#I wish I was faster at drawing so I could just put out more of these two on here I want to share more not just have it all in my brain augh

[r-aindr0p]

Don't worry Rook's a philantropist he will help you aim better next time, perhaps...

No dialog version under the cut

[asaarii]

ft: mainstream!mark and variants (mohawk, viltrum, omni, sheisty, sinister) (invincible) reader: fem wc: 2604 summary: hey siri is it gay to want to crack the female version of my dead best friend? cw: canon typical violence, foul language, and the variants are kinda sorta freaky in this requested by: @sophsthebest

this was so fun to write lowk and I would've been done faster if not for the blood moon event in dbd so err yeah I'm going to go die in a hole now

Life is strange, really. 

One moment, you’re helping refold shirts because some people don’t even have the decency to put stuff back to where they found it, and the next, an international warning tells you to stay inside because there are evil variants of your boyfriend now roaming the Earth with unclear intentions.

You share a look with your coworker, who looks just as off-put by the information, her fingers curling around her phone as her brow dips. Just as her lips part to speak, the first building falls. It’s only a few blocks away, and the ground beneath your feet trembles at its sudden collapse.

You hear the screams of those out on the street, internally debating whether or not to follow suit until a notification from Mark lights up your screen, the ridiculous nickname you’d set when you were twelve a small comfort to your racing heart.

MarkyWarky: please tell me you’re okay

You: i’m fine

You: i’m just scared mark 

You: why are there so many versions of you anyway…

MarkyWarky: i wish i could tell you

MarkyWarky: just stay put alright im otw

The message does little to soothe, and you can’t help but stare at your screen with nothing but apprehension. Your coworker is quick to seize you by the arm when the sound of collapsing buildings and wailing cars draws closer, ushering you into the break room with the floor manager as though the small, unwindowed room would protect you from the raw strength of a Viltrumite.

“Holy shit, we’re gonna die…We’re actually going to die…” The floor manager, Kasandra, curls into herself with tears already welled in her eyes as she chokes back a sob. No one says anything, unable to face the grim reality at steak when debris begins to crumble around you. You all huddle into the furthest corner as your hope in Mark begins to wane.

Small pieces of rubble hit your head as you tuck your head tightly into Kasandra’s shaking shoulder, the lights overhead flickering violently when the ceiling begins to cave in on itself. There’s no use holding back the tears now and you can’t hide your anguished cries, unheard over the collapsing infrastructure.

This is it, you think, mentally saying your goodbyes to everyone you’ve grown to love. Amber. Eve. William. Mark—oh, Mark. The annoying boy next door who grew to be your first love. 

Sparks flare as the light above you finally collapses, but you don’t feel a throbbing pain in your head or death’s cold embrace, instead, you find yourself wrapped in a familiar pair of arms, still clinging to an almost catatonic Kasandra while your coworker grips the forearm wrapped around the three of you.

“I’ve got you,” a voice in your ear says, and you can feel the tears begin to well once more, though, this time out of relief. Mark is quick to shoot from the rubble, hold unwavering before he sets the three of you down and urges you to run to safety.

Your two coworkers are quick to flee, but you stupidly linger, worry etched onto your features at the sight of Mark’s beaten face and tattered suit. In the distance, you can see Eve facing valiantly against a variant, the odd cloth mask adorned on his face his most defining trait. She pants, her palms facing outward to just barely raise a shield against his erratic punches.

Mark pulls your attention back to him, face pinched as his thumb traces your lower lip in an attempt to ground both you and himself. His lips are soft against your forehead for a brief moment before he pulls back, staring at you through his cracked goggles with an emotion you can’t quite place. 

“I love you,” you whisper, stroking his bruised cheek softly.

“I love you too. But, you need to go. Now. I’ll check on you soon, promise.”

So, you run as fast as your legs can carry you, doing your best to ignore the ruins and corpses that seem to block every turn.

You don’t get far.

A shadow overhead blocks the sun—its presence so oppressive and commandeering that it freezes you in place.

“Another survivor?” 

You can’t bring yourself to turn despite the way your heart lurches at the familiarity of the voice. Your breath hitches when the shadow lowers—whatever twisted version of Mark this is drawing ever closer like a lion to its prey.

“I thought those other two were the last of them, but what’s one more?” The voice is cold, almost clinical, very unlike the warmth that radiated off of your Mark. A glove is quick to find purchase on your throat, and you glance down to see the red rubber shining beneath the sun.

Blood coats the hand, tinting the glove an even darker shade of red than what you’d first surmised. You try not to think about the warmth of it as his grip grows tighter, making it harder to breathe, but not enough to kill, like he’s messing with you in some cruel, twisted way.

“You’re this dimension’s girlfriend, aren’t you?” His lips press against the shell of your ear, jerking your body to face the fight between Mark and the clothed one from before alongside Eve, who reaches out to you weakly before eventually crashing against the side of one of the buildings. Your Mark wheezes, clutching at his chest when the cloth-masked variant throws him into a nearby building by the hair. “Pathetic.”

The sound barrier tears as another Mark enters the fray, his mohawk wild and unkempt in the wind as he grins at the sight of battle, though there’s no amusement behind his smile. “Who the hell do you think you are running off like that?” For a moment, his wild eyes slip to where you and your captor reside, a flicker of…something flashing through his before it fizzles away. “Keeping hostages alive? Didn’t peg you for the cruel type.”

You barely register the click of the Invincible’s tongue over the roaring beat of your heart, his thumb remaining stationary over your pulse point; a warning. He could snap your neck at any given moment, and you don’t know what’s stopping him, but you’re grateful for whatever’s causing him to hesitate.

“Come on, just put her out of her misery already,” the mohawked Mark goads with a small shrug as he pulls his fist back to punch your Mark into the concrete when the cloth-masked variant throws him in his direction. Cracks split beneath your feet at the sheer force, the ground almost giving way, but all you can do is watch as your Mark slowly gets up from the crater his body had formed. 

He locks eyes with you, something snapping inside of him at the sight of the variant clad in a suit nearly identical to Omni-Man’s wrapping his hand around your throat.

“[Name]!” He calls out, bursting free from the grasp of the two other Marks with a renewed sense of vigor. 

Time seems to freeze the moment your name leaves his bloodied lips, the Mark holding you hostage too stunned to react when your Mark’s fist collides with his jaw hard enough to send him three blocks away. It isn’t long until you’re swept into Mark’s arms, the hold both protective and possessive as he glares at the other two, his chest heaving with each labored breath he struggles to take.

“No fuckin’ way.” The mohawked variant blinks slowly, his lips pulling into a mix of a grimace and a smirk. “That’s unfair on so many levels.” He turns to the Mark in a cloth mask who seems to share the same sentiment, mumbling under his breath about how unfair it is that this version of him gets the hot babe.

Omni-Man Mark merely scoffs when he floats back, his suit still pristine as though he’d never been thrown at all while he crosses his arms over his chest, scrutinizing the way you tremble in this version of him’s hold. You aren’t the best friend he’d killed mercilessly back in his dimension. Here, you were a woman—his woman. And he’d be damned if he couldn’t kill two birds with one stone.

A best friend and a wife. Who would’ve thought?

While he’d never seen the other, male, version of you in a romantic light, his heart stirs at the thought of taking this version of you for himself. It’s not like it’ll take much to kill this Mark; he’s already as good as dead anyway—

“Is everything alright here?” Clad in white and silver, yet another version of Mark descends from the sky like some sort of disgraced angel. 

“Ugh, why are you here?” Mohawk Mark rolls his eyes obnoxiously, his gaze only briefly flickering to the new variant.

“Angstrom sent me to see if you all were sticking to the plan, which clearly you aren’t.”

“Aww, the lil’Viltrum baby can’t do anything without a mission? How sad!” He bats his lashes dramatically before sneering. “What are you gonna do next, bark? Who gives a shit about the plan? You’re acting as if you weren’t gonna kill him after anyway!” 

The Mark in the Viltrum uniform chooses not to dignify him with a response.

Unbothered by his counterpart’s nonchalance, the mohawked Mark sets his sights back on you, spreading his arms wide as if to welcome you in with a hug. “Hey, [Name], it’s just me. Just Mark. Your best friend, remember? We used to play CoD and shit when your parents were out.”

Viltrum Mark’s brows furrow at the familiar name, steady gaze finally paying you mind as you try to sink further into the Mark of this dimension’s arms. You’re a lot…softer than he recalls you being, your form far less filled out; almost feminine. But, that couldn’t be right, right? How cruel would it be for this version of him to have the perfect mate whilst he, while grateful for your prior companionship, was stuck with nothing more than a best friend? One that he’d ultimately killed for resisting.

Surely, his brain is playing tricks on him.

Then he hears it—they all hear it.

The small terrified whimper you let out, the sound almost heavenly as you try to curl into Mark like your life depends on it. Which you suppose it does at this very moment.

A collective groan settles across all the present variations of Mark, all differing levels of arousal. They can practically taste the fear emanating off of you, stalking closer like a pack of deranged wolves.

Disgust pulls at Mark’s lips at the look in their eyes, his arms trembling around you as the last line of defense between you and these monstrous versions of him. “What the hell are you guys on about?” He seethes, only to be met by a suffocating silence.

Viltrum Mark appears in front of you before you and Mark can process his presence, tearing you out of your boyfriend’s arms despite your screaming protests. His grip is firm, but it’s the underlying softness in it that has you trembling with both fear and confusion. One of his hands finds your chin, stroking the contour of your jaw while his thumb gently presses down on your lower lip in a similar fashion that your Mark had done earlier.

“You’re [Name].” His face twists with perplexion as he speaks. “But, you’re so soft.” You feel his other hand fall from your arm, settling on your hip as if to prove a point. He squeezes and prods the fat, slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt to feel the soft skin underneath, his fingers splaying against your stomach while his nose buries itself in your neck. “You’d be a great mother.”

No.

No.

No.

This can’t be happening—

You’re pulled into another set of arms. These ones leaner yet more possessive than the Viltrum Mark’s. But not yours.

“Jesus what the fuck is wrong with you.” Mohawk Mark’s voice rasps mockingly above you, his arm curling around you and dangerously close to your breasts. You know he feels your heart stop, snorting cruelly as he pulls you flush against him. His gloved hand tilts your chin up to him cruelly, relishing in the way tears well in your eyes.

“P-Please…” You weakly claw at his wrist despite knowing how useless it is in comparison to his innate strength.

Holy fuck, he could get used to the sound of that.

Man, why couldn’t you be a girl in his world too? Oh, the things he would do to you. How he would ruin you. He wonders if you’re similar to his [Name], the [Name] who trusted him to do the right thing only to die trying to stop what’s already been done. Do you play the same sport as your male counterpart? Enjoy the same food? Ah, whatever, you’re still his, no matter his relation to you. Best friend or otherwise.

“Get away from her you fucking freak!” Your Mark’s garbled voice reaches your ears, his fist colliding with the side of the mohawked variant’s head, sending him careening into the white-clad Viltrumite. Mark doesn’t even get the chance to look over you before he shoots into the air with you in his hold, tucking your head into his shoulder as he whispers calming words into the crown of your head. “I’ve got you, baby,” he echoes his prior sentiment, flying as fast as he can with the cloth-mask and Omni-Man wannabe hot on his tail.

A familiar red glove catches Mark’s leg, snapping it easily. Mark screams, his teeth grinding as he pivots his other leg directly into the variant’s face, no doubt breaking his nose before he crashes into the cloth-masked Mark, who yells obscenities as the two of them crash into the city below.

Finally, silence settles between the two of you. Heavy with confusion. Heavy with fear.

“What the hell was that…” You cling to him, trembling like a newborn fawn in his hold.

“I—I don’t know.” He buries his nose in your neck as he lowers into a desolate field miles away from any civilization, breathing in your comforting scent beneath the smell of iron and ash that seem to cling to your skin while he settles against a tree. The field is peaceful; untouched by the destruction that plagues the rest of the world.

“...What about Eve and the others?” You hesitate, palms hovering over his broken leg to do your best to put the limb back together. The bone melds back together grotesquely, it's disgusting snap a sound you think you’ll never get used to.

“Eve slipped away before things got ugly. I’m not too sure about the others…” He lets out a low hiss, his fingers digging into the ground when his skin gets pulled tautly back into place. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I won’t let them get to you, not as long as I’m still breathing, alright?”

“Okay,” you breathe out, collapsing into his chest as you try not to think about everything you’ve lost in such a short amount of time. He kisses your forehead gently, leaning back against the tree for only a moment of respite.

“Aww, what a cute sight.” A patronizing voice overhead has both of you snapping your heads to the sound. Clad in yellow and black with a billowing cape behind him, this version of Mark sneers, his gaze looking between you and Mark. His brows raise beneath his mask, lips forming something akin to a sadistic grin. “Well, well, well. You’re looking a bit different here, aren’t you, [Name]?”

Shit.

©asarii 2025 — do not copy, steal, repost, or translate any of my works on tumblr or any other site or run my works through ai

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @themetalhiro

Hi, I’m Metal! I’m a freelance artist from good ol’ New Jersey. My favorite things to work with are a lot of bright colors, exaggerated poses, and candid scenarios. I try to farm sensible chuckles whenever I can, so I’m also big into comics. I love making them about my life, and the media I’m into, and one day I’d like to publish my own series!  Thank you to everyone who has gotten me this far!!

