#anyways. being a freak is the most normal thing in the world

[jasperyourmutt]

Therapy working so well that everytime I think something bad about myself I just see my therapist wagging her finger saying “nuh uh uh”

[the-bluestreak-cat]

My extremely personal red flag is if you’ve never lived independently.

Do not open tags it’s just a personal vent and I hit the tag limit (30) and that’s never happened to me before ajskdlf

[jewishrat420]

No one has ever flirted with Steve the way Eddie flirts with Steve.

And it's not like no one flirts with Steve. God, no, it's not like no one flirts with Steve. Steve can't walk into the grocery store without at least three sets of heads turning and focusing all their attention on him.

And he's not even trying to be cocky about it. That's just the reality he was gifted when he came out of his mother's womb looking like the world's freshest Adonis. Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if they changed the colloquialism to "Steve."

Regardless. For as many people like to flirt with him, make themselves known, filtering in and out of his orbit like willing planets, no one knows quite how to get him going like Eddie. Maybe it's that they're not as confident as he is, maybe they're scared of the rejection Eddie was born facing and will die knowing.

Maybe they're scared of ruining their chances. Maybe Eddie isn't.

For whatever reason, Eddie doesn't seem like he's scared. Even though there was a long time before he knew Steve was bi, was just as into the flirting as Eddie was, even though there was a chance (not like it'd ever happen, but the unknown was there) that Steve could have beaten him up just for calling him "sweetheart," he did it anyway. He got right up into Steve's space, close enough that Steve could get high off the remnants of the joint he'd smoked earlier, and gave him a look that offered everything.

And, God, Steve wanted it. He wanted it all.

And so that began months of what Steve has so aptly referred to as torture. Apt, because he knows what it's like. He has the scars and the fear of ice cream and needles to prove it.

But this... this is a different kind of torture. Mental, emotional, spiritual, whatever you call it-- this is meant to tear him apart from the inside out, meant to make him want to rip his own bones out from his body and offer them to Eddie if it meant the other man making a fucking move.

And Steve would, is the thing. He would absolutely make the first move-- it's what he usually does, anyway, and he's got a pretty damn good success rate for it.

But, for whatever reason, this feels different. This back and forth they have, the constant teasing, the sliding in and out of each other's orbits, unable and unwilling to refute the most fundamental laws of gravity... it's something special, at least to Steve. Something sacred.

Which is why, when Eddie calls Steve "Harrington" for the first time in months, his first response is to pout.

They're about halfway through splitting a joint, the sweet smoke curling around wisps of hair and parted lips and filtering in and out of the holes in their sweaters. The air outside is getting colder, thinner, sharper, as the winter months dreg on. But inside the trailer, it's comfortable and warm. Safe.

Steve's being a bit of a hog, and he's man enough to admit that. But he had a shitty day at work and all he wants is to feel nothing other than the weightless relaxation of a good high buzzing through his bones. Sue him for taking a little more than his fair share of the good stuff, even if it is Eddie's.

"Steve," Eddie whines, reaching his hand out and curling his fingers in request. "Give it over."

"No," Steve responds, just on the edge of whiny. He brings the joint to his lips and takes a long, slow, deep drag, feeling the sweet heat of the smoke burning in his lungs, taking up the space where oxygen should be. He goes a little dizzy with it, feels his eyes lower. "Mine."

Steve can't see it, but he knows Eddie's rolling his eyes. Can sense the shift in the air, can sense every little fucking thing about Eddie at any given moment.

"C'mon, Harrington, you're being a brat."

And, normally, Steve would find another aspect of that sentence to freak out about. Would zero in on the word brat and relish in the flare of heat it sends shooting up his spine like firework sparks. Would squint his eyes at Eddie and tilt his head in the way he knows makes him look good, would give him his cutest little smirk and say, "Who, me?" and would preen in the response it gets.

This time, though, he's much too focused on the other name Eddie used for him. The one he hasn't heard come out of Eddie's mouth since before he realized that Steve was, as he put it, "actually a good dude."

He doesn't realize he's pouting until the sudden silence in the room starts to creep in, make a home in the buzzing in his ears. He didn't realize that he didn't say anything, and neither did Eddie, and now they're sitting in a mess of their own making. Of Eddie's own making, really.

His next words come out without effort, without intent.

"Don't call me that."

He chances a look over at Eddie, at the risk of appearing as vulnerable as he feels, and to his distress, he can't get a read on the man. His dark eyebrows furrow, brown eyes squinting slightly, and his lips part like he wants to speak. He licks them. Steve's eyes follow the motion unintentionally.

