#and only left because I turned the reverse lights on

[random-kido]

Genuinely hate when anyone approaches my car when i get to work early, makes me quesy

[writingouthere]

singledad!Sukuna x neighbor!reader-Sukuna and Yuuji really want you to join their family! role reversal from my other series, think this will just be a one-shot though. Yuuji is Sukuna's brother but he's raised him since he was a baby and Yuuji calls him dad.

cw: Sukuna is manipulative and also a murderer but everyone's happy and you're both aware so it's okay. this is really just fluff.

"I....want you to be my mommy?"

Sukuna scowled as Yuuji looked more confused than ever.

"No, no that is not what you're saying kid. You're just going to tell her about how the other kids' mommies on the playground make you feel left out."

"But they don't, Megumi's mommy always gives me a snack when I'm hungry!"

"That's not his mommy, that's Megumi's daddy," Sukuna corrected, wondering if this was just a hopeless endeavor. He could have easily followed a plan this simple when he was four, but Yuuji was too soft. This was what happened when you raised a kid in a stable, loving environment. They lost the ability to go for the jugular when needed.

"But Megumi's daddy calls him mommy?" Sukuna didn't hold back his groan. You were going to be coming back from your morning walk any minute. He didn't have time for Yuuji to not get basic directions or to explain the dynamics of that Gojo family.

"Look when we go out there, just look sad and I'll handle the rest."

"But I'm not sad, I'm happy. We're going to the park and Megumi's mommy is bringing mochi today!"

"Shit kid, do you want a mom or not?" Sukuna asked, trying not to roll his eyes as be bent down to snap on the velcro straps on Yuuji's light up sneakers.

"I don't need a mom, I have you," Yuuji said. He looked uncharacteristically defiant and Sukuna couldn't help feeling proud of his little brother.

It had been touch and go when Yuuji was a baby. Sukuna had still been a kid himself and they didn't have any money and Yuuji's mom was even crazier than Sukuna's. Their father nowhere to be seen. Since Sukuna and Uraume had spread the pieces of his corpse around the city.

Sukuna pushed these memories aside and ruffled Yuuji's hair. "I know you don't need one, we only need each other." Yuuji nodded, his little head moving with all his conviction. "But it might be nice, right?"

Yuuji seemed thoughtful before finally biting his lip and looking down at his sneakers. He tapped them, making the red and black lights flash.

"She's really nice, I like her."

"I like her too," Sukuna said and he heard the sound of your sneakers slapping against the tiled hallway. "So let's go and look sad, okay?" Yuuji nodded, determined now and Sukuna grabbed his backpack before the two brothers went out into the hall.

You were just taking your keys out of your bag and you turned to the brothers, a smile on your face. "Good morning gentlemen, it's nice to see you. Heading out?"

That was when you noticed Yuuji's downturned expression. Sukuna saw your face shift into one of concern and he resisted a smirk.

Sukuna cleared his throat and squeezed Yuuji's hand. Good boy. "We're heading out to the park, you know the one by the high school."

"Oooh, that's nice. You like that park, right Yuuji? You said it was the biggest one in the whole city," you crouched down so you could look Yuuji in the eye and Yuuji seemed to forget he was supposed to be sad for a minute because he jumped up and down, the lights of his shoes flashing in the dim hallway.

"Yeah, it has the best swings too!" You ooohed and aawed appropriately while Sukuna tried not to smack his head against the wall. Maybe he and this kid weren't related after all, fuck.

Yuuji seemed to notice his expression because he stopped jumping to look down at feet. He put out his lower lip and used the tip of one of shoes to mess with a scuff mark on the linoleum. It would have made a more pathetic visage if his shoes weren't still lit up.

"Yuuji," you said, coming closer so you could kneel on the ground in front of the boy. The sight of you on your knees did something to Sukuna, but he pushed it aside to see what the brat had in mind. So far, he wasn't impressed with the performance. "Is something wrong?"

"It's just," Yuuji let out a sad sigh that wouldn't get him a gig in a car commercial. "Megumi and his mommy will be there and it makes me feel sad because all the other kids have mommies and I don't." God, there was no way you could be buying this, Sukuna looked at you and saw that your eyes looked a little watery.

Huh, look at that. Maybe he wouldn't have to kick the kid out, after all.

"I'm sorry Yuuji, that must be hard," you said and you reached out and swiped out where Yuuji had even managed to shed a tear. Sukuna felt so proud. "But I know that your dad is really excited to take you and the two of you are going to have so much fun!"

"Could you come too?" Yuuji asked and you bit your lip. Yuuji looked up and batted his little doe eyes at you. "It would make me really happy if you came with us. We could all have fun together."

"I wouldn't want to intrude-"

"It wouldn't be intruding," Sukuna cut in. "If you're busy though no worries, I know we'll have fun just the two of us. Right, Yuuji?"

Yuuji bit his lip and Sukuna could tell he was torn between showing how excited he was to spend time with his dad and being 'sad' so you would join them.

You looked between the two before seeming to come to some kind of decision. "If you don't mind waiting while I change, I'd be happy to join you two. Should I bring anything?"

"I think we're all set. We'll wait outside for you," Sukuna said and Yuuji went up and gave you a big hug that you returned.

Sukuna took Yuuji outside to wait for you, the kid occupying himself with a mostly washed away hopscotch chalk sketch. Sukuna alternated between watching him and texting Uraume who was claiming to be over him and his nonsense. Sukuna would take it more seriously if Uraume hadn't been saying that for going on twenty years. He knew they loved him, fucking sap.

Soon, but not soon enough, you came bounding down the stairs. A scarf tied around your neck, your turtleneck exposed by the open top button of your coat. He couldn't keep letting you be single, looking all pretty like that. He was too greedy for that.

Besides, looking the way you did and knowing your big heart, it was just a matter of time before some nice loser tricked you into settling with them and he just couldn't have that. The idea of you taking someone else home to your warm apartment with it's million throw blankets and a cookie jar, an actual cookie jar, he was convinced you kept stocked up just for Yuuji, made him want to commit another murder.

"Ready?" you asked and Sukuna nodded while Yuuji took your hand in his right and Sukuna's in his left.

"Let's go!"

Yuuji's enthusiasm was contagious and the two of you chatted all the way to the park. Sukuna saw some people shoot you all looks as you walked. Sukuna was used to people viewing him with suspicion, even fear. His tattoos, dyed hair and general demeanor making people cross the street to avoid him. Something about you and Yuuji seemed to balance him out though and people reacted as if they were just looking at a cute family going out on a Saturday.

You didn't seem to notice either way and just continued talking to Yuuji about some new anime for kids Sukuna had probably had to suffer through but hadn't retained any memory of.

As soon as you all got to the park, Yuuji took off with barely a good-bye. You seemed concerned and Sukuna bumped your shoulder with his. "Don't stress, he just sees the Fushiguro kid over there. See, they're already fucking around."

He pointed to where Yuuji was chasing around a scowling dark haired boy the same age as him. Sukuna didn't buy the scowl for a second.

He had once run into the kid and his weird dads at the grocery store and the kid had scolded him when he figured out Yuuji wasn't with him. Sukuna would have knocked the kid down a peg if he wasn't actually four years old and if his 'mommy' didn't low key give him the creeps. Sukuna was pretty sure he wasn't the only person guilty of homicide currently at this playground.

"That's so cute," you cooed and Sukuna nodded along while he took you over to some picnic tables. Unfortunately one of them was already occupied.

"Aww if it isn't Sukuna. How nice it is to see your lovely face on a Saturday morning!"

"Gojo."

Sukuna was ready to leave it there but then the bastard got up and walked over. His partner continued sipping on a large cup of boba, watching from his seat although he gave you a little wave.

"Who is this, new girlfriend?" Gojo asked tilting down his sunglasses to look you up and down.

You laughed and introduced yourself while Megumi's parents did the same. Gojo grabbed your hand when you held it out and kissed the back of it, his lips curved into a smile even as he lingered, his fingers clearly holding onto where your pulse would be. Sukuna moved closer to you and put a hand around your waist, the gesture a clear sign for the other man to back off which Sukuna knew Gojo understood because the bitch fucking smiled at him.

Sukuna didn't necessarily take any of Gojo's flirtations seriously. He flirted with every mom and dad on the playground, including him when they first met. He'd even seen him flirt with the guy who worked the ice cream truck so egregiously the kid had looked on the verge of passing out. His partner never seemed bothered and Sukuna wondered if he was just that secure in the relationship or if he hoped someone would finally come along and get the annoying man away from him.

As usual though, Gojo lost interest quickly and went back to his husband who didn't say anything as Gojo lay across his lap like some kind of housecat.

"There are children here," Sukuna said. Mostly out of spite and not jealousy that the two of you weren't curled up like that.

"Don't be homophobic," Gojo said and you snorted before looking innocent when Sukuna shot you a look.

"Alright, let's go see what Yuuji's up to." Sukuna went along with your excuse, mostly just because he liked the feeling of your hand in his. The two of you wandered closer to the playground where Megumi and Yuuji were currently engaged in a game with some other kids that Sukuna couldn't have possibly guessed the subject of.

The kids alternated running around the large structure, disappearing into tunnels, jumping down to hide underneath slides and behind climbing walls. Every time Yuuji popped back up to view he would wave and call out to you both. Sukuna still felt a little warm whenever the kid called him dad and the look you gave him after made him feel caught.

"So, I can see why Yuuji was so sad those morning. Megumi's parents are just vicious monsters," you said and Sukuna was so taken aback he knew his expression didn't hide it well. You smiled and swung your hand that was still in his, turning so you could look at him.

"I don't think that's what the issue was," Sukuna managed and you nodded.

"Right, it must have been because he's so lonely," you said before the two of you were interrupted by the sound of children's ecstatic laughter. You both looked to where Yuuji was now being chased by an entire horde of children.

"I'm the curse, you have to catch me," he yelled out and the other children screamed and laughed as they tried to grab him. Yuuji had never had a hard time making friends and that was very evident in the way he got kids of all ages, even the quiet ones to join in on his game.

"You can have friends and still be lonely," Sukuna argued and you gave him just the softest look. It wasn't fair for you to see through his schemes and still look at him like that.

"Are you lonely, Sukuna?" You got closer to him, your hand still got in his and you were so warm. "Maybe I should come home with you, then?"

Sukuna couldn't have stopped himself from kissing you even if he wanted to, which he didn't. He let go of your hand so he could cup your face in both of his palms. You moaned your approval into his mouth and he responded by nipping your upper lip, pulling you up to meet him as he leaned down to kiss you. Sukuna was about to risk another arrest by taking you right here in the park before a familiar voice called out to the both of you.

"Hey now, there's children here."

Sukuna turned to give the infuriating dumbfuck a piece of his mind when you distracted him by pulling him back to you and giving him a quick peck on the lips. He could leave the fight with Gojo for another day, he supposed. He knew he'd win anyway.

You're smiling and you look so happy and Sukuna doesn't feel the least amount of guilt in getting you here. Even if you knew it was a trick.

Although.

Did this mean you knew that all those times he was "stuck at work" and needed someone to watch Yuuji were a lie too? Or that he actually could cook and the one time he set the building fire alarm off had been because he started an actual fire and not just him burning dinner and two of them didn't actually need you to invite them to dinner so much? Did you also know that your radiator hadn't just stopped working randomly but he had broke it, knowing you would call him because your super never answered, and when he said a part was still missing and you would just have to stay the night at his and Yuuji's place-

Sukuna looked at you more closely and you just kept smiling.

As Yuuji called for the two of you to come help him and Megumi on the swings, Sukuna wondered if he had ever trapped you, even once. Or if you had just let him catch you.

Watching you push Yuuji as the boy screamed for you to go "higher, higher!" he decided he didn't care. Fuck, it might just be better. Knowing you were maybe as crazy as he was.

shout out to the dad at the park today who had the audacity to play with his toddler and have a cute dog at the same time.

also I liked the end of this so much I may just write a prequel of Sukuna and reader taking turns gaslighting the other into a relationship, we'll see.

Edit: wrote the prequel, here!

[seoulbye]

A MINOR INFRACTION | TOJI FUSHIGURO

syn. you'd do anything not to get a speeding ticket. | 3.0k words ( minors, ageless, and blank blogs: do not interact. )

── police officer!toji fushiguro & fem-bodied!reader, pwp, power imbalance, a nasty & filthy blowjob, deepthroating, gagging, public sex (roadside), cum swallowing.

note. i need toji in a way that is so filthy and disgusting and nasty. it's so bad. also, here is an accurate representation of what i want to do to his cock, and what reader will be doing in this fic.

You weren’t a patient person. You didn’t like to wait for things and often found yourself impatient in long grocery lines. You’d huff and puff silently to yourself, sending people a faux smile when they dared to look in your direction. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when exactly in your life did you build up such a low tolerance for the virtue, but you don’t exactly care. If you want something, you’ve got to have it as soon as possible. And you desperately want to get home. 

Unlike the grocery store, you have an even worse tolerance for traffic and slow drivers. There were always the ones that went too slow in the fast lane, forcing you to speed past them at their selfishness; and, an asshole that never knew where they were going. Don’t even get started on the nosey people that wanted to lurk at a crime scene, always slowing down to get a good peek at a car wreckage instead of minding their own business. Any time you got the opportunity, you’d zing through the clear roads, the speedometer hitting over seventy mph in a forty-five. You usually get away with it, believing yourself to be an expert at controlling your speed and knowing just when to slow down. 

This time was no different. The moment you hopped in your car, you took a few seconds to set up a playlist before you were starting up the car and putting it in reverse. In three sharp moves, you were out of your work facility and cruising down the streets. As usual, your work days were long and you always complained of a headache right after. However, today seemed to be the worst of it as you weren’t able to get a lunch break because of the amount of call outs from work and your section of the building heavily understaffed. Your manager insisted that you would get a break at some point, but that never happened. 

You could tell that he figured your annoyance with how you failed to respond to his farewell when you let out an exasperated sigh and trudged right towards the elevators. You hadn’t uttered out a word to anyone, and that’s how you wanted it. 

Ten minutes away from home, you figured that if you just accelerated just a little bit more, you could knock it down to five minutes. The road was clear and there was only one other vehicle in sight. As long as you didn’t kill anyone, you were fine. 

You had spoken too soon. The same vehicle you mentioned prior quickly catching up to you as red and blue lights flashed behind you before the siren went off. Gripping the steering wheel, you curse. Hitting your brakes gently, you pulled up to the side of the road, tall blades of grass blowing in the cool autumn wind. You let out a sigh as you park the car, turning off the ignition as you see the black Lexus stop behind you. 

It takes you a moment to wind down the windows. Your shoulders tensing up when you see the door swinging open before seeing the officer that follows. You lean back in the seat before reaching for the top left button. Pressing down, the sound of the glass further antagonizes your migraine before feeling the shadow cast over you. You nearly jump out of your seat when you open your eyes. You clutch your chest, heart racing at the brute of a man— police officer— standing before you. 

You have to crane your head to get a good look at his face— dark hair that tickles his eyebrows, green eyes that glare down at you, and a scar on the left corner of his lips that frowns at you. His uniform holds him snuggly. Too snug, you’d say. Your eyes traverse his body at how he holds his vest, thumbs underneath as his four digits patter on top. He smirks as if he knows the effect he has on people, tilting his head as his eyebrows rise. “You’re well aware why I’m pulling you over, right?”

Your typical brazen attitude dilutes. Instead, meekly nodding your head as you let out a “yeah.”

“Can I see your license and registration?” He cuts right to the chase, taking out a small device as you fish for your purse. You grimace, reaching for your hand bag as it’s right there. However, you’re stalling and the officer can blatantly see that. “You stalling won’t make the ticket go away.”

Dropping the accessory, you fall in your seat, looking up at the officer sheepishly. You couldn’t afford to pay a five hundred dollar ticket. Actually, you could. You could fish into your savings and pay it off no deal, but you didn’t want to. “Is there any way I can not get a ticket?”

He stops tapping on the device, raising a judgemental eyebrow at you before snorting. “You can dispute it in court, but I doubt you’d win.”

You roll your eyes at the snarky comment before an epiphany courses through your body. You wind down your window even further at the possible prospects set in order as cross your arms and rest your chin down. Your eyes sparkle as you peer upwards, reading the name and badge number off of his ID. “There’s… nothing I could do to stop you from writing that ticket, Officer Fushiguro?”

“And risk my job?” Toji scoffs. “I don’t think so.”

He starts tapping away, but with a daring hand, your fingers prod at his belt. Right at the buckle before your index finger goes lower, so dangerously close to reaching for his clothed crotch. “My job has a few positions open. I can put in a good word.”

And who was he to deny a pretty thing like you, even if you offered out of your own selfishness, the cop deserved a little treat for himself. Setting down the tablet with one hand, he goes to switch off his body cam with the next. There’s a high probability that he’d get caught for this when the body cam footage gets reviewed. And, there’s a high probability of him getting suspended or fired over it, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d have to relocate to another police department for his misconduct, and he’s sure the next one would look past the sexual mishap and hire him. It always works out in his favor. 

The street is still bare and if this was kept as discreet as possible, none of the onlookers could tell what was happening. It gives Toji the go ahead when he unravels the holster, letting it hang over your door before he’s loosening the belt. He doesn’t drop his pants, only undoing the zipper enough to reveal the dark boxer briefs that do nothing to hide his heavy print. He palms at his growing erection through the fabric before pulling out his length through the opening. “Let’s put that pretty mouth to good use, yeah?”

Your eyes widen, wanting to bulge out of the sockets at the size of him. Immense length and girth that it hangs instead of stands. His mushroom tip starts leaking of translucent precum as he holds it up through the car window, resting one hand on the roof of your car as he looks down at you. He smears his pre, making the head glisten under the setting sun as he bucks his hips forward. He doesn’t have to say a word, nodding his head for you to open your mouth.

Toji’s been trying to be a better man. To hold himself to standards and do what needs to be done to make a decent living. However, vixens like you always find themselves in his pathway, a blatant trick that he always finds himself falling for. There’s hesitation in your movement, your mouth opening up a mere inch as you shuffle forward. You keep him waiting and wanting for the taste of your touch, making him impatient that his hand reaches inside to pull at your hair. Done nicely in a ponytail, it’s quickly wrecked by the strong grip of his hand forcing you closer to him. The tip of his length kisses your mouth, beckoning you to open up and invite him in just as you promised. 

This isn’t the first time he’s gotten a woman like this, talking a big game before they truly know what they’re dealing with. It makes him chuckle as he tilts his head, the right corner of his lip curving upward in a knowing grin as the sound reverberates from his chest. “What? You want that ticket after all?”

The threat of having to pay off that hefty fine is what helps you muster up the courage, pretty beady eyes that look up at him as you shake your head, no. “Don’t be stupid.”