Check out Metal's interview below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I guess so! It’s funny, I don’t remember a single time in my life that I wasn’t drawing as a hobby… somewhere in middle school (a little late, I know.) I put the pieces together that animated movies were made by artists, and that it wasn’t just for fun, they were paid to do it. The moment I discovered people could be paid to make art, I decided I would do that, too. Now I’m here!

How has your style developed over the years?

I think the best way to answer this would be with an example! Over the last few years, I have made more of an effort to draw more intentionally, which sounds silly. Now, I put more thought into my poses and step out of my comfort zone with shape language and composition. I had a phase where I drew everyone with a huge, perfectly circular head and no nose. That definitely did not lend much variety...

Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?

Ack! I’m so terrible at history! I’d love to give a well-thought-out answer about fine artists of old, but I don't think we’d have much in common… Most artists I admire and who have driven me forward creatively are the people behind comics I’ve read. Andrew Hussie, Bryan Lee O’Malley, Eiichiro Oda... these guys have inspired me greatly and had a heavy influence in developing my art style and sense of humor. I’d love to ask them questions about their processes and upcoming projects. I think it would make for an entertaining night!

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

Outside of pure aesthetics like searing bright colors, layered clothing, and loud noises…. the best and most inspiring moments in my life were those surrounded by friends and loved ones! I cherish the hell out of memories of hanging around in fun locations, trying weird food together, and impromptu midnight walks... so I try my best to capture that atmosphere and my own memories in my work when I can, even if I’m imposing fictional characters on top of them. That’s always the core of it.

What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

I would never permanently refuse a medium, but every time I pick up clay, I’m like a baby using its hands for the first time. Absolutely dreadful. If one day I could make and paint a figurine like the ones I admire in videos, that would be awesome... But for now, I’m not counting on it.

How do you want to evolve as a creator?

I’ve had an absolute blast drawing fanart over the years, and it’s certainly played a massive role in my growth as an artist. But my dream has always been to publish my own stories for y'all to enjoy! I have lots of worlds I want to introduce to you before I’m old and gray. I want to get faster, work harder, and get better at drawing interesting settings so I can get the wheels turning as soon as possible. I also want to stop avoiding the color blue like a coward.

What do you wish you knew when you first started out creating art that you know now?

Pay your taxes quarterly. Tablets will break at the exact moment you need them most, so have a spare. Wear your blue light glasses. You’re going to need to wear a brace on every joint on the right side of your body. It can be lonely sitting at your desk all day. The car on the side of the road that costs $1000 cash….. don’t trust it!!!

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@cranity—They use absolutely beautiful colors and weighty line work. Everything looks so sharp and clean! I wanna put it all up on my wall!

@vewn—Their ability to crank out quality short films and illustrations packed with detail is incredible. The off-kilter perspective they use really sells disorientation and catches your attention like nothing else.

@nelnal—They have absolutely banger character designs again and again, I can’t believe one person’s mind can come up with so many creative ideas!

@jinx88kc—They have a beautiful and recognizable style, and the way they incorporate animation into their illustrations sometimes is SO cool!

Thanks for stopping by, Metal! For more of Metal’s work, follow their Tumblr, @themetalhiro! If you haven't seen their Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here!

[signedkoko]

HEHEHHEE OPEN REQUESTS???

Hello koko! I was summoned by your open requests, and I just had an idea, how about headcanons/one shot for Alastor and Vox (separately) with a reader who has powers a bit like Toge Inumaki in JJK?( I saw that you were watching JJK so I assume you know how his powers works) like what do they think about it? how do they react when reader uses her powers? How they communicate with her?

THANKS FOR READING MY REQUEST DEAR KOKO! HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHT

-🐚

Alastor | Vox X Reader [Romantic]

In which your speech causes action, so you can't speak unless you wish to control others. Reader is female.

When you first came to the hotel, Alastor was not impressed

You were certainly a gorgeous sight, but it was ruined by the device in your hands that you had your nose buried in, screen lighting ruining your face

It took him quite a while when he heard strings of words emanating from the device to realize you were speaking through it, your fingers pressing on keys faster than he could follow

You introduced yourself to everyone that day, as a new hire for the hotel, and how you couldn't speak but hoped it wouldn't get in the way

He was certainly irked by the device in your hands, but it was funny to see someone so weak that they had to rely on a flimsy device made by an even flimsier overlord

Truly a shame

You learn the hard way not to get too close to him while using your device, or else it starts to act up and get damaged

Alastor still spoke to you; of course he did! Because he was amused knowing you couldn't retort

But eventually, without noticing, he would talk more and more, filling every aspect of the silence between you

You were the best listener, both since you had no choice and because you didn't give any shitty advice

The only thing that weirded him out was the weird clicking he started to hear around you

Something about it was so familiar

J-E-R-K-J-E-R-K-J-E-R

When he looked down at your hand and saw a clicker in your hand, he realized what you were doing

Of course he knew morse code by heart! He studied all sorts of things, but he wasn't sure why you'd do things that way when you had a much easier device

Unless you did it just for him?

R-K-J-E-R-K-J

" And who are we calling names, my voiceless companion? "

Y-O-U

Still, it's very touching to see you go from using your phone to putting it away when you come to him to talk

And not much changes since you can't get out too many words with your morse method

One evening, while on a walk together, Alastor was reciting to you how he'd come to work for Charlie and how she sang on the news for so many to see! When a group of assassins surrounded the two of you, angel steel weapons were on full display

Before Alastor handled them—which, let's be fair, would be no issue to him—you pulled quicker on the draw

" COMATOSE. "

You yelled it with your hands clamped over Alastors ears, and the instant the word came out, they all dropped, beyond unconcious

Alastor laughs, because wow, that was quite the display!

But he's already dragging you over them to continue talking, now teasing you for treating him like a helpless damsel

He was certainly glad that he hadn't made an enemy of you when he first saw you, because you may stand a chance against him with an ability like that

Most sinners had some kind of ability that grew with their power, often souls under contract or training enhancing them

Vox himself had plenty of tricks under his sleeves, and he'd seen the most pathetic of abilities to those worth cowering before

But he'd never heard of something like yours

Overlords loved showing off their resources, which could include people who became very useful in battle

You were a 'friend' of Zestial, though, while most jumped at the opportunity to introduce themselves to other overlords, you only waved

Of course you piqued his interest, because when he ran his servers over you, he found little to nothing beyond pictures

After several days of stalking video feeds, he caught you and Zestial together when—oh fuck! You sign!

While he could have just waited for the next opportunity, Vox was far too invested in your story and opted to pay Zestial a visit, if it meant he could see you

From what he could tell, you were using ASL, so once he bumped into you he began signing his typical introduction

Something about his heart sparked when he saw you smile, the way those curious eyes sparkled

He was immediately embarrassed when you revealed he didn't have to sign because you could hear

But he was all healed when you signed that you were very glad to have met someone else you could talk with

Vox is used to the overstimulation of noises from news, music, footage, all of it always beaming into his head so much that the silence around you is eerie and takes him awhile to get used to

Zestial certainly has an ace; one Vox is jealous of

Since you got along so well, you and Vox schedule meet-ups so you can interact, seeing as he and Zestial are almost exact opposites

The first time he witnesses your powers is when Alastor shows up at one of your meetings, and he was certainly trying to embarrass Vox in front of you

But Vox was your friend, and you had no tolerance for Alastors threats

" Silence. "

From your lips poured a thick fog, which whisped its way over Alastor's mouth, forming a seal that prevented him from speaking

The radio demon wasn't pleased, but he wasn't about to act up a scene right now, so he turned and left

Vox immediately fanboys because, oh my FUCKING GOD, you showed him!!!

Wait, you can talk? You sound like that?

YOUR POWERS DID THAT???

He is about to waste your evening asking all kinds of things, you probably can't sign as fast as he can ask, too

Author's Note - Conch anon gets only the BEST of the BEST!!! I did like writing these anyways though, because i adore Inumaki...thank you for requesting!

[yailtsv]

Paige Bueckers x reader going to a store and participating in Angel tree’s

Day 2

Angel Tree - p.b

Sum: adopting kids off the angel tree and giving them the best Christmas ever

Warnings: fluff

Pair: Paige x gf!reader

Wc: 1.2k

My masterlist

“Jacob, 5 years old likes Spider-Man, Batman, Iron Man, coloring books, books, and doing arts & crafts. Wants a basketball and basketball hoop. Needs all clothes and winter gear, + shower soaps, a toothbrush and toothpaste.” You read off to Paige “Alright let’s add him too, pick one more” Paige says taking the angel tag from you and putting it with the other four.

You look around the tree looking at all the tags wishing you could give all of them the Christmas they deserve but you know you can’t. Two tags stuck out to you the most so you grabbed them and walked back over to Paige.

“I can’t pick between these two so you need to choose.” You start making Paige nod “Lila, 4 years old likes Hello Kitty, Barbie, baby dolls, Disney princesses, drawing, and Stitch. Wants a baby doll and a stuffed animal. Needs shoes and clothes” you then put that tag behind the other one and start reading the second one “Taylor, 16 years old likes skincare, makeup, hair accessories, Taylor Swift, reading, listening to music, volleyball, and basketball. Wants either cds and a cd player or vinyls and a vinyl player. Needs clothes, walking shoes, basketball shoes, and all hygiene products” you then looked up at Paige “which one?” You ask

She just walks towards you and takes both tags and puts them in the cart with the others “wha-“ you cut yourself off “I thought we were only doing 6?” You say running up to Paige to catch up with her since she started pushing the cart in the direction of the clothes “and now we’re doing 7” she says with a cheeky smile that you shake your head fondly at “but I will say we didn’t think this far ahead, this carts not gonna be big enough for 7 kids” Paige continues

You look at her then the cart and before you can say anything she cuts in “you go start getting clothes for either the boys or the girls and I’m gonna go get another cart” she says passing off the cart to you and walking off all before you could say anything

You push the cart to the closest clothes area which happens to be girls and women’s. They all need coats so you grab the correct size and design you think matches each kid and decide to start with the teenagers then work your way to the kid section. Paige comes back with another cart while you’re making your way to the kid section after getting quite a bit of clothes for the 2 girl teenagers. “Is that all the girls or just the teenagers?” Paige asks walking up to you with the cart

“Just the teenagers, I’m making my way to the kid’s section now. Why?” You replied looking up at Paige, she shakes her head and says “nothing, I was just thinking we could split up for the clothes to make this go faster, I can do the boys while your getting the rest of the girls.” You nod “yeah that could work, I’ll come over to you if I get done before you.” Paige nods saying she’ll do the same and then started walking towards the boys and men section while you continue your way to the girls section.

After you and Paige both got a lot of clothes for the kids you both decided to get the other necessities next getting all sorts of soaps, hygiene products, shoes, socks, hats, scarfs, gloves, and ear muffs. “Alright I think we can start with the wish list and like list now” Paige says stopping the cart and looking at the boys wishlist items again, making you do the same “I need to get a basketball & hoop, headphones & either an iPad or iPhone, and a pair of basketball shoes & dunks” Paige reads off

“I need a baby doll & a stuffed animal, art supplies, cds & cd player or vinyls & vinyl player, and dystopian book’s & romance books” you read off “Were kinda all over the store with this one” Paige says chuckling a little making you giggle and nod “Do you wanna split up for this one too? Should we just get everything off their list separately and meet up somewhere?” You ask making Paige look at her lists “yeah probably I think there are only like 3 aisles that we both need stuff from off of all these lists.” Paige starts thinking about how you guys should do this “Alright yeah let’s split up and get everything off the lists and meet up in the candy aisle. If you need me call me.” She continues, you nod agreeing with her telling her to also call if needed.

After around a hour and a half you start making your way to the candy aisle. You got a lot of stuff and some extra things that you think they will really like - for the baby doll you also got accessories and baby furniture, for the Barbie’s you also got the dream house, you got Taylor a vinyl player with all Taylor Swift vinyls + some vinyls of artists you think she’ll like, SOOO many books, and that’s not even all of it, there is still a bunch more of what you got.

Finally making it to the candy aisle you see Paige with her cart just as full as yours “hey babe” you say walking up to her making her look up from her phone “hey princess, you ready to checkout?” You just nod and you guys start making your way to the only area that doesn’t have long lines currently and also surprisingly - self checkout.

You and Paige both go to the only open one, with Paige letting you go first and handing you stuff for you to scan to make it easier.

When it’s time to pay you grab your wallet and get your card ready to pay, then you hear the confirmation ding making you look at Paige - standing with her phone out and grabbing the receipt “seriously? P I was gonna pay, you didn’t have to do that.” You whine out

“I wanted to do it. “ she starts then continues before you could say anything “Just let me spoil you with no complaints PLEASE” she draws the please out making you roll your eyes with a small smile on your face “Technically you’re not spoiling me, your spoiling those girls.” You say smartly making Paige smack her lips together and side eye you while putting your shopping bags in your cart “Ok well technically I’m spoiling both you and those girls because now you still have 3,798 in your bank account and their getting everything on their Christmas lists. It’s a win-win-win situation” she says with a cheeky grin

“Win-win-win situation?” You mumble under your breath “yes a win-win-win situation, what about it?” Paige sasses starting to scan all her stuff, you just shake your head and put your hands up in mock surrender “nothing” Paige just side eyes you again. Once she was done scanning and you guys fought over who payed (she cheated and payed with Apple Pay while she was pushing you back from putting your card in) you and Paige turned the gifts and tags in to where you were supposed to and then exited the store “lunch on me?” Paige suddenly asks while you guys were walking to the car making you side eye her this time.