"Call you what?" Eddie says on an exhale. "A brat?"

Steve shakes his head. "Harrington. Don't like it when you call me that."

Eddie kind of softens, then, and Steve didn't realize he had stiffened until he isn't anymore. He sort of sinks into the couch, spreads his legs imperceptibly wider, and Steve wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for the way his left knee brushes against Steve's just barely. Just enough for those heated sparks to send a couple pinpricks across his skin.

"No?" he says, looking over to meet Steve's gaze. His cheeks are flushed, whether from the weed or the heat of the room or the heat between them, and Steve's sure that his look the same. "What do you want me to call you, then?"

Steve's definitely blushing now. He looks away from Eddie, tucks his chin to his chest, lets the joint between his fingers burn away. Eddie takes it from him, gently, and brings it to his lips. Steve hears the paper crackling as he inhales.

His voice is quiet, almost meek, when he speaks. It's completely unlike Steve, completely unlike the persona he used to so proudly take on-- but then again, Eddie is completely unlike anyone that Steve has ever met. He's more real, more human, and in turn, Steve is too.

"...You know."

Eddie makes a little noise, then, something in the back of his throat that was born and died within the very same second it was released. Something soft, almost pained, like his body couldn't help the reaction it had to that sentence.

Steve watches the thin, long line of Eddie's arm reach forward and press the joint into the glass of the ashtray. He follows the motion until Eddie's hand settles into the rips over his knee, fingers intertwining with the thread. His pinkie is dangerously close to Steve's own sweatpant-covered skin, and he feels the contact as if Eddie were touching him.

Eddie's hand twitches like it wants to move, and Steve resists the urge to grab it, hold it within the warmth of his own palms.

"Do I?" Eddie says, his voice quieter than it was a moment ago. That thick silence fills the trailer once more, settling in between the soft buzzing of the lightbulb in the kitchen and the muffled humming of the crickets outside. Steve hears Eddie take a stuttering breath. "Tell me."

Steve sighs, feeling his chest burn as his heartbeat picks up. His throat pounds with the pulsing of it. He places his own hand on his right knee, pinkie finger edging closer and closer to the space where Eddie's meets his. Eddie's hand twitches again.

"Like it when you call me sweet things," he says on an exhale, as though getting it out all in one breath would make it easier. "Like how it makes me feel."

Eddie lets out another one of those noises, then, something more like a cut-off groan. His hand curls into the fabric of his jeans for no more than a second before he releases it, and Steve gets to watch as the blood blanches and then returns to his knuckles.

"Sweet things, huh?" he muses, voice only slightly strained. If Steve didn't know any better, he'd say Eddie is nervous. "Like... Stevie?"

Steve hums. "Yeah. I like that."

Eddie's pinkie moves closer. Barely. Imperceptibly, if not for the way Steve is tuned into his every movement, like a dog to the sound of their owner's keys.

"Yeah?"

Steve hums again.

"What about... sweetheart?"

Steve closes his eyes. Lets out a shaky breath, inhales a smoother one.

"Yeah."

Steve feels something brush against his pinkie. Something warm.

"Honey?"

Steve nods, biting his lip. "Mhm."

Eddie lets out a quiet little laugh. "Even big boy?"

Steve returns it helplessly, feels the edges of a smile pulling at his lips. The air feels cold on his teeth, as though he's burning up from the inside out and anything outside of his own body is a cooling salve.

"Especially big boy."

Eddie laughs a little louder, and the jostling of his body brings his pinkie even closer to Steve's. Completely pressed against his own, now.

Steve swears he can feel his heartbeat through it. Or maybe it's his own.

"What about..." Eddie takes a breath. "Love?"

Steve's own breath hitches. He opens his eyes, looks at where their skin is touching in more than one place. He feels it, feels every point of contact where the cells that make Eddie are existing with the cells that make Steve. Wonders, maybe, if they stay here long enough, if they'll merge and mold over time. Become one.

"Yeah," Steve breathes. "I like that one a lot."

Eddie hums, and the room falls back into silence for a moment. Steve's skin burns where their fingers are touching. He moves his hand to the right, just barely, just enough to let Eddie know that he feels it. Just enough to ask Eddie if he does, too.

His response is overwhelming.

Eddie moves his hand to the left, solidifies all the points of contact between them, and Steve feels like he's exploding. Feels like a bubbling pit of lava that's set to burst, to overflow, like