Finally, you bring a hand to wrap around his length, your hands nowhere big enough to wrap around his impressive girth as you fix yourself in the car. Your free hand goes to unbuckle yourself as you hoist yourself to your knees. The leather seats already bring you pain as the joints dig into them, sticking your head out of the window to get in a better position. You squeeze your hand around the base, feeling the warmth of him before your fingers trickle down to grope at his balls through the uniform. They’re heavy and fat, you can feel. As you peer up at Officer Fushiguro, you can see how he clenches his jaw, not wanting to admit how the taunting action makes him feel as he still grips onto the roof of your car. 

The street’s gotten busier and the sky is darker, but still, no one can tell what’s happening as they zoom past. To them, it looks like a regular stop for a speeding ticket and he hopes to continue making it appear that way. He wants to tell you to get on with it, but your hands glide to grip his cock once more and wrap around the length. Smooth, tandem strokes as saliva pools in your mouth, making it build up before the wad lads straight to his length. You stroke his length, pumping him as he continues to grow harder in your hold. You’re no longer looking at his face, eyes solely focused on the task at hand as your mouth opens just a few centimeters. You feel the vein that runs down the underside of his shaft, rubbing your thumb against it and causing him to twitch in your hold.

You’ve managed to make him feel like he’s in your possession, like you have the say so instead of the other way around. And fuck, does it feel good to let loose. He lets out a low growl that vibrates from deep within as his shoulders fall, releasing all tension within himself. He loosens the hold on your head, but his hand never disappears completely from its place around the elastic band. He starts to wonder if this is some sort of ploy of yours to get yourself out of speeding tickets, and if he’s just one of your victims. If so, why should he care so much if he’s already fallen into your trap and under your spell? 

That migraine of yours seems to go away just by the small tug, the officer loosening the tension of the tight updo as you continue to jerk him off. The wetness of his precum mixed with your saliva makes his cock look like a porcelain prize, calling you over to finally fit him inside your mouth. Your hips shimmy as you take another inch out of the window, the meet of your chest and breasts pressing into the door window. You roll your neck before licking your lips, your pretty pupils finally looking up at him. He could’ve sworn there was a ghost of a smile on your lips, but as quick as it came, it’s gone in the flash of a mere second. 

A pebbled kiss against the urethra, your tongue pokes at it nimbly. The taste of salt against your tongue is diluted as your mouth widens. Your mouth wraps around the head of his cock in a greed as it hollows out almost immediately. Toji grits his teeth, still keeping his composure against the car. A line starts to form at the traffic light as the night grows closer and passers-by start to dig their nose into the officer, eyes trying to see past through the tint before the light turns green again. Unfortunately, Officer Fushiguro couldn’t care less anymore about the stance of his position as a policeman, so absorbed with just the simple action of getting his dick sucked to worry about the consequences. 

You hum around his length, letting out a breath through your nose as you run your tongue down the shaft. The soft and thin veil of skin that moves with the push and pull of your wet muscle before your tongue flattens out to feel the hardness of his cock. You salivate, your mouth watering as the stench of sweat and pheromones mix into your senses, the smell bringing you into a haze as you try inching closer. You take more of him, feeling the way his length dips further inside, reaching for your uvula as you subconsciously start tearing up. You restrain yourself from gagging, the corner of your lips starting to drip with spit, sliding down your face. 

You forced yourself to take majority of him in before your reflexes started to finally acting up, a stream of tears already coming to follow. Toji hissed, pulling at the ponytail to tilt your head upward. “Take it easy, doll.”

Such simple words to set yourself at ease, but simultaneously turn you on. Arousal pools into the cotton of your underwear, creating a dark patch as you nod. You bring your hand to hold around the base, pulling yourself off his length to catch a breath. And fuck, do you look so pretty like this. All teary-eyed and ruined in a matter of a couple of minutes. He loved to watch them all struggle to take his length, no matter the hole, but it was just something about ruining their mouth that always kept him going. Just seeing how messed up their faces could get when they struggled. It was an intoxicating experience. 

The cold air hits his length, making Toji inhale deeply before you’re on your second attempt. This time, you take him in gradually, bringing him in inch by inch and slowly bobbing your head. What you couldn’t get to fit, you twisted your fist around instead, pumping his cock inside of you as he started to groan and grunt. The police officer admires you from up above, cursing under his breath. “Atta girl. You’ve got it now.”

You can taste more of his salted pre, loving the way he reacts to you. Your cheeks hollow out as you make eye contact. You mewl as you grow more confidence to try and take more in once again. You push yourself deeper, letting his tip graze the back of your throat before forcing in more. You let yourself gag before pulling away, repeating it a couple of times. Your saliva bubbles, dripping down your chin and out onto the solid concrete. His grip on your hair tightens, but he never forces you down, just seemingly overwhelmed by pleasure. The dark blue sky kisses his skin finally as the moon fully peaks out from the dark clouds, the street lamps flickering on as the flashing headlights of speeding vehicles zoom past. 

This feels like a wet dream he never wants to escape as the wet sounds of you fucking your mouth on his cock gets muted by the sound of the night life. Oh, how he’d love to hear them alongside his deep moans. He was so expectant of you to disappoint, so ready to still write you up for a ticket in your failure. However, you swirl your tongue over his tip as he can feel that curdle in his stomach. You switch from tantalizing swirls to bobbing your head up and down, looking so pleased with yourself for making the officer on duty fall apart. 

“Fuuuck,” he drawls. There’s no alert of his approaching orgasm, simply shooting thick ropes into your mouth that you nearly choke on his seed. It’s so copious as you come to sing out high-pitched mewls. However, you’re still a relentless slut, continuing your sexual administrations on his length as his cum drips from the corners of your lips as well. He bucks his hips into you, eyes shutting as his sensitive head feels wrecked. You finally pull back, letting what’s left of his cum pool underneath your tongue before spitting it right out and letting it drip down his length. You jerk him off with quick thrusts of your hand, watching the way his hips stutter ever so slightly as he still tries to keep himself together. It seems useless with a woman like you as suck and guzzle at his tip. This second orgasm was quicker to approach than the first one, his sensitive urethra spurting out a thinner veil of cum. With brute strength, his grip on your head only tightens as he forces you down on his cock, making his head kiss the back of your throat to empty himself inside of you. 

He could tell you’re the type of gal to go at it all night if you could, pulling you off of his length with a muted pop as he looks down at your face. You look so much prettier like this. Makeup all ruined as you’re all teary-eyed and a mess. He’s a man true to his word, no longer going to write you a ticket. However, he didn’t want to waste this opportunity, wanting a taste of that pussy. Is it as good as your mouth is?

When he catches his breath, his chest rising and falling, through his hooded hazel eyes, his grins sinisterly. “I dunno. I think I’mma still have t’write up that ticket, ma’am.”

Your eyes widen as your chest heaves. “Wha—”

Inside, he reaches to unlock your door, pulling the handle open before forcing you to lean back. “I think your pussy will certainly do the trick.”

🕷. @r0ckst4rjk @kasukuna @pixelcafe-network

[reverieblondie]

Scary Movie Night

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), Full nelson, Oral, Cum eating, Reverse cowgirl.

Summary: Halloween Night and horror movies what could go wrong?

A/N: I can not do kinktober because I write to slow, so this is my Halloween fic instead. Also if you have sent me a request I am working on it so please be patient! If you enjoyed this Halloween themed Fic, please checkout my Halloween Fic with Peter B Parker here.

Word Count: 6,582

“Oh no please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface I want to be in the sequel!” 

Halloween night, alone with no plans but to watch the horror movie marathon on TV, pass out candy to trick-or-treaters, and gorge yourself on candy and popcorn.  

The movie marathon was going strong. You had started with Nightmare on Elm Street, and now you have moved on to Scream. The marathon was the perfect way to get into the Halloween spirit. Halloween was the perfect night to get your spook on, everyone is entitled to one good scare on the spookiest night of the year. However, you didn't foresee yourself getting scared from the movies with having to constantly get up to pass out candy to eager trick-or-treaters. 

The doorbell rang out causing you to heave yourself from the couch dusting popcorn derby from your chest you flip on your interior lights and answer the door. 

“Trick or Treat!” 

The little Bundle of kids cheered. Ranging in ages you surveyed the group with a smile. A sweet little princess, an impressive robot, and an oddly adorable zombie, with them a tepid teenager with his scary werewolf mask on top of his head. You assume the babysitter for the night.  Quickly complementing their costumes you gave them each a handful of the sugary treats they were so desperate for. Chirping a thank you they all run off to the next house over. 

Smiling as they run off you scan the crisp autumn night watching the masses of excited children cheering and laughing as they run from house to house. As you are greeting some more treaters running to your door, something catches your eye. 

A dark figure seems to be slowly walking in the shadows of the sidewalks carefully avoiding running children and lights as it walks carefully by, surveying the rows of houses. Watching intently you quickly pass out the candy while trying to get a good look at the figure. Then one of the kids chirps a thank you causing you to smile down at them, once the kids run off your porch you look for the figure in the night and it seems to have disappeared. Okay, that was creepy. Maybe it was just a harmless kid, don't work yourself up. 

And you didn’t the whole weird sighting had completely left your mind. You had finished Scream and moved on to Halloween, is it even truly Halloween if you haven't watched this movie at least once? Enthralled in the movie your lights are turned dim to get you into the atmosphere of the film. Then something makes you jump, and it wasn’t the shape on the screen.  

Whipping your head towards the sound, it's like a soft tapping and it's coming from your window. This caused only one thought to rush through your brain- did I lock the window…

Slowly approaching the window you hear the tapping continue and you swear as you inch closer it becomes more rampant. Then as you reach for the curtain it seems to stop. It's probably just nothing, but the thought of that shadowy figure made all your confidence waver. If this is something you are screwed…maybe if you had some company you would be calmer. 

Not wanting to be a horror movie cliche you start looking through your phone's contacts. You need someone dependable, scary, and someone you wouldn't mind hanging out with, like…

You stop scrolling and stare at the contact name: Miguel O’Hara…

Dependable- yes, he can be kinda a hardass but at work, he is always ready to give a helping hand to you every time you ask, even though he would not shy away from giving you shit when given the chance. Though you have grown to enjoy the teasing.  

Scary- Uh, the dude is 6 '9' and built like a brick wall. It was one of the first things you noticed about him, The dude was huge! He could probably crush you if he needed to, though would that be so bad? It has become an office joke that when he's not at work he's living at the gym working out like crazy. How else could he be so big? 

Now Miguel is your friend, you two had gotten close through your jobs at Alchemax, So it's only natural for a friend to let another friend come over right? Even if this said friend is quite attractive, with a gorgeous face, broad back, slender waist, and the best ass you have ever seen. Yeah, hanging out alone in your house shouldn't be a problem…Right?

Taking a deep breath you press the call button. 

-Bring…-

-Brriinnngg…-

“Hello?” 

“Um, Hey Miguel, are you busy?” 

You hear Miguel shuffling around before he answers “What's wrong?” 

Wow, he's pretty perceptive, you didn't realize how shaken up you sounded for him to ask you that so quickly. “Uh, I was wondering if you could…come over?”

There is a long moment of silence then what sounds like an exasperated sigh on Miguel's end. He busy…Maybe you should tell him never mind, you're the one who decided to watch horror movies alone and-

“Okay, I will be there shortly.” 

Well that took zero convincing, “O-okay, see you then”

-click-

——-

Making sure to pick up your living room a bit you anxiously await for Miguel to arrive. The random tapping has stopped but you're still walking apprehensively through your home. Turning back on your lights you continue to watch the movie trying to distract yourself but you feel your hands getting clammy and anxiety rising. Were these movies just getting to you? Or Is there stuff happening? Worse than that, Is Miguel going to think you're crazy? 

Checking your phone every couple of minutes waiting for a call or text from Miguel. He said he would be here shortly but it feels like forever, where is he? Having nervously eaten all your popcorn you go to make another bowl. Throwing the bag in the microwave you start the time and think about how you just saw this same situation in Scream. Waiting patiently you're starting to think you're overreacting a bit. That tapping could be anything, maybe when Miguel gets here you two can laugh at this. He has the most amazing laugh…

Then a sudden thumping breaks your daydream. Frozen, you don't move a muscle, you don't even dare to breathe as you slowly move your gaze to the window where the tapping had been. But, the thumping noise is fainter, and it's almost like something hitting something on your windows. For a second you think, is someone egging me? You thought you could avoid that because you got the good candy. Is someone messing with you? Maybe this is all in your head? 

The thumping then turns into a window-rattling, like it's being pried open, your blood runs cold…

Eyes flicking around the room, your gaze gets glued towards the bathroom, and you clutch your cell phone tightly, is this happening…do I look? Absolutely not! Frantically you look at your phone. Where the hell is Miguel? 

Then the sound of your doorbell chime sounds like a saving grace. Quickly you rush to open the door, but it doesn't budge. Danm-

Fumbling with the lock you quickly swing the door open and there he is. Miguel O’Hara, in all his beautifully intimidating glory. God, you could just kiss him. You didn't even care that he was looking at you like you were insane. Without a second thought, you're pulling him by his shirt inside, slamming your door shut. Turning to him with wild eyes the hysteric words flying from your mouth.  

“Canyougocheckthebathroom, Iheardanoise and I’M Freaking out!” 

Miguel just looks at you baffled before he swivels his head around responding with a casual sigh. “Where's the bathroom?” 

Timidly you point down your dark hallway and Miguel instantly starts walking that way. Following close behind it takes everything in you not to cling to his jacket. Now you are usually a lot braver, but the oddness of the whole situation has you in a tissy.  

Miguel stops at the closed bathroom door, turning his head over his shoulder he points his index finger to the door in a silent question. Nodding with a yes he opens the door with a confident swing walking through. You're more apprehensive as you peer through the doorway holding your hands tightly to your chest. Looking through your bathroom it's completely normal, apart from the mountain of a man looking around at it. 

Turning to face you his chiseled face in a quizzical glare of ‘okay?’ 

Pointing to the window you meekly say “I thought I heard the window being opened..” 

Nodding Miguel parts the curtains to reveal a shut window, going the extra mile he even tries to open it but it's locked. Closing the curtains back he turns to you placing his hands on his hips.

“Anything else?”

Looking at the shower you nudge your head at it. Seeming to roll his eyes slightly he opens the curtain to reveal an empty shower, murderer free. Sighing, your tension starts to ease up, everything seems fine, other than you acting like a damn spaz.

“You okay scaredy-cat?” he says with a smirk. 

Rolling your eyes you're not amused by the nickname, “Yes I am fine, now can you give me a minute?”

Miguel shrugs with a smile and walks out of the bathroom, he turns like he's about to say something but you quickly slam the door closed, locking it.  Pressing your back to the door you run your hands through your hair and down your face feeling ridiculous. Nothing is here to get you…plus Miguel is here you need to get a grip.

After regaining your composure, doing your business, washing your hands, and maybe putting on some mascara and fixing your hair a bit, you finally exit the bathroom. Walking into your living room you are met with the sight of Miguel walking out of the kitchen, jacket removed, revealing a black tee shirt that does everything for his muscular physique; the cherry on top, he has taken your popcorn from the microwave and poured it into a bowl. -well just make yourself at home the O’Hara

Feeling a bit awkward you decide it's the polite thing to thank him, “Thank you for coming over and checking my bathroom…” 

Miguel nods plopping down on your couch and placing the popcorn on your coffee table, “you know, Maybe you shouldn’t be watching horror movies by yourself if you're just going to get scared by them” 

Touché-

“Well…That's why I have you, you get to be my bodyguard”  You say with a chuckle as you turn off your lights and slide down onto the couch next to him. 

“I don’t know, I was working before you called…” 

“Working?” This shouldn't be a surprise, of course, he was….”Well that's not a very fun Halloween” 

“And getting scared by cheesy horror movies is?” 

“Hey, At least it's festive, plus it’s not the movies that spooked me, some weird person was lurking around and this odd tapping, then the window…” 

As you speak you look up and see that Miguel is listening intently, hanging on to each word that leaves your lips, you can't help but feel your cheeks blush from his fervid stare. 

“I don’t know…maybe it was the movies…”

“I’ll stay”

“Huh?” You look at him confused 

Miguel casually grabs a handful of popcorn “I said I’ll stay, I don't have to finish that work right now and you seem genuinely scared, though I think you have just been watching too many movies niña” he playfully nudges you with his elbow and you nudge him back making him laugh causing you to blush again. 

“Plus…” he adds while dragging his eyes over your face, then down your body, studying your form for a moment “It will be..festive..” he looks back into your eyes and quickly averts his gaze to the movie, eating his popcorn casually. 

-------

This is not how you saw your evening headed, alone in a dark room with Miguel. Sure you have had the odd fantasy of this moment before but there was no TV playing, and there were also no clothes…the popcorn was still present though…

Trying to be engrossed in the film you can’t help but take your eyes away to look over at Miguel. Fidgeting around on the couch, Danm, you need to relax. Miguel is being a good friend and just trying to watch a movie he doesn't need to be ogled by you!  

As you continue to be at war with yourself your fidgeting and sighing must have gotten Miguel's attention. Because he’s then carefully wrapping an arm around your shoulder and bringing you in close. Feeling your face turn through three variations of blush you allow yourself to be pushed closer till your head is on his shoulder. Before you can even fumble with a response Miguel is speaking up. “You seem like you're scared…”

Not scared, just burning in desire for you, but I will take what I can get. “Thanks, Miguel.”

Completely ignoring the movie now, you don't even know what's on, you are just enjoying the closeness of Miguel's warm body. He might be the world's most cuddly man despite appearances. The best part was when a  jumpscare would suddenly happen, he would hold you tighter like he was trying to protect you. His calm rhythmic breathing and how his fingers subtly rubbed loose strains of your hair it was so calming. Calling him over was the perfect move, everything was going great. 

But there was something that just didn't make sense to you, “How come you're not at some kind of Halloween party or something?” you inquire looking up at his sculpted jaw. 

Miguel shrugs, moving his eyes away from the screen to look at you  “How come you're not at a Halloween party?” How come he can’t ever just give a straight answer-

Rolling your eyes you scoff “I’m not a fan of parties they tend to be overwhelming and usually kinda a letdown. Like I’m not going to go there and meet some sexy masked man to sweep me off my feet by fulfilling my every desire…” 

Miguel looks at you confused and you just giggle “Heh, I read a story about it once…Anyways I like staying home to pass out the candy, it’s fun getting to make the kid's night.” 

“You like kids?” he quickly asks. 

“Sure, I mean I want some of my own one day.” As you answer you look over at Miguel and you think you see a slight smile on his lips as you speak. 

“Seriously though, how come you weren't doing anything on Halloween?” you ask, trying to get the truth. “Didn't you get invited to go out?”