[daenysx]

hii!!!! i saw u wanted sleepy maurauders request so can i request a jamie and reader go on a run or to the gym and reader is sooo out of it bc of an injury in the beginning of the year (not kidding i literally can’t run a mile anymore) and he’s like ugh im so sore too just to please the reader and they lay in bed and it’s all very sleepy and cute???

thanks angel, i hope you enjoy

james potter x fem!reader, fluff

"jamie." you whimper, moving your achy legs to get under the covers. "would you please- i can't feel my legs."

james is acting dramatic today and you're kinda having fun with it. he's strong and he must be less sore than you, he doesn't have any past injury pulling him down when he works out. you're still proud of yourself, though, moving your body felt nice. even if it doesn't change the fact that you feel numb and achy all over your body.

"okay, okay, come here." james finally gets you closer to himself to help you settle down. "what should we do to help you feel better?"

"sleep." you mumble. he smells so good, it distracts you.

he takes a breath before turning to his side and adjusting his head to put it on your shoulder. his hair tickles your neck, but you don't mind. "i can give you a massage." he offers, gently.

"you're tired."

"you can give me a massage?"

"i'm more tired."

"aw, poor girl."

neither of you gets any massage, that's okay. james is fond of your warm body next to him, he drags his hand on your thigh just to keep it there. lifting his chin to find your cheek, he gives you a nice kiss. poor, lovely sweetheart. all tired and achy, james wants to be wrapped around you.

you turn your head to hold him, hug his shoulders as much as you can by moving your arm enough in bed. his lips find your collarbone and he draws a line with kisses there, your heart beats tiny bit faster for him.

sleep is like honey in your eyes, intense and effective, you find yourself drifting off suddenly. james listens to your breathing, your fingers unconsciously move on his shoulder blades, and he wishes for you to press harder right there. you could if you were awake, but he realizes the yearning for touch is a part of loving you. he's gonna look for satisfaction in the little touches you give him as you sleep.

"jamie?" you murmur after a minute. you move your arm, it'll go numb if you don't.

"yes, baby?"

"can you hold me?" you ask without opening your eyes. maybe you're still asleep, james isn't sure. "like- closer."

he follows your every word and gets you in his arms, your head fits perfectly on his shoulder, and you settle on his chest. you're the cutest when you're asleep, all pouty lips and sleep filled eyes. james thinks he can watch you like this for an eternity, but his eyes betray him, and he falls asleep.

[moonstruckme]

i don’t know if this is something you might feel comfortable with writing but could you do something like any of the marauders or poly!marauders where they have a moment of misogyny. it could be towards reader or just in general during a conversation. i think it’s really interesting considering their time period isn’t really that progressive yet.

Thanks for requesting!

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Three days ago, you’d decided to go on strike. Three days, and now the sink is completely full of disgusting, almost-smelly dishes with food still crusted to them. 

Sirius simply doesn’t do dishes. Ever. You’re not sure if it’s some kind of rich boy syndrome where he thinks he just puts them in the sink and then later they magically disappear, but the assumption that he doesn’t have to clean up after himself is really starting to grate on your nerves. 

You have to remind yourself that Sirius is a great boyfriend. For the most part, you like living with him, you really do. He brings you home sweets after he gets off work, he gives you lazy massages while you sit watching TV at night, and you may be biased, but you think he’s generally a delight to have around. 

So for a while, you tried to tell yourself that it was worth having to do a few extra dishes. You love him, and he loves you, and there’s no reason to rock the boat, right? You could do this extra thing for him, just like he does so many for you. But eventually, it was the lack of appreciation that got to you. 

When Sirius takes his plate to the kitchen after dinner, you keep your voice light as meringue. “Would you mind washing that, please?” 

“Why?” 

Ire flares to life faster than you knew it could. You think your eye twitches. 

“Why?” you repeat.

“Yeah.” Sirius turns to look at you over the kitchen counter, and the confusion is so plain on his face that it mollifies you slightly. “Can’t you do it?” 

“Why would you assume I’m going to do it?” 

He shrugs. “Because you like cleaning stuff, right?” 

You force yourself to breathe in and out through your nose, but despite your best intentions, the words come out with a sharp edge. “Not really.” 

Sirius actually blinks in surprise. “Oh. But I thought…you’re always saying Sunday is relaxing for you because it’s your cleaning day.” 

“That’s because I like to have things be clean, Sirius. Not because I like cleaning.” 

“Oh,” he says again, seeming somewhat lost. “Okay, I’ll just…wait, is that why all these dishes are in the sink? Have you been trying to tell me something?” 

“Those are all yours.” You’re burning through your fury fast, and you know what will be left after it’s used up. But you’re not going to cry about this. You will not. 

“I didn’t realize.” Sirius looks up at you, a crease forming between his brows. “I’m sorry, gorgeous, I had no idea. I just thought you liked doing them yourself.” 

“It’s fine,” you say, but it’s not, and your voice is taking on a slight wobble despite your determination to keep it out. “I just…I wish you wouldn’t have assumed that I’d always do them for you. It kind of hurt my feelings that you never asked, or said thank you.” 

“Aw, baby.” Sirius sets his plate down, coming around the counter. He hesitates a second, looking back at the pile. “I’m going to do those in a second, okay?” he reassures you before crossing the rest of the distance to where you sit on the couch. “I’m so sorry, gorgeous. I’m an idiot.” 

You nod up at the ceiling, blinking to keep your tears from falling. 

A ring-clad hand finds your shoulder, thumb rubbing into your collarbone. “Hey, just let it out.” 

“No, I’m still—” you draw in a breath, and a tear slips down your cheek. “I’m still mad at you. Just ignore this. I don’t want to cry when we’re in a fight.” 

“We don’t have to be in a fight,” he suggests. “I’m sorry for all of it, I was totally in the wrong. I didn’t mean to make you feel…baby, hey, would you look at me?” 

You take a deep breath before you do, more tears falling as soon as gravity allows them. You try to ignore them, but Sirius sets a hand to each cheek, thumbing them away. He looks miserable, lips pressed into a thin line to hide his own discontent. 

“I didn’t mean to make you feel unappreciated,” he says softly. “I do appreciate you. You do so many sweet things every day, and I appreciate them so much. But you’re right, I wasn’t appreciating how you were cleaning my dishes for me. I’m really sorry, sweetheart.”

It all feels really good to hear. Part of you wants to let him go on, but you have too many questions to stay quiet. “You never did your own dishes before, did you?” 

His eyes drop to your shoulder, embarrassed. “No. I guess it might have been my mother, or we had some, like, help” —his face contorts as if the word tastes bitter in his mouth— “but I actually never asked who did them. Pretty fucked, huh?” You agree, but you play it down with a one-shouldered shrug. Sirius seems like he’s feeling guilty enough without your help. “And then in my last place, it was just James and I, so we used pretty much paper everything. No dishes to clean.” He shakes his head at himself, dismayed. “I never even thought about it. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I put that on you without even thinking.” 

“It’s fine,” you reassure him. Then, at the look he gives you, “Okay, it wasn’t before, but I think it can be now. It was…a tad inconsiderate, but now you know, right?” 

He nods determinedly. “Now I know. Promise.” 

“And now you’re not just going to assume every woman in your life will do the housework for you?” 

Despite your teasing tone, Sirius brings a hand to his face, his head lolling back despondently. “Fuck. I’m a real piece of shit, huh?” 

“You were acting like one,” you say laughingly, reaching forward to give him an affectionate shake by the shoulder, “but you’re not.” 

When he tilts his head towards you again, hair falling in his eyes, there’s still evidence of guilt lining his features but he seems to be trying to get back to his usual levity. He pouts at you, taking your face back between his hands. His rings are cool against your skin. “I can’t believe I made you cry because I’m too much of a prick to do my own dishes.”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to cry.” You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “I don’t want your pity, Black.” 

Sirius’ pout worsens, his thumbs stroking over your cheeks. “I can’t help it. You did weeks of unpaid labor.” He kisses the skin above your nose tenderly. “My sweet girl. You should have told me earlier.” 

Your face warms a bit under his hands. “I did sort of take the petty route by letting your dishes pile up.” 

“I’ve earned some petty treatment,” he says firmly. “You should have let my dishes pile up from the first day I moved in. You should have put them in my room so I’d have to ask about them. In my bed, under the sheets.” 

You wrinkle your nose. “Jesus, I’m not that cruel. That’d be disgusting.” 

“I know, baby,” Sirius laughs, pressing another kiss to the tip of your nose. “That’s because I’m the petty one. You’re just in training.”

[leighsartworks216]

Within Arm's Reach

Zayne x male!Reader

IT'S FINALLY HERE. Yeah not having wifi atm sucks so hopefully no one walks in on me writing this at school

SMUT BELOW THE CUT

Warnings: fluff, smut, pwp, aftercare, anal sex, hand job, kissing, biting, nipple play, praise kink, swearing, first time topping, first time bottoming, references to proposing, banter, teasing, creampie, multiple orgasms

Word Count: 2,157

Main Masterlist

First - Second - Third LADS Masterlists

AO3

Tag List Form (taking a short break from updating my list rn but I will update it again soon when I have time <333)

Zayne groans something beautiful, lodged in his throat as he strains to keep his head up to watch you slowly push your cock into him. His own dick twitches prettily against his stomach, leaking precum onto his pale skin.

Your head spins, eyes stuck staring at the sight of his body sucking you in, squeezing around you. It's hot and slick from lube, and you think you could cum right then and there. Zayne reaches out to hold your hip. His fingers press deliciously into your skin as he draws you closer, drawing you deeper into him.

"Good," he breathes. "Just like that." He sighs a shuddering breath when you've bottomed out. "Give me a moment."

You'd wait to the end of time for him, truly. And this sight - his hair disheveled from your make out session on the couch, his ears bright red, his lips parted and swollen, his chest rising and falling, his pupils blown wide - well, you could admire it beyond the end of time. You wonder if he feels this way when he fucks you. If he relishes in being able to look down and see you in such a mess, dribbling precum on yourself as you look back up at him, pleas falling from your lips like prayers, begging him to move. When he leans his head back to look at you, you think he just might.

"Go ahead," he says. You begin to pull out and he gasps, closing his eyes to center himself again. "Start slow."

You pull back until just the tip remains inside. It's your first time fucking him, but it's also his first time being fucked. You try to draw on that experience. Rub circles into his hip with your thumb to soothe him. His eyes crack open to look at you. You grin softly at him, and slowly push back in.

It's addicting, watching your put-together doctor fray at the edges. He's always had the habit of "losing himself" to your pleasure when you two are intimate, doing everything in his power to please you as much as possible, even getting off when he sees you enjoy yourself. He chases after it. He loves it. In those instances, he gets almost desperate. But no matter what, he is in control. He has his finger on the pulse.

Now that he's beneath you, even as he guides you along, you are the one in control. He could tell you to go faster and you could slow down. Tease you just like he does some nights, when you're being difficult and he quirks his eyebrow and smirks and tells you to be patient. You understand why he loves it so much.

You speed up gradually. Sweat glistens in a light sheen across both of your bodies. With each thrust, his dick bounces, drawing with it webs of sticky spend. Zayne's cheeks are flushed now, quiet sounds pulled more readily from him. You can't help the sounds that escape you either, slowly losing yourself to the feel of your partner's tight walls hugging your cock, engulfing you in ways you can't begin to emulate with your hand, but that you'll wish you could replicate when you're alone.

You lean down over him, supporting yourself with a hand beside his head, and he wastes no time pulling you close. One hand tangles in your hair, drawing your lips to his, mouths parting and coming together with wet sounds and hot breaths. He tastes faintly sweet. His other arm wraps around your shoulders, hugging you to his chest. Slick skin rubs against each other. When you grind your hips into his, you feel his cock brush against your stomach. He groans, breathless as he tilts his head the other way and kisses you again.

Between kisses, he speaks into your mouth. "Put your knee up on the bed," he tells you. You follow his instruction without contest. With the added leverage, you fuck into him easier, moaning as you find a new angle to rut into him. He draws you even closer with a broken sound. "Yes~ So obedient. Such a good boy."

Whether it's the angle or the praise, you're not sure. But something snaps. You cry out his name as your hips stutter, pressing hard up against him as though you can possibly reach any deeper. Your dick twitches and hot spurts of cum paint his insides white. The odd feeling, the heat of it, has Zayne's back arching, stomach, chest and cock pressing against your front as he gasps and sighs against the corner of your mouth. His knees squeeze your hips encouragingly, silently telling you to stay there until you've recovered. He presses light kisses against your jaw.

"You did so good," he praises beside your ear. You roll your hips and his breath hitches. "Take your time, my love. Just breathe."

You drop your face into his neck, bowing into him. "Fuck, Zayne, I-" You take a deep shuddering breath. He scratches soothingly at your scalp. He smells like mint and pine, like a cold winter, but his body is so warm, his hand on your back running along your spine to give you chills. You sigh shakily against him. "I-I'm still hard," you admit with a wet swallow. "Feels so good. You feel so good."

