s cum inside of you and you grin to yourself, your head filling with thoughts of being pregnant. Seungcheol doting on you for nine months as you carry his baby inside of you. You guys starting a family together with mini you’s running around the house. It’s not the first time these fantasies have plagued your mind either. You’ve been thinking about it for weeks now, obsessed with the idea of becoming Seungcheol’s wife, the mother to his children.

Seungcheol walks back into the room, pulling you from your thoughts. He helps cleans you up as you drink your water. When he’s finished he leans down to kiss you again.

“You know I love you, right?” Your heart bursts. You know Seungcheol loves you, but this is the first time he’s said it out loud.

“Of course Cheol,” you cup his face in your hands, “I love you too.” You bring him into another kiss, pulling him down onto the bed with you. Your mind flashes back to your thoughts from a few minutes ago and you smile against Seungcheol’s lips. It warms your heart to know he wants the same thing as you. 

Your untaken birth control and Seungcheol’s two loads in you fill you with hope, and even if he didn’t get you pregnant this time, you guys have all week to work on it. 

taglist: @pandorashbox @leejihoonownsmyheart @soonhoonietrash @enhacolor @niktwazny303 @chaimi-yuta @yolkz @embrace-themagic @kayleeshinee @coupsgyus @joonsytip @heyxxitsxxtay @luvthatleader-nim @wonchansbrooklynn @d0nghyck @noniestars @heavenly-mobo @baldi-2 @sunnyteume @vtn-dahyun @honeylovemoon @debsworld23 @m1nghaos @just-here-to-read-01 @lovelyp3ach @niyizh @cbgisland @kpopandbitchcraft @blxckswxnxge @17kwans @jeanjacketjesus @hoeforcheol @x-veex @synthetickitsune @namjoonbaby

join my taglist: here!

[sukirichi]

sweet lies (m.)

His lies were way too sweet – and you were too addicted to make him stop.

cw. oral (f receiving), fingering, slight body worship, public sex, multiple orgasm, orgasm denial, dirty talk, praising, titty sucking, nsfw, toxic megumi, fwb, slight angst, the traditional unedited fic

note. choose your fighter, megumi or sukuna 😈 and thank you to besties nie and ellie for editing this STOP SHOWING YOUR ANKLES CHIRREN

series masterlist | 01 | 02 | 03

Megumi slides your shirt down your shoulder to press kisses on the bare skin. Your head tilted to the side to give him easier access. You hate that you feel so weak around him, your hands gripping his thigh you’re currently straddling, already so breathless from his teasing ministrations. 

“You should move back closer to campus,” he mutters at the juncture of your neck, pulling another soft gasp from you the moment his fingers dip inside your damp underwear. You feel him smile at your skin, using his deft fingers to push two of them inside your sopping hole. He pumps them in slowly, teasingly slow, coaxing your arousal to coat his fingers while you grind against his palm, eyes shut tight from the pulling knot in your stomach.

“It’s hard to fuck you when you’re a half-hour drive away.”

You scoff against him and roll your eyes. “I wonder why I got kicked out from the dorms in the first place.” Exactly two weeks ago, Megumi snuck in drunk and horny into your dorms, shaking you awake to get rid of his boner. 

It was a sloppy quickie, mostly because he’s eaten brownies and got fuck drunk before stumbling beside your bed. The insensitive idiot left his rum bottle under your bed just as he wobbles back to his frat house, and as if things couldn’t get worse, there was a surprise dorm inspection the next day. Not only did they find cum stains all over your sheets, but your bed also reeked of weed and alcohol, resulting in a quick expulsion from the dorms.

If it weren’t for the help of one of your professors, Gojo-sensei, you wouldn’t have been able to find a decent, cheap apartment. It came with the price of rooming with one of his old acquaintances, a muscular, heavily tattooed guy who seemed to be a few years older than you.

He really wasn’t a bad roommate. Other than the fact he seemed really intimidating, the dude mostly kept to himself, either locked in his room or away for work that you don’t really get to see him that much. His place was decent too, your room bigger than the last, so it was a good deal, but as Megumi said, it’s really hard to fuck around when you’re so far away.

“Not my fault, you’re so weak for me, baby,” he taunts as you tighten around him, his pace increasing with his lips sucking love marks on your skin. You can’t help but snicker at his actions; if you didn’t know better, you’d say he was jealous. 

But this was Megumi you were talking about – everyone knew he never got jealous. 

“I don’t like you here.”

“Aw, sucks for you.”

“I’m serious,” he grips your waist tighter, drawing a drawled-out moan from you. Megumi rubs your clit with his thumb and swallows your moans through open-mouthed kisses, your fists balled into his hoodie. Fuck this, you’re completely aware he’ll never like you the way you like him, but it’s so hard to feel sad about that when he’s knuckle deep inside you and playing you like a violin. As much as you hated him and his pretty face, you have to admit his fingers were fucking magical.  

Megumi nips at your lower lip before thrusting his fingers in and out of you at a numbing pace, not taking long until you’re creaming all over his hands. You pant at the orgasm, head falling back into his shoulder. 

He brushes your hair away from your eyes and kisses the side of your head, the gesture way too sweet for someone who insisted on a ‘no-strings attached’ sexual relationship. But you don’t complain – this is like a dream come true for you – allowing him to leave a trail of kisses down your jaw instead, his wet hands squeezing your thighs in a possessive grip.

“You should just live with me. I’m not comfortable with the fact you live with a man.”

There’s a trace of jealousy behind his voice that you’d normally swoon at, but he’s pushing you to the edge and fucking around with your feelings so much that you can’t even enjoy the rare moment. You push yourself off him and reach for your discarded shorts on the floor, sliding the material over your legs while Megumi shamelessly stares at your ass behind you, his head resting on his hands.

“Megs, I barely even talk to the guy; he’s always away at work. You’ve really got nothing to worry about,” you tell him, making quick work of tidying your school packets just to ignore his heated gaze. “Besides, you and I aren’t even dating. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

“You never hold back with your words, huh?”

You shot him a look, an angry glare that should be threatening, but the glint in his eyes just tells you he’s enjoying every second of it. “You like it.”

“Hmm, maybe I do,” Megumi tugs you back to the bed, effortlessly, as he flips you under him. In this position, he’s situated right between your bodies, hands clasped against one another. He’s absolutely stunning, bathed in the sliver of the moonlight, in your bed, no less. You’re a flurry of emotions – stuck between wanting to fuck him and kissing him, and then scream at him to let him know he should stop playing with your heart. 

Megumi’s eyes darken as he traces over your silhouette, watching the way your chest falls heavily at his touches. He uses one hand to trace the tip of his finger from your breast down to your clothed core, a smirk painting his lips when you buck your hips up at the contact. 

Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him. 

“Just promise me you’re not letting others see your pretty pussy okay?” he tugs your shorts to the side, tongue darting out to lick at his lips at the sight of your glistening folds. You’ve lost count of the times he’s made you cum tonight with just his fingers; the raging hard-on hidden behind his sweatpants is proof that he’s quite different today by letting you get fuck-drunk on him first. Perhaps it’s his way of keeping you so helplessly wrapped around his finger, fucking you good enough that no one else comes second to him, and he knows this. He sees this from the desire pooled in your eyes. 