Miguel sighs, “Well yeah but, I’m like you, I don't like parties, horror movies are not my favorite, and kids don't trick or treat in my building, Plus…I was kinda waiting”

“Waiting? For what?” you say furrowing your brow at him.

“Well, I was waiting to see if you were going to invite me out” His sudden confession has your heart warming, and before you can get too mushy you slip out a laugh elbowing Miguel in the abs. “If you wanted to hang out you could have just called, you know?”

“I know, I guess I’m lucky you freaked yourself out so much you needed my company, scaredy-cat.” he teases leaning further into you and making your body warm.

“Hey! I was hearing and seeing things, Mister.” you poke his chest, almost hurting your finger in the process.

“Sure you were…” You and Miguel are both leaning pretty close by now, still laughing with each other. Then you two seem to notice the sudden proximity that has you both turning your heads quickly. 

Miguel and you continue your playful banter as you watch the movie. He complains how everything is predictable, proving his theories by telling you who will die and in what order, you call him a buzz kill and playfully pinch his sides as he continues to ruin the movie. Miguel meets your pinching by doing it to you, this quickly escalates to a pinching war on the couch.

Lost in the playful fight you and Miguel feel the tension building around you until the ring of the doorbell cuts through the laughing. Sounds of excited laughter following the ring, you look to the door and smile at Miguel “Well, duty calls,” Miguel moves so you can slip past him, and you head towards the door. To your surprise, however, you notice that Miguel is following you. Looking at him confused he averts his eyes and places his hand on the back of his neck, “Thought I could help….” -what a cutie

Smiling wide you place the bowl of candy in his large hands. Swinging the door open you see a group of giggly kids eagerly holding out their baskets. They all go to sing out their Halloween phrase but suddenly stop with wide eyes and gasped expressions. 

Looking at them confused you wonder what has them looking so shocked till you turn your head and look at Miguel. With the lights dimmed down in your house and the porch light only hitting parts of his face he looks terrifying, also are his eyes glowing red? What?

The youngest kid dressed like a fairy starts to cry, turning to hug her mom's leg. The others are too scared to even move. Miguel, in his infinite wisdom in social cues, leans over slightly and lets out a simple question “What will it be? Trick or Treat?” 

Noticing the kids getting upset and equally the parents, you are quick to soothe things over. Flipping the door light on you makes it easier to see Miguel, making his faceless obscured, this seems to make the kids relax a bit and the moms and dad blush to see his strong physique and chiseled features. 

“Wow! Miguel, don't all these kids look great? Don’t you love the costumes?” You nudge Miguel with a smile trying to get him to smile back. 

Miguel, confused at first, doesn't understand, then lighting up he seemingly catches on “Oh yeah definitely all good, I like the Spider-Man” Miguel points to a kid who is dressed in the Blue and red vigilante outfit (A popular costume since the masked hero started saving Nueva York) the kid gives a thumbs up that makes Miguel smile that has everyone’s heart squeezing.

Finally with the kids more relaxed and the parents thoroughly flushed you crouch down, pulling Miguel with you to drop candy in the kid's bags. You take the time to ask each kid what they are and compliment the outfit. Miguel keeps his smile placed as he watches you with the kids. He seems to enjoy this. Finally, with all the kids giving their sweet rewards you and Miguel wave bye.

Nudging him in the side you get his attention “Try not to scare the kids huh?” 

Miguel rolls his eyes “I didn't do it on purpose.”

Miguel walks back inside towards the movie and you go to reach for the light, but some sudden movement catches your attention. It looks like someone or something running down the side of the neighbor's house. Stepping out into the night air you look and see if you can see it. Inching closer and closer you're trying to catch a glimpse but then the sound of a playful scream down the road makes you jump. Looking back you see a father lifting his daughter and tossing her into the air making her scream and giggle. Taking a breath to calm yourself, you head back inside. Not seeing that the bushes have been rustling…

———-

Settling back onto the couch you are happily eating away at your candy. Trick-or-treaters are heading home for the night leaving the rest of the treats for you to enjoy. Miguel's eyes are focused on you as the candy slips past your lips. 

“I can’t believe you actually can sit here and eat all that sugar” 

You side-eye Miguel “Oh let me guess you don’t eat candy?” Probably not have you felt his abs in that shirt, completely solid-

“I just, haven’t had any that I like” 

“Well, do you not like sweet things?” 

Miguel looks at you for a moment like he wants to say something but quickly changes his mind “It depends…” 

“Well here try this, it’s one of my favorites” 

Quickly unwrapping the candy you hold it up for Miguel to take, but instead of grabbing it from you he leans down and takes it with his mouth. 

Staring at him your thoughts seem to evaporate.- 

Wait, did I just…did he really…did I feed him chocolate?

Staring at Miguel you meet his gaze with wide eyes, is he…no! He probably just took it because he just really wanted the chocolate…

While you're consumed by your thoughts your eyes stay locked with Miguel, he looks nervous. Like he's also surprised that you fed him chocolate, but he was the one who leaned in and ate from your hand! He fed himself! 

Moving his eyes away for a moment he turns away and quickly swallows the candy, as he turns he seems like he wants to say something but instead his intense stare stays on your eyes. Feeling his arm on your shoulders move slowly to your hips curling tighter around you, a crashing wave of excitement washes over you. He slightly leans forward keeping his eyes on yours, it feels like you can’t breathe. 

Heart is beating a mile a minute, all your nerves are on high alert, brain feels like it's frying. His scent, his touch, his intense stare! Wait, are his eyes red again, must be the lighting. 

All of it is overwhelming. With ease, his large hand gently grabs your neck, bringing you closer to touch his plush lips to yours. Eyes shutting instantly you lean into the kiss, pressing yourself closer to his warmth. Seemingly groaning in surprise he leans more, parting his lips slightly to guide you through, mouth moving in tandem with him. Feeling the kiss deepen to a more intense passion you feel Your arousal ruining your panties and body heat reaching a fever pitch. 

Breaking from the kiss to get air you stare at Miguel's face as he catches his breath, he looks downright majestic huffing for air it drives you wild, tightening your thighs together. Taking everything not to pounce him you back up brain scrambling from the hot man panting at you.  

“I-is it Hot maybe I should o-open up my….Window! Yeah, open up my window!” Quickly you scramble to your window pushing past the curtains and lifting the window. The sudden cool breeze does nothing to cool your heated body. Standing there you take deep breaths to calm yourself, then large hands grabbing your hips make your attempts to calm down fail. Feeling Miguel nuzzle into your hair, then his breath fan against your neck has you almost moaning, you just can't help melting at his touch. 

“I’m sorry if that was too sudden, I just…I’ve been wanting to do that..” His arms wrap around you in a hug making you fall into pure bliss

“For how long?” you say breathlessly leaning into his hold. 

Humming Miguel thinks for a moment “About….five months now”

Your eyes shoot open and you turn around and swat his shoulder “You have liked me for five months and you haven't done anything about it!” 

Miguel takes your playful hits for a few more moments before catching your wrist and pulling you in close, “you know if you wanted to kiss me you could have?”

“What? No way, I have been leaving hints this whole time you needed to meet me halfway!” 

Miguel leans in closer, silencing your nagging with a kiss that you quickly fall into, playing with his hair as his hands roam over your body. Breaking away Miguel smiles down at you, “Is this meeting you halfway?” 

Giving a slight pout you look at him with doe eyes “All I'm saying is that we could have been doing stuff sooner if you would have done something.” 

Miguel quickly lifts you kissing you passionately carrying you blindly to the bedroom, when you feel your back hit your bedroom door you break the kiss looking down at his smirking face. “Well let's make up for lost time, shall we?” 

Fumbling with your doorknob trying to open your door, but he swiftly moves your hand, opening the door in a fluid motion. Unable to contain your desires, you feverishly pull on his shirt while his hands fumble with your leggings. Once his shirt is off you take a second to admire his body he just chuckles at you before he's undoing his pants, while taking your top off you watch as his cock springs out from its confines slapping against his abdomen. 

Now fully exposed to one another he can't help but lick his bottom lip taking in all your soft curves. You're equally hypnotized by his monstrous phasic and the massive length that causes your legs to shake. Seeing your nervousness he's quick to relax you. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make you feel good.” Running his hands all over he gets behind you and walks you to your bed. Pushing you against the bed you're falling on the plush mattress on your hands and knees. 

Miguel's large digits can be felt spreading open your wet folds, you can only whimper as he runs his other finger up and down teasing you. 

“Danm, you're so wet…” 

Before you can give a rebuttal you feel him lick a long strip up your cunt. All you can do is let out a squeak as he ravenously eats your pussy, licking at your slick walls. All you can do is drop to your elbows moaning his name, as he hums and prods his tongue in your quivering slit. 

Finally needing to break for air he moves away, his warm breath fanning over your wet cunt making you squeeze your legs together. Turning your head over your shoulder to look at Miguel and you almost cum right there. He's panting like a damn animal as a mixture of your arousal and his spit coat his chin in a shining sheen. The most alarming thing is that his eyes are blown out in hungry lust “Miguel…” you whimper his name breathlessly. 

“Sorry hermosa, you're just so sweet..” with that he's spreading you open and back to eating your pussy like a starved man making you approach your high. Feeling your body reaching its peak you grind your hips into his face making him latch onto your swollen clit, sucking and twirling his tongue on it. 

“Oh my god! Miguel! Ah!” 

Knowing exactly what he's doing he leans in, humming onto your clit more, sliding two fingers into your slick cunt. moving his fingers in slowly he's spreading you open to accommodate every enticing inch. Once he's knuckle deep he starts pumping his large fingers in and out. Practically drooling now from his pumping plus the hungry licking and sucking of your clit you feel in bliss. It's not until Miguel is letting out a low groan into your cunt that you start seeing stars. 

Trying to squirm away you try to prevent what's about to happen but Miguel grabs a hold of your hips not allowing you to move, continuing his low groans and deep pumping. The white-hot rush washes over you and all you can do is scream his name as you cum, Miguel not wanting to waste a drop of your sweet essence quickly licks and sucks every drop from you, helping you ride your high on his face. 

Coming down from your high you feel Miguel's large hands squeezing your waist, “So good for me baby, so fucking sweet..” 

Before you can even fully get back to your senses Miguel is Pulling you up to press your back to his chest, “now keep being my good girl and ride me..” he growls into your ear. 

Laying down on the bed he steadies your hips as you grab his massive length angling it to tease your slit. His hot tip feels so good teasingly poking at your slit. Looking over your shoulder your eyes fall to Miguel, he looks like he can't take any more of your teasing. Grabbing your hair he roughly pulls making your back arch suddenly “Fucking ride it,” 

Slowly lowering yourself on his cock you feel the stretch making your toes curl, Miguel's large hands rub soft circles on your hips as you stretch yourself full. You're unable to help your mewing of his name as you fully press down to take him all. Not even moving yet your eyes are rolling at the way his tip is already nudging your cervix. Miguel continues to rub his hands up and down your back cooing sweet nothings about how you're such a good girl, his good girl. 

Feeling him throb in you, you're ready for more so you slowly start raising your hips and bringing yourself down, with each motion your cunt clenches down on him savoring the stretch. Once you're accommodated to his size you pick up your pace moving faster and pushing him in deeper, his hot tip has you losing your mind. Grabbing onto your breast pinching and twisting your buds, you're losing it moaning and crying out his name. 

Egged on by your enthusiasm Miguel grips your hips and thrusts deeper, “That's my girl, take it, baby, ah fuck, my cock is yours” 

“Its mine..ah fucking mine” you cry out bouncing faster 

You start to feel the coil in your stomach tightening, feeling your body heating up to a fever pitch. Miguel is right with you approaching as high as he thrust harder cock throbbing and heating to a mouth-watering burn. Grunts falling on deaf ears you're too lost in the chase or your second orgasm, your only focus is to milk him dry, to feel his thick seed fill you. 

The chase gets halted when suddenly Miguel is leaning forward kissing the back of your neck, hooking his arms under your knees. Locking his hands behind your head, the contorting has him fucking your pussy impossibly deeper, his breath is ragged as he moans, “I'm going to ruin this fucking pussy!”

“Fuck! Ruin me miggy!” You didn’t need to ask him twice he's fucking you hard, his in your stomach at this point. The arousal from your cunt is dripping down to your ass as he just takes full control over you. Chest feels on fire as you gasp from his pace which shows no sign of relenting till his cumming deep inside you.   

Practically there you feel your coil about to give, and then Miguel slows his strong thrust to a stop, his breath getting quiet. Turning back to whine at the sudden loss of friction you hear it too…the sound of your living room window sliding up. Still caged in his grip from the Full Nelson you can only look up in horror, your house is being broken into! You weren’t paranoid! 

Miguel slowly releases you from his hold and gently slides out of you moving you to the side of the bed. You can’t help the slight moan you give from not being full of him anymore. Miguel stands up and looks at you placing a finger to his lip reminding you to be silent, his intense eyes looking like they shine red. Quickly following his silence demands you cover your mouth with your hands. 

Slow footsteps can be heard walking through the house and your eyes widen. Who was in here? What is happening? 

Miguel slowly and steadily puts his pants on (disregarding his underwear) and you wrap yourself in a robe. Miguel goes to open the door of the bedroom but you quickly grab his hand to hold him back. Looking up at him with pleading eyes you try and urge him not to go out there, it’s dangerous he could get hurt. 

Without words, Miguel places his hand on your cheek and gives a soft kiss to your lips, a reassurance that everything will be okay. You hate how much it calms you at the moment but can’t help how you surrender to it. 

Miguel goes to open the door but it’s too late, the door flies open and you see a masked intruder dressed in all black. Screaming in terror you hide behind Miguel’s tall stature. To your surprise the intruder also screams when you are, jumping backwards they pin themselves to the wall. Wait? What kind of intruder jumps in surprise? As you shake in fear and confusion Miguel just stares daggers at the person. 

Before you know it the intruder is cussing and running towards the door but Miguel is not having it, he pursues the intruder in a quick sprint. It was honestly a pathetic sight, the intruder scrambling to unlock your front door while the monster of a man Miguel goes to grab him. 

After successfully slipping through the door the masked person starts running down your driveway. However, they were not quick enough, with an incredible force Miguel grabbed the masked person’s shoulder and slammed them to the ground in one swift motion. With the way he swiftly maneuvered it was like Miguel has done it thousands of times. 

Thoroughly pissed off Miguel lifts the now limp figure in the air. Now seeing the comparison between the two you see how the guy didn’t even stand a chance to Miguel, in fact, the figure now seems to be quite slender. Carefully you approach Miguel and the figure. 

 in an animalistic growl, Miguel finally speaks. “What are you doing breaking into y/ns house…” 

The figure lets out a whimper of “Who?” the continues in a pathetic plea,  

“Please sir don’t kill me,” Sir? What? That’s not how intruders sound. Miguel lifts the mask off the person's face to reveal a young man probably a freshman in high school looking like he’s about to pee himself. The young man turns to you with desperate eyes. 

“Ma’am, can you tell your husband to put me down?” Okay, not my husband but I’m not going to correct them. 

“Um, first you need to explain why you were breaking in before I call the police “ 

The kid lets out a whine  “Please don’t! it was just a stupid prank, I was supposed to scare Kenny Crain.” The kid's face flushes and starts to cry

Looking at them confused, you ask, “Kenny Crain?” 

The kid sadly nods and Miguel’s grip tightens, You continue “No Kenny Crain lives here?” Gesturing to your house. 

The kid's tears stop and he looks at you in shock “wait this isn't 945?”

You shake your head “This is 925” 

The kid stops crying and looks to a nearby bush “TYLER YOU FUCKING IDIOT! You scoped the wrong house!” 

A bush rustles before letting out a pathetic “sorry-“ 

Miguel drops the teenager from his grasp to the ground, he makes a sit-down motion with his hand and the teen eagerly obeys. 

With long strides, Miguel goes to the bush and plucks the other teenager out lifting him by the collar and placing him next to his friend. 

Watching as Miguel scolds the teenager you feel a smile creep across your face and that same tingly feeling in your stomach, Miguel O’Hara your hero. 

Walking over you grab Miguel’s arm causing him to fall silent from his reprimanding of the two teens. 

“Miguel, I think they learned their lesson.” You look at the two pathetic-looking teens and they nod urgently. 

Miguel stares at the two young men again, not over what they did “You two, go home and don’t ever do anything like this again. Or else….” 

With that the teens start scrambling and apologizing, running off into the late Halloween night. Your eyes fall to Miguel, his bare chest heaving as he watches the boys run off in irritation, he looks gorgeous. Miguel had come to protect you again, it’s only right you repay him. Sliding your arms around his waist you press soft kisses to his warm body. 

Tease muscles begin to relax with each passing kiss from your soft lips. Swiftly he turns around and looks down at you. You thought he looked fantastic during the day right now he looks damn ethereal. A soft kiss is pressed to your lips, it's caring and full of passion. 

Slipping his tongue past your lips you suddenly feel the night air grazing across your ass as Miguel lifts your robe before his warm hands come to grip you rear, making you whimper. 

Breaking the kiss in one fluid motion Miguel scoops you from your feet and carries you into your home. The kiss becomes hungrier with each passing moment, and before you know it you're crashing onto your sofa with Miguel over you caging you beneath his hard body. Moans escape your lips as he gropes your body, his hands quickly undo your robe, then quickly grab a hold of your breast to play with your sensitive buds, his tongue drags over them coating them in his saliva.  

Pulling away you look at him with blown-out eyes buckling your hips uncontrollably toward him, it's like your in heat. Chuckling softly he bites his lip and he starts to undo his pants, you're still shuddering with anticipation when his cock springs out. 

“You didn't want to go back to the bedroom?” you ask in a shaky breath, holding your hands out to him. Did you want to go back to the room, no you just want to tease him. 

Grabbing a hold of your hands he leans in placing kisses on your fingers and your knuckles before he pins them over your head. 

“I thought you wanted to finish your silly horror movie marathon,” he coos

Grabbing his length with the free hand he slaps it against your aching cunt causing you to jolt your hips up with a quick moan. Proud of himself for the reaction he gets from you he continues as he rubs his cock through your wet folds to gather your arousal, 

“figured we could multitask.”  

With that he slowly seathes himself into your wet heat, your moaning and clawing in back relishing in that fullness you're sure to get addicted to. Miguel can't help but throw his head back at how your pussy sucks him in tightening around him instantly and he's not even fully in yet. Miguel just keeps pumping his hard cock through your velvety tight walls, watching your brain get hazier with each thrust that kisses your cervix, keeping at this you're sure to forget to even breathe let alone watch a movie. 