He cups your face to draw you from his neck, to kiss your lips lightly. "It's okay," he says softly. "Keep going. I've got you."

Your eyes are bleary as you pull back to see his face. "Are you sure?"

He nods, face flushed as he guides your hand from his hip to his still achingly hard dick, still twitching with the need to cum. He's so hot as you wrap your hand around him, weighty. You thoughtlessly lick your lips, imagining the taste and feel of him on your tongue. You dream for a moment of pulling out and just settling between his legs, taking him down your throat or licking his stomach clean. But he shifts his hips up against yours and the shock it sends through your system wakes you from the thought. Another time.

You're so sensitive when you pull out again. Your own cum acts as lubricant as you thrust back in. Some dribbles out, following the cleft of his ass to stain the towel he laid down prior. His chest moves in choppy breaths, your sweet doctor taken in once more by the euphoria of it all.

He guides your hand along his shaft. The dual feeling of your cock fucking into him as you jerk him off sends his head spinning. He tips his head back against the pillows, Adam's apple made prominent as he mindlessly tells you to take what you need from him.

Neck so open and exposed, you can't resist putting your mouth on it. Wet, open-mouth kisses trailing along his artery, lips sucking on the smooth skin to form light bruises, teeth lightly nipping over the jut of his collarbones. You settle back on your knee for support as you go further down. Tongue circling his pretty pink nipple, sucking it into the wet heat of your mouth. He tangles his fingers in your hair again with a moan of your name. Holds you to his chest to keep you there, devoting attention to his nipple as it hardens within your mouth. The salt of his sweat tastes so sweet when you have him like this under you.

His hand falls from yours as you take control over the rate you stroke him. You do short, quick pumps around the head of his cock, over the ridge. Your thumb presses against his leaking slit, spreading the slick precum around, staining your hand in it to lubricate your ministrations. Zayne grips onto the towel to ground himself, as though he could float away at any second from the high of his approaching orgasm. "'M close. So close. Hng- Don't stop. Fuck, don't stop."

You push your tired body to go faster. The slap of skin against skin fills the air. The wet pop as you tear your mouth from his nipple to lean back up to his neck, kissing messily along his jaw. The tension in your abdomen builds, muscles tensing as you prepare for the fall. It almost burns, so overstimulated from your first orgasm that it nearly hurts to chase after this one. But you don't dare shy away from it now, even as your breaths choke up and you're pressing down desperately into Zayne for support.

His hips buck up, fucking his dick in your hand just as hot ropes of his cum shoot out over your hand, onto his stomach, even sticking to your own. The vein pulses against your palm, cock twitching, as it forces out every last drop he can offer. Your name falls from his lips in breathless whispers, choked and drawn out and so fucking beautiful.

You don't stop stroking him. Don't slow your rapid pace. Not until your own cock pulses with its release. Hot cum fills him once more, coating your dick as you helplessly thrust into him, messy and off rhythm. When you finally feel the ache fade, you stop, buried to the hilt inside of him, hand releasing his flaccid cock to hold his hip with a sticky hand. It's hot on his sweaty skin.

He lets out a quiet sound as his body relaxes back into the bed. Satisfied and tired, he strokes a hand lazily through your hair, scratching lightly at your scalp as you catch your breath. You can't help laying your weight on him, but he doesn't complain at all. Just turns his head to kiss your temple.

"You were perfect, my love," he whispers, voice shaking ever so slightly. He strokes odd patterns up your back, occasionally massaging into the muscles to coax out any remaining tension.

You hiss softly as you pull out. His breath hitches, but he otherwise seems unaffected, pressing another kiss against your head. You press a kiss to his neck in return. "You were, too," you hum. "Thank you for agreeing to try this."

You feel his lips curve into a slight grin against you. "Which do you prefer?"

"Hmm, right now?"

"Mm."

"... I didn't realize how addicting being... inside you would be."

He huffs a soft laugh. "I underestimated how good it would feel to have you inside me." His fingers grab hold of your chin, tilting your head up so he can kiss your lips. The kiss is reverent, delicate. Barely a brushing of lips. "We need to clean up."

You grin against his lips, eyes half-lidded and sleepy as you crack them open to look at him. "I guess that's my job tonight, huh?"

He grins in return. His thumb mindlessly strokes your jaw. "Shall I show you how to do that, too?"

You pinch his side playfully. His body jolts slightly as he shoots you a look. Your arms shake as you push yourself back up, standing on wobbly legs. You wipe your hand on the towel beside his leg. Your traitorous eyes look at the mess that's been made. You do your best not to drool, flushing with heat as you disappear off into the bathroom. "I've seen you do it enough times." You run the water on the shower, starting up the towel heater in the meantime before stepping back out to disappear down the hall. "It's your turn to watch now!" you call from the kitchen, fetching your beloved a glass of water.

Zayne stares down the hall after you, though you can't see him, nor he you. A content smile paints his lips, timid but insistent. The spray of the shower hits the tile wall. Glasses clinking in the kitchen barely sound over it. He's hot and sweaty and sticky, uncomfortable with the dripping mess leaking out of him and how sore he is. He sees your face, tired but smiling, as you come back to the bedroom with two glasses in hand, condensation gathering on the sides, and he thinks of the box in his office drawer where you can't accidentally stumble upon it before he's ready. He wishes now, when you help him sit up and sit on the edge beside him, drinking your waters together, that it had been hidden in his nightstand, an arm's reach away.

Because he is ready. He knows that now more than ever. He finds himself lost staring at you. You tilt your head at him. "Something wrong?" you ask.

He shakes his head and hides his embarrassment at being caught behind a sip of water. "No, nothing's wrong."

He can see the sliver of worry fall from your shoulders as you smile. You set your glass aside and stand up, bending down to kiss his cheek. "C'mon, sugar, the water's getting cold."

Yes, he is ready. Tomorrow. Maybe tonight. Soon. Soon.

---

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[callmeagardengnome]

𓆩 bless me 𓆪 - chapter 13

w.c - 2.8k

pairings - demon!ateez ot8 x demon! fem! reader

genre - demon au, hint of royal au, possible yandere themes (?), romance, slow burn

synopsis: as hell's receptionist, you only wished to talk shit and stay out of trouble. yet, you happened to be the one that the two social clans in hell start fighting for.

c.w - dark themes, knives

not proofread!

previous / next

masterlist

Time froze as Seonghwa pressed you against the cold wall, his switchblade just under your chin. “How long have you been planning this?” he asked bitterly. “How elaborate is this foolish scheme of yours?”

You squirmed under the blade, wincing. “I don’t kno-”

“You don’t know?” Seonghwa sneered. He dug the blade deeper into your skin, enough to draw a line of blood. “Convenient answer for someone as-”

“-Stop,” Mingi interrupted, his voice hoarse as he tried to rise to his feet once more, gripping the bars for support. “Put the blade down now.”

Seonghwa scoffed, not even sparing him a glance as he kept his eyes on you. “Are you going to be a nuisance the whole time?”

“Yes,” Mingi said. “If you keep hurting her.”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes. “How noble.”

Without warning, he grabbed your arm harshly, dragging you away from the chamber. You tripped, stumbling over your feet as Mingi shouted raspily behind you.

“Where are you taking her?” his voice echoed.

Seonghwa looked back with a cruel smirk. “Out of your reach.”

His grip tightened as he dragged you down the tunnel, away from Mingi’s reassuring presence. Seonghwa pulled you closer to him, his breath against your ear as he leaned in.

“I wonder if he knows how close you are to Yunho.”

Your eyes widened and you tried to push against his grip. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He didn’t answer.

“Hello?” you pressed on.

He only tightened his hold, dragging you faster as his pace quickened. The wind from the speed hit your face until you were shoved into what appeared to be a lavish bedroom. The abrupt stop made you cough as Seonghwa kicked the door shut and threw you into a chair.

You barely had time to process anything before the switchblade was back, its pointed tip now pressing against your forehead.

“Duke, don’t you think this is unnecessary?” you tried to reason with him, your voice trembling slightly.

“Oh, this is completely necessary,” Seonghwa spat, his face inches away from yours. “How could you betray the King like this?”

“What are you talking about?” You let out a frustrated breath. “You knew that I wasn’t on your side.”

“It’s bad enough being a traitor, but helping another one? In the Palace? Are you insane?” he snapped, his voice rising.

“You can’t possibly believe that we’d kill Mingi like that,” you said, irritated.

Seonghwa’s jaw clenched, his breathing becoming uneven. “Do you have any idea what this means for us?”

The blade trailed down to your chin, forcing your head up. “Every day, I watch more and more Eternals turn against the King,” his voice cracked. “Whether it’s Mingi or any other idiotic demon.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but his grip on the blade tightened as he continued. “And I can’t help but think that you’re the cause of all of this.” 

You stared at him. “Did you really think that this would all end well?”

“Yes,” he replied with no hesitation. “Everything ends well. For the Eternals, at least.”

The pause that followed was heavy.

His eyes blinked repeatedly when he realised how close he was to you - and for a moment, something unreadable flashed across his face. Seonghwa backed away suddenly, the blade lowering as he took a step back.

“I didn’t think you were stupid enough to help those.. pests,” Seonghwa said. “What would you even achieve from this? A badge? A trophy? You’re not a saint.”

“Come on,” you sighed wearily. “At this point, I have to beg you to open your eyes. Why are you so blind to the fact that the Halas did nothing wrong?”

“They’ve done many wrong things,” he scoffed.

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Stealing land,” he stated.

“No, that was you guys,” you denied.

Seonghwa’s brows furrowed. “They’re aggressive-”

“-They wouldn’t be that way if you guys didn’t attack them every century,” you cut him off.

“They hate us,” he said. “I’m sure they would harm us if they could.”

“Because the Eternals harmed them first.”

Seonghwa blinked. He brought the switchblade back to your chin, though his movements were almost hesitant now. “You think you’re funny?”

“Who told you all these things about the Halas?” you asked.

He paused.

“...The King,” he said hesitantly.

His eyes burned into yours as the silence stretched between the two of you. You would have felt pity for him if he didn’t hold a literal blade to your chin at that moment.

“Why would you believe him?” you asked softly.

“...Because he’s the only one that believes in me,” Seonghwa whispered, so quietly that you almost missed it.

His breathing slowed down as he lowered his knife completely, sitting on the edge of his bed. His shoulders slumped like he was beginning to see cracks in his beliefs.

You stood up, dusting off your cloak. “I’m leaving.”

He didn’t look at you, his brows furrowing as his thoughts spiralled. 

“I hope you open your eyes to see that the Halas aren’t the bad ones here,” you said, moving to leave. “Wake up, Seonghwa. The King is using you.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹₊ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ ⭑⊹₊ 𖥔.

Wooden training swords clashed against each other in the training hall. You stumbled back, wiping the sweat from your face as you tried to hold your stance. Jongho stood infront of you, barely out of breath.

“How-” you gasped. “How the Hell are you so strong?”

A small smile tugged at Jongho’s lips as he watched you drop to the floor, sprawling on your back. The floor beneath you felt cool to your heated skin.

“You’re pretty strong too,” he shrugged. “If only you had more stamina.”

“That’s it,” You waved him off, panting. “I’m done.”

“Come on, one more round,” he clapped his hands together, a grin forming.

“No- I actually can’t,” you said, lifting your head slightly off the ground. 

Jongho crouched beside you, his arms resting on his knees. “I’m sure you can,” he smirked.

“Ask Wooyoung. Or San,” you suggested, still trying to catch his breath. “I’m sure San would be thrilled to spar with you.”

“Maybe,” Jongho replied, chuckling. “But it’s not as fun.”

You exhaled sharply. “I can’t-”

“Just one more round,” he said. “Please?”

You groaned, knowing that he was not taking ‘no’ for an answer. With a cough, you pushed yourself off of the floor. “Fine. But if you ask for another after this, I’m fighting you for real.”

The next round was brutal. Jongho didn’t even bother to go easy on you. You gave it your all, your muscles screaming in protest. By the time it was over, you collapsed to the ground once again.

Jongho sat cross-legged beside you. He looked over at you. “Sorry, I think I went too far,” he admitted, his eyes softening slightly.

“It’s okay,” you muttered between your gasps for air. “Just let me rot here..”

He chuckled, leaning back on his hands as the two of you sat in silence. After a while, you lifted your head to look at him. “You can go back if you want.”

Jongho raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“I mean it,” you insisted. “I’ll be fine.”

Without a word, Jongho stood up and walked away, leaving the room. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on your breathing. But after a few minutes, you heard the door creaking open. You turned your head - and there he was again.

Jongho held up a few apples as he walked towards you.

“I don’t-”

“Just take them,” he cut you off.

You sighed but reached out, taking one. The bite was crisp and refreshing, something you desperately needed after that horrid sparring session. Jongho sat next to you, biting into one of them himself.

The two of you ate in silence. And after all these crazy things happening to you, you finally felt like you had a break.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹₊ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ ⭑⊹₊ 𖥔.

Wooyoung rolled around in your bed, a little too comfortable for someone that just barged into your room. 

“I’m so jealous,” he grumbled, tossing his arms behind his head. “Why is your room as big as the barracks we sleep in?” 

You shrugged. “I’m just that good.”