Megumi scoots down lower to stare at your pussy, which is already embarrassing since you’re so wet down there. He simply sighs at your bare cunt before him, using two fingers to pull the lips apart, followed by a groan at the apparent slick. “This is all mine.”

In your lust-filled haze, you scrunch your eyebrows and sneer, “How about you mind your own business?”

“The fuck did you just say?” he chuckled, his warm breath tickling your inner thighs. “You’re mine, babe. Haven’t I fucked you enough to drill in that in your pretty little head?” Megumi doesn’t waste his time diving straight to your eager, awaiting core. Your hands fly down to tug at his hair as you grind your hips to his face, legs weak from his lips wrapped tightly around your clit. “You know I’ll get mad if you touch anyone else.”

“Fuck off, Megumi,” you spat out, “We’ve been fooling around for a year, and you still refuse to date me every time I ask you out officially. Listen, I understand you’re not ready for that kind of relationship, so you could at least respect that you don’t get the exclusivity of keeping me all to yourself.” Truly, this rebellion is so uncalled for and unexpected. The moment you had your eyes on him and made it your life’s mission to win him over, not once had you complained that he never wanted to take things a step further. But it’s been too long, too fucking long, and too many no baby’s already – your pride was beyond crushed. It was about time you set the boundaries this time, and you quiver around his skillful tongue, strong and firm as you rasp, “I’ll fuck whoever I want.”

“You’re lying.”

“What?”

“You love me,” Megumi pulls away from your clit with an audible pop, his face glistening from the smeared juices all over his cheeks. However, his eyes are narrowed, almost as if he’s scrutinizing you. You can’t focus on the fact he denied you of your orgasm because he’s looking at you so seriously, only to tilt his head to the side, a smirk playing on his lips. “It’s written all over your face.”

“Maybe I do, but are you deserving of it?” you push his head away and ignore the aching in your chest. Megumi shuffles close to you, pulling you in for another cuddling session before you hide under the sheets, making it clear you were not to be touched anymore. “Go home, Megs. I’m tired.”

In all honesty, you want him to stay. You want him to fight harder to win your approval back. He’s not a big cuddler, more of the type to pass out beside you after he’s gotten his own orgasm, but you’ve been so sure that maybe he might be different today. Under the sheets, your lip trembles in anticipation, eyes blinking wide at the dark silhouette outside your metaphorical shield. But as Megumi playfully slaps your ass, his warmth leaving the bed, you’re not really surprised. 

He never stayed the night before – why would he do that now? 

Silly girl, you chastised yourself. 

“Fine. But I’ll be back tomorrow,” you hear him scuffle for his shoes outside, a smile evident in his voice as his words float around the silence of your apartment. “Wear my favourite set like a good girl for me?”

“Go away!”

Megumi’s laughter echoes all the way to where you curl yourself into a ball. You hate that his laughter alone makes your heart skip a beat, even if it doesn’t carry any affection behind then. “See you then, baby,” is all he says before the door slams shut, leaving you alone to your thoughts and insecurities all over again.

His lies were way too sweet – and you were too addicted to make him stop.

You’ve really hit rock bottom; that’s the only explanation for your actions. Megumi was coming over in a few hours, unsurprising that he chooses 3 AM of all times. Not only did it mean his frat brothers would be asleep, but it also meant that his other side bitches would assume he’s doing the same. You know, of course, you fucking know you’re not the only one, but it didn’t hurt any less.

The pain just keeps getting worse every time you think of him, said thoughts always comprised with your shirt trapped between your teeth and your hands down your pants. There’s no denying you’re addicted to him, though being addicted to a never-ending heartbreak was a different story. 

A story which you’re not ready to find out yet, so you dress up in your sexiest dress and take the nearest cab, heading to a place where you definitely shouldn’t be.

Two more hours before Megumi arrives. Two more hours before you fall into that endless cycle of fucking and him leaving you alone, promising he’ll be back tomorrow, before it all repeats and traces back to square one. He’s not going to stop, and neither are you, so where was any of this supposed to go now? He doesn’t want you, not in that way, that very much is clear – so why was it so hard to let go of him?

Deep down at the back of your mind, you know your answer. It’s because, like the lovesick fool you are, you’re still hoping that maybe someday he’ll look at you the way you look at him.

Fuck it, is all you think of as you flash the bouncer your ID, not missing the way his eyes fall down your tits that are so close to popping out of your dress a minute longer than welcomed. Snatching your card away from him, you push against the crowd, immediately regretting coming here as the loud thumping of music and stench of sex and alcohol washes over your senses. 

You make a beeline for the empty bar, save for the bartender who had his back turned to you as he wipes the glasses over.

You clear your throat to make your presence known. The first thing you see is a broad back, thick lines of dark tattoos outlined even in his white button-up shirt. He places the glasses down and moves expertly before you, sliding shot glasses next to others before procuring a drink out of nowhere, a greeting about to leave his lips when you both make eye contact.

The drink stays still on his hands, blinking for a moment at your equally stupefied face before he says, “It’s you.”

“S-Sukuna,” you greet back, smiling at your roommate. You’ve barely seen the guy the past few weeks other than sleepy good morning’s, and I’ll take the trash out tonight before both of you disappeared into your own worlds. 

Sukuna is...well, you don’t know, exactly. It’s not like he’s around much for you to make a proper judgment of, but he’s a pretty nice roommate, filling up the fridge whenever you guys run out of beer. There were times he nods at you as a greeting before leaving for work, too, leaving you alone at the house from midnight all the way to the morning. Other than thinking your roommate is pretty unique from his face tattoos and roguish handsomeness that contrasts his rather frequent sleepy mumbles, you’ve failed to realize he could actually be like a normal human. Seeing him stand before you, his forearms lined with veins and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, taut waist emphasized by a black vest, you swallow audibly.

He’s entirely different from the guy you often see passed out on the couch, but it’s a welcomed sight, nonetheless.

Sukuna’s actually...pretty hot.

Hiding the thumping of your heart – whether out of nervousness or it’s just trying to match the beat of the music – you beam up at him,  eyes glossed over with curiosity as he reciprocates with a more mischievous grin. 

If he’s easily read your mind that you are indeed attracted to him, he makes no comment about it, focusing on hearing your voice over the music instead. 

He leans over to you, not pulling away even as your lips faintly graze his ear. Fuck, he’s got piercings too. You greedily drink in his masculine scent, thankful that the music thumping is so loud he won’t hear the frenzy mess inside your ribcage. 

“I didn’t know you worked here. Heck, I didn’t know you were a bartender, but I guess the irregular sleep patterns make sense somehow.”

“What did you think I was, sweetheart?”

His deep voice reverberates all the way down to your toes, his throaty chuckle hoarse. “I-I don’t know,” you pull away nervously, blinking up at him way too innocently. “A gangster, to be honest,” you blurted out. Sukuna tilts his head to the side, and you immediately raise your hands beside your head as you mull over how offensive your words might’ve been. “I don’t mean anything offensive by it, I swear! It was just my first impression!”

“First impressions are usually false. Anyway. It’s fine,” he shrugs, resuming his task of wiping over the glasses. 