The Tv seems like a faint buzz between the sounds of Miguel's thrusts and grunts married with your whimpering pants and squelching pussy. The TV catches your attention for a single moment -” Don’t go away, we are playing all Your horror favorites till the witching hour!” 

Miguel grabs your chin and brushes his thumb across your wet lips, a mischievous smirk on his lips makes your sex tighten on him, “Looks like we’re in for a long night baby.”

[jasvtsc]

demon!dean x angel!reader.

tw! mentions of death, anxiety, blood, graphic language, manipulation, dean being an a-hole, corruption, grammar mistakes (ig)

word count! 2.1k

it was hard seeing dean in this state.

at first, you thought he was dead. you watched him die in your arms. then, you found out that he was a demon? and to make everything worse, no one wanted to tell you anything — they thought it was for the best.

why? you had no clue.

so, when they brought him in, back to the bunker, you almost got a heart attack. you wanted to scream, cry, throw up and do everything else that humans do when they’re overstimulated with emotions. however, your state of distressed euphoria didn’t last for long when the bad news came crashing down on you, making you hyperventilate and experience what was called a panic attack. while you were getting more human, your beloved was turning into his worst nightmare.

dean was a demon.

yeah, he indeed died a year prior, but because he was bearing the Mark Of Cain at that time, he was resurrected. and you weren’t exactly sure if you were happy about that.

sure, it was dean. he looked the same.

but it wasn’t your dean.

those green eyes, once full of love and adoration for you, now were as empty as the hole in your heart that his death left. whenever you looked at him, you didn’t see him — the soul once shattered but put back together by you. now, it was only darkness which consumed every tiny bit of light you tried so hard to put in him.

it wasn’t your dean.

you were sitting in the war room in your usual place — an armchair in the corner, right next to the cabinet stuffed with lore books and other things. nervously picking at your wings, you let the feathers drop to the ground as you stared with empty eyes at the wall in front of you. castiel and sam were discussing what to do with dean and how could they possibly save him — if the whole process was even reversible.

you had no idea how they managed to catch him in the first place and drag him back here — no one was telling you anything. you were as clueless as you could be, knowing only that the man you loved the most was now the creature of darkness you were taught to despise since the early stage of creation.

you didn’t get a chance to talk to him yet. and you weren’t exactly sure if you wanted to. you only saw how they dragged his unconscious body to the basement and locked him up in there, chained to the chair in the middle of the anti-possession symbol.

as more and more feathers covered the wooden floor, the man and your angel brother noticed the state you were in. they looked at each other and then back at you. sam sighed and came closer, placing his hand on your shoulder. you shivered lightly and looked at the younger winchester.

“hey, listen, we think that we found something which can help bring dean back. but we can’t leave him alone here so—“ sam explained with a soft smile, and you could see that when he turned his head towards cas, he wanted him to continue. the angel widened his eyes and nodded.

“oh, yeah. we want you to stay with him,” as always, painfully straightforward.

“why me? can’t one of you stay?” because frankly, you didn’t want to face him. not yet.

“birdie, you’re—“ sam started, but you quickly cut him off.

“don’t call me that,” you said with a stern voice, your tone almost threatening. it was what dean used to call you. no way you’d let this word slip from someone else’s mouth — it was reserved only for dean winchester.

“okay, fine, i won’t,” he raised his hands in surrender, taking a step back as he felt like you were about to hit him with something. “it’s just… you’re in no shape to go outside at the moment. look what you’ve done to your wings—“

“what i do with them is my fucking business,” you hissed, and both of them were stunned. you just cursed.

they were looking at you in disbelief, and suddenly, you felt embarrassed with your little outburst. however, you weren’t going to apologize for your feelings — you had an absolute right to be upset and frustrated. so, shooting them both a cold glare, you left the room.

in the end, you were left alone with dean. it took you some time to mentally prepare for the confrontation. but eventually, you pulled your shit together and decided to go down to the basement.

carrying a tray with some food, you slowly opened the door and peeked inside. suddenly, you felt as if your heart was about to burst out of your chest, and your mouth was dry as if you hadn’t seen a drop of water in days. you slowly walked out into the dim light, showing yourself to him after god knows how long.

and then, you heard it — a mocking, cold-hearted chuckle that echoed through the air.

“oh, now, who do we have here? my little birdie. i missed you so much, baby. did you miss me, too?” he asked with a cruel smirk, tilting his head to the side as he sized you up, his eyes flashing a pitch-black colour for a second.

for some reason, all the courage you built up in yourself vanished as soon as you made eye contact with him. he was scary. you never thought you’d admit it, but you were genuinely scared of the man who once used to hold you so dearly in his arms, stroking your hair and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he placed small kisses on your temple. now, he had this darkness in his soul that made you want to hurl — your angelic nature physically declining being anywhere near such evil.

you tightened your fingers on the tray, looking around the room, thinking what you should do. you couldn’t free him from his restraints, but then again, he had to eat, somehow. because still, you cared about him. fuck, you still loved him.

“come on, birdie. you’re not even going to say hi to me? please, let me have a look at your pretty face. it’s been so long,” he cooed, suddenly putting on that soft voice you were so used to hearing. but then again, you could just sense the mockery and the dark intention behind his words. everything coming out of his mouth in this moment was insincere.

but was that enough to make you weak? yes.

because, oh god, even if it was just for your delusions and how naive you were, you just wanted him back. you wanted your dean back, and you were ready to pretend as long as it was needed.

so, slowly, you looked up at him, trying to hold back your tears as they dwelled in your eyes, threatening to spill down your rosy cheeks.

dean smirked menacingly, running his tongue over the top row of his pearly white teeth, letting out a grunt as he bit his lower lip, slightly thrusting his hips forward and spreading his legs.

“there we go. my good little angel,” he taunted, eyeing you up and down with a predatory smile.

“what happened to you?” you asked meekly, your voice trembling as you swallowed a lump in your throat. you were sick to your stomach, and the smell of evil basically radiating from him didn’t help.

“me? nothing, birdie. it’s me, dean. your dean. your precious human, don’t you remember?” he tried acting clueless and innocent but quickly gave in to his demonic nature, letting out a cruel laugh as he threw his head back. “come on, don’t act so fucking dense. i’m a demon, now. you should’ve gathered that much by now. or did they not tell you? no wonder. you’re so fucking infantile that it’s just straight-up pathetic. you’re not a fucking kid. sure, you’re this cute, little, clueless angel. but come on, use your damn feathered brain sometimes,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

and holy shit, did that hurt.

you bit your lower lip, your eyes now obviously glossy when you let out a small sniffle. you just wanted to run and hide somewhere, away from him and his cruel insults. now, you were 100% sure.

it wasn’t your dean.

you were ready to leave the basement. you turned around and took a deep breath, but dean wouldn’t let you go so easily. as soon as he noticed that you wanted to escape, he used his soft voice. again.

“hey, hey, hey. birdie, i’m sorry. you know i didn’t mean that. it’s just—“ he grunted as if he was struggling. “it’s this demon in me. i can’t control it,” he started panting heavily, a smirk still on his face as you were turned with your back facing him. “birdie, please. you have to believe me. i would never hurt you.”

damn, did that work.

hearing him struggle and be in pain just cut at your heartstrings. quickly, you turned around with a panicked expression and stepped closer to him.

“dean?” you asked, your voice breaking as tears flooded your face, dropping from your chin onto his thighs. he nodded, putting on an act and using his most pathetic expression.

“it’s me, birdie. please, help me,” he almost choked on his words, his voice pained and hurting. “please, baby, you’re the only one i can count on.”

you knew you’d probably regret that later. but jesus, you were so gullible, and you loved him so much.

almost immediately, you freed him from his restraints, cupping his face and stroking his stubbled cheeks. he sighed and grabbed your wrists, giving them a gentle squeeze as he leaned into your touch. at this point, you were long gone.

“tell me what’s happening, dean. let me help you,” you whispered, carefully scanning his face, still clueless that all of it was just a scene.

“it hurts. baby, it hurts so badly,” he whimpered, squeezing your wrists tighter. hearing that only made you panic even more.

“where? tell me where, i’ll heal you,” you sobbed, your vision blurry because of your tears.

“you can’t. you can’t heal it,” he panted, closing his eyes shut and grunting in mock pain.

“what do you mean?” you widened your eyes. “why not?”

“there’s only one way you can help me,” and you were ready to do anything for him, your self-preservation instincts turned off instantly. with a nod, you encouraged him to continue. “birdie, i need your blood.”

and that was enough for you to freeze on the spot. your mouth went dry, and you exhaled a shaky breath. he needed your blood, which was probably the most sacred thing in the universe. angel blood was the rarest to get, and it had its power.

“h-how? why?” you stuttered, shaking your head as you tried to understand it. you didn’t know anything about angels helping someone with their blood. and you were scared of the possible consequences.

dean cursed in his head, trying his best not to frown and scoff. instead, he kept on with the pathetic act. he whimpered again and then grunted, leaning forward as he put his hand on his chest, pretending that he struggled to breathe.

“please. i- i can’t,” he groaned and then screamed in pain.

“okay, what do i do?” you asked, widening your eyes as even more panic flooding your system.

“feed it to me. please, birdie. let me drink your blood,” he begged and then, you acted purely on your feelings, throwing any remaining logical thought out the window.

without much further ado, you lifted one of your wings and took a single feather. you slit your wrist with the sharper end, and as the crimson liquid started dripping down your skin at high speed, you put it closer to his face.

dean closed his eyes and inhaled the metallic scent. it took him a lot of effort not to moan in pure pleasure and excitement. he licked his lips and then grabbed your hand, putting his mouth in your wrist and drinking your blood like a man starved. you gasped and scrunched your eyes, tilting your head away as he dug his teeth into your skin for a better grip.

you began to feel more and more lightheaded as he drank more and more of your blood. when you finally looked back at him, only then did you realize your mistake. his eyes were pitch black, and his mouth was covered in your blood. he pulled away and smiled sadistically, looking at you like a feral animal.

he pushed you onto the floor and chuckled darkly, looking around the room. he grabbed the feather you dropped and it practically rotted in his hand, turning into a dark blade-like object. you widened your eyes, crawling away from him as he started to walk towards you with a bloodthirsty smile. and then, only one word slipped from his blood-covered mouth.

“run.”

a/n: idea inspired by @angelicjackles !! lmk what you think, all feedback is very much appreciated:))

༄♡ tags: @internetitgirl17 @beausling @deanswidow @titsout4nicholas @deansbite @aileenunfiltered @a1ecmcdowell @angelicp0etry @figthoughts @fitxgrld @hrtsoldierboy @10ava01

[hannie-dul-set]

heartbeat conquest — day 1.

SYNOPSIS. you’re sucked into a reverse harem otome game, and there’s only one goal— say the right things to conquer as many pretty boys as you can. PAIRINGS. tomorrow x together x reader. TAGS. social media! au, modern fantasy, reverse harem (of fucking course), romance, humor, a whole bunch of weird dynamics maybe HUAHAHAHAHAHHAAH. inspired by the manhwa with the same title, “heartbeat conquest.”

it has been thirty minutes since you started staring at your phone.

the walls that surround you have transformed from a pink to a light beige. the bubblegum floors have turned into carpet. and the bed you’ve sunk yourself into feels just as foreign as it is yours. what is this? what is going on? you have a rough idea on just what you’ve gotten yourself into, but it’s still difficult to wrap your head around.

sanctuary. angel. knight. savior. lover. considering the premise, these must be the love interests you have to conquer. yet you have yet to open any of their messages because the “system” didn’t even bother to provide you with any context on who these strangers are! even otome games give a brief profile of your targets. how are you supposed to know which of these nameless and faceless bastards is your type?

“ugh,” you grunt, jumping off of bed and feeling the plush carpet against your skin— a warm and sickly feeling. the window shows the midnight moon shining above what appears to be a college campus, buildings lining up before and after this one, a wide field directly below you and connected pavements from one concrete wall to another. your guess that this is a dormitory is proven to be correct. but you don’t understand how everything seems to have the same bubblegum pink filter clouding over your vision.

ding!

you pause for a moment.

the system has made it very clear. you know what you’re supposed to be doing.

first impressions: what the fuck, all these love interests are in some what or another— off. weird. is this some screwed up otome game? do you have to deal with a bunch of creeps to get yourself out of this? now, that’s not your only problem. five out of five of these guys want to meet with you, and all on the same date nonetheless.

from what you have gathered, you have to win all of them over. but you’re left with no choice but to pick one of them this time.

now— who would you like to meet first?

NOTE. oooh choices HAHHAHAHA. now let me just give you guys a hint: some of these boys are gonna benefit if you don’t pick them. i wanted to give my spin on the usual reverse harem tropes, and fuck with them a little BWAHAHAHAHHA. the reason why angel and knight haven’t been unlocked yet is well........you guys failed to get a big enough reaction for them (whether it be negative or positive).

as usual, please answer the form linked above to progress. i will close them once i feel like i’ve gotten enough responses!

DAY 0 | DAY 1 | DAY 2

heartbeat conquest. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ MAGNESIUM

tw. noncon, blood, branding/marking, some pretty egregious dirty talk and degradation, threats, mirror sex, horror elements, knife play, manipulation, murder, little bit of gore, there be a dead body in here somewhere wordcount. 6.3k

a/n. ♡ commissioned by a lovely lovely person whomst im so grateful for ♡ i reallyyy liked writing sakusa a lot so i hope you like it and it is what you hAd IN MINDDD!! this was such a fun commission thank yoUU a ton seriously! mwUah ♡♡♡ i hopeee you enjoy!!! kiSsES once again a million million kisses to everyone who helped read through it when i was struggling you're the bestest ilY

sakusa kiyoomi x fem!reader

It’s almost impossible to believe that everything led up to - this. You’re slumped against the car door in the back, and though you’re not knocked out, you sort of wish you were. Instead you have to feel the hard glare Kiyoomi sends you through the rear view mirror each time his eyes flick up as he reverses out of the street. There’s tension so thick that you can’t just cut it, but it’s troubling the air between you two like polluted water. Silence drags on until you wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt to warm up.

“Where are we going?” You whisper. 

The man in front smoothly turns the corner, as an almost impalpable furrow moves his brow. It takes him too long to answer for your liking, as you shuffle in the leather seat, unable to get comfortable. “I don’t like fighting with you, but you always push me.” The dry tone and answer says everything his eyes can’t. “Tonight pissed me off, you know? I’m not ever gonna let you go.”

“All this because Atsumu complimented me?” You try, and when that doesn’t get a reaction - not even a blink, your hands clamp together. “He’s like that to everyone. He was calling Hinata ‘real handsome’ all evening.” Nothing. The Kiyoomi you fell in love with was a bit sarcastic and clumsy in his words, but he wasn’t ever cruel. Wasn’t ever purposefully standoffish. What seems left of him is only the brittle, icy void. You would’ve been better off breaking up days ago.

He also would’ve given the blond the benefit of the doubt.

You can basically feel the smile shine off of your face closing the billowing curtains against the golden light, looking back at the dark-haired beauty splayed out over your bed. You clear your voice. “So what’s the deal with your teammate- that Miya guy?” Kiyoomi’s brow raises a few millimeters. “He’s serious? He’s really like that all the time?”

“The whole flirtatious act?” Your boyfriend yawns into the question, before rolling over so that his muscular shoulders, pecks, and that pretty waist are even more distracting. It’s infuriating how good he looks. But you nod, and place yourself down on the edge - where he trails a lazy hand over the back of your hand. “Oh, yeah. He has this overflowing… charisma that you can’t help but get used to, and learn to appreciate.” He chuckles when you frown. “He drives me up the wall. But he’s a good guy.”

“Hmm?” Your pout is instantly enough to have him reaching around to pull you down onto him. “You’re not worried?”

You try to blink away tears, and stare out the window instead, at every light that flashes past. More to yourself than to him, you hiccup as you brush away the wobbly lines of heat down your cheeks. “You’ve been acting so— different.” He barely glances before turning too comfortably at the next lights, speeding up enough to make your chest feel tight. “I don’t know what’s happened, but I want you to go back to how you were.” That’s the only way you can put it. It’s like there’s nothing left.

Kiyoomi’s mouth corners drop at your confession, but he doesn’t speak. You’re not sure you want him to anyway. His free hand runs through his brushed back hair, long fingers sitting still against the steering wheel when they land. And they don’t move again as you sit in the quiet cold.

“Worried?” He repeats, calm expression changing into a grin. “Please, Miya fucking wishes.” You laugh when his lips start dragging down your pulse and he softly moans against you. “You’ve got way better taste than that. In neighbors - and,” his kisses get a little more hot and needy when his large hands glide down your body to grab your ass and pull you closer, “in boyfriends- and in perfume— you smell sexy, ‘s that new?”

You giggle harder, can’t help but get flustered when he gets so touchy. “I’ll get an inflated ego if you compliment me so much.” He shrugs, and positions you better onto his broad chest. But still. “How don’t you get jealous? I’m pretty sure I would if the roles were reversed.” His dark hair is splayed out over the pillow when he drops his head back, and those pretty eyes flick over your face for a second, thinking.

“I do,” he eventually breathes, “but not because of you, and definitely not with Miya Atsumu.” When you start giggling again, he frowns. “I mean, truly- genuinely-” You snort, and he stares at you with an affronted look. “If you wanna run into the egotistical, bombastic, borderline- pathetic sunset with that guy, I might have to take a long, hard look at myself. Wonder what horrible traits you’re dating me for.” His eyes fall back to you when you take a deep breath, and he goes a little bit softer as you nuzzle up under his chin. “You wanna leave me for a shitty dye job?”

“I don’t think so,” you whisper back. He looks much too at ease in the comfort of your now shared apartment.

The silence that once felt so comfortable, now squeezes the life out of you with all it’s got. Only after a few minutes, Kiyoomi’s voice reaches out, and the shiver down your neck seems to screw the icy collar down tighter.

“Y’know, I hate how that Miya looks at you. Makes me want to carve his fucking eyes out.”

+

About a week into living in Tokyo, you decide it’s not all that bad. Hauling along the giant box of fresh veggies and two more bags of groceries, you can barely look over enough to watch the elevator open, and hasten your steps. “Hold the door, please! There’s no way I’m doing the stairs today,” you sigh, and watch as the doors ping. You slide in just in time, and a deep chuckle follows when your arms start slowly folding with the weight.

“That’s … some collection you’ve got there,” the deep voice continues, “did I miss the call on doomsday?”

You manage to turn yourself enough to see the pair of warm, obsidian eyes staring down at you - soft curly hair freshly wet from a shower. The eggplants and pumpkins in your box start rolling toward the edge, so you shift the box onto your side with a struggling smile. “No, I- I like to buy in big batches and pre-chop everything to freeze. I don’t really love cooking so… that way I save- some time while still…” You fall quiet when he keeps your gaze without any reaction, and clear your voice. Most of his face is kept behind a black surgical mask, hiding what you imagine to be the rest of a handsome face.