He rolled his eyes, grabbing one of your pillows before throwing it at you. You were about to throw the pillow back when you suddenly heard a knock on the door. Both of you froze, staring at each other. 

“Who is that?” Wooyoung whispered. 

“I don’t know, but you’re not supposed to be here,” you gestured to the bathroom. “Hide.”

Without wasting a second, Wooyoung scurried to the bathroom, quickly shutting the door. You smoothed out your clothes and opened your bedroom door to reveal.. Yunho. 

“Hey..” you greeted confusedly. You peeked out into the hallway, checking if either Hongjoong or Seonghwa were around. “Are you okay? Do you need something?”

“I-“ he began, toying with the sleeves of his blazer. “I need to talk to you about something,” he said, though it sounded more like a question than anything. 

“Yeah, of course,” you said, leaning against the doorframe. 

He blinked. “Uh- I meant inside.”

You paused, your eyebrows shooting up. “Oh.”

Before you could invite him in, Wooyoung’s head popped out from behind the bathroom door. Yunho’s eyes narrowed immediately. 

“I see you have company,” Yunho coughed out. He took a step back. “Forget it, we’ll talk later.”

“Nonono,” Wooyoung said, walking over to the door. “I’m sure whatever you need to say to her, you can say to me as well.”

Yunho looked visibly annoyed. “I don’t think-“

“I think,” Wooyoung interrupted, putting his arm on your shoulder. “It’s perfectly fine for you to talk to her. As long as I’m here.”

Your eyes pleaded for Yunho to just go along with it. Yunho looked at you, then Wooyoung. “Fine,” he muttered.

As the three of you walked into the room, Yunho sighed heavily. “What is he doing here?”

“Well-” you began before pausing, glancing at Wooyoung. “Honestly, I don’t know. He kinda just appeared.”

Wooyoung sat on the chair in the corner of the room, tilting his head. “What’s wrong with two demons hanging out?” he asked, his eyes locked on Yunho.

“Nothing,” Yunho crossed his arms, glaring right back at him. “Except for the fact that you’re hanging out in her bedroom.”

“You-”

“-What do you need, Yunho?” you cut in, hoping that the two of them would stop. You sat on the edge of your bed and watched as Yunho stood stiffly, still fidgeting with his sleeves.

Yunho took a deep breath, pulling a folded piece of paper from his blazer. “Someone slid this under my door,” he said, handing it to you.

You opened it, raising an eyebrow when you saw elegantly written words on it:

‘Tell your girlfriend that I will assist her in reckless endeavours to help the roaches of Hell - under the condition that my actions will not bring harm to the King. If her plans stray beyond this boundary, my assistance will cease immediately, together with my tolerance for her life.

Do not make me regret this decision.’

“Seonghwa…” you breathed out. 

You looked over the note again, re-reading it to check if you were just seeing things. While you did find it questionable that he referred to you as Yunho’s ‘girlfriend’, something else bothered you.

“Wait-” Your head snapped up, narrowing your eyes on Yunho. “Why would he give this to you?”

Yunho swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I.. had a conversation with him two nights ago,” he confessed, his posture uneasy. “Trying to convince him to be more.. open-minded about loyalty.”

You leaned forward, urging him to continue. “And?”

Yunho sighed. “He kept going on about how we had no power, no plan- no way of getting away with this. I thought showing him the chambers would prove we’re smarter than he thinks.”

Your stomach dropped. “Are you serious?” you nearly shouted, standing abruptly. “You’re the reason I almost died.”

“Died?” Wooyoung exclaimed, rising from his chair. He cracked his fingers as he glared at Yunho. “Oh I knew you were shitty-”

“He wouldn’t kill her,” Yunho scoffed. “He’s not brave enough for that.”

“He was brave enough to hold a knife to my neck after realising Mingi was alive,” you shot back.

Yunho bit the inside of his cheek. “To be fair, I didn’t tell him that part.”

You groaned, your hands running through your hair as you slowly sat back down onto your bed. “I need a moment to think about this.”

A silence fell over the three of you before Wooyoung spoke up. “This is when you leave.” 

Yunho hesitated, reaching for the note before you slapped your hand over it. “Leave it here,” you demanded.

He nodded reluctantly, standing and walking to the door. Just before leaving, he glanced back at you - his eyes softening with concern. Then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind you.

You heard a ‘tsk’ as Wooyoung walked towards you. “This is exactly why I don’t trust him,” he muttered, his voice bitter.

You glared at him as he picked up the note, reading it. You saw how his brows furrowed as something strange flashed in his eyes before he set it back down.

“Just saying, if that were me,” he added quietly, pointing to where Yunho just left. “I would never put you in that situation.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹₊ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ ⭑⊹₊ 𖥔.

The quiet rustle of paper cranes filled the room, folding and unfolding in your hands as you sat at Hongjoong’s desk. Seonghwa was nowhere to be seen and Hongjoong was seated across from you, completely focused on the documents infront of him.

As you dropped the crane into the jar - you noticed something.

A ring. On the King’s hands.

There was something disturbingly familiar about it.

The piece of metal on his ring finger caught your attention. Was he married? From what you knew of the Royals, you were sure that he wasn’t. Also, the ring looked weirdly cheap and old. Would the King really wear something as inexpensive as that?

The longer you stared at it, the more your surroundings melted around you - your mind transporting you to a dream-like place. Or a memory.

The feeling of demons pushing past you came back. The sounds haggling grew louder as merchants and shopkeepers yelled for demons to come to their stalls.

Though despite this, a small shop caught your eye. A display of trinkets and jewelry, all made with cheap copper and brass.

Your fingers brushed over a simple copper ring, the metal warm to the touch under the blistering sun. It was small and simple - something that you knew wouldn’t get stolen by other demons.

“I’ll take this one,” you said, placing a few coins on the table. 

As you slipped the ring onto your finger, the world seemed to shift and you found yourself in the office, in the middle of folding a crane. 

You blinked, trying to brush off that memory of yours. It wasn’t that significant, was it?

But as you folded another paper crane, your eyes darted to Hongjoong’s hands again. The ring stirred a strangely intense feeling of deja vu.

“...Where did you get that ring from?” you asked, your mouth moving before you could think.

Hongjoong froze. The slight widening of his eyes betrayed his surprise, though he quickly recovered. He touched the ring briefly, almost unconsciously, as he lowered the file.

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing on you. “What happened to your chin?”

You instinctively touched the sore cut under your chin, wincing slightly at the reminder of your conversation with Seonghwa. “I fell-”

Before you could finish, a knock was heard. Seonghwa entered, though he paused when he noticed the tension in the room. He walked over to his chair, sitting down slowly. 

Hongjoong’s eyes shifted from you to Seonghwa. Without a word, he rose from his seat and walked over to the Duke.

In one swift motion, Hongjoong snatched the switchblade from Seonghwa’s belt. You held your breath as he turned the blade over in his hands, studying it intently.

Hongjoong walked back to you, his footsteps echoing softly against the carpet. Gently, he held your chin with one hand, tilting it upward so the light shined on the scar. The unexpected softness of his touch sent a jolt through your spine. His eyes darted between the wound and the blade, comparing the line of the cut to the edge of the weapon.

“Hm,” you heard him say as he stepped away. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the blade back onto Seonghwa’s lap.

Seonghwa managed to catch the weapon, his face filled with worry as his jaw twitched.

Hongjoong returned to his seat, his eyes lingering on Seonghwa for a moment too long before he shifted his attention back to you.

He nodded toward the sheets of square paper scattered on the desk, finally speaking up. “Fold.”

remember to like repost and comment! i love reading all of them, so feel free to comment as much as you want! any and all feedback appreciated <3

series taglist [OPEN] - @binchanluvrr @hiddlestandom @avantalem @hecateslittlewitchling @iara-ya @thunderous-wolf @jaerisdiction @mallielovssyou @syzygyweeb @dime29 @marsofeight @doitforbangchan @shotaswife @soulphoenix1618 @justalittlegirl27 @minakooo @nqyzhuo @symmieangela @miyaluvvsyou @pirana10 @arilevenatz @darkmiraclefest @eighttens @lightwxodd @non-return @yunhossilverlight @levishun @sunkissedchocobeauty @nuggiesnuggetdog04 @castingjinx @sparda1234 @choisanchwego

[leqonsluv3r]

valentine’s day

—leon finally starts to heal after he meets you in a grocery store, a blurb

masterlist taglist

an: i’ve had this idea in my head since i went to the LANY concert a month ago and heard this song live. i have not been the same person since, this drabble/blurb is dedicated to this song and leon. it’s a lot longer then i intended and i apologize lol

leon wasn’t one to heal easy.

not from his past, not from the missions when he saw more gore and blood then he wanted to. not when he had gagged every time he saw blood from that point foreword.

he was still healing when he walked into a grocery store about four months after his last mission. he was still healing when he grabbed one of those stupid baskets to carry your groceries in through the store.

he grabbed a couple bottles of alcohol, some snacks and some soap. essentials, things he needs. because sleeping without alcohol now is…it’s a lot harder then it used to be. just nightmares and images of bloodshed — he just says fuck it. he gets what he needs, what he wants and he goes up to the front of the store to pay.

what he doesn’t understand, when he sees you for the first time, is why your working in a grocery store of all places. your too beautiful for that, you should be doing something better, something worthy of your time. he doesn’t know a single thing about you yet and he’s willing to draw that conclusion.

you smile kindly at people from behind your register, your voice is kind and sweet. it draws something within him like a magnet, his heart is pounding, he’s going to explode or something. he used to be so good at talking to women but it’s declined as the years have gone by. he’s gotten tired, he just didn’t care like he used to.

he awkwardly sits his basket down on the conveyor belt of the register, you catch his eye and smile a little and it fucking does something to him. he knows he’s screwed beyond relief at that point. he smiles back, or tries to. he’s out of practice on that to, can’t remember the last time he’s smiled.

“this all for you?” you say softly, your eyes scanning over the bottles of alcohol, the snacks and the bottle of soap. he nods and chuckles a little, low and deep, just like his voice. “yeah, that’s all…” he grabs his wallet out of his back pocket of his jeans.

he wish he could say something better, something more positive and just something to grab your attention. he searches his brain as you tell him the total and he hands you the card. but he doesn’t have to say anything, you speak first.

“leon? that’s…you have a nice name.” you say and it snaps him out of his brain, he blinks those devastating blue eyes. ones that were once full of life, he nods. “my mom gave it to me.” he jokes lamely, or at least he thinks it’s lame until he hears your small little giggle.

he feels his heart beat with more confidence and energy now, like his one effort at making you smile is good enough. making you laugh is worth enough. you hand him his card back and put the receipt in the shopping bag, telling him to have a great day. not a nice day like you did with the others, but a great day. like you could tell he needed to hear that.

he walks out of the grocery store with the biggest, stupidest smile on his face. one that he has been a stranger to for months. he has you to thank for that.

the weeks that followed he came back to the grocery store, once maybe sometimes three times a week if he wasn’t sent off on a mission. he almost can’t help himself, he likes talking to you when your there.

you make him feel something he hadn’t felt in such a long time. it’s almost ridiculous, but he can’t help himself, it’s like an addiction. but it doesn’t involve him waking up with a hangover.

he keeps coming, week after week and buying things from the grocery store just to talk to you, just to see your sweet face. just to give him some kind of ray of sunshine that casts his whole body in a warm glow. making his heart beat faster.

but today was different, he was going to ask you out today. he was going to do it, he couldn’t be scared anymore. he couldn’t let you pass by anymore like something rare and just ignore you.

you were something to him. even if you didn’t even know that yet.

he walked up, carrying the same five things he always grabbed. his heart was pounding wildly, he was so out of practice but he just had to get out there and do it. just give himself something, he would hope you would say yes.

he put the items on the conveyor belt and waited until it was his turn, you finished checking out the customer in front of him and then turned to look at him. “hi stranger, haven’t seen you in awhile.” you say with a small frown, it’s adorable, it makes his heart melt.

he chuckles and shakes his head, “didn’t know you missed me.” he muses as he watches you start scanning his stuff. slowly and methodically almost as if you wanted this interaction to last longer too.

you sigh and shake your head, “of course i did, your my favorite customer.” you say with a small smile, and if he wasn’t looking so intently at you, he wouldn’t have noticed the subtle blush on your cheeks.

“i better be. goodness knows i give you guys enough business.” he chuckles playfully and flashes you a grin, almost as bright as the sun. he didn’t know where he was willing this confidence from, maybe it’s because he needed you. he needed you to at least attempt to be with him. you were the first light he has had in his life in a long time.

you scan his last item and he realizes it’s now or never, “26.73” you say as you lay out your hand for the card so he can pay. he reaches into his wallet and gives it to you, your fingers brush against each other. he wills himself to do it, to just do it now.

“uhm, i actually…i have a question for you.” he says with a small tremble of his hands, keeping his eyes on you to gauge your reaction behind the register. you look back up at him, swiping his card. “yeah?” you say and he could swear there’s almost hopefulness in your voice.

he swallows all the nerves down and attempts to keep himself calm enough to get this out, he can’t screw this up. he cannot screw you up, he would never forgive himself if he did.