His hands were so big, his fingers long and slender...your attention is drawn to the adept manner of how he wipes the cloth using the tip of his finger, reaching behind him to get another glass, all without keeping his eyes off of yours. It leaves much room to muse about what else he could do with those hands, and you squirm at your seat, opting to look at his face instead since that would be more polite than eye-fucking his hands.

Sukuna smirks, that cunning twinkle in his eyes matching the dim lights of the bar. Somehow, you suddenly feel so lightheaded. 

“If it makes you feel better, I thought you were a shy girl at first, but your boy toy brings a different side of you every time he comes around.”

You squeak in embarrassment, “You’re home by then?!”

“Only sometimes,” he reassures with a laugh. “But I’ve heard enough,” Right. He’s older and definitely more experienced than your sexual escapades with Megumi – this must be nothing new to him by now, and yet, your skin flushes heated. “Don’t look too flustered, sweetheart. It’s not the first time I’ve heard of that,” he nods at you, “You don’t look very happy with him, though.”

“Tch, now you’re assessing my relationship status?”

“I don’t have to,” he shrugs, the gesture so damn reassured. Chuckling at your apparent frown, Sukuna shakes his head to himself. “It’s written all over your face you’re not satisfied with something. You wouldn’t be here if you were feeling good in the first place.”

“How much have you heard?”

“Oh, I don’t care about how you scream his name. That’s none of my business,” he grumbles under his breath rather bitterly – but that could just be the music messing with you. Sukuna holds your gaze as he sets the final glass down before you, his elbows languidly resting on the counter that separates you both. You’re left staring at him in wonder, watching the way he pours the drink right in front of you, the movement of his lips so intoxicating and even erotic you nearly didn’t hear him say, “But as your roommate, I wish you’d stop inviting him around and just kick him out already. He doesn’t like you, you know.”

He doesn’t like you. Megumi doesn’t like you – you know that already.

Glare deepening at your surprisingly nosy roommate, you take the glass from him and down it in one go. Sukuna’s brows shot up in awe, arms crossed against his puffed-out chest as you slam the glass down. 

You were fuming. 

“You don’t know a single fucking thing about me.”

“That’s right, I don’t,” he answers without skipping a beat, “But we men, we understand each other,” You open your mouth to retort, silenced by Sukuna’s finger pressing against your lips. You freeze at the contact, and Sukuna makes use of your state, continuing right where he left from. 

“Listen, take it from me as free advice. I’ll even put your drink on the house.”

Really, nothing is stopping you from biting off this guy’s finger, but he looks like he knows something you don’t that you just choose to keep your mouth shut.

Satisfied at your decision, Sukuna smiles sweetly, reaching over to tuck your hair behind your ear. The gesture puts you under his spell, and he lingers there a little longer, massaging the lobes of your ears before he pulls back just as fast, almost as if he never touched you in the first place.

You fight back the urge to huff. 

Why were men so complicated? One moment, they were hot, then cold the next. You would just never get it.

“That guy you’ve been mooning over for who knows how long? He doesn’t give a fuck about you. You’re just someone who warms his cock every now and then, but I guarantee he’s thinking about someone else in his head when he’s with you,” he announces straightforwardly, not giving you the time to recover before he shrugs like his words didn’t just slap you in the face. “Just call quits on him, sweetheart. There’s really no need to waste such a pretty face. Ever heard of the saying – there’s plenty of fish in the sea?” he pushes another drink to you, “Drink up and loosen a little. With a face and body like that, you’ll find someone better soon.”

“I highly doubt I can find someone better when all everyone sees is my appearance.”

“I don’t,” he hinted with dark eyes, “But I assure you it might be what people see first. You do have a face of an angel; men are into that shit.”

Taking the drink from him with a loud sigh, you feel yourself weaken. You bury your head in your hands, replaying all the memories you’ve had with Megumi. It’s foreseeable that almost all of them consisted of you two fucking, nothing but a faint memory of two where Megumi actually cared enough to perform aftercare. The thought makes you wince; he really is an ass, but you’re also so hopelessly infatuated with him that you refuse to acknowledge the truth.

“Megs and I...we’re just complicated, okay?”

“Sure.”

“I swear!” your defenses are hopelessSukuna’s knowing smirk, the man holding back a snigger from your silent rage. “Besides, maybe his disinterested nature is what made me attracted to him in the first place. I like the mystery. It’s not bad for a girl to enjoy searching for answers every now and then.”

“Except he’s already given you a concrete no, and you’re the only one still hanging onto him,” he reminds you. At your dropped jaw, Sukuna has the audacity to wink. That motherfucker –“Pressed a button, kitten?” he pats your head, leaving you to be even more riled up. “Don’t be sad. It’s not like he’s the only guy who can make you feel good.” As if a light bulb went up in his head, Sukuna hid his smile by turning his back to you, pretending to be engrossed in the drinks all laid out in front of him. But even with his face obscured from your view, his words rang thick and clear: “In fact, I bet you your cute ass someone else can change your former perspective on what pleasure really is.”

“Yeah, like who?” you snorted sarcastically, “You?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” he faces you, absolutely shameless as he eyes your cleavage. Sukuna clenches his jaw at the tempting view before him, sliding his gaze back to yours to look for the answers in your face. “If you want a demonstration, that is.”

Sukuna hasn’t really touched you or even spoke explicitly, but you’re breathing hard anyways, subconsciously clawing the countertop. 

You don’t know if it’s your voice or his that’s ringing your ears, the words what’s holding you back? the last thing you hear before grabbing him by the collar, leaning over the counter to taste his lips. Sukuna smiles at the kiss, his large hands cupping your face in them. His thumb traces circles over your jaw as you greedily suck on his lip, uncaring that you’re making out with your roommate in a public place.

As if remembering that he’s still at work, Sukuna pulls away for a moment, diving in for one last peck that has you giggling adorably. Sukuna’s grin grows wider at your flushed cheeks, snapping his fingers at someone from a distance. “Geto, break!” 

The guy who must be Geto popped his head out of the backroom, frowning at Sukuna’s words when his gaze lands on you and the not-so-subtle needy grip you have on Sukuna’s collar. His mouth forms into an ‘o’ shape before he gives a thumb up, disappearing afterward. 

That’s all Sukuna needs before he’s leaving the counter, breathing in your panicked squeals as he picks you up, your legs flailing to wrap around his.

You’re giggling and laughing all the way to the back of the club, your hands tugging at his undercut and his own squeezing at your ass. Sukuna kicks the door of the restroom open, which is thankfully clean (you made the right choice choosing a luxurious club), settles you down before him, and locking the stall.

His lips are on yours in an instant, his hands tugging off your dress and scowling at it as if it’s offensive. “Calm down,” you tease him, “They didn’t do anything wrong.”

“They were a fucking tease the whole night,” he glares at the lacy cups of your bra, his breathing laboured as he cups them. You throw your head back until it thumps at the door, teeth muffling the moans that threaten to erupt. Sukuna unclasps the material in one swift movement, surprising with just how many times he’s done this before. “Fucking gorgeous tits – why the fuck does your boy toy not want to keep you to himself?”