But no one likes being stuck in unwanted small talk, do they. He nods though, right as you arrive on your floor and the doors slide open. “That’s smart. I’ll have to try that sometime.” The box starts slipping further. The noiret’s eyes go from your face to your white-knuckled grip, and then back. “Would you like some help with that?”

“Please,” you can’t say quickly enough, afraid that one wrong move will send the entire box rolling across the floor. It’s not like you to admit defeat so easily, but currently your pride could cost you a hundred on fresh produce, and— he doesn’t seem like the type to ask if he’d mind. Your neighbor doesn’t say anything, but his eyes crinkle a little with a smile. Aside from some very brief passings in the hallway, you haven’t had the chance to meet any of your building’s occupants yet. He doesn’t bat an eye when lifting the very heavy box out of your arms, and you fluster. “Sorry for the hassle.”

“No, it’s alright. I have the afternoon off - ‘s nothing. You’re the new 3B tennant, right?” He frees one hand just to slide his mask down when you nod your face towards your door. He’s probably the prettiest guy you’ve seen to date, strong jawline, full lips and an almost perfectly straight nose; dark curls framing smart, observant eyes. So not only is he tall and charming, he’s also hot. When you mumble a soft acknowledgement, he gives you a little smile, and you can’t help but feel a bit too seen. “I’m Kiyoomi.”

You think you like Kiyoomi.

+

The heat of hands shakes you out of sleep with a slight startle, and the surprise soon makes way for a wave of rolling pleasure mixed under a heavy layer of embarrassment - at the way Kiyoomi’s toying with your body like it’s his own, and the low chuckle he lets out when you let out a pinched whimper. One of his hands is two fingers deep inside your pussy by the time you can even blink the sleep out of your eyes, feeling the warmth flood onto your face. As slick gathers between your thighs, he pushes himself up above you, and squeezes your throat between his free fingers.

“Sorry for waking you up, baby.” There’s a sharp glint in his eyes that you can’t miss even with the low light, deep from within. His hand slides down the curve of your spine to settle around your hip, pressing you further into bed as your back arches when he curls his fingers without any mercy. Though you are leaving wetness all over his hand, the sudden invasion is still a little jarring, definitely when he starts sucking at your tits and bites down. “Omi, ow,” you breathe, and he only grunts as he nudges a thigh between your knees, spreading you apart. “Right now?”

“Shhh, just bear it for a bit,” he mumbles back, as his hand trails down your ribcage and forces your body to adjust to him when he hikes your leg over his shoulder. “Woke up so hard thinking of you, and- you were so cute just sleeping here next to me without a worry in the world.” His fingers are replaced quickly by the hot head of his cock, that is slid a few inches too deep right away, and your whimpering only drives him further. “Ah, fuck, there it is. Good- fucking- girl…” By the time he bottoms out there’s silvery slivers running down your face and you’re shaking your head as the ache has you moaning with pain.

But the dark haired man above you barely gives you any time to adjust, before he starts rocking himself against your center and rubbing himself deep enough to force your mouth shut. “You trust me, don’t you, angel?” He pants, stroking the inside of your thigh a few times, before starting a punishing rhythm that rocks the bed hard. The question takes you off guard, but it doesn’t seem like Kiyoomi needs an answer to keep going anyway, and you swallow down your whimper to hide your face in the pillow. He’s so big and rough and your body can’t keep up. “Oh, your pussy’s so fucking good. So tight and- warm, agh, fuck.”

Jutting out your lip into a little pout, you let out a little noise. You’re trying not to let the way he’s basically getting himself off inside you ruin your mood. After a moment, you blink up at him with wobbly vision. “Can you kiss me?” He takes a few seconds before the words register, fucking you harder each time he bottoms out— before his dark eyes go from your eyes to your lips like he’s having to debate it. And that hurts. He decides maybe against better judgment to lean in anyway, and presses his lips to yours with a low sigh, an almost moan that you suppose you have to be content with. 

He pushes your knee up to your chest as he gets closer, and the heavy pressure of his body on yours gets even more unbearable when his free hand wraps around your neck and presses until you’re gasping out. Your boyfriend’s eyes glint as they flick all over your face, and a small grin starts to travel up his lips. “Don’t you like me better like this?” You’re too distracted by the pounding in your head to answer, and whine out his name as your back arches off the bed. And Kiyoomi pants as he forces you to take each thrust. “I like you a lot. Wanna keep you.” You throw your head back, and reach around his wide shoulders to pull him even closer, trying to lock your legs around his waist with a sigh.

“Shit, you’re so fucking pretty, baby,” he pants into your mouth as he rocks himself into you, forehead to forehead as your nails dig into his skin. You feel bad, but you can’t help but pull him closer by his shoulders as the shower water trickles between you two and makes the entire room a steamy mix of pants and sweaty touches. “So-” he kisses messily, making you smile as his tongue swipes yours, “-damn pretty. I love your body so much.”

“And me?” You breathe back, letting your body tremble in his strong hands as he rocks himself so deep inside you that it’s making you breathless. Your little whine makes him stare, and nod.

“Of course I love you even more— don’t be silly- agh, fuck.” You move one hand to brush the wet tresses of hair out of his face and let yourself get moved up and down him, thighs wrapped ever so tight around his narrow waist. He breathes your name like the word itself is lovely, and you can’t help but moan a long whimper of his name when he hits the right spot so perfectly. “You feel so good, taking my cock right in there- that tight, little pussy. Drooling all over me, huh.” Another kiss as you swallow your mix of spit and rest your hand on his cheek. “You drive me crazy. I really- ugh- really love you, baby.”

Your tits brush up against his chest. “Promise?”

“Uhuh, mh-ahg. Promise. I can’t get enough of you.”

Sometimes you swear you can hear the house close in around you with heavy breaths.

+

The door to your apartment already hangs open when you notice the noise. The low thumping that is only audible when you slide the headphones off, a vaguely rhythmic noise that makes the hairs on your neck stand. You slide off the bed with a little frown, and smooth the wrinkles in your camisole as you peer into the open apartment area - which is empty. “Babe?” The door wobbles when the wind passes through, and your frown only digs deeper into your face when there’s no answer.

“Kiyoomi?”

The noise is louder when you walk towards the hall, and fist your hands into the bottom of the flimsy dress to pull it down. Only after a few moments of thought, your instinct drives you across the hall to pull open the door of the neighbors’, a young guy who moved in after you two did. Sure enough, your stomach drops as the scene splays out before you. There’s red all over the floor, Kiyoomi’s hands, and most horrifying - all over Ryouta’s nose and mouth as the barrage of fists lands over and over again— and you let out a horrified gasp. The damage has already been done, the brunet lays back with swollen eyes and is no longer fighting back, and you’re basically stunned in place as his knuckles crack on his cheek again.

When you manage the next breath, you force out a call of his name between tears. “Hck- Kiyoomi- w-what are you-,” your voice sounds too tiny to be your own, but any more volume doesn’t make it out of your throat, “please stop.” The last crack that resounds before he stops is even harder than any of the ones before— and he gets up without a word, smoothing his jersey back in place. He only quiets a moment, before turning over his shoulder to look at you. You, wobbling toward him like a baby deer.

Honestly, you don’t want to worry about him. But you can’t help but take his hands in yours to inspect the split knuckles, bloody and bruised— as if this is some bizarre dream. Kiyoomi’s precious about his hands. They’re his dreams, his passions, and his opportunities all in one, something to be cared for, rested gently like they mattered more than anything else. And now they’re bloodied like animals at the slaughter. When you look up at him- there’s no regret, no worry or care or concern. Just a blank sort of faux-understanding of your worry when he reaches out to brush your cheek.

You pull back away to look instead at the young man on the floor, because if you think about it too hard, you might start sobbing. Your hands drop by your thighs and feel so heavy, tears drying on your face. “Why did you-”

“Got back from my run and he said he needed your help.” There’s a cold, detached resolution in his voice. “And I told him to forget it, and then he asked me what ‘the fuck’ my problem was.” You find yourself shrinking into yourself when his dark eyes shift to you, with that unreadable look in his eye once more. His hands are slid into his pant pockets with a soft sigh, but he still raises an eyebrow your way. “Why would another guy need my girl?” Ryouta’s been nothing but nice to you since he moved in. You believed, maybe mistakenly, that that niceness had extended to your boyfriend.

But staring at the poor, battered face of the guy on the floor— something tells you that even if it did, Kiyoomi no longer cares. It feels like really, he’ll take any excuse to lash out. Your eyes flick over his face again, before swallowing. “I don’t know. Maybe it was a misunderstanding.” For the first time since you’ve noticed this new side to him, you’re truly scared when he eyes you down. You’ve been upset, and worried, and angry before - but this is new. As the only sound between you two is the shallow rise and fall of your chest, you try to walk up and wrap your arms around his bicep. “I love you, Kiyoomi. I have only ever… loved you.”

He frees a hand to run it over your hair, before leaning down to rest his nose at your crown. “I know you do. You’re a smart little thing, that’s why I like you.” His training jacket still smells like mint and eucalyptus wash sheets, and it does absolutely nothing to soothe the aching pressure that makes its way between your ears and squeezes. And the soft kiss to your forehead doesn’t, either. “Get back inside. I’ll be right there in a bit.”

+

Your apartment is barely a shell of itself now. You realize it -truly realize it- when you toss and turn in your bed and can’t help but get stuck on little things that shouldn’t matter, but they do. The sheets are different, silkier somehow. Kiyoomi got new toothbrushes instead of the old ones with dolphins, and your entire apartment smells just different enough to make it pressing. Slightly bleachy, and too hospital-like. A blue haze is cast through the window by the moon when you softly slip out of bed, ignoring the way a soft puff comes from your boyfriend. He doesn’t stir as you move, though his empty hand seems to reach for the heat you left. Normally you’d wonder if he misses you when you go, but instead the reach just feels possessive. 

It’s like living with a brand new boyfriend all over again.

You don’t like it as much the second time, you realize, trying to choke down the bad air you’re breathing. As you wobble around in the dark, it’s hard to find your footing. The door clicks too loud for your liking when you brush it closed behind you, and slide down onto the couch as your eyes adjust to the dark. You feel like you’re hanging off the edge of falling apart as you look around the room— and try to think. That night when he came home, when he stared off into space and wouldn’t talk to you, your first thought was of another woman. Kiyoomi had never given you any reason to doubt.

He was handsome and intelligent and you were lucky to have him, but he always made it easy to trust him. If he wanted to be with you he’d be with you.

But as more and more days passed, small things got bigger. Not letting you call friends, not letting you dress how you wanted to, glaring at anyone who so much as looked up at you on the street. He’d never been so possessive when things were good. Still, you don’t want to mourn a relationship that isn’t even over yet. You cover your sniffles into your hand, and get up from the couch to go search through his jacket for his phone, or wallet. A stray bobby pin or earring, anything to make sense of the mess inside your head. You wouldn’t be proud of this in the morning - but your brain is eating itself alive. The apartment’s so quiet at night, and the old building pants and moans in the darkness.

The small closet is hotter than the rest of the apartment, more damp too. The jackets are piled high on the dryer, and though you shove your hand down every pocket, your search turns up empty. After a few seconds of turning the last pair of pockets inside out, you sink down into a crouch— and take a deep breath. Just a few weeks ago, you’d thought that you could see yourself marrying Kiyoomi. You’d spent hours by his side, convinced that no one in the world knew you better than he did.

A soft whistling noise sounds from behind the dryer, and makes you wipe your hand under your nose. There’s an old door to a bricked up stairway here, that you never got any use out of. Kiyoomi once stored some brooms there, you think. You don’t know what possesses you to slide your hands into the narrow space between the dryer and the wall and pull, but with some force- it moves. You strain to drag it aside until you jerk, scrambling up.

A track of blood.

Smeared over your normally proper linoleum, there’s a dried off-maroon that can only be blood, crusted onto the wood as a dark patch between the dryer and the door. Your chest caves. Instead of normal breaths, shallow gasps start making your entire body go solid and cold, and your throat dries up. This can’t … it isn’t real. Can’t be. Everything inside you tries to convince you that this is just a nightmare, but even as you pinch your arm hard, nothing happens.

Blood rushes to your bruised knees as you look around, trying not to panic too hard— instead put a shaky hand on the handle. It could be rusty water. A busted pipe. As you move at a glacial pace to open the door, it creaks, and you lick your lips. You can’t cry. You want nothing more than to explode into a dam of tears and unload, but it’s like your body refuses. Every second makes your body pump with adrenaline, until the door clicks open and reveals the narrow space - and in it, something that doesn’t make sense.

Blood pools on the floor, dulled, matted and a disgusting, sticky mess that has you gasping; only to hold back a gag. But in it, sits the slumped, unmoving body of your boyfriend.

The same boyfriend you were sleeping next to just a few minutes ago.

Every hair on your body rises when you choke on the smell, and sink down to press your fingers to his pulse— even when the off white pallor of his face says everything it should. “Omi?” You whisper, and when you breathe out, your throat closes up. You want to wake up. Your first coherent thought is that you can’t breathe; the next, to run. There’s no more heat in his skin, icy to the touch, and it frightens you so much that you jerk back and slam the door to the closet, stopping abruptly between the couch and the door.

It’s when the lights flick on that you do regret that.

Kiyoomi’s voice sounds deeper when you turn. As he stares at you, he brushes his messy curls out of his face. “What are you doing?” You don’t speak. Nothing but a shallow hiccup makes it out of your mouth, but you’re still holding out your hands like they’ve been burned, and maybe that’s enough for him to slide his eyes over to the closet. For a moment it stays quiet. So quiet that you can hear the blood rush beneath your skin, pumping with adrenaline you have no room for. Kiyoomi’s dead. Your Kiyoomi’s dead, isn’t he. “Ah.”

“I- I-”

“You weren’t supposed to go snooping, angel. You’re really making things difficult.” The noiret’s quiet calmness makes way for a slight smile, before he steps out of the doorway towards you. And you flatten yourself to the wall on shaky legs, but moving any more than that feels impossible. You’ve never been so scared in your life— literally frozen solid to the wall as your panicked hiccups send tears welling up in thick, childish bubbles that refuse to tip. He gives you an up and down, before pointing at you as he walks over to the closet, and sighs. “Don’t move.”

You couldn’t, even if you had the courage to. And you very much don’t. It’s so cold— you watch as he pushes into the small room only to drag the body you’d left there out of it. The heavy scraping noise of a limp body across the floor is almost enough to have you totally break. When he dumps the body in the middle of your shared living room, you manage to let out a few noises, strangled, pathetic noises, before you wring your hands together. “W-what did you do to Kiyoomi?”

“I am Kiyoomi,” he says back with enough certainty to shake you, and then smiles a little when finally the tears spill, and you shake your head left and right through your panic.

“You’re not—” is all you can squeak before he walks up to you too close and grabs your face, leaving sticky cold blood with his touch. Your cheek is almost held lovingly, but one glance up at his eyes convinces you that it’s anything but. It’s predatory, a mean glitter of amusement that plays in the darkness, and the harder you cry, the giddier it seems to get. “Let me go, p-please,” you sniffle, “let me go. I won’t tell, I just don’t wanna be- h-here.”

“Shhh, we might as well pretend I’m him still. You look so cute whining that name like it’s your fucking job.” He takes you by the hand after pressing a brief kiss on your forehead, and then sits you down onto the couch. And your chest still feels much too rattled to think about running anywhere, but when he pushes one finger into your mouth with a slight grin, you consider it. “Don’t know any better, do you?” He groans. You want to bite and run, and hide until everything stops pounding— but run where? Your boyfriend’s cold on the floor of your apartment. You can barely stop crying for long enough to take a breath, and the man above you pushes another finger down your throat. “Such a pretty little girlfriend I’ve got- look here-” 

You do - can’t help it when the pressure starts choking you, and whatever frightened look you’re giving him, is enough to make him groan long and hard. It fucks with your brain. It’s still your boyfriend- looks, smells, tastes the same- and if you stop paying attention for a few seconds, it’s almost like everything is back to normal. It’s almost like you’re safe as long as you pretend not to notice what’s going on around just you and the invasive touches that are forced onto you. “Man, you look so fucking wrecked, baby. Say my name, won’t you?” His grin is wide and cheshire-like when he leans in and starts nudging your top down your shoulders. “Say ‘please, Kiyoomi’.”

He doesn’t move his fingers out of the way to allow you. Instead you whimper around his fingers, and try not to choke as spit gets all over your chin and his hand. “Pwea-se, Kiy-oomi.”

“Hahah, you’re so fucking nasty, getting spit all over me. Drooling like a fucking dog while you’re being forced— You like whining and moaning for me?” He takes his fingers out to wipe them on your flimsy camisole and stands to start sliding down his boxers, pushing you back towards the couch. The small grin changes to a tight grimace when you try to grab at him for comfort. “Ah ah ah, don’t think so.” There’s a fistful of hair in his hand before you can apologize, as he shoves you face down towards the couch and holds you there, cheek pressed to the rough fabric. Until your face is hung just off the side, and you’re forced to face the trail of blood that ends in a familiar face.

It’s horrible, and the harder you squeeze your eyes shut against the wave of fresh tears, the deeper the image seems to force itself into your brain. “Kiyoomi~” You whimper pathetically, and he hums in response. Everything’s too close, too loud, his touch is too real and too pressing and warm— burning you from the inside out as he yanks your clothing the last bit down until it hangs around your waist and he drags his fingers up and down your slit through your panties a few times. It leaves the wet fabric awfully sticky against your pussy, and your cheeks get hotter. It’s not your fault, his fingers work you in ways that always work. That thought has your eyes flicking open, but the horrific sight has yet to disappear. “Mh-hck,” you start up again, and try to roll aside as he grabs your thigh hard to hold you in place. “I wanna stop. I wanna stop.”

“Aw, poor baby. Poor angel.” The dismissive tone is cooed as a loving mockery when he pushes you down between your shoulder blades and yanks your panties the rest of the way down. “You don’t even know what to do with yourself, huh?” He then yanks your head up so you’re forced to stare at your reflection in the window, unable to see anything else. You can’t close your eyes to hide from it. Kiyoomi’s grabbing you tight enough to have you unable to move. “I’ll give you a hint. You lay here and you take it. You just listen nice and sweet, ugh-” He groans low when pushing the hot head of his cock against your entrance, patting it with a patient sigh— only to push in with a force that makes you jerk.