“do you want to go out with me? like on a date?” he says and it’s so weird, the words feel foreign as they slipped from his mouth. usually women used to flock to him, but they didn’t anymore. his confidence with women had slipped right along with him trying to be sober all the time.

you blinked at him, holding onto his card in your small but intricate fingers. you seem to be thinking it over, weighing your options. he feels like the rejection is going to slip out of your lips at any given moment and he’s preparing himself for it.

then eventually, you respond, “i’d love to.”

now, it’s his turn to gawk and blink at you, almost perplexed that you are actually saying yes, accepting him and accepting this date. he can’t help the smile on his face, it’s almost stupid. you hand him the card and his brain goes on autopilot. you hand him the bag of his stuff, he grabs it and goes to walk away.

until, “wait! you forgot your receipt!” you yell behind him, holding up a slip of paper and waving it. he turns around and walks back to the register, his brows furrowed. you never gave him a receipt, he grabs the slip of paper from your fingers. he reads it over with confusion until he sees your number at the bottom, your hand writing and scribbles drawn with a little heart next to it.

he smiles, another genuine one that only you could conjure onto his face. “text me, we can set up a date.” you say to him, nodding towards the receipt. you look just as giddy as he feels inside. he nods, “absolutely. will do.”

he texts you the minute he gets home. and you respond. the texts keep going between you two until you both eventually settle on a date to go out. your both feeling like love-struck teenagers, so entranced with each other it’s almost borderline disgusting.

the week after you set the date passes and neither of you can hardly wait. you both have your reasons for being nervous, you both have that joy when you see each other but it shines in a different way. especially when he picks you up for your guy’s date.

you look stunning. stunning doesn’t even begin to cover it for him. you look like if heaven was a person, like an angel. that’s good enough reason for him to not let his blue eyes break from you all night.

and they don’t, they don’t ever break. not one second, he keeps his gaze on you at dinner, when your both talking and flirting aimlessly with each other. to leon, it feels good to have that someone; even if they don’t know it yet. that lights up their world and just makes it so much better.

he doesn’t break his gaze when you two walk by the lake, showing him all the birds and where they nest when winter comes closer. he admires the way you talk about small things, things that other people wouldn’t normally talk about or care about for that matter. but you took time, every week, to come feed the ducks and birds at this lake.

and he doesn’t break his gaze when he walks you back to your place, low intimate whispers that turn into slow kisses and touches. it doesn’t turn frantic, it just stays slow and gentle. it’s loving and it almost wants to make leon cry, because you care so much, this kiss just proves it.

because for the first time in a long time, you make him feel cared for. you make him feel wanted and it’s so much to him that he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

he wants you forever, he wants you as long as you let him have you. and he’s always going to take care of you, just like you’ve unknowingly taken care of him. taken the sadness away from him by just being in his life.

three months later, you and leon were dating.

you guys were the happiest people, it seemed you brought leon back from the edge. he opened up and you learned all you could about him. he got to learn more about you. and you both loved the idea of having that one confidant in each other.

the one you would have when you were sad, scared, angry, frustrated, etc. everything made sense with the two of you together. and you guys found that one piece that was missing within each of you. you guys were happy, leon was smiling a lot more then he usually did.

he didn’t drink his days away anymore, he didn’t come back from missions to an empty apartment and he didn’t have nightmares. it was still there but you dulled the ache, you filled that dark hole inside of him that had been gone for so long.

you made him happier, you made him recognize the man in the mirror again with your love. your love and everything about you made him better. he was better for you.

you had each other to soothe the gaps and ridges of your guys souls that were jagged. you had that thing that he was searching for, that he’d been missing for so long.

he loved you.

and nothing was ever going to change that.

an: i love you guys sm :,) thank you guys for reading my stuff and engaging. i was so worried when i started writing on tumblr that it wasn’t going to take. that no one would like my writing and i was wrong. you guys have given me so much support in liking my fics. it makes me so happy to have that support. it keeps me going. i love you all, i’ll be posting a one shot soon, keep up on my requests. pls reblog if you enjoyed, you guys know the drill. kisses, xx.

taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim (to join the taglist DM me or interact with my link at the beginning)

[ddarker-dreams]

play wresting — gojo satoru.

(Warning for mild not sfw implications)

“So this is it, then? I’ve finally… finally been bested.” 

From this vantage point, you tower over a certain melodramatic man, whose long limbs cover the king sized bed at awkward angles. His soft, snowy hair blends in with the stark white comforter. He tries lifting himself up, but his arms buckle from the exertion of such a physically demanding act. The feigned helplessness comes close to breaking your composure. 

“Humor a dying man’s final request,” Gojo rasps. “Did you ever love me? Or were you just after the money and status all along?” 

The term money and status reverberates in your head, taking you back to the rumors whispered behind closed doors by those opposed to your engagement. Gojo, being the person he is, delighted in playing into your supposed alternative motives whenever a ‘well-intentioned’ member of the more conservative factions tried tipping him off. 

“Babe? Did you hear that?” He had called you over once, a hand to his chest, as if he’d learned the most scandalous news. “This man here said you’re only after my assets. Is this true? I thought for sure it was my devastatingly good looks and charm that won you over.” 

(The face of the man in question went beet red over how loud Gojo spoke these words. Unsurprisingly, he slunk off at the earliest opportunity). 

You try assuming your role as the indifferent black widow here, looking down your nose at him. “Nope. I’ve been biding my time all these years.” 

You’re not sure what spurred him on to flex his acting muscles. When you entered the room, you were overcome with the urge to tackle him onto the bed. You’ve both loved roughhousing each other since you were in high school. Given the sheer, unfathomable extent of Gojo’s abilities, he was perfectly capable of dodging you or standing firm against your attempts. Alas, those two options must not have interested him. 

And so he’s writhing in faux agony, putting on a show, as he is wont to do. 

“Do I get any final requests?” 

“Hm,” you hum, fighting how desperately your lips wish to curl into a smile, “That depends. What is it?” 

Whatever he murmurs next is unintelligible. 

Curious, you step forward, urging him to repeat himself. He does. Despite speaking slightly louder, the syllables and consonants blur together, spoken in such rapid succession that your brain can’t piece it together. You draw close enough for your knees to hit the side of the bed. Whatever he’s planning, this must be the grand finale. 

This time, you understand him perfectly fine. You don’t know whether you should laugh or roll your eyes. Perhaps both. 

“Let me hit it, just one more time,” Gojo says these words as if in actual pain, successfully melting your apathetic facade. 

You can feel the satisfaction rolling off him in waves over the fact you broke first. Not willing to accept total defeat, you huff and pivot on your heels. You can feel his eyes boring into your back as you saunter toward the door. You answer the question that’s undoubtedly burning his tongue before he can speak it. 

“Consider your request denied. I need to start searching for my next rich husband — time is of the essence.” 

You gape as the once open door is now shut, faster than you could blink. In front of it is your apparently resuscitated Gojo Satoru, who acts as a human barricade. He extends his long arms out to ensure you’re not going anywhere. His grin is all teeth and his brilliant blue eyes gleam. 

“Sorry babe, this rich husband’s still alive and kicking. Better luck next time.” 

[copinghex]

Blood hands | T.S

Summary: After killing someone for the first time, Tommy's wife has to deal with the emotional consequences of it. Luckily, he's there to look after her.

She was terrible in biology, never got more than a B, it didn't matter how hard she studied. Every exam period she went to the tiny, dusty Birmingham's library and took notes from the anatomy books. Nothing ever changed.

Analyzing the drawings, she tried to make sense out of them, the muscles, joints and bones, wrapped together in the masterwork of the human body. It just didn't make sense to her, the subject simply wouldn't get into her brain and honestly, it disgusted her too. She had no wish to see beneath someone's skin, aware the reality was much more bloodier and morbid than the books.

Less than ten years later, she did, but unlike she imagined, the bile didn't rise to her throat expressing the deep disgust. Her eyes opened widely, unable to move from the mess of what once must've been a beautiful body.

The curly golden locks hid the agent's frightened looks, gladly, because the murderer in the train station wouldn't bear to face the lack of life in her blue eyes. 

Blood ran down her nose, her hands shook and her left eye stung. The woman who a few ago held her in disadvantage, sticking a sharp nail into her orb, was reduced to nothing by the train's velocity. A push was all it took.

Then, her trance was interrupted by the sound of steps, she ran away like a child avoiding punishment, not many people dared to fuck with a gangster's fiancée, but the ones who did certainly would make her look much worse in the train tracks.

As she headed home, carrying her heels in hand so she could walk faster, another haunting thought crept into her mind, Tommy, the reason why she had blood in her hands. She was sure he'd be dead when she got home, with a bullet Billy Kimber would've put in his brain.

For a moment she considered not going anywhere, simply sitting down on someone's pavement so she wouldn't have to deal with anything. 

If she only could, she'd ask God to allow her man to be alive when she got home, she couldn't, asking Him to save a man like Tommy felt like blasphemy or a joke of poor taste. There was no salvation for the Small Heath's devil, at least not from divine sources.

Swallowing the bitter taste of uncertainty, she walked home with a heavy heart. However, much for her surprise, Tommy stood at the front door, his eyes slightly widened at her awful state. Her throat burnt with the urge to cry as she dropped her heels and wrapped her arms around him, he winced in pain from the bullet hole in his chest, nevertheless, allowed her to hold him.

His name poured from her lips in quiet, relieved whispers. His attentive eyes were quick to capture every irregularity in her figure, bruised knuckles, teary eyes and bare foot. He had never seen her so broken.

"I was coming to pick you up," he explained, "what happened? Where were you?" 

Lifting her head from his shoulder, her still shaky hands hesitated in cupping his cheeks, resting on his shoulders instead. She negatively nodded and peeked at the wound under his coat.

"You're alive, that's all that matters," 

"What happened to you?" he insisted.

"Tommy, please," she breathed out, caressing the length of his arms, "not now, not fucking now," 

His jaw tightened as he fought the urge of arguing, he hated to have things hidden from him, but knowing he'd eventually find out anyway, he obliged to her wish.

Gently, his thumb met the eyelid of her wounded eye, "That's fucking bad," 

"I'll go to the pharmacy tomorrow, they'll give me something to get it better," she drawled, "now, tell me what happened," 

"...Danny whizz-bang is dead," was all Tommy deemed as relevant, guilt weighted heavily on the sergeant's voice, he was responsible for his soldiers' safety and he had failed Danny badly.

"Oh, darling," she muttered, "I'm so sorry," 

Looking away from her merciful eyes, he slightly nodded. Reaching for a cigarette from his silvery pack before saying, "We're at the Garrison now," 

"I'm not up for it, you can go back if you want," with a quick brush on his cheek, she entered home and in a quick decision, Tommy followed after, "I'll take a bath, then take a look at your bandages, who took the bullet out?" 

"Jeremiah," he drawled.

She nodded, glad someone gentle as the preacher looked after her husband when she wasn't able to. Heading to the bathroom, she only hoped the hot water would wash away the weight on her shoulders.

-

Rubbing her hands together, she watched the quiet street through the window, every now and then a lonely citizen walked past and this was all keeping her from dissociating.

The bath wasn't of great help, the relaxation it brought also lowered the adrenaline, making her muscles and wounds ache. A knot tightened on her throat as she tried to convince herself everything was fine. Everything was fine, Tommy was alive, no one was after them anymore, nothing else mattered, nothing.

The door suddenly opened, making her jump. Tommy entered the bedroom with a towel on his shoulder, his bare torso was still wet from his bath and he moved slowly, careful to not get his injury bleeding.

Attentively, she noticed his mind was far away from there, a pout decorated his lips and his brow was tense. Eager to sooth his worries, she whistled the stereotypical catcalling sound. 

"Hello, handsome," she weakly smiled.

Lifting his eyes, a nearly nonexistent smile crept into his face, "Quit that," 

She walked to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, "Do you come here often?" 

"In my bedroom?" he chuckled, "Yeah, quite often," 

She took advantage of his momentarily good humor to take a look at his wound. Before she could avoid it her eyes got filled with tears, she had nearly lost him today, not all the killing she was able to commit would've brought him back if she'd done so, he'd be gone, simple as that.

"D'you want to tell me what happened now?" Tommy cupped her face, trying to distract her.

"...I love you, Tom," was all she was able to mutter.

"I know, and I love you," 

Slightly nodding, she sighed, "What now?" 

"Well, I-" he hesitated, "I thought of opening a club in London," 

"About Danny," she sat at the end of the bed, "what about his family?" 

"We'll help them, financially," Tommy explained.

"Get his children a job?" 

"No, no more business for the Owens," he sighed, "they'll be normal, his children will never know why he died," 

Hearing his words, her throat tightened, a heavy feeling settled in her chest. Did the woman she killed had children? When she first got into the Garrison Tommy found out she did, but that was before they ever suspected she was a copper, how much of everything she said was lies? How would her child react to knowing its mother was dead on train tracks? 

Tommy watched his fiancée's state with pity in his eyes, he hated her stubbornness at the same time he was well aware of how much they were alike. Both closed off before trouble, hating to burden the other with issues they deemed personal. 

"You know, eventually you'll have to tell me what happened,"

Her watery eyes met his and she pulled him to stand between her legs, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on the soft skin of his stomach.

Gently, he petted her hair away from her face and his rough fingers on her face brought some relief, still, she felt like a wounded beast. A wounded beast is still a beast and she'd forever be a murderer regardless of Tommy's acceptance.

"Tell me, eh?" he whispered.