“He’s – oh fuck,” you scrape Sukuna’s scalp, his tongue wrapping around the swollen bud. He caresses the other one not to leave it unattended, and he’s grinding you against the door so hard, his dick poking at your dress leaving very little to the imagination. 

Sukuna chuckles at your broken response, rutting his hips in such a sensual manner you didn’t think he was capable of. “You were saying?”

You glare at him from under your chin, but he can’t take you seriously while he’s sucking at your tit like a child. This man is brave enough to nip it with his teeth, the sting making you hiss and buck against him. “He’s possessive,” you breathe through your mouth, a little in disbelief you’re casually thinking about him while Sukuna gets down on his knees. “He wants me to be exclusive with him, but he’s free to fuck who he pleases.”

Sukuna rubs both palms in front of his face as if preparing to devour a meal, which he’ll do so soon enough. He pushes your dress and bunches it at your waist, tugging your underwear to the side before he groans. The sound is so deep and masculine, so utterly frustrated for some reason you can’t understand.

“Now that’s unfair,” he mumbles absentmindedly, peppering your pelvis with kisses. The feverish touch of his warm lips on your already burning skin has you clutching at the door, feeling your legs weaken.

His eagerness and distrait acts of body worship drive you crazy. Megumi is good at making you feel desired and fuckable – that much you know from his habits of pushing his pants down at pretty much anywhere as long as you were around, claiming you’re a walking ‘boner trigger.’ Sukuna, on the other hand, was a lot more patient and attentive to his movements, taking the time to make you feel you were more than just a body and a hole. It’s odd, hella fucking odd, because this man is older than you and a friend of your professors, but did you care? No. Did you want him to fuck your brains out in a public restroom? Fuck yes.

A wanton moan paints the wall as Sukuna slides your thong off just above your knee, his eyes closed as he buries his cheek in it. You look down with wide eyes, hands grabbing at nothing and everything at the same time. From the looks of it, he’s sniffing your sex, the sight so outright erotic that you only moan louder.

How was it possible to be this much turned on?

By the time he’s opened his eyes, his entire demeanour’s shifted. Gone was the enthusiastic and sly bartender, now replaced with a much more animalistic entity residing beside it. 

Before you could make yourself comfortable, Sukuna hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, the tip of your heel grazed against the tight walls of the stall. He licks a flat stripe from your hole that clenches around nothing, moving upwards in such a passionate, languid manner he’s making you forget you’re literally in a fucking restroom. Your breasts heave up and down from how you’re struggling to breathe, his tongue pushing past through the tight ring of resistance until he’s plunged through your core. You wobble above him, remaining upright only by his arm pushing your back flat on your under boob.

Sukuna slurps at your cunt yearningly, the hums he gives every now and then, making your core vibrate. You grind your pussy on his face, the black marks lined on his face glistening.

He moves to suck at your clit, transitioning after each beat to slurping the swollen bud and kissing your lips as if he was making out with it. You’re sure you’re making a mess on his face, but he doesn’t give you time to feel embarrassed about it. He spreads your legs further until your muscles ache from the stretch, the pain accompanied by your stomach tightening.

“S-Sukuna, oh, oh yeah,” you bang your fist on the door, his smug chuckles sending you over the edge. Your pupils blow wide as you feel the impending orgasm weigh down on you heavily, about to send you into overdrive by his tongue swiping at your lips, teasing you to give it to him more, give it to him harder. Turning your head down to warn him you’re coming, the words die on your throat because he’s already looking at you, his cheeks and nose smothered with your shining slick, and the brat is smirking. “Shit, you’re a little—” Sukuna cuts you off by generously sucking your clit one more time, pulling the muscle taut just to show you that it’s rolling between his lips. It looks fucking insane and filthy that you come right there and then. 

Your orgasm is so strong that you actually slip from your heels. A scream from you is knocked back into you just as fast, Sukuna moving quick and graceful in one fluid movement. He catches your leg and shoves you against the door, gripping at your hips until you’re bending forward, ass perked, and wiggling just for him.

For a split second, you’re sure you hear the unbuckling of a belt, but it all fades in your clouded mind.

Sukuna enters you in one thrust, the sensation of being filled up so soon rendering you speechless. Literally absolutely silent, palms flat on the door and tongue lolled out, all the burning in your body focused on your centre.

He releases a grunt at finally being inside your plush, warm walls. Sukuna allows you to get used to his length for a solid minute, both of you catching your breath in the meantime. Your tits are sprawled out, and you’re a shaky mess, feeling nothing less of dirty yet so aroused that you can’t do anything about it. Sukuna thrusts in slowly at first, and that’s when you feel the size difference between him and Megumi. Megs was definitely blessed in the dick department, and he’s always been so cocky about it, but goddamn, Sukuna was beyond huge.

You think you could cum again just from him filling you up. He was stretching you out so well that he leaves behind a faint burn, making you feel as if it’s your first time all over again – all for the good reasons.

He soon begins to set his pace, one of his hands tugging at your ponytail so he could see your glossy eyes and mouth hanging open. Sukuna scoffs at your fucked out state, too cock-hungry even to form coherent sentences. His length is slipping past your folds in such a tantalizing, delicious state, the prominent veins of his cock kissing the bumpy ridges of your walls. He was right – you’re definitely changing your perspective on pleasure because you don’t think you’ve felt this good in your life. 

With Megumi, it was mostly always about his own release. With Sukuna, he’s making sure you get to feel inch by luscious inch slipping out of you before he slides them back in, his deep moans the dirtiest thing you’ve ever heard.

“Aw, look at you,” he coos, kissing you sideways sloppily. Sukuna reaches the edges of your lips but licks at your skin anyway. His canines revealed to graze at your skin. It’s so animalistic, so carnal, and he’s fucking you with such primal need that you forget everything you once knew about sex. “Your pretty pussy is drooling for cock, sweetheart. Such a dirty little thing, taking me like this.”

Now, this was lust as its purest form, the rhythm of his hips so sinful you’ve lost faith in everything but how he’s making you feel. 

The walls are pounding with the bass boosting outside, but soon even the loud volume of the synthesized music is drowned by your whimpers. Sukuna lets go of your hair to place his hands on your hips. If he was dominant before, he only encourages you to scream his name louder, realizing that he was still being nice seconds ago, but now he’s the one controlling you. 

He pounds roughly into you until you’re crying, your drool dribbling from your lips and small patches dropping to the floor. It’s the same with your cunt. You’re so wet that you can feel squirts of cum staining his pants and your legs. Sukuna doesn’t stop praising you on how you’re so perfect, how your cunt is the tightest he’s ever fucked, and now he gets why your boy toy could never really let you go. In the middle of it all, he manages to slip in a comment that maybe Megumi’s dick isn’t big enough to stretch you out because you’re wrapped around him like a vice, to which you respond that he’s just massive.

“Fuck yeah, I am,” he agrees cockily, eyes narrowed at where his length kept being swallowed by your pussy. “I’m fucking destroying you, sweetheart. You’ll be broken by the end of this, fuck.”