Why does it hurt so much? You wanna cry harder when he forces all the heavy girth of his cock inside you and the wetness dripping between your legs squelches loud, but your throat’s too clogged to. Instead only a pinched moan comes out, and he grunts when bottoming out deep inside you. “Girls who don’t listen make me wanna cut them open and eat their insides out. Would you like that?” The pull on your hair forcing your head up is making you lightheaded. That, and the stinging, uncomfortable tightness inside your pussy, squeezing and clenching against the intrusion - still isn’t enough to drown out the horror of those words as he whispers them.

Almost instantly you shake your head left and right, and your muffled ‘no’s melt into a childish cry. “No, nonono, Omi- ‘yoomi- I, no~ pleas-hck- stop. Wanna stop.” He pulls back his hips for long enough to really let you feel the ache of your walls as they cling to his cock, but then thrusts back in and bounces you on his cock. He drops your head back to the side of the couch, and places a hand in the middle of your spine to anchor you down under his weight. 

“You don’t? I think you’re lying. You want to be treated like a sack of meat.” His hips make a loud sound when connecting with your ass. “You don’t like this?”

“Ow, oww, Omi- ‘hurts-” You’re fighting against the caving of your chest each time you exhale, and forced to take shorter breaths each time he fucks back into you. “Ah, ow.” And your pussy hurts, but the rolling of his hips and the stubborn, deep grinding is too overwhelming. You hate that you can hear the wetness of your cunt squeezing around the pumping of him inside, you hate the way he breathes above you, how you can feel him everywhere. It makes you sick. It’s all too much, and still it feels so fucking good that you’re hot in the face. “Mhm~ ‘m sorry. I’m sorry.” You blink through the tears to stare just a second at the trail of blood that he made from the closet to the couch— but you can’t make yourself look any closer. Instead you aim your eyes back at your reflection, and meet other eyes.

“You haven’t wanted to play with me much since I got here. ‘S your own fault that I’m all pent up now, stupid girl.” The steady rhythm in and out of your needy pussy is too much. It feels so good— and you hate it. You clench your hands into the couch as best you can and try to hang on, until your knuckles turn white. The noiret’s voice is back to taunt you, this time as his other hand reaches around to grab the soft of your throat and squeeze, shaking you back to him. “If you want your nice, reliable Kiyoomi, look- he’s right here for you.” You can’t. You can’t. Your tears well over in ugly rivers that you shut behind your lids, and Kiyoomi makes a noise.

You can’t tell if it’s a pleased noise or not, you don’t care. He rolls his hips, and your cunny accepts too eagerly. But it still feels so fucking good. And you can’t stop yourself from feeling like the worst person in the world. Your hands shake, and your head feels faint. Kiyoomi’s dead. There’s nothing else to know. Kiyoomi’s dead and you’re about to cum getting fucked— your whimper gives you away. It’s faint, but he hears it. “Hm, you don’t like him either now huh?” Instead of squeezing your throat, his hand moves to grab your tit instead, pinching your puffy nipple until you can’t help but make a noise. You’re so gross. And your pussy’s still pulling him back in, clenching to the pulsing heat as it fucks right into the softest part of your walls. “I- agh, f- I like bullying my pretty little cock sleeve to tears. So- f-fucking cute like this.”

He ruts into you until your belly feels hot and tingly, and you grind back against him on instinct. You’re getting so close, the pinching, the precise way he hits the needy spot deep inside you - you don’t even want to. “No, no- Omi, I’m- agh, please stop.” You really don’t. “I’m- I’m gonna—” But before you can stop it, your eyes squeeze shut, and your entire body goes tense. The tight ball of heat that’s been expanding all over your body with each pump, each time his heavy balls slap against you, explodes into a million pieces. “Kiyoomi, I love you, I’m so- sorry, I’m so sorry, it’s— all my fault.”

As he fucks you through the blooming heat and the white and black spots that play on your lids, he groans your name low and possessive. Your clenching only slows way after you’ve grinded yourself back against him and drooled all over the couch, until your tired body drops back into the plush. And Kiyoomi lets out a little chuckle. “Yea, it’s all your fault, stupid girl. You lay here and stay— I’ll be right back.” You barely feel the heat leave until it comes back, shoving some of the wetness from your sensitive pussy right back inside with a grunt, and a harsh tap of his hand to your pussy. The sting is sharp, and you glare through your tears as you look up. Not that he cares. “Here. Look. Kiss it.”

The sharp blade that’s basically shoved in your face glints when you hesitate, and suck your bottom lip into your mouth. “Come on. Or else I’ll put it to use on him instead, and you don’t want that, do you?” Your lips press against the cold metal, but your eyes stay resolutely on his face. Dark curls framing dark eyes and long lashes — you often told him he was the most beautiful man you knew. You wonder if he remembered it in the end. You suppose it doesn’t matter though, watching his mirror click his tongue.

“Good girl, such a good baby girl under all the crying and mess, aren’t you? Almost make me think you like me better like this after all.” You can’t answer, but the tears that wobble sadly along your waterline spill over in the silence— and your lip wobbles. And Kiyoomi only brushes a thumb along your lip, before shrugging. “No? That’s a shame. Because you are mine now. Mine. All of you.” He points the knife into the top of your leg, and leaves behind a mark that immediately wells up with dotted red. The immediate pain and sting of hot blood sears through your skin. “Tell me again what name you want me to write? Say it nice and sweet, angel.”

Your voice doesn’t shake as much as you think it should. “Kiyoomi.”

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2023. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[something-about-sunflowers]

ALRIGHT, *cracks knuckles* let's get into that teaser, shall we?

Should I itemize this? I think I'm going to itemize it lmao.

So:

Starting here because this is a baseline for Stede, he's got no neckerchief here. This is likely early in the season, probably the very start.

Man's got a fuckin' ARM.

This is Ed. You can see the bare right arm in both shots.

Red neckerchief. Ed's scrap of silk? Beat to shit if it is, which, he did toss it out to sea so, it would be.

Ed's not wearing the knee brace. Or gloves for that matter. I know the knee brace being an actual mobility aid is unconfirmed canon/fanon but it does make me :(c to see him without it. Either it wasn't actually considered as a mobility aid or he's lost it like he's lost his gloves OR he's going without it because he doesn't care if it hurts.

Closer shot of the neckerchief.

I just wanted to point out all the knives stabbed into the table. Also, those look like bits of paper on the windows, did they keep some of the books to repurpose for window blocking purposes?

THERE HE IS!!!!!!!! Other people have already pointed out the makeup and his ring still on his tie, along with the whip on his hip cjizzy real. He's got a new baldric but I also think his clothes look. Darker? Than in season 1? This is a darker/heavier contrast setting but it carries into other shots of him too I think? Like they're less sun/saltwater faded or something?

Other thing to note: If I have my orientation right, this is to the right of Stede's bed nook and to the left of the library, which means this shelf is the one with the auxiliary wardrobe opening mechanism. Which I bring up because:

This little guy seems to be in the place of the mannequin. Ed kept the auxiliary wardrobe and gothed up the mannequin to justify it still being there.

SO much here. This is, I'm fairly certain, Benjamin Hornigold. This camp he's set up (along with what he's wearing) looks like it was made out of a shipwreck. Ed's barefoot and missing his jacket and gloves, and his shirt's torn up at the sleeves. Definitely where he washed up from his dip in the ocean.

Note the trees and the lighting, that comes up later. Ed shoots here and Ben moves with the shot but it doesn't look like he was actually HIT by it to my eyes.

'Wanted. |Blackbeard| Villainous Pirate. Murderer, thrice over. $400 Reward for the criminal responsible for: theft - brigandry - larceny - arson - tax evasion ➡' Presumably there are more crimes/info on the back, though we see the reverse side in the next cut and it's either blank or all in very small text, I couldn't quite tell.

The poster to the right says 'Port' something which has me wondering Port Royal but that's just the only 'Port' something I know, could def be somewhere else.

(Also, just for fun:

Here's how much abouts Ed's capture would be worth now.)

Wider pic than it needs to be but I didn't wanna cut out Olu lol. ANYWAY. Neckerchief again. Also the back of the poster, see what I mean about it either being blank or very tiny?

Babygirl. . . But also that Bride Ed figure kinda slays. Little bralette with the midriff showing, I see you Babygirl. When will he be allowed to just rest and do silly little crafts WITHOUT heartbreak looming over him?

Well. Four is not nine. So. There's that. The other five could be used or out of frame though, of course.

OH. He's back to his fingerless gloves! They might actually be different from his original ones though, they look different at the wrist to me, not quite sure though.

The BOYS!!!! Frenchie looks like he's having a GREAT time. Considering he suggested they turn the hostage into a table and complained about the Republic of Pirates being a bit gentrified I'd say this is more in line with what he's used to in piracy. I 100% buy he was going along with Stede's way because he knew it was an easy ride compared to real piracy. This wouldn't necessarily be a return to form for him but definitely something he's more used to? And he gets to be kitty :3c

And FANG!!! Look at him showing a bit more skin!! Good for him!!

Everybody say 'Thank You David Jenkins'. Right now. Look at this Mad Max shit. Fuckin' Imperator Jimenez right there. LOVE that tye added the 'beard' after the 'fuck's wrong with your face?' bit in 1x10. Full 'it looked weird on you but I slay' energy.

Jim

Izzy

Fang

Near as I can tell at least. I can't make out if Frenchie is in the shot and I'm pretty positive Ed isn't cause he stayed by the cake when they charged in.

Man, yknow I know we were all kinda clowning on it a bit at the end of 1x10 but this look really is so JARRING. Like, in the dark it's menacing but in the light? It's unhinged and that reads as more dangerous imo.

Also just for comparison's sake the pre-Ed-ified version of the bride figure. He really did full on customize that thing lol.

I DON'T THINK ANNE KISSED STEDE HERE. It feels out of character of the show to pull the 'It's fine if a woman does it to a man' kind of thing with regard to unwanted kissing. This is the frame the scene starts on in the trailer. She's leaning back from him and isn't nearly close enough to his mouth to say for certain that's where she was coming from. My money is on her leaning in to whisper something into his ear, maybe under the guise of it being an advance/intended kiss, which would also explain the annoyed look when she's interrupted. She either got ACTUALLY interrupted or it's part of the act. Stede doesn't look nearly as uncomfortable as he would be if she'd kissed him or tried to, he looks confused.

Izzy going for his sword when this guy tries to get the drop on Stede. He either is starting to care or he knows how much Ed needs him alive.

Also, this is the other potential source of Stede's neckerchief. Mr, Knife right here has a red one and Stede doesn't have it in this scene. I do think this one is a little less distressed than the one Stede has though so it could just be coincidence.

See? No neckerchief. He DOES have a sword at his hip tho! So this, I think, is after Izzy's started training him.

Also, he actually looks really good in red lol.

Baby. He's definitely missing the ring in this shot. It sits higher than the baldric is covering. I want to give him a little kissie on his ouchie and then let him have a nap, he needs that.

The pants match the coat. Also, black shirt. Stede is kinda slaying ngl.

Still missing her head :(c. Isn't that bad luck?

Maybe yall didn't hear me properly with the Jim pic. I'll repeat:

EVERYBODY SAY 'THANK YOU DAVID JENKINS'.

I can't get over how Stede's just standing there politely with his arms behind his back lmfao.

Also, Izzy's got his right leg up, he's putting his weight on his left. . . 'foot'.

I SAID EVERYBODY SAY-

I know tits and all but also. The belly. I would like to. Bite.

*ahem*

ANYWAY. On the left (our left) side of the barrel you can see the tip of his right boot so he's def got that leg off the ground. Perhaps someone is trying to relearn their footwork? Now that they've got a different balance than they're used to? And perhaps a difference in sensory input in the leg he's standing on? Possibly?

This is the same beach Ed was on when he did the fuckin' RAD takedown of the other officer but it definitely looks like different times of day. Having both in the teaser is def meant to be a red herring. He doesn't have the neckerchief in this shot either.

Bra för honom. (Is how google translate tells me you say 'Good for him' in Swedish.)

Is Jackie's hair the same here as it is in the VF pic with Ed? Or like, similar enough to be a 'later in the day after some Fun™ messing it up a bit'?

Roach!!! Fully sleeveless now, added a belt, got some flowers tied to the strings/straps of his apron. Looks like he's having fun lighting that cannon lol. Pretty sure this is the same scene as that one leaked photo of him dancing with Fang and Izzy's green screen sock. He had the flowers in that, right?

[Ran out of allowed images, please hold]

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

can i get a scarlet/violet gang x ghost trainer reader who lets their ghost types possess them for pranks ?

This took a minute to think about until mochi mayhem dropped--then I got ideas haha

...........

During the events of Mochi Mayhem...you seemed remarkably unfazed by Pecharunt's "curse" spreading throughout the village, finding it more amusing than frightening.

And it's because you were no stranger to being possessed yourself.

Your first experience occurred after a Spiritomb's soul got separated and found you as a temporary host while you were exploring some ruins in Paldea (with your poor Fuecoco at the time being terrified for you).

Fortunately it wasn't an aggressive one, just a scared lonely spirit that was piloting your body around until it was reunited with the other 107 souls of that Spiritomb....which turned out to be a shiny!

In a show of gratitude, it decided to join your team--and soon you found your true calling as a ghost type trainer.

So you've picked up other ghosts throughout your journeys in Paldea, Kitakami, and BB Academy.

At some point you trusted your main team enough to allow them to possess your body.

Initially, they only did if they believed it was necessary (ie saving you from a fall or sudden Pokémon attack).

But then you decide to let them do so for pranks and such--mainly reserving those for whoever bothered your friends, while other times your friends are the hapless victims.

Exhibit A: When a BB Academy student is harassing Kieran over how he used to act, you see him getting upset and have one of your Shiny Spiritomb's souls possess you, enabling you to creep up and stare at the bully--all behind his back without him ever noticing you.

He's confused when they suddenly look terrified and run away....and then he slowly turns around, screaming a bit upon seeing your face in the likeness of a Spiritomb (like in that one episode of Journeys where Ash gets possessed by one).

You feel bad, especially after the soul leaves your body, and you promise that you'll never do that again.

Although he is grateful you saved him from that intense moment.

Exhibit B: You're hanging out with Penny at your house, watching her play some horror game on your console.

Your Gengar gets the mischievous idea to turn the lights off and possess you, creating a creepy atmosphere all around the house, making your friend paranoid of whether the sounds were coming from the game or elsewhere.

In hindsight, it sounds hilarious..but you forgot Penny doesn't fw horror movie tropes like that.

As she commands Umbreon to attack you out of pure instinct-

Only to see you and Gengar get forcibly separated and hit the ground hard.

Knock Off was no joke.

She apologizes but is a bit annoyed bc she couldn't save her progress thanks to your "prank".

Exhibit C: While Arven is giving Nemona, Penny, Kieran, and Carmine lessons on the art of sandwich crafting, you stroll over with some purple mochi, offering it as a dessert.

Obviously they decline, seeing Pecharunt literally hovering beside you and wondering if you already forgot what happened.....and are horrified when you shrug and eat one, your eyes turning purple.

Yet before anyone can fully freak out, you just laugh and start talking normally.

To make a long story short, you and the mythical 'mon came to an agreement that you'll eat the mochi it provides as long as it doesn't make you do anything harmful (like battling) or anything ridiculous (like dancing and saying "mochi" nonstop) while possessing you.

It's still mischievous at heart, of course. You'll allow it to have a little bit of fun considering its troubling past.

Exhibit D: Your Skeledirge was the first 'mon you used the Synchro Machine on after arriving to BB Academy, walking around and battling wild Pokémon in the terarium for a few good hours.

This "reverse possession", however, left some adverse effects on you even after desynchronizing...as for several days you developed a habit for singing, could taste smoke in your breath, and even your partner's little fire bird companion decided that it wanted to nestle atop your head.

You realize what a funny prank this could be.

So you pull up to the cafeteria to the "date" Drayton invited you to and freak out the rest of the Elite Four (except for Crispin who immediately realizes you own a Skeledirge and thinks you're awesome).

That also makes for a rather...awkward reunion with Kieran who thinks you've seriously gone off the deep end, and you drop the act right away.

But he's too caught up in the idea of battling you and winning to care about why tf you're possessed rn.

[kitkatscabinet]

Whumptober - 07: Drugged

John Mactavish x f! reader

A/N: For @bunnyreaper here's the whump version, sorry it took so long, hope you like it <3

Soap knows that something’s wrong the moment you call him. You drunk calling him wasn’t exactly out of the norm, in fact, it was weird if you didn’t spam him with texts and tik toks letting him know how much you loved him. 

His team often sledged him jokingly for how whipped he was for you, but it was that adoration and care that let him know within seconds that you weren’t okay. There was no excited shout of his name, no blaring music that you were drunkenly singing along to and none of your friends were yelling at him for interrupting girl's night. 

There’s just silence, a terribly concerning silence only accentuated by the shuffling of clothes and shuddering breaths. He’s on his feet and crashing into the wall on his quest for the keys in three seconds flat. His shoes aren’t even on properly and he’s already in the car when he finally gets a response to his barrage of questions. 

“Johnny?” Your voice is slurred and confused in a way that has his blood freezing. You very rarely got so sloshed you couldn’t function anymore but Soap knew what you were like even then, and this was not it. 

When the phone connects to the car's Bluetooth he’s throwing his phone into the passenger seat and reversing so quickly the tyres screech in protest. He knows where you are, you were always good at updating him if you moved venues but it doesn’t stop him from double-checking. 

He has to ask the question three times before you eventually confirm that you haven’t gone anywhere, his heart rate increasing frantically with each second that passes and he’s not by your side yet. 

“Johnny? Wh’re you? I think somethin’s wrong. Don’t feel so good.” Your whimpers fill the car and Soap starts to drive even faster, blowing through two red lights and a stop sign with little concern over the inevitable tickets and demerits he’ll get. 

“I know baby. Am almost there, just hold on a little longer.” He commanded as firmly and gently as possible. “Ye in the bathroom? Locked the door?” 

Once again it takes a while for you to understand and respond to his question but when you do he allows himself to relax a little. He tries to ascertain where your friend has gone and not for the first time he wants to kill her when you tell him you have no idea where she’s gone. 

“Johnny?” you call for him a few more times as if forgetting you’ve already gotten on the line.

He throws the car into park when he arrives, not bothering with the handbrake and not caring that he’s just stopped in the middle of the road. Cars are honking and people are yelling but he doesn’t give a single fuck, his mind is on a one-track mission. 

He’s even left his phone on the seat in his haste and the door open. Undoubtedly, you’ll yell at him when he relays the details later but he’s willing to cop all of your anger if it means he gets to you in time. 

He runs past the bouncer, outpacing the shouting man and ducking past various security members as he beelines towards the bathroom. Vaguely he recognises that he’s being chased but it doesn’t matter because he makes it to the ladies' bathroom well before they catch up.