"Tommy, I-" before she could answer, three knocks on the door interrupted.

Arthur entered the bedroom with a worried expression, "Tommy, hm, I just wanted to tell you we found the body of that barmaid in the train tracks, Johnny Dogs wants to know if he should get rid of it," 

She froze, eyes widened at the news, she was so deep into her own guilt she didn't even think about the further consequences.

Tommy switched a look between her and his brother, with a slight nod, he ordered, "Get rid of it," 

Small Heath had another murderer to call resident, there was no way of hiding it now.

[067supremacy]

Friends With Benefits - Kang No Eul

Trigger warnings: sex, smut, dom Kang No Eul, sub Reader, strap-on sex, brief choking, orgasms, overstim…. 18+!!!

Masterlist

"Oh fuuuck" you scream out as your back arches as high as it possibly can. You must have been on your fourth orgasm by now, you had lost count a long time ago, but the guard behind the mask you had become familiar with wasn't done yet. "You look so fucking pretty right now." she moaned out as she brings her fingers to her mouth and sucking on her digits to taste you once more.

You swore that you just came again at the sight of her enjoying your cum. Kang No Eul was going to be the death of you at this rate, the sight of her sweaty forehead and messy hair stuck to her skin, her abs glistening in the same sweat, if you weren't so weak from the various rough poundings you would have pushed yourself up to jump on top of her, but alas your body didn't have the strength. Your eyes shot open when she climbed off the bed you shared to open her secret drawer, pulling out her favourite tool for this job, her strap....

"I can't take it. Mm tired." you complained but she was already wearing it and stalking toward you. "You can't, or you won't take it?" she replied seductively. "If you say you won't take it then I will put this back in the draw and end it here,,, if you say you can't take it then I guess we will find out, won't we?" she says while climbing on the bed and making sure to close the distance between you. So close that you could pull her in for a kiss. If only that was part of the arrangement you and Kang No Eul made you thought to yourself.

"I........... Can't take it." Her eyes got dark at the thought of you challenging her, she was going to make you take it. There was no going back now, you knew inside that she was feeling like the most powerful woman in the world right now and you wouldn't have her any other way. Her grin was undeniable, she was amused at the fact she had given you a way out but you couldn't go without it.

"Fuck, you really are insatiable aren't you?" she says as she spins you round so your face was buried in the pillow with your ass high in the air. "You can fucking take it. Cum on my strap, cum just for me" she grits out through her teeth.

The thick head of the strap is placed at your entrance before she pushes in down to the hilt, you squeal out but the pillow blocks most of the noise, No Eul gives you a second before starting at a slow pace, her skin lightly tapping against yours is a sweet sound for her but she isn't totally satisfied.... It needs to be louder with a faster pace. Her rhythm begins to pick up and becomes more forceful as she grabs your hips to pull you back into her thrusts every now then bringing her hand down on your ass wanting to leave a red hand print on you. How she wished she could feel your pussy pulsating all over her thick strap.

"Remember to let me know if it gets too much." No Eul states before roughly pounding into you. Her grip on your hips so tight that light bruising is already beginning to show, No Eul is working in overdrive, sweat literally pouring off her body as you take every inch of her. The strap reaches so deep in you that it almost shuts you down completely, and all you can do is take it, you said you couldn't but she was easily proving you wrong.

You slump on the strap as you cum once again but she still wasn't satisfied. Now she wants to hear you scream. As much as she loved to fuck you from behind, seeing your pretty face come undone at the end of her strap was almost as close as she could get to euphoria. With ease she flips you again so you are face to face with her, your eyes are glossed with lust, she looks so hot focusing on your pleasure. Her strap is pushed straight back in but this time, she had nothing but intent on literally fucking you through the mattress. Once again, all you can do is take it, her firm grip keeps your legs spread as her strap keeps prodding at the delicate spot deep inside which is sure to have you cumming hard once again for her. "Taking me so well, I knew you could take it, sweetheart." she moans into your ear as she continues to pump thoroughly into your soaking wet cunt. She could probably go for a few more hours if it meant hearing you scream the way you were, or the lewd sounds your pussy makes as her strap pounds in and out. One of her hands plant around your neck to give you limited air flow, this was new for you but you take it greedily nonetheless.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” you chant nonstop all the while taking everything she can give you.

After the strain of round after round the wear was beginning to kick in as your eyes felt heavy, your throat was destroyed from screaming and moaning, your body ached but you craved for this particular ache. Kang No Eul was the only person who could give you this.

just as you feel the pressure of another incoming orgasm close in, No Eul slows the pace a little, her grip on your legs loosening. This was unfamiliar territory for you, usually with No Eul she was rough and had no time to slow down she wanted you to feel thoroughly fucked after a session with her. But another side of her was beginning to show, No Eul lifted your chin with her finger and pecked your lips with hers followed by a shy smile from the girl who seconds earlier was making you feel all sorts of pleasure. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself," she whispered while looking into your lust-filled eyes.

“Just friends, okay?” that sentence runs through your brain like a bad memory. “Just friends, okay?” it repeats itself as you stay so close to her face. You could lock lips with her right now. But wouldn't this action ruin everything you already have going right now?

Luckily, you didn't have to worry about that. As if Kang No Eul had read your mind she leans in again just before touching your lips “fuck the agreement,” she whispers as she plants her lips on yours in a passionate kiss that felt more real than anything else you had ever felt. If it weren't for the fact that her strap was still 7 inches deep in you and the foggy mind from the rough sex session you had just experienced this would be super romantics right now. With all this going on you still hadn't forgot that you were so close. You just needed a little more.

“I haven't forgot about you, love.” No Eul says cockily. But instead of letting her hips take off in the usual manner, her strokes are more controlled and deliberate, the pace is refreshing. She looks into your eyes and kisses you again almost like she is now addicted to your lips.

“Come on, cum for me one more time. I've got you.” she speaks confidently as she interlaced your hands together still keeping up with the slow but powerful strokes, this felt like heaven. It wasn't long before you came apart for the last time. As you uncontrollably shake before her, she held you down whispering in your ear about having you and not leaving you. It was like a whole other world compared to the other times where once you were over the edge she was quick to get out of the way, probably not wanting to confuse the situation you thought.

As you come down from your high she showered your face with sweet kisses and reassurances “You did amazing,” she claims. Her voice soothing you like no one else could.

“You know, as fun as friends with benefits is, I was thinking that we should talk about that. How would you feel about being something more?” No Eul asks as she pulls the strap out of you and collapses on the bed next to you.

“You don't have to answer me right now, I - just maybe, you know, maybe-,” you cut her off before she could finish that sentence. “I think that we should explore being something more,,,, as long as you promise this won’t stop either,” your sentence accompanied by you snuggling into her side which she gladly accommodates. Yet another new experience for the pair of you. You didn't know where this would lead to, but you both wanted more than just friends with benefits. Maybe this could work out after all.

[ikimaru]

when and how did you find your art style? has it changed much over time?

I'm gonna go on a tangent here bc it's pretty interesting for me to look back on aksjd

I don't think it was really linear in a point A to point B kinda way, I still got it more or less where I wanted it to but I can't say it felt streamlined

my first fandom was pokemon anime, so I was 100% set on learning that style first bc that was fun to me, instead of learning basics or anything I went right in and learned how to draw humans in that style, then I got into Death Note so I had to learn an entirely different style bc the previous one didn't help at all, I didn't stick with it very long tho because THEN I got into vocaloid and various anime and more colorful characters so it was pretty much the huge eyes - dot nose style for a while

*then* I got tumblr and this site was very.. overwhelmingly cartoon-oriented so I quickly took an interest in cartoony styles and learned the style which I used between 2011-2016 pretty much, I think that was the first one where I could be like "it's mine" bc I was actively figuring out things I liked and putting my spin on them and it was so fun

but by the time I got into vld I wanted it to be more more complex so I was focusing more on learning lighting, anatomy and making the faces less cartoony annd I really wish I tackled the style of faces differently and I didn't end up hating drawing for several years in the process without even realizing it BUT Anyway

with gnshn last year is when I finally started compiling all the things I liked about drawing again from past styles and also new things so I can all combine it together at last, which is something I haven't done in huh 6(??)+ years.. ughhh lmao I really had to stop and be like "what do I WANT my art to look like?" and I'm still working on it

but yeah basically, it IS a lot more streamlined if you pick tutorials and go like that's a good™️ style to learn and go from there, instead of learning/unlearning things over and over like I did, I don't regret learning the previous styles tho, each of them were what I wanted out of it at the time, but there was a learning curve every single time

anyway your art path is your own whether you choose to get better in the faster way possible or do detours or something else, once you have a set of things that feel personal to you in how you draw them and you can comfortably use that to draw whatever u want to, you'll just know, it doesn't have to happen asap c:

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

undercover bait | s.r. x liaison!fem reader

tw: criminal minds type case. use of the words (killer, rapist, whore. mentions of killing and blood) 3K

it was weird for spencer to see you fashioned in non-work attire. dressed in a baby pink mini dress that hugged to your figure with ruffles at the bottom, your back was open and you had a plunging neckline. sparkly heels that gave you a few extra inches and a small pink clutch, your hair was styled along with your usually bare face that was now dolled up from jj’s help. your eyes were smoky and seductive, a more than natural blush to the apples of your cheeks and your lips were glossed and shiny. spencer’s eyeline kept bouncing between your lips and lower, he wanted to fight his brain.

“well hot damn,” derek stood beside him. he gave a low whistle as you waltzed into the conference room of the local las vegas police station. there was a string of assaults and murders along a street of packed clubs, there was too many bodies so the bau was sending in unsub bait, and you happened to be picked.

“i wouldn’t be able to tell it’s you. looking like any other pretty girl partying the night away.” spencer saw how you rolled your eyes at the compliment. probably in a friendly teasing manner.

crossing your arms over your chest, oh gosh, and cocking a hip you tilted your head, “i wasn’t deserving of that nickname before, morgan?” asked with a fake pout. spencer doesn’t bother diverting his eyes, you pulled him into a trace. your beauty was something he wished could be for his eyes only.

he heard derek click his teeth, “oh we know you were, this one wouldn’t dare disagree. ain’t that right, pretty boy?” a nudge to spencer’s arm caused him to blink back to earth.

“what?” a deer in the headlights, his eyes were wide and he was frozen. derek smirked smugly at him while your sculptured brows furrowed in worry, “you okay?” stepping closer to him, your heels clicking on the linoleum.

his neck and ears felt warm, “uh yeah. yeah, just worried for you. not- not that something will happen, just that you’re usually away from the field and- and you’ve never done an undercover.”

spencer eyed your smooth lips as you rubbed them together, “it’s definitely new and nerve wracking, but if it’ll help the case that’s all that matters.” shrugging it off.

the way you tossed your life off made spencer frown, “your life comes before the case. if you feel unsafe, we’ll pull you out.” wanting you to understand that none of the team would put your life at risk, spencer especially. he’d keep you within reach of him if possible but he’s supposed to stay in the stakeout van.

you smiled prettily, it was extra nice with the blush, “i know. i trust you.” he hoped he wasn’t imagining the way you emphasized you. putting the trust of your wellbeing into his hands, it made his heart race.

“ready?” hotch entered the room and stopped beside you. his stone face nodding as you confirmed, “i’ll drop you off and pass over your earpiece. emily is already waiting at the bar, she’ll be your look out, when she locates him try and discreetly engage. flirt, be touchy, anything that’ll want him to draw you away.” you nodded along to the information. spencer felt his insides twist.

“when he leads you away, say ‘i’d like some fresh air’ and emily will also confirm. we’ll have all exits secured, no one comes or goes without us knowing.” he made sure that you knew you weren’t gonna be on your own. not a single hair on your head was gonna be harmed trying to take down this killer.

that thought made acid rise in spencer’s throat, they were sending you to a killer and a rapist. just one simple slip up and you could become another victim, spencer had to restrain himself from keeping the both of you locked away.

as everyone was walking to their respective cars he stopped you by taking ahold of your hand, his larger ones enveloping yours and it made his heart beat faster. “if- if you need some type of company just ask about a random fact. i’ll provide the answer.” he wanted to be with you every step of the process.

your fingers squeezed along his comforting, “thank you, spence.” you pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, not needing to press onto your tiptoes. spencer closed his eyes and let his head lean into the touch, wanting to savor this moment.

a loud coughing pulled both of you from the safe bubble to see hotch with his arms crossed, “can we be professional?” his eyes mostly set on spencer, probably thinking about having him sit out.

“yes sir,” speaking for you both. you gave spencer’s hand one more reassuring squeeze before slipping free with hotch following a moment after.

-

“if you’re not comfortable, emily is fine doing it alone.” hotch spoke after ten minutes into the drive. the surveillance van drove the other direction and he’ll meet up with them after dropping you.

you fidgeted with his blazer that was thrown over your lap, “why does everyone keep telling me that?” mumbled to yourself. “do none of you believe i can do this?” eyes honed in on hotch’s side profile.

he looked to you briefly then back to the road, “it’s not that. we’re just worried, this wasn’t your training.” you barely passed self defense training, staying in the shadows was more your thing.

you scratched at your thumbs knuckle, “i just- i just feel i could be more valuable to the team. i- i don’t want to be the extra liaison then have you realize there’s no point for two.” you flattened your palms over your clothed knees.