His words are like ambrosia you’re getting drunk on, the filthiness of his mouth fuelling your desire. Your body heats up at the same time that familiar tingling tightens in your stomach, and you blindly stretch your arm out behind him. Sukuna easily reads your mind and takes your hand, looping his fingers with yours. His palm is right above your knuckle, and the angle hurts your arm so bad you cry harder.

“Please, please, please,” you beg him and snap your hips back to meet his dick thrust by thrust, “I’m so fucking close, please—”

“I got you, sweetheart,” he leans down for a quick peck at your hand, increasing his pace as he twitches inside you. Sukuna is thrown off rhythm by the way you grip down on his dick harder, his breath stuttering as a result. You wrap your fingers around him as your second orgasm that night crashes down onto you in waves, his cock on the brink of being spent from how you’re milking him. 

He pounds deep and slow into you, relishing in the warmth of your cunt that he’s losing his mind, basically in the same state as you are now. You’re panting and sweating, cursing at each thrust, and he stills for a moment, pulling out so fast that you wince at the emptiness. Sukuna pumps his dick with his free hand and shoots his load onto your back, his moans guttural and hoarse. You grimace at the warm cum now coating your back because there’s no way you’re using your dress to wipe that away. 

Sukuna chuckles at your silence, probably noting in the way you frown at him. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he runs a hand through his hair, his cock growing hard despite releasing a huge load. “Next time, I’ll cum in your mouth. I want to see you swallow me like a good girl.”

“Next time?” 

You think you’re so sly by scoffing at him, but Sukuna isn’t stupid. He sees the way you light up at his implications, and he walks closer to you, a hand wrapped around your throat before you pull you flush against his chest. You gasp at the lack of air, blindly patting behind you, but your hand only grazes at his cock, which twitches excitedly at the contact.

“Yeah, next time,” he affirms with a low growl, licking from your jaw down to your neck. It’s so hot, he’s so hot, and you’ve never felt this sexy in your life that you soon become on par with him, pussy clenching around nothing. “I’m not done with you yet. You’re not leaving unless I’ve changed your mind,” he teases the base of your throat to squeeze it tighter, the swift movement of him filling you once more escalating to a tenfold. Your struggle to breathe causes you to clamp down on him hard and Sukuna’s chuckles falter into a quick inhale that’s so satisfying to witness. “What do you think? Still need more demonstrations?”

“Yes,” you choke out. Sukuna’s victorious and award-winning smile is hidden at the sweaty column of your neck where he leaves little kisses in its wake, ones that soon turn into something of a harsh bite. “Yes, please, show me more. Need you, need you so bad, you fuck me better than he does.”

Sukuna does more than show you that night. He makes you feel a thousand more nerves set on fire until you’re nothing but a moaning mess. After all, what better way to change someone’s mind than to mess with it on the inside?

In the end, when it comes down to it, your lies were way too sweet – and he was too addicted to make you stop.

[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

It's been a while since I've had a nice long fic rec list cross my dash so, as my good friend said to me earlier today, I'm going to be the change I want to see.

Anyway, here are some of the in-progress Irondad fics and series been enjoying recently! (in no particular order)

❤ A Secret Or Two by Winterturtle @winter-turtle

Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings || Rated T

A single gunshot was all it took to turn the Parker family's lives upside-down. It's been rough couple of months, but Peter and May were slowly starting to pick up the pieces of their lives. For a moment, it was starting to feel normal again.

That is, until a mysterious man barged into their apartment, leading to a secret or two being revealed about both of them.

Or a (former) Shield agent May Parker fic because I couldn't find this trope anywhere.

❤ 5 times Peter Parker falls asleep in an uncomfortable position by lemonlillybee @lemonlillybee

Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings || Rated T

And 1 time he falls asleep like a normal person

❤ 5 Times Tony Tried to Be a Good Dad by InfinitesimalDna

Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings || Rated M

+1 time he knew he was.

Or, Tony trying to navigate new waters he never thought he would have to with the kid. He hopes he can handle at least one of 'em right.

❤ Social Butterfly Spidey by Jenniboo311 @jenniboo311

No Archive Warnings Apply || Rated T

A series filled with Spider-Man's adventures in social media.

❤ A New Point of View by waitingondaisies @waitingondaisies

No Archive Warnings Apply || Rated T

Peter doesn't hesitate before ditching school to go help fight the weird, purple, goo energy type stuff that's coming out of a portal over Manhattan. Perhaps he should have, though, because when he and Tony breathe the stuff in, they end up swapping bodies. With Dr. Strange not answering his phone, Peter and Tony are stuck living each others' lives for the time being. Really, though, what could go wrong?

❤ one single thread of gold by tonystarktrash

No Archive Warnings Apply || Rated M

Tony's answer to the final question of whether he would ever allow contact to be made prior to his offspring’s 18th birthday had been instinctive. Tony had checked ‘no’ and had clicked the end of the pen, satisfied by a job well done. A quiet voice at the back of his mind, the voice of his mother, had caused him to scribble over ‘no’ until the bottom of the page was almost entirely consumed by ink. Then, his handwriting cramped but legible, Tony had written yes — in case of medical emergencies or death of legal guardian(s).

a drunken dare made six years ago leads to a phone call that changes tony stark's life.

❤ Catch Your Own Happiness by truelovetakesawhile

Archive Warnings Apply! || Rated M

When Tony finds a strange, spidery experiment locked underground in a Hydra facility, he takes it upon himself to try rehabilitating a teenager who knows nothing about the outside world.

❤ The ghost at the back of your closet by niniblack @niniblack

Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings || Rated M

The DODC makes good on their threat to charge May with child endangerment, sending Peter into foster care. But in a universe where Tony Stark is still alive, his actions have repercussions as well, and May Parker isn’t the only one fighting to get custody of her child back.

Meanwhile, Peter’s left completely alone and unable to contact any of his loved ones, trying to navigate a system he thought he’d left behind after his aunt and uncle picked him up a few weeks after his parents’ deaths. And he’s absolutely not going to let anything like what happened to him happen to Morgan, no matter what he has to do to make sure she’s safe.

❤ Tales from the Tower MedBay by Call_Me_Coley @call-me-coley

No Archive Warnings Apply || Rated G

Also known as “MedBay Adventures” with a specific focus on Irondad and Spiderson, and of course some Avengers and Ironfam will be stopping by!

Or

A series of unrelated drabbles and oneshots that revolve around the Tower’s MedBay cuz if we’re being honest, you know those walls have got some stories to tell.

Please be sure to leave these amazing authors' comments and kudos!

Also! Stay tuned for a 'completed multi-chapter' and 'one-shot' rec list in the future!