It doesn’t even register that the bathroom door isn’t locked like you’d said it was when he bursts into the grimy space because his attention and fury are quickly dragged elsewhere. Namely to the motherfucker that was sticking his hand down your pants as you sobbed and tried to get away with your body’s sluggish movement. 

He’s letting out a furious roar and when the man turns with wide eyes at the commotion behind him Johnny’s fist smacks into his nose with a sickening crack that sends him stumbling backwards bleeding and onto the tile floor. 

It’s only the fact that your legs give out without someone supporting you that stops him from beating the man to death as he grabs you and pulls you against him. 

You’re so out of it that you protest, pushing against his chest as you cry because you don’t recognise him straight away. 

It takes a bit of cajoling and pressing soft kisses into your hairline before you recognise him but when you do you completely devolve into a crying, sobbing mess, collapsing against him even further as you finally allow yourself to feel all of the overwhelming panic you’d been trying to hold off. 

Security’s caught up and the commotion they make as they barge into the bathroom sets you off even further and Soap simply shoots them a heated glare before shouldering past them with you safe in his arms. 

Perhaps miraculously, both the car and his phone are still where he’d left him and Johnny gently deposits you in the passenger seat, clipping your seatbelt in. His heart shatters a little further when you start to beg him not to leave you. 

“M not leaving ye bonnie, just need to get myself strapped in.”

“Promise?” you sound so small and Soap is now certain that once you’re safe and looked after he’d going to hunt down the scumbag that dared lay a finger on you. For now though, 

“I promise love.” When he slips into the driver's seat you’re reaching blearily for his hand immediately and he takes it just as quickly, pulling away and driving far slower than he’d gone to get to you. 

“I promise.” The words are so soft that they’re more for himself than you. They’re an oath that he’ll keep even if it kills him.

[s4toryuu]

12:37 am — gojo satoru; sashisu

gojo satoru refuses to drink his medicine…

reblog to help gojo get better

out of everything you could call satoru, you think dramatic takes the top spot. so when you wake up in the middle of the night, you listen out for what could possibly have waken you up.

“koff! koff! UGH!” you recognized gojo’s voice from the dorm building behind yours.

oh my fucking god. you sighed. that morning, that idiot had to get sent to his dorm because he kept coughing every time yaga spoke. he sneezed and sniffled, so you assumed that he was actually ill and didn’t just decide to up his antics for no reason. besides, he was a little quieter than usual today.

you got up to put on a jacket and practically stomped to gojo’s dorm, where you were met with his open door and geto standing against the door frame.

“satoru, I told you the medicine wouldn’t be as effective later on.” geto sighed. you noticed his socks. they were pastel with characters on them. you ignored it to yell at who probably gave it to him.

“gojo! if you’re gonna cough just cough! you don’t have to yell after!” you said before sliding one of gojo’s slippers. there that idiot was, laying down faced up with arms stiff on his side and his comforter raised up to his chin. “are you playing dead?”

gojo groaned. “guys.” he sniffled. “I think this is it for me. suguru, I always loved you. y/n, I did steal your marshmallows last movie night. shoko—where’s shoko?” he looked up, illness suddenly voided for a second until shoko appears behind you. her dorm is a couple doors from yours after all. the snow-haired drama queen’s head fell back on his pillow and his sickness returned.

“eh, what?” she muttered to him before stepping inside. gojo started coughing again.

“are you contagious?” you asked before shifting away from gojo’s bed. geto took the medicine he got from gojo’s counter and placed it on the latter’s nightstand.

shoko walked over and sat on his bed. she placed her hand on gojo’s forehead before snickering. “you’re burning up. you really are gonna die.” she laughed.

you all chuckled, except gojo who whined again. “can’t you use reverse cursed technique on me shoookooo…”

“nope. I’ve only done it on physical injuries. why won’t you just drink the medicine?” she took the plastic little spoon and wiggled it to gojo’s face for emphasis.

gojo screwed his eyes shut and shook his head like a child. “don’t wanna.” if it wasn’t 12:37am on a school night you might’ve found it adorable.

“you might really die, satoru.” geto shot from the foot of gojo’s bed. he definitely woke up from his coughing and subsequent yelling, seeing as geto’s room is right next to gojo’s.

the next morning after your first class, the three of you gathered in the cafeteria and geto stirred up a plan.

“he’s probably not drinking it because he thinks it’s bitter.” you conclude.

suguru sipped on his tea. “ah, I know. that’s why I got the honey flavor version.”

“how are we gonna force him to drink it? it’s not like we can force feed it to him.” shoko shook her lollipop. you were just glad it wasn’t a cigarette.

“he’ll just turn on his infinity. I think we have to ambush him.” you laughed at the image.

“geto, summon a cursed spirit to hold him down.” shoko joked.

the cold breeze practically slapped you while walking to the dorms. geto was sure your victim was still asleep. he had the spare key when you thought to take off your shoes for maximum stealth. the two followed.

geto stood in front of the door to block the light while you and shoko slithered in. it was dark except for the nightlight by satoru’s night stand. you could make out the important things. the untouched medicine, and gojo sprawled over his bed under his sheets. he faced the left side cuddling a pillow. tissues filled the trash can dragged by his bed and some on the floor. poor kid.

geto tiptoed to the other side of the bed where satoru was faced while shoko prepared the poison. you got in position across geto and stifled a laugh at shoko trying to break the seal as quiet as possible. she tiptoed next to you and nodded to geto.

“satoru” geto called out. “satoru, wake up.”

“sugu…” gojo whined. he didn’t open his eyes. geto gestured for the syrup-filled spoon. shoko handed it to him promptly and again, you stifled a laugh at your plan.

“satoru-kun. aaah,” geto opened his mouth. geto using “-kun” was too funny.

surprisingly, satoru opened his mouth slightly too. what the hell? this wasn’t even part of the plan. suguru took the spoon to satoru’s mouth.

shit, it would probably just spill out with the way he was faced, you realized. you lunged to push satoru’s shoulder to the right so that he would face up. you decided him choking on it was better than it spilling. because that way it would at least get in his mouth.

gojo woke up. he made eye contact with you and immediately tried to get up. he moved his hand to push yours off but you held his shoulders down with your weight and geto got all the syrup in.

“MMGHFHG!” gojo yelled with his mouth closed. he struggled against you, and you gave it 5 seconds before his strength took over and even less before he activated infinity.

“geto!” you called and he took over your hold on sicko’s shoulders.

gojo started kicking, and you straddled his shins.

“swallow!” geto exclaimed as gojo tried to push his hands off. shit, this wouldn’t work.

“geto! get on!” you yelled and geto straddled gojo’s stomach.

“swallow it!” suguru grabbed gojo’s arms and held them against the bed by his head.

“HHNGNGGHH!” satoru shook his head.

“satoru! it’s honey flavored!” geto argued.

shoko laughed and you heard her camera shutter. she stood far enough to snap a picture and you realized what it looked like. you were straddling gojo’s calves while suguru was straddling gojo’s, uh… lower stomach with his hands pinned by his head.

then, as if on queue, the door opened. your heads snapped to the door and you saw your sweet (to you, at least) junior nanami for about .7 seconds before the door closed again.

you flew off of gojo’s calves. “nanami! wait!”

this ended with a lot more stsg than I thought lol

[writingforatwistedworld]

How would riddle, malleus and epel react to the overseer personally knowing their family their family was not aware they were the overseer (for malleus and epel the overseer met their grannys and for riddle they know his mom)

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, obsession, kidnapping, religion, cult, unhealthy relationship, threats, blood, imprisonment

Riddle Rosehearts/Epel Felmier/Malleus Draconia-Player knows one of their family members

Riddles mother

It was once more time for a holiday

NRC was prepared to host a few attractions and to have family members visit for a day or two

Riddle was warned by a letter from his mother that she was coming

So the day was here. The celebration was in full swing. And look at that, it's the mother of a certain redhead. Noo-I mean, yay...

Riddle was prepared for another scolding for something he “did wrong” but after greeting her son (in a way too stiff manner) she turned to you and... greeted you as well?

You see, little, helpful you had promised the former red tyrant to help his dorm with their celebration so you were also present when the madam came over

“Mother, why do you know the Overseer?” “What are you talking about, Riddle?”

Apparently, Trey had once invited you to meet his family after you showed interest in his siblings and the bakery. In the Queendom you had gone on a walk in the forest, slipped and twisted your ankle so badly that you couldn't walk anymore. Luckily Riddles mother came by (for some reason) and helped you, being a doctor and all

Now, lady is of course no idiot so after her son had asked her that question she was just a new addition to the garden as a statue

Riddle was terrified that you saw the polite yet also arrogant way his mother spoke to you in the past as something rude

Now, you were of course not the biggest fan of her but at least she healed you back then

Once you are gone, running off to Pomefiore to help over there, Riddle had a talk with his mother

Usually he would show her respect but today it was like the roles were reversed

Kind words and any kind of love he had left for her were thrown out of the window when he asked her “how she could have not recognized their uncrowned ruler?”

Riddle was this close to snapping and using his special magic on her

For the first time Riddles mother was afraid of her son

Never before had she seen him so angry

But oh well, better stay in line and be nice to you instead of finding out how far she could push his boundaries

It was almost like he wouldn't just chop her head off in a metaphorical sense with his special magic but rather literally in a much, much more bloody way

Epels Grandmother

Ah yes, Epels sweet sweet granny could of course not miss her beloved grandson

She even prepared some cake and other delicious treats for him. How sweet!

So when perfection themselves, the Overseer, suddenly marched over after they spotted a familiar mop of light lilac hair he nearly had a heart attack

But instead of his Granny being surprised she just said a nice hello, that it was good to see you again and how things had been since you had seen each other

Why did his granny know the Overseer? Why did his granny know God?

Now Epel couldn't of course ask that later part, considering that his villages view on you was in comparison rather... yeah let's call it “extreme”

Turns out he had forgotten something when he visited Harveston the last time and you brought it to him, only for you to meet his Grandmother before you ran into him. Giving her what he forgot the two of you had a nice little talk before you left

And this is the point when Epel felt like he was ready to bash his head against the wall

Vil must have noticed a short in Epels mood because the model just threw him a very poisonous look

So here Eprl was, standing like a lost little child between his Granny and f-ing God whilst the two of you had a nice little chat about the weather

When you finally said goodbye to the two, running off to Diasomnia because you were invited for tea, Epel was juts like “Granny, we need to talk.”

Say goodbye to your apple-free days because after that talk, there will be boxes of so-called “offerings” in front of your door. Every. Single. Day.

“Granny, don't be too shocked but you met God.” “Hoho, what are you talking about?” “...” “Oh...”

For the rest of the day her legs were so shaky that Epel was afraid for her health

I mean, come on, the very person who has drilled tales about a deity into your head finally meeting said deity is something that is guaranteed to have a way too high blood pressure

The next time you run into her she isn't entirely sweet anymore

Of course she is still nice but there is something creepy about her. The way her eyes drill into you, how her questions are always a tad bit too personal

And did she just utter a prayer with your name in it? Nah, must be your imagination

Malleus Grandmoter

How she didn't recognize you the first time you two met is a wonder considering that she has that sixth sense every Fae has that tingles even when you are being simply mentioned

But today is a great day, Malleus grandmother came over to visit her grandson, a rare day of rest for her

Maleus was just about to tell her that he had invited a guest when you showed up

So when he stood up to introduce you to her she was just like “Oh, the child of man I met that one day.”

Cue Malleus standing there like a plank

Poor man is so surprised that he can't even ask how the heck you two met each other

When he finally asked when you two met he found out that he had forgotten to send a letter of his so you had jumped through one of the mirrors and delivered it to the castle yourself

After almost getting impaled for jumping right into a heavily guarded castle you had explained yourself and boom, you had a fife minute talk with grandma Draconia

Ok, great, wonderful, but did she know that you were the Overseer?

When he told her who you were she had to set down her teacup, shock sinking into her bones

Following his words you asked what he meant with Overseer

This was the day Diasomnia saw their dorm leader drop a teacup

Like with Epel you are now more or less in trouble

I mean, yeah, it's nice to get literal national treasures sent to your doorstep but at the same time, what the heck??!

Back in the Valley of Thorns the Fae are panicking left and right

What do you mean, the Overseer has already visited us once? And we pointed all kind of sharp tools at them??!

It wouldn't be much of a surprise if you just woke up one day in a room that you had never seen before, living like a bird in a golden cage

You know, the next ruler has taken a liking to you and your loyal followers need to protect you

So sit still and don't try to run

[ddejavvu]

getting in early for mvm otherwise I’ll forget again 😂

could you do something where eddie munson is dating a clumsy reader, and he’s forever finding new bruises on her and kissing them better?

mvm is on a temporary hiatus because of my schoolwork but also this isn't an au so you don't have to worry about mvm !!

--

Eddie isn't used to undressing you with this level of chastity, but you're sleepy and drunk so it's business, not pleasure. He slips your top off of your torso, using its stretchy straps to slip it out from under your bum rather than trying to wrestle it over your head. It's currently weighing down his pillow, and he doesn't want to lift it and disturb the haze you've fallen into. He takes your shorts off with the top and scavenges through his dresser to find your favorite pair of his old gym shorts, the ones with the stretchy elastic that make them a perfect fit on you regardless of the size.

He retrieves a shirt for you as well, turning to take your left foot into his hand. He prompts you, 'Leg up, babe.' but notices a dark-colored splotch against the side of your knee that he hadn't seen in the low light that you'd been hanging out in before now.

"What's that?" He pokes at it, gently of course, but just enough so that you feel it. You whine at the feeling, letting him lift your leg off of the bed to threat it through the hole in his shorts.

"Bruise." You offer helpfully, and he snickers.

"I know that, I'm asking where you got it from."

"I dunno," You shrug, liquor lacing your words, "Pro'lly from bumping into the counter yesterday."

"You've gotta be more careful," He chides, bending down to kiss the marks softly, but he doesn't mean his scolding, he just doesn't know what else to say. You are careful, but you're clumsy by nature, and no amount of care can reverse that. If you try hard not to bump into something you'll trip over a different obstacle, but he feels restless not wishing you could be free of your constant bumps and bruises.

A strand of his hair tickles the bare expanse of your thigh and it raises a giggle from you, one that you jerk with and expose another bruise just above the small of your back.

"Babe!" Eddie gawps, wrestling your other leg into the shorts and hiking them up under your butt, "There's one on your back, too. Does it hurt?"

"No," You hum, slumping forwards in his arms when he pulls you upright to slide his shirt over your head. Your face rests against his tummy and he rubs a hand down your bare back as the shirt falls over it, chasing his touch and shrouding you in fabric that smells exactly like him.

"Lay down," He whispers, gently nudging you back onto the pillows. You fall easily and his hand behind your back stops you from hitting your head too hard against the pillow, your limbs loose and languid after liquor.

"G'night, clumsy," Eddie murmurs as he leans in to kiss a barely-there, faded bruise against your temple. You'd gotten that one from getting out of his car; you'd smacked your face right against the headrest. You blink sleepily at him but don't offer up any response, only the serenity so clearly written on your face as you sink into his mattress. "Try not to fall off the bed," He grins at you, nudging his nose against your cheek as your eyes drift shut, "You're not allowed to get any more bruises tonight."

[fuckyeahisawthat]

on switching places

So I’m sure you have noticed that during the whole end of episode 6 there is this beautiful bright light coming in the bookshop windows. From the east. Because it’s morning.

(Even if we didn’t know what time of day it was, we know what direction the light is coming from, because these windows are right above Aziraphale’s desk, which faces east.)

And after Crowley leaves the bookshop, he goes across the street, and Aziraphale keeps glancing toward the door and window, looking over at Crowley, hoping he’ll come back. (He always comes back.) The blocking in the scene with the Metatron, the one where Aziraphale almost decides to stay, is set up so that he’s looking the wrong way, toward the windows on his right instead of to his left, where Crowley should be. (And, when he seems closest to saying no, he steps back, right to the edge of that beam of light that almost seems like it’s from Crowley.) And we know that their blocking stays reversed (Crowley screen left, Aziraphale screen right) for the rest of the episode.

But also, Aziraphale is looking east. To what is normally his position, as guardian of the eastern gate.

Which got me thinking. What if they have switched places? Not literally in a bodyswap sense, but metaphorically in terms of their relationship to humanity.

They’re the serpent and the sword, right? Those Biblical symbols are already subverted in the story of Good Omens. The sword is something given to humans for their protection, not something meant to be used against them, to keep them out of paradise. (And in the world of Good Omens, leaving Eden looks a whole lot like escaping.) And the apple is framed as a positive symbol too. It’s knowledge, questions asked and answered, the ability to make your own choices. It’s freedom.

So what if they’ve switched roles, and by the end of season 2 Crowley has taken up Aziraphale’s position as the protector of humanity (as we saw him do with individual humans many times this season). We all know Crowley won’t actually be able to abandon humanity and the Earth when the chips are down. I think it’s highly likely that some part of season 3 will feature Crowley on the side of humanity against Heaven, probably in what he considers at that point to be a suicide mission, but he can’t just walk away.

And then what if, in season 3, we see Aziraphale take up whatever the equivalent of Crowley’s position would be in that plotline, as the character who grants freedom and choice to humanity in some way. (By freeing Earth from Heaven and Hell’s power? By figuring out how to give humans the choice to interact with angels and demons only if they want to? I don’t know exactly how this would play out, but it’s a fascinating idea to poke at.)

Of course I think they will ultimately end up working together and whatever happens will require their combined power, but I think it would be amazing if we saw this kind of role reversal. And it would fit with their character arcs: Crowley being the one who is ready to stand and fight even when it looks hopeless, and Aziraphale being the one who gives humanity the power to question, challenge and disobey Heaven.

Protection and freedom—those are their gifts to humanity. (The Bible might call it temptation, but there never was an apple that wasn’t worth the trouble you got into for eating it.) And it turns out that those are the exact same things Aziraphale and Crowley need for themselves. You can’t have one without the other. “Protection” without freedom is just control, and freedom without the ability to defend itself gets crushed by the forces that don’t want it to exist. And so their fates are tied to humanity, as they were from the beginning. And maybe humanity will be able to give them the same gifts in return.

[sukunas-wife]

Why was the servant girl smiling`?

I forgot to elaborate I’m Sorry 😭

But here’s a snippet of

✨Y/n’s Shrine House History✨

🤫 Read closely

Sealed Series History

First of All the Shrine was opened to Honor Y/n as a dirty, she was worshipped for being able to bare Lord Sukuna’s heir. In the shrine she’d previously used a reverse cursed technique to heal pregnant women if they sustained any non visible damage to their reproductive organs and the fetus.

Yuji was actually able to grown in y/n’s womb because while the cursed child was forming in her womb when it would take a physical toll on her body she would use a reverse curse technique to improve/stabilize her position.