“you may not see your importance for this unit, but you’re a glue helping us stay together. you’re more than an assist or liaison, your family and a beloved friend.” he rolled to a stop a store from the bar.

he held your earpiece in his open palm, “we just want to make sure you understand that it’s okay to put yourself first. there’s nothing wrong with changing your mind.” he spoke softly, a full sincerity dripping in his words.

you picked the small device from his hand, eyes meeting his shaded ones, “i can do this.” a slight hardness in your tone.

hotch just nodded in understanding, “just remember the code phrase for when he’s taking you outside. emily can jump in if needed.” back to ssa mode.

you took a deep exhale and grabbed your clutch, “is it okay if i have one drink on the job?” joking but also a bit serious. you need something to calm your nerves.

hotch raised a brow, “kidding. kidding.” you passed him back his suit jacket and pushed open the door, putting yourself in character as you stretched your bare leg out and pretended you were in a music video. shutting the door behind you, shimming your shoulders you strutted to the bar entrance.

“show time.”

-

“calm down, pretty boy. she’ll be fine.” derek’s words did nothing to comfort spencer’s racing mind. they only had access to one security camera and emily’s own eyes, you could easily slip through the crowd without any of them knowing.

spencer’s knees bounced, “just wish i could be in there as well. be back up.” his eyes stayed focused on your static figure near the end of the bar, leaning your chest in as you curved your back and kicked a foot in the air. he felt his mouth pull into a frown as he saw different men and women looking in your direction, a couple walking over to you at the bar.

derek hummed, “sure does look like she needs a man like you to protect her from those tipsy bar crawlers. you could split the free drinks she’s gonna accumulate.” he nudge an elbow into spencer’s bicep, “oh lighten up man. we all know your the only one on her mind, those chums don’t stand a chance.”

spencer kept his eyes focused on the screen. you had an arm propped up, pushing into your cheek as your head moved to survey the space.

“tell me about seahorses, spence.” your voice a whisper but clear enough to be heard over the loud music. spencer perked up, ignoring the judging eyes of rossi and morgan.

“well two most common facts are that male seahorses are the ones who carry out the pregnancy and they mate for life, one of the few species.” a hum was heard on their end. “also seahorses are the world's most uncommon species, and they have to eat all the time.”

it went silent on your end, they could see you turning your back to the bar with a drink in hand as you scoped out the room. then emily’s voice crackled to life, “leather jacket with the guns and roses shirt. twelve o’clock.”

spencer’s eyes made quick work to spot their unsub. he stood a bit off to the side of the crowded floor, a beer bottle in his hand that he lifted to his lips for a minute then back down. he stuck close to the shadows, bits of him being highlighted by overhead lighting, even through the fuzzy imagine spencer was able to spot the moment his eyes landed on you.

“he’s heading in your direction, y/n.” derek reported over the mic so you could prepare for the approaching man. the monitor showed your back straightened as you curled your body into a more provocative stance, the unsub sliding into the open space between you.

spencer and derek could hear your end of the conversation, the flirtatious tone sweetening your words mixed together with a soft feminine laughter that stirred butterflies in spencer’s stomach. he took a deep swallow when he saw you place a palm to the man’s bicep, he had to clench his hands into fist on his lap.

“your girl is doing good out there,” derek praised your show. spencer proudly took that title to heart, his girl. “i know, just don’t like having her within reach of a killer.”

“i’d love some fresh air.” the code phrase causing everyone to hurry to position. spencer went with derek to a back alley exit while hotch and emily were stationed for the front, local cop’s canvas the block.

“everyone in position?” hotch’s voice echoed over the radios. derek radioed back, “ready,” and now they just had to wait for the both of you to exit the bar.

after five minutes they knew something went wrong in that quick exchange. “anyone have eyes on, l/n?” hotch’s stern voice wavered just a bit through everyone’s earpieces.

“i lost her in the crowd,” emily’s worried tone as her breath sounded just a bit airy. spencer could feel his heart crawling up his throat, ready to spill onto the ground.

you’re mia with a killer rapist.

-

everything was in a blurry haze, a sharp pain stabbing behind your eyes all the way to the back of your skull. your eyelids were weighted down, it took so much concentration just to peel them open so you can find your surroundings. your limbs were heavy, you could barely lift a finger.

the space was dark except for a single hanging light in the middle of the space, a harsh yellow glow only highlighting a small circle of area. it looked to be a basement of sorts, barren of furniture except for the bed you were laying on and a wooden table off to the side. you tried rolling off the mattress but stopped short by the chains wrapped to your wrist and ankles.

“finally awake. worried i used a bit too much before i could have my fun.” a deep voice hidden in the dark corners.

the chains clinked together, “wha- where are we?” your flight or fight starting to activate, and you can’t even choose either option. “jason, what is this?”

it was silent for a beat, just your heavy breathing then you heard deep footsteps that carried the unsub into the fluorescent light. “your team must think i’m real stupid to not notice what this was. a fucking trap, well jokes on you, you’re my next victim.” his hands jumping out to grab your throat in a tight hold, restricting your airway. your body twisting unlessly in an attempt to escape his hold.

“you’ll just be another dead whore that i rip and shred to pieces, not a single piece of your body left behind for the fucking fbi to find. just another unsolved case, another hole to-“

jason was cut off by someone yanking him from behind. you took gulping inhales that brought a harsh coughing to your damaged throat. a shadow loomed over you and you whimpered in fear, “no, no, no. ple- please.” starting to sob in terror of whatever horror will be brought to you.

“it’s spencer, love. it’s just me, i’m gonna uncuff you now.” you kept your eyes squeezed shut as you hear the small click of the cuffs being undone and peeled away from your irritated skin. you immediately curled into yourself, needed to be as small as possible.

“we have emts coming right now.” a soft, gentle voice spoke near you, it brought a warmth to you compared to that icy chill from earlier. a touch to your bicep caused you to flinch and cause more tears to fall.

“it’s spencer, he’s gone. we need to get you checked out.” he kept his voice low, tucking his arms close to his chest in fear of startling you more. your eyes slowly peeked out and stared the doctor down, “spence…” his name weak on your tongue.

he smiled shakily, “yeah, love. it’s me, he’s in custody now.” spencer shook off his fbi jacket and held it open for you, “you must be cold. why don’t we go upstairs?” he helped your arms through and zipped you up.

spencer protectively led both of you out into the red and blue lights surrounding the property, he tucked you closer when swat and officers walked past or stared at the both of you.

one of the emts greeted you both and asked for you to lay down on the bed in the back, she shined a light over your eyes causing you to groan at the sharp pain it caused. “looks like you have a concussion and your throat is gonna be sore for about a week with bruising to follow. keep an eye on her, take her to the hospital if she starts vomiting or passing out.” giving the advice to spencer then leaving you both alone.

“why don’t we head back to the hotel? they can handle everything from here.” spencer’s thumb rubbed softly against your makeup rosy cheek. you nodded, “pro- probably best.”

-

the shower was scorching, you needed to rub yourself raw to rid his filthy touch from every inch of skin. the running water was cloudy and muddy from dirt and your foundation then finally turned clear with bubbles of body wash circling the drain.

a knocking on the door snapped you from your spiral, “you doing okay?” spencer’s concerned words made you swallow harshly to reply back, “yeah. almost done.” you could feel a few tears mixing with the running water.

the small hotel bathroom was well steamed up, the little fan barely doing anything. you toweled off your hair then quickly wiped your body down before throwing on your giant sleep shirt and plaid shorts. you wiped a hand on the mirror to see your red eyes watching you, judging you.

why’d you think this was something you could do? you’re a media liaison, not a fucking behavior analysis agent. sure you want to be more involved with cases moving forward, but this taught you that field work wasn’t something you were cut out for. if it was emily or elle they would’ve been able to find a way out and save themselves, but you just laid there and pleaded for your life, just like those other girls before.

numbly you exited the bathroom, strands of damp hair wetting your cotton. spencer sat on the foot of the bed, his head bent and hands folded into his lap. he looked up just as you moved to sit beside him, your back was rod straight until you just slumped into yourself and leaned your head onto his shoulder. everything just poured out.

“i- i- i could’ve di- died.” you felt spencer shift and wrap his arms behind your shoulders while yours held tightly to his waist. “i- i don’t want to do- do that to you.”

“i know you don’t,” he whispered beside your ear, “and i’m sorry he got past us, luckily hotch sewed a tracker into your dress and garcia found it quickly.”

“i- i didn’t want to be his next victim. is- is that selfish?”

“no, absolutely not. those other girls didn’t know about him so they couldn’t properly defend themselves, but you didn’t. you know what he’s capable of.” spencer placed a kiss to your temple, “and i selfishly wouldn’t want you to be another victim. i’d never forgive myself.”

you leaned your head away to look into his soft brown eyes, “it wasn’t your fault. i agreed to doing it.”

his large palm caressed your cheek, “but i should’ve tried harder to- to be a second watch or- or something. i should’ve done more.”

“hey,” your fingers circled his wrist, “don’t blame yourself. let’s- let’s not go back and forth on what we should’ve done. i’m alive and in your arms, i love you and we have another day together.” turning to kiss the heel of his palm.

“okay,” spencer whispered. he leaned in slowly, wanting you to take the lead for your comfort. your lips touched gently at first, a small lingering peck before you pushed in and let your lips wrap around spencer’s more firmly. you let yourself melt into his touch, feeling at peace for the night.

you gave him one more solid kiss, “why don’t we get some sleep?” spencer nodded and the both of you quickly made yourselves comfortable in the bed, spencer’s back to the door as he pulled your back close to his chest with his arms keeping you secure. “i got you, love. i’m always here for you.”

-

a/n: be honest, when i write longer fics do they seem messy halfway through?

[just-a-girl-who-loves-tmr]

Headcanons

Recovery, Post death-cure, safe haven

(I’m sorry in advance)

Tw: depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts/attempts, self harm, panic attacks etc

Thomas

- This man has some extreme survivors guilt from everything.

- He gets flashbacks, especially in dreams, of him working with WICKED, helping them build the maze and having to watch his friends through the beetle blades.

- He feels responsible for everything his friends went through in the glade and for not trying harder to help them (even though the others have continuously told him that they don’t blame him and it wasn’t his fault).

- Even through the scorch, he feels guilty for not doing more to help because if he had only acted faster, they might not be there at all.

- He sometimes has panic attacks because of this and on the worst days he wishes he could have died instead of his friends because he feels like their deaths were his fault.

- Occasionally he turns to self harm, believing that he deserved to feel the pain he put his friends to.

- Newt found him once with the knife in his hand and immediately stopped him, cleaning the cuts and making Thomas promise never to do it again because nothing was his fault and he doesn’t deserve to feel pain.

- Newt then makes it a regular occurrence to draw little butterflies on Thomas’s wrist and arms (iykyk)

- Newt got really worried the first time Thomas had a panic attack in front of him because he didn’t really know what to do to help but he slowly figured out little ways to calm him down.

- Taking him to a quiet, familiar place, helping him breathe, making him tea and cuddling up with a blanket and a movie on in the background

Newt

- I think I already covered this in another post but being sick is a huge trigger for Newt. He gets super edgy and Thomas can tell. He continuously checks his arms just in case the veins are black

- I’m convinced he’s got Emetophobia (fear of throwing up) because it triggers memories of when he had the flare and he felt nauseous all the time.

- His immune system is weaker than everyone else’s so he gets sick a lot more often than the others and even a simple cold would have him shivering in bed all day with tea and five blankets

- Newt also doesn’t like to acknowledge the fact that he’s sick because he doesn’t want people fussing over him and asking him if he’s okay so he will just say ‘I’m fine’ as he’s actively throwing up.

- He usually distances himself whenever he’s ill because he’s scared that he’s not cured and is going to snap and hurt someone but Thomas isn’t having it.

- Thomas will wrap him up in a blanket and hug him until Newt stops struggling to get away and melts into a little shivery puddle in Thomas’s arms

- Once he’s finally accepted that he is ill, Newt becomes very very clingy towards Thomas and stays in bed all day with tea and a hot water bottle

- I also think Newt and Brenda would be really good friends in the safe haven because they’ve both had the flare before (obviously Brenda was cured relatively quickly but still) so they can relate to each other and Newt sometimes feels like Brenda’s the only one who really knows what he went through, so he talks to her about it when he doesn’t want to go vent to Thomas or Minho

- He has a lot of nightmares from when he was a crank, often dreaming that he had died or else had cracked and hurt someone and more than once has woken up screaming with tears in his eyes and blood in his mouth because he bit his tongue so hard.

- His broken leg gets better over time but it never fully heals. Jorge told him that he should really be using a cane or a crutch but Newt done right refuses either because he hates people making a fuss over it and he will still work even if the pain is so bad he literally has to hop around (Thomas isn’t having this either and drags Newt to bed and massages his leg for him)

- Newt still had suicidal thoughts. They aren’t as strong as they were in the glade and he doesn’t seriously consider trying anything but it’s always in the back of him mind. Thomas is the one who gets him his little safety pin necklace because he knows it’s something Newt struggles with ( and yes Newt did cry when Thomas gave it to him. Tell me I’m wrong)

I will do Minho, Gally, and everyone else but I’m splitting it up into different posts just so y’all aren’t waiting forever <33