[jaqobis]

cut for possible spoilers through the end of the series and for length. as i said the last time i made a mulling post like this: if you really enjoyed sanderson’s takes in the last three books, more power to you, but this post isn’t for you.

the thing is, and one of the reasons why sanderson books rand sounds so jarringly different to me, that rand has always been focused on the small scale kind of doing good. 

yes, he’s destined to save (or doom) the world. but even as he gains influence, he never forgets where he came from and that shapes his sensibilities. he wants to help normal people. he founds schools and uncritically throws money at them so people can experiment with their oddball projects. he refuses to favor work that’s more likely to succeed than others, what’s wrong with letting people try? he especially likes the inventions that have immediate practical relevance to common peoples’ lives. he changes laws everywhere he goes to hold the rich nobility accountable for their actions and protect the poor. he reforms tax laws to take undue burden off the poor. he donates surplus grain to the hungry instead of letting the rich try to greedily make themselves richer with it. he cleanses saidin so other boys born with the spark aren’t doomed to madness and death the way he is, so it isn’t such a negative influence on the world. as late as knife of dreams, where he’s apparently right on the cusp of becoming darth rand, he gives gold to random poor kids on the street and learns their names and terrorizes shitty nobles into making sure those kids are looked after. it’s less blatant than in mat’s or perrin’s povs, but he has no particular love for nobility as a social class, either; whenever he thinks about or talks to nobles, besides the very few who prove themselves genuinely worthwhile to him, there’s a distinct undercurrent of distaste. the entire reason he starts going down the road of tyrannical behavior is the rich and influential of tear resisting his genuinely good reforms because they might suddenly be held accountable for their behavior. he gets so angry at that one guy that he physically throws the man out of his rooms and guts his treasury because that guy keeps trying to position himself to take advantage of, likely including sexually, berelain. he is constantly worrying about loial not overexerting himself and risking the longing, even at detriment to his own plans and needs.

the sanderson assertion that rand pivots into not caring about the people around him, other people at all, is incredibly left field after all of this! the sanderson assertion that rand stalks around feeling unappreciated for doing ~ amazing things ~ like cleansing saidin and boasting internally or externally about his accomplishments is incredibly left field after loial, as recently as knife of dreams, complains that rand makes all the cool stuff he’s done sound boring and only highlights the accomplishments of other people. you never mention heroics, except by somebody else. you make it all sound so everyday. rand inherently doesn’t seem himself as heroic or special and never has. (the arrogance he wrestles with in later books is a different problem.) he doesn’t need a meditation on dragonmount to remember how to care about other people; he never forgot. he’s struggled with the fear of death, but he’s been willing to die for others since the beginning and has risked that — even tried — multiple times. 

something i’ve said before is that i feel like he took what were coping mechanisms and trauma responses and made them into conscious choices rand can just, do or not do. rand doesn’t talk about far madding or the box forging him into something stronger because he specifically went into either experience looking for that, or even because he exited either experience actually feeling stronger. he needed to give his pain purpose. he needed to keep himself going when he was trapped for hours in a box or a cell with no hope of rescue. he confused dissociation and cold decision-making with strength. 

speaking of the box, while i’ve complained about min telling people about what rand went through there, let’s be honest: the entire reason the narrative had min do that was because rand doesn’t talk about the box. he specifically doesn’t want people to know about it. he can’t even bring himself to talk about it with the people he loves most, even the people who were there. rand never talks about the box, and then in book 12 he suddenly can’t stop talking about it or comparing situations to it. cadsuane or someone has a line about “that box he keeps talking about” and i laughed disbelievingly because from books 7-11 he didn’t, but now abruptly he is. he apparently cites the box for reasons he’s against personally experimenting with the a’dam, as if he hasn’t deliberately put himself in triggering situations multiple times (sneaking into a camp as a prisoner with his hands tied and face covered, being in dark rooms in general and not putting on lights for his own comfort) and/or found himself in triggering situations and either tried to power through (the crowded room when he travels into the stone in knife of dreams) or left without ever explaining the problem (the small room on the sea folk ship while trying to strike the Bargain).

i’ve always felt like rand was a subversion of the power fantasy in a lot of ways, whereas sanderson’s books play it straight. he’d get into scary situations and be vulnerable or unsure of what to do, or get in over his head, and always came out with realistic trauma to the experiences. he doesn’t actually kill sammael when he goes to take illian, instead semi-accidentally mercy killing liah. killing rahvin took help from nynaeve. he’s rarely personally successful in the battlefield; despite dramatically carrying a sword around for several chapters beforehand he doesn’t even see couladin on the battle for cairhien, and when he wields callandor against the seanchan he kills as many of his own men as theirs. he gets injured frequently, usually but not exclusively from his old wound tearing open. he usually gets slapped down by the narrative pretty quickly for his acts of hubris. and yet he goes into and out of fights in the last three books without a scratch, let alone any inconvenience from the old wound, single-handedly killing tons of trollocs and other Heroic acts. he’s basically Too Powerful for literal double digits of aes sedai to shield. 

being the dragon reborn is horror, and the last three books really seem to forget that. rand’s entire story is defined by his identity horror: he’s constantly grappling with the names and titles people put on him, on being the figure of change that the Pattern demands of him. he has no choice about bringing discord and chaos wherever he goes. his ta’veren effects, which were equally positive and horrifying from books 2-11, become categorizable as either objectively Good or Bad based on...his mental state? i know it gets explained away as him being a Counter to the dark one’s negative effects on the pattern, but it’s undeniably a one-line explanation for a huge change from the first eleven books. by the last book rand’s wondering why he never considered learning to Heal before and why he always did destructive things as if he or the narrative simply forgot, under the last author, that he could. when the narrative was clear that he couldn’t. the dragon reborn wasn’t spun out to Heal or fix things, he was very literally born to break things and enact change. it was, i always felt, incredibly deliberate that while rand was always powerful he was specifically strong in firepower. i cannot imagine that he was being written without any notion of trying to learn Healing, while surrounded by some of the strongest healers of the Age, by accident. 

i’ve talked about this before, but i can’t make a post about rand’s writing between the two authors without bringing up the handling of disability. rand’s struggle with his mental health is a huge part of the character. rand’s chronic wounds and chronic pain are a huge part of the character. i’ve personally found it incredibly impactful to read a fantasy protagonist doing fantasy protagonist things while the narrative kept a pulse on his pain levels such that the reader knows what they are at any given time. it would’ve been really impactful to see him work at and learn how to adjust his lifestyle to having one hand. it’s a goddamn shame that this part of the character was sidelined and forgotten and arguably demonized by the narrative at the very end.

rand has struggled with agency from day one. i’ve touched on this elsewhere in this post, but a huge prevailing theme is the tension between what he’s destined to be and who he is and wants to be. in the second book, verin’s telling him that he probably can’t die until the Pattern is finished with him, and we see this to be the case over and over. we see how he pushes back against being controlled or manipulated or even well-meaningly reined in. we see his recurring i will not be used in the early books. this is a huge source of his trauma and pathos. it’s therefore wildly jarring that his issues with agency are not only moved out of the spotlight in the sandersons, but retroactively explained away multiple times. rand does this! moiraine does this! one can’t help assuming we’re meant to believe they’re both right, speaking from the wisdom of hindsight, especially because the rand that says it wasn’t a desire for independence that drove me but a fear of irrelevance has just returned from dragonmount — the same man who shines so brightly as to reveal darkfriends and who has flowers blooming in his wake. he’s Good Now, so presumably he’s saying what the reader is meant to believe. 

some differences in character writing come down to style, of course, but the more i think about it, the more i attribute to take. and in the spirit of fairness: all of the above is, of course, my take. but the impression of the character i get in rj’s versus bs’s hands read for the most part like two very different people.

[ravenclaw-daydreams]

Hear me out: Jonathan Crane, yandere style.

𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭

Warnings: Yandere themes, violence, some NSFW under the cut, adult themes, obsessive behavior, some non-con mentioned.

Masterlist

Summary: A compilation of what Dr. Jonathan Crane would be like as a yandere, using this template.

A/N: Oh my god, anon, you dirty bean, I love you. This was a really good idea and got the wheels turning, especially working on my Antidote series. Thank you <3

- Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Knowing Crane, he's a normally unemotional person, his face normally housing a cold, unreadable expression. But with his darling, all that melts away, the rare sight of a smile crossing his lips when he finally has them alone. Being a very touch starved man, it would be hard for him to keep his hands off them. Cuddling becomes the norm.

- Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Jonathan will do anything, and I mean anything, to keep his darling safe and happy, (even if happiness is secondary). Working for who he's worked for in the past, he has connections to just about everything in Gotham. Their bike goes missing? A new one is delivered to them the next day from an anonymous buyer. Barista rude to them while they order? They disappear the next day. He would kill and die for them. Not to mention, he always loves new test subjects.

- Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Even if Crane can get affectionate, he doesn't tolerate disobedience. If they don't act accordingly, at first he'll find it amusing. He can get quite mean when he mocks you for your pleas of release. But soon, it really starts to piss him off. Why are they asking about their family? They shouldn't have to worry about them. Why are they trying to negotiate release? Can't they see that this is what's best?

- Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

As stated before, Crane truly is a touch-starved man. After his mother, deep down he craves nothing more than the affectionate touch of someone he believes loves him. He'll try and hold them, no matter how much they squirm and protest. It's an easy fix with rope and ducktape. He'll just hold their head to his chest until darling finally gets tired of fighting and eventually starts to fall asleep in his hold. He would never have sex with darling without consent. But that won't stop him from waking them up with head every once and a while just to hear the sweet noises that fall from their lips. He lives off them.

- Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He won't expose anything without being asked about it. Eventually, one evening, while holding them, the darling will start to ask about him. (Seeing as there's not much else to talk about). In that case, if darling wants to know about his past, they'll have to ask the right questions. But he'll answer them without fail. After all, if he expects trust from his darling, he has to give that trust back.

- Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Crane is at first amused, as with most things, but it gets old quickly. Of course, these issues can always be solved with tape and rope (as stated before) but he would rather not. He wouldn't retaliate with violence, but rather reprimand. He doesn't see it as violence. A slap across the face and a harsh talking to should set them straight.

- Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Crane would feel betrayed if their darling actually got close to escaping. They never would, he made sure of that, but actions speak louder than words. He would be like ??? you were just sleeping in my lap and now you're trying to leave out the barred window??? He knows eventually the attempts will stop, but it still hurts.

- Hell: What would be their darling’s worse experience with them?

Punishment. Let me explain. Remember how I said that he would get tired of disobedience? This is one of the causes of the darling taking it just a little too far. Sometimes he'll withhold food and water. But the worse is when he gives his darling microdoses of the fear gas. Nothing enough to damage them, but just enough to manipulate them. He'll put them in a closed space, dose them up, then he'll swoop in with antidote and basically 'save' the darling, telling them that this is what happens when he isn't there to help them.

- Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He sees them with a normal life away from Gotham. He's a professor and darling is working from home. They're married and have a pet if darling so wishes. They live in a large house, and an extremely comfortable life, living the rest of their days in peace and tranquility, something that Crane has always secretly yearned for.

- Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

On one of the rare nights he lets them watch something on the television, he might see a change in demeanor when they look at a certain actor or actress, and maybe try and divert their attention by kissing gently on their weak spots until the scene is over or until he claims to get bored and change the movie altogether.

- Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He never wants darling to see him the way he is while he's 'working'. He only wants them to see him when he can give them comfort and be as kind as they were before they were kidnapped. He wants them to see that they aren't so different and that they can trust him.

- Love Letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

He'll see how kind his darling is and act accordingly during the first time meeting. He'll occasionally "run into them", but it's all planned. He'll make friendly conversation but never for too long. That's when he gets the idea to take them.

- Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

He puts on a cocky, cold, know-it-all persona in front of people, and in truth, that's how he really is. But with darling, he does his best to put the most appealing traits at the forefront. Rarely does he act the way he does with others in front of darling. In his eyes, everyone else is inferior, but darling is an equal.

- Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

(please see letter H for explanation)

- Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Depending on how darling was acting. Food and water aren't always on the table but that's a possibility. He'll limit the amount of media they have and how much they get to touch him. (He teaches them that being able to be in his arms is a privilege and the only way they'll truly feel at peace.)

- Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

He can only have so much. It wanes quicker than he would like to admit, but he considers himself modestly levelheaded for the most part. If the darling is truly having trouble understanding something, he'll be there as long as it takes for them to finally understand.

- Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

The only way Crane's darling would ever escape is if they died. And in that case, he would completely shut down. If someone killed darling, he would kill the perpetrator slowly and without mercy, driving them insane, chopping them up while their conscious, that kinda thing. Then he would proceed to kill everything that even met the one who took his darling away, but he would make the killer watch. If the darling opted out on their own, he wouldn't be able to bear it, resulting in him doing the same. He just couldn't imagine a world without his little doll in it.

- Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Crane is confident in his decision to kidnap his darling. And if they start to understand more, the more they'll be able to have. They might even be able to attend events with Crane or be left home alone. But only when he sees fit, until then, they aren't getting a moment of alone time.

- Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Crane just wanted someone to love him. That's all he's ever wanted. His mother was a stale, mean old mule, causing him to put on a facade of carelessness when it came to showing emotion. But with darling, he can finally get what he always wanted.

- Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry and/or isolate themselves?

It pulls at his heart and makes him feel like he failed. He'll desperately try to console them, (with limits), and he'll do anything to see a pretty smile cross their lips. He hates seeing them in such a state. It kills him.

- Unique: Would they ever do anything different from the classic yandere?

It may seem strange, but Crane always wants his darling to look their best. He'll dress them up in expensive garments. If the darling is feminine, he'll dress them up in a pretty white slip that makes them look like an angel. His own little perfect angel. If the darling is masculine, he'll dress them up in sweatpants and one of his shirts. He adores seeing his darling in his clothes.

- Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

If the darling can somehow get their hands on fear gas, that would be the only way they could escape. Crane's fear disorientates him, obviously, and he'll retreat in on himself, letting himself sink into his mind. But truth be told, he will find them, and when he does, it won't be enjoyable for either of them.

- Wit’s End: Would they ever hurt their darling?

He wouldn't consider it hurting them, he would consider it helping. Discipline. Like an adult would a child. He knows he could never hurt the darling, but is it really hurting them if it's helping them?

- Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

The moment that darling starts to give in (especially sexually), he worships their body. He'll take his time making them feel loved and listened to. He'll pay attention to their weak spots and what spots make them make what sounds. He takes great pleasure in finally being able to ruin them, and at first, sex with him is soft and passionate, but it quickly turns hot and desperate, and let me tell you, he'd never cum that hard in his entire life.

- Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Much longer than anyone would expect. Usually, Crane has a tendency to act with his gut, especially when it comes to darling. My guess is maybe half a year because he has to map out every possible escape route so then he doesn't lose them.

- Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Eventually, he would make them understand that there's no other way they'll live their life. That this is the way that it will always be, so they might as well accept it. He'll make sure that once the darling comes to the 'realization', he'll give them all the love they deserve, finally happy to have his little doll.

.

.

(Not spell checked or edited)

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

•End Point•

(Au idea! Inspired by Self Aware/Cult Au/God Au/Yandere Au!)

"In the olden days of Tevyat, they said there was a God that took away Archos or God's powers. The rumors say that the creature would watch from underneath the land you walk on. Or in the smoke or shadows in the sky. Always watching, waiting, hunting. The creatures had made sure that the gods that once lived were no more."

"They say they killed them, others say that they ate the remains of the gods like a dog. No one knows, yet people had realized that the creature had killed humans as well. Infants, childern, adults and even the elderly."

"Not many say what it looks like. For no one truly knows. It changes: is what others say."

The old man told the blonde headed traveler. Seeing the once passive expression turn real quick. His floating companion holding the collar of the male travlers clothing. Quivering in utter fear at the old man's words. "W-w-w-what!?" Paimon screams in horror.

The old man merely nods. Uncaring of the two's anxiousness. "Yes, sad as it may sound. We all meet are maker in the end." The man had said, his saggy skin hanging off his frail bones.

"The way I look at it, I would suggest you start finishing up your quests and start doing what you really want. Hahaa.." The old man said with a laugh, his saddening words impacting Aether deeply. "R-right." The young male replied, watching the old fellow head into the crowd of consumers in the town market.

A woman adorn in a black cloak follows after the man. Aether sees this and rushes after them, a uneasy feeling tightened in his stomach. Accidently pushing people aside so he wouldn't lose track of them. Ignoring their curses or shrieks at his actions. Paimon floats after her friend, wondering what was happening in that head of his.

Aether readies his sword, his heart pounding as he tries to reach the endpoint.

-

Finally meeting a standstill, the young traveler stares at the beautiful being in anguish. Collapsing to the ground in exhaustion, his labored breaths falling quiet. Watching as the woman lifting up her sythe; ready to land the final blow of his life. He expected her to kneel down and rip his soul out through his chest. Just liked she had done to the old man. Or decapitate him with the sliver of her blade.

Instead, she said a few words a mile a minute like a rush of whispers. The tone filled with kindness and sympathy, yet sounded hollow with a echo.

"Get up. Your journey isn't over. I'm sorry."

Aether could barely breathe, the air had stilled as the smell of flowers had turned sour. Suffocating-!

Coughing and choking through it all, he blinks his eyes and everything around was back to normal. The only thing different was the man he followed was on the ground. No longer alive as bits of bugs had started to devour bits of his skin.

Aether doesn't get up as he pukes out a bit of his lunch, along with black hints of ashes and black tar. Heaving a breath, happy tears fall from his rosy cheeks. Uncaring if Paimon was there or not. For Aether had more than one reason to keep going...

To find the God or Archon of DEATH.

(Here you guys go! A new Au! Yay! This idea sprung from a bunch of fanfics and so this little fic was born. If this gets a enough positive feed back it could become another series like [The Songs That Traveled Across The World]. Anyway hope ya'll enjoy! Please send in asks and have a good day! More characters will be added)

[ravenrune]

Hi hello i have to ask bc this is all i crave right now... do you have any soft headcanons or scenarios for loving wesker?? Im love this man a lot and just... soft domestic stuff is my shit, man. Thank u!!

I like it! I'll keep him in character as much as possible, but soften him up a bit. So less psychopathic, I suppose. Warnings: Refers to sex once, but no actual sexual content. I got carried away again. Hope you'll like it, I gave it my best shot!

∞ Since Wesker cares a lot about you, he does his best to be respectful, patient and attentive. Whereas normally he'd show people the door the moment they would test his patience, he doesn't do that when you disagree with him, or when take your sweet time getting something done. He may say something every once in a while that might be hurtful, but it's not his intention. So if you tell him he made you feel unsafe, uncomfortable or unheard, he will apologise and ensure it never happens again.

∞ Whatever you tell Wesker, he will remember it. He'll remember everything you like, everything you dislike, everything you ever want to try. He'll remember it and, when the time is right, use it to show you he cares.

∞ So you wanted to give that one hobby a go? Wesker will be on it real fast. You'll be trying something new in no time. ∞ You hate that one food item? He'll make sure you never have to eat it. He'll even complain at a restaurant if your dish contains said food. ∞ You want a specific pet? You'll have it, perhaps even more than one. That is, if it is responsible to keep it in the house, of couse. ∞ He cares about a pet's well-being too!

∞ He loves taking you out for dinner and introducing you to all the of the different cuisines the world has to offer. It makes him happy, because he feels like he gets to live a little more by spending time and sharing things with you.

∞ Wesker likes to fuss over you. He's concerned with your well-being and will make sure you eat enough and stay hydrated. He'll also make sure there is healthy food available at all times.

∞ Wesker will be affectionate. Not always in public, but definitely when you're alone with him. He doesn't mind if you sit in his lap when he's working at his laptop. He also doesn't mind cuddling on the couch. You will get random kisses throughout the day. He was never the type to watch a lot of television, unless it was educational, but if you want to watch a specific series or film, he'll happily join you if he has the time. Hell, he'll even try to play a video game with you, if you want him to! He's not very good at them, though...

∞ He won't leave you alone when you're sick. He will cancel whatever appointments he may have and just work from home. He'll make sure you take your meds on time, and that you have water and digestible food available at all times.

∞He'll also annoy you with random check-ups, like checking your pulse, oxygen saturation and temperature. If anything changes, he'll either take action, or take you to a hospital. He might be a bit extreme when it comes to this sort of thing...

∞ Wesker will be very supportive of whatever you decide to do with your life. He wants you to succeed in something you really enjoy doing, and will make sure to motivate you, help you out, and offer advice whenever he can. If you need some help achieving your goals, he'll happily be there for you. And if he can't help you, he'll find someone who can.

∞ When it comes to sex, he has his preferences. However, he's extremely open-minded and willing to try whatever you come up with. He will also respect you when there's something you don't want to do. No means no. Wesker not only understands it, he encourages you to be open with him about it.

∞ Really, he encourages you to be open with him about everything. He may not always know what to say or do, but he'll be there for you regardless.

∞ At the end of the day, when you're in bed before you go to sleep, he likes to talk. He wants to know what you've been up to, what's on your mind, whatever things have brought you either joy or sadness that day. He listens very attentively, lightly caressing your back while you lie snuggled up against him. He may share bits and pieces about his own days, but he does make sure to keep certain things a secret, as he really doesn't want to drive you away from him.

∞ He will continue caressing your back until you fall asleep with your head in the crook of his neck and your arm draped around his waist. When you've fallen asleep, he'll gently kiss your forehead and try to take a nap himself.

∞ However, even if he can't sleep, he will still manage to relax. The sound of your breathing is one of the very few things in life that makes him feel warm and comfortable on the inside. He's learnt to treasure those moments, as they're quite new to him, and he's not sure what he would do without them anymore.