It’s a bit in the Sealed series how a man heard of her legend and went all the way to Sukuna’s Palace, to try and find any trace instead finding the prison realm cube washed and worn away from the palace but not by much, freeing her his only request was that she bless his pregnant wife because she hadn’t been able to bare child before, (story line: the lady was physically abused as a child leaving bruising and damaged on her uterus y/n heals it and the child who also had minor organ issues)

Anyways~

The Shrine was originally open for all husbands and wives to enter together freely. It was a place of peace where you could find hope, to prove there was light in the dark. In this Case how a child so small and sweet can be born from a Curse. When Yuji was born, you presented him to the public in a bed for all to come admire but not touch. Everyone brought gifs to honor the “Prince of Curses” admiring his soft sleeping face. It made it hard to believe even Ryomen Sukuna was once a child.

Hints, the reason everyone (eunuchs, servants) was asking if Yuji was with Y/n?

The cursed man had entered the shrine 3/4 months after Yuji had been born. After having seen Yuji presented to the public.

This cursed man was striving to be on Par with Sukuna and when he learned Ryomen Sukuna had been given a direct blood heir by a human woman (eventually) turned curse. He decided that same woman would give him his heir. Walking into the shrine freely greeted by eunuchs and servants as he made his way to the main room. There you sat in the middle of the platform reading over a booklet of finance your hand maid had left you with while she left briefly. Hearing the sanctuary doors close you looked up and there stood 6’4 terrifying, bulky man who was in the process of becoming a curse by corrupting, twisting and breaking his own soul.

He looked down at you and the room was filled with a dark aura. It was suffocating, the man immediately reaching out for heavy breathing frothing at the mouth like a rabid dog, when he said “So you’re the woman who carried Ryomen Sukuna’s child, then you’ll do the same and honor me.”

Y/n rushed to get up and run, but what’s your height to 6’4? Not easy- luckily for you Uraume was entering the room after Sukuna sent him to get you. Froze the man in place and immediately called for Lord Sukun, Uraume tried to pull you away when in came enraged Sukuna, almost obliterating the man leaving him there laying close to death a half curse can be. There stood Sukuna bloodied standing over his body, heavy breathing and snarling, he very much tore the limbs off the man leaving him there screaming and squirming in fear. Before he could crush the man’s head in with his foot, Yuji started screaming from the next room. Both of you in panic something had happened to him or was happening you all left them man on the floor rushing to find your prince. He was fine, your handmaiden had just woken him and he lost it realizing neither of his parents were with him.

After this, Sukuna hunted this man down and couldn’t find him. He posted Sorcers/Eunuchs at your shrine and forbade any man from ever entering the doors, the only exception being Yuji.

7 Years Later

When the man had yet to return you eased up on the security a bit letting the sorcerers who stood outside on guard go. Keeping your servants/eunuchs who working inside mixed with sorcerers and non sorcerers.

One day a girl who 15ish came to work at your shrine, young Yuji didn’t trust her the few timeshe had seen her.

Why?

Because she’s a fraud and was working with Cursed man. How did he recruit a child?

He didn’t-

she was a curse user who specialized in transfigurations and became smitten with him. (She’s like 32)

Sadly he had no interest in her. He wanted Ryomen Sukuna’s wife to bare his first child. She sneaks in at “15” the years he plans his attack. Plays servant well enough to be seen as normal and she can slip him in using the private ways the servants use to get in and out unnoticed to the public eye.

Why was she smiling?

She was smiling because she was “Cursed Man’s Accomplice” and was fulfilling her role. Even if she was jealous of y/n being the woman to carry his heir. Her Lord was accomplishing his desires, maybe after she’d have entrance into his life affairs. (More specifically romantically)

Wrong- She wasn’t exactly the strongest or resistant so when she was caught off guard in Yuji’s unstable Domain Expansion and attack. In short she was killed. Sukuna took care of Cursed guy the way he should.

Don’t know what the sealed series is but found the lore?

Here’s a link to Part 1

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[m00nl1ghts1vt]

City of Love III - Matt Sturniolo

Requested by anon I II Parings - neighbor!Matt x fem!Reader Summary - Even though your confession leaves Matt uneasy, he still invites you to dinner at his place, that's only if you cook, of course. Warnings - strong language, fluff, W/c - 3208 A/n - Sorry for the wait, I was debating on continuing because part two didn't get that much love, but I really like the concept of City of Love 🥲 Not sure how many parts I'll be doing yet. Enjoy! Masterlist Top Liked - Pierced II Most Recent - Mama Request & Asks are always open

Opening the drapes, you were greeted by warm sunlight beaming through and lighting up the room. You made yourself useful this morning, going for a jog, and finishing your morning routine, even though you woke up around noon. The sequence of events from the night before made sleep almost impossible for you. You tossed and turned for a while, the image of Matt’s face engraved into your brain. Deciding to distract yourself, you stayed up late, unpacking the rest of your belongings, and blaring your go-to playlist throughout the house. The night ended with everything unpacked and you passed out on the fuzzy rug in your living room.

Not being able to shake the harsh feeling of Matt’s pained expression, going for a jog was your only escape so, that’s what you did as soon as you finished your breakfast. Little did you know, Matt and his brothers would be arriving at their house right as you’re ending your morning jog. Plastic bags wrapped around his fingers as he shuts the car door, his eyes land on you, quickly followed by his two look-a-like’s. You plaster an awkward smile on your face, waving, and jogging past them, not wanting to be held up by any more uncomfortable conversations. The AirPods in your ears and beads of sweat dripping down your face being the main indicator you weren’t up for chatting. You didn’t dare to look over your shoulder, entering your house, and heading straight for the shower. 

After opening almost every curtain in your house, letting in as much natural sunlight as possible, you go downstairs to your living room. The only tv you had was in the living room and your couches were still in shipment. You take a seat on your fuzzy rug, turn on your tv, and scroll through Netflix. Once you finally land on something that sparks your interest, your phone dings. Quickly selecting the movie and tapping your screen, you see it’s a text from Matt. 

A toothless smile pulls at your lips. Maybe Matt wasn’t thrown off by your confession like you thought he was. If roles were reversed, him telling you that he just got out of a serious relationship months prior, you would cut all ties right then and there. In all honesty, if your past relationship hadn’t ended so badly, you would still be in Seattle, in contact with him. You couldn’t blame Matt for how he felt about the recent revelation, but you certainly did blame yourself for letting it slip too soon. Something about Matt made you want more of him every time he left, and the last few nights you had been restraining yourself from walking next door to talk to him. Every conversation was light and easy-going, making you feel like you two had known each other for a lifetime. You weren’t much of a talker so feeling comfortable around him had you shook for words, leaving you wondering how much the bond meant to him. It meant the world to you. 

Even though you knew leaving Seattle was the right idea, you couldn’t help but feel homesick, missing your friends and family. Matt had a special way of making you forget about all of when he was around. You still made sure to keep in contact with your loved ones back in Seattle, nightly calls to your best friends and parenting showed them how much you really liked him. It had only been a week, and you couldn’t shut up about him

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You spend a couple hours at Target, picking up numerous things for your house, and ingredients for dinner. You decided on your classic ‘Marry Me Chicken’ - mainly because it was the first dish you were ever taught, and you had mastered it by now - you wanted to impress Matt and his brothers. First impressions were everything to you. Even if things might’ve been too far gone with Matt, you at least wanted to knock him off his feet with your cooking skills. 

Your arms stacked with plastic grocery bags; you stumble up to his front door. Struggling to get a hand up, the front door flies open, “Y/n! Matt, Y/n’s here!” One of Matt’s lookalike’s scoop bags out of your hands, you couldn’t tell if it was Nick or Chris, but you at least knew their names. You watch as he nods his head for you to follow him. Stepping into their house, you kick off your shoes out of respect even though he still has his on his feet. He yells, “Matt, get your ass in here!” just as Matt rushes around the corner, locking eyes with you. His face quickly turns a light shade of pink and a smile pulls at his lips, “hey.” 

You could’ve sworn his flustered expression was contagious by the way your face matches his almost immediately, but you try to play it off, forcing a toothless smile, "hi." 

Matt reaches for the grocery bags that are still weighing you down and his brother snorts at the interaction, “wow oh- kay.” His comment makes Matt’s face twist in embarrassment and irritation, “this is my brother, Nick.” Matt collects the rest of the groceries and sets them on the island, “the loud one.” 

“I think we’re all pretty loud Matt,” Nick shoots back sarcastically and turns his attention, “I prefer ‘the gay one’ in case you were wondering.” 

You let out a little giggle, “I’ll keep that in mind.” Making your way to the islands to help Matt unload the groceries. His gaze is stuck on you as he carelessly sets the tomatoes on the counter, only noticing they’re rolling off when it’s too late to catch them. “Matt!” you exclaim, a little too loud for your own liking, “you’re gonna bruise my tomatoes!” 

“Shit, sorry!” He quickly crouches down to pick them up before turning the knob on the sink and running them under cold water. You make your way to him, “sorry,” grabbing the tomatoes to inspect it, “a bruised tomato makes a shitty sauce.” After deciding it’s okay, you look up to see Matt’s eyes still glued on you, “I’ll be more careful next time.” 

You watch as he presses his lips in a thin line, attempting to hold back the grin that’s trying to break through. Matching his energy, you playfully furrow your eyebrows at him, “you should be. How am I gonna show off my killer cooking skills when you’re damaging the most important ingredient?” 

He cracks a smile, “you haven’t even told me what you were making yet. How am I supposed to know it’s the most important ingredient?” You let out a laugh, being able to go back and forth with him was something you loved. It’s like all the momentary awkwardness from the series of events the night before didn’t matter. It disappeared for the time being, but your intuition told you it’d be brought back up later in the night. 

“Marry me chicken,” you tell him. Matt raises an eyebrow, “it was the first recipe I learned,” you deadpan, not wanting him to get the wrong idea of the title. You didn’t make up the name for the recipe, and you had no idea if you were preparing this dinner as Matts friend or as his situationship that lives next door.

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“Okay, now the heavy cream,” you hold your hand out. Matt takes notion, handing you the carton of heavy whipping cream almost immediately., making you nod to him as a way of saying thank you. Matt had been a big help in the kitchen all night. He handed all the ingredients to you as you needed them, making small talk to keep you company while his brothers watched a movie in the living room. You step away from the stove, wiping your hands on a kitchen towel nearby, and leaning against the opposite counter from Matt. 

“So,” he stretches out, crossing his arms over his chest, “about last night.” You shift awkwardly, not wanting to bring the conversation up, but you knew it had to be done. Your intuition was dead on. At this point the topic was the elephant in the room, like a big boulder sitting in the middle of the kitchen that you and Matt had to constantly shuffle around. IYou watch as he clears his throat, his eyes darting from your lips to your eyes, “I asked too many questions.” You shake your head at him, “questions are good. I don’t mind,” you ramble like an idiot, mentally face palming yourself. Talking about your ex made you nervous, you didn’t want to say or do anything that made Matt distance himself. 

An anxious chuckle falls from his lips, “maybe I made some assumptions too soon,” he states before pinning his bottom lip between his teeth, “I really like you. I don’t want you to think I’m not into you for any reason.”

His words take you by surprise, and you open your mouth to speak, “finally being straightforward,” you poke at him. Matt being so to the point, telling you how he felt about the situation, was new. The little time you had known him, you always found yourself searching for answers without actually asking questions. Maybe it was because he was too interesting to you. He could tell you his whole life story, and you’d still want to know more. A smile creeps onto Matt’s face, “figured I’d try something new,” he jokes, keeping the same playful tone as you. The butterflies in your stomach dance and your face heats up a bright shade of red, “well I’m glad you told me 'cause I definitely thought you hated me after last night. I snapped on you, I’m sorry. I felt really bad afterwards.”

Matt scrunches his face, shaking his head, “don’t apologize. The attitude was on point,” he tells you, holding his fingers up to form an okay sign. You giggle, “you like ‘em a lil spicy, huh?” 

Matt snorts, letting a small laugh escape his lips, “only the kind of spice you have.” He lets his face contort, cringing from his own words, “sorry, that was too much,” making you burst into laughter. You double over holding your stomach, “no, that was cute - a little cheesy - but cute.” Your infectious laugh brings a bright smile too his face and he quickly joins in with you, “cheesy pick-up lines are a given with me, just to let you know.” 

“At least I’ll get a good laugh every day,” you coo back at him, running a hand through your hair before pushing yourself off the counter and approaching the stove that he’s standing next to. You stir the sauce gently and bring the spoon up to your mouth for a taste test, “yeah, I’m a chef. Let Gordon Ramsey know I’m coming for his spot!” you exclaim before taking another spoonful for Matt. Blowing on it a few times, you cup your hand under the spoon as you guide it to his lips. Matt locks his eyes on your, taking a slow slurp from the spoon. The intensity of his gaze makes you want to break eye contact and hide your face like the true shy girl you are, but his piercing blue orbs are too strong to let you look away, keeping you in a trance as your face lights up and goosebumps form on your arms. 

Your eyes widen a bit, but you quickly try to play it off, relaxing your face as you pull the spoon away. “Wow, that’s really good. Somebody needs to put you on top chef,” he jokes, clearly not picking up on the effect he had on you. Lust swirls around in your gut, making the words struggle to get out of your throat, “th-that good?” 

“Oh yea,” he confirms before plastering a kool aid like smile across his lips. “I’m really impressed. You're gonna have to cook for me more often,” he tells you, inching so close that you can feel his body heat radiating off you. It was clear by now Matt had a certain effect on you that nobody has ever had before. Little things like Matt holding eye contact or forcing proximity between you two made you wonder if he knew about the butterflies he placed in your stomach every time he spoke to you or accidentally brushed his arm against yours. You felt like a seventh grade girl obsessing over her first crush, except you were a grown woman crushing on the boy next door. 

Matt knew exactly what he was doing. Being the gentleman he truly was, half the time he didn’t act on his impulsive behaviors. If it was up to him, he’d have you all to himself, telling you how much he really cared about you. Matt felt the same way about you as you did about him. The past relationships and random hook ups you two had weren’t anything compared to this weeklong bond you formed. As pathetic as it sounds, the connection had Matt in a chokehold and you in a death grip, not letting either of you go, and only leaving you both wanting more each time one of you pull away.

After last night, he went home and talked to his brothers about you just like he had been doing every night since the first interaction. Matt was worried something fierce about you exposing the fact you were four months fresh from a three year long relationship. He feared your ex was still in the picture, that he would text you any moment and you’d be on your way back to Seattle. Nick and Chris feeding him comments along the lines of - “so what, man? Go get some ass. You haven’t been laid in months, it’s starting to scare me,” and “you barely even know the girl. Stop worrying about her ex,” but when his bothered expression didn’t budge from his face, his brothers quickly took notice, “holy shit! You like her?!” Chris teases him immediately and Nick balances it out by saying, “leave him alone, Chris. He barely likes anyone.”

If Matt was being completely honest, he was just waiting for the moment that provided the right space and opportunity to tell you - and show you - how he really felt. When you passed by him on your morning jog, he could feel the vibes were off. Unknowingly being in tune to your energy already, negativity was practically oozing out of you, and Matt took notice right away. The torn expression on your face mixed with beads of sweat dripping from your brow, Matt felt horrible for how he reacted the night before. He had to come up with a plan to get you in the same room as him again, and once he remembered how much you loved to cook, he decided to test the waters. Luckily for him, it was working out perfectly. 

“Just have to drain the pasta,” you announce before covering your hands in oven mitts and picking up the pot full of boiling hot penne noodles. Carefully taking a step back, your body comes to a halt as you crash into Matt, who didn’t take cue that you were moving with caution. The hot water splashes, coating your oven mitts, and you jut your body outward, hissing from the contact. Mentally praising yourself for using the mitts, your hands would be covered in burns if you hadn’t.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Matt blurts out before taking the hot pot from you, not caring if it was too hot to touch, and carelessly setting it on the counter. He quickly turns his attention back to you, pulling off the oven mitts, and inspecting your hands. “Are you okay? Sorry, I was just looking at you, wasn’t paying attention. It didn’t get you, did it?” he rambles, taking your hands and turning them every which way to make sure there were no visible burns. 

“No, no, I’m fine. Those are some thick oven mitts,” you joke trying to ease his panic. You thought it was cute how much the idea of you being hurt put him in a frenzy. “Are you sure?” his words laced with concern, and a worried look etched across his face, as he continues to inspect you. The warmth of his hands makes you suck in a sharp breath, nodding slowly, “promise.” 

Matt finally looks up at you, his eyes glancing towards your lips. He takes a step back, swallowing hard like he’s physically holding himself back from his next action. You watch as he leans over the stove, flipping the burner off you had thoughtlessly left on before taking a step closer to you. His hands snake around your waist, pulling you to him. The way your bodies fit together like two missing puzzle pieces makes a familiar weakness buckle at your knees. “I feel so bad,” he confesses. Matt sways side to side, gently rocking you with him as he plants a kiss on your forehead, “I’m really sorry.” 

You pull back from him slightly, only so you can show him your hands, “no burns. I’m all good,” you tell him honestly. The worriment still plastered on his face as you wrap your arms around his neck, gently rubbing a thumb along the nape of his neck. “You’re sure?” he presses his lips in a thin line, trying to fight off a smile that was pulling at his lips. Playfully furrowing your eyebrows at him, “only if you promise I walk out of here in one piece.” 

As much as Matt wanted to take you to his bedroom and leave you crawling out of his house, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. No promises. “Promise,” he lets his smile break through and yours follows soon after.

Matt lets his eyes explore, drifting from your eyes to your lips, and back up to your eyes again. You were fascinated by the meaning his held, they locked you in every time. His eyes were so blue, you felt like you were drowning every time he looked at you. You and Matt stay lost in time for a few seconds before you make your move, tiptoeing to press your lips to his. Not like other times when Matt would pull away rather quickly, letting his nerves get the best of him. Instead, he digs his fingers into your waist, pulling you so close that your body is pressed against his. He trails a hand up your arm until he's cupping the back of your neck, walking you backwards, the only thing to stop you is the edge of the countertop protruding into your back. 

The built up sexual tension has your tongues dancing together like two ballroom characters from a Disney movie. In a way, this was your real-life version of Beauty and The Beast - pressed up against Matt’s counter as his hands explored your body and his tongue inspected every inch of your mouth. You didn't know where you and Matt stood, you didn't know the title of your relationship you shared with him, but you knew you enjoyed every second spent with him and you didn't want it to end anytime soon.

🏷️ - @lvrsturniolo @unknvhx @m11rx @ribread03 @emely9274 @thepubeburgler @loveparqdise @frickin-bats @sweetshuga (If I'm missing anyone or if anyone wants added, just let me know! Also pls remember to turn your tags on if they aren't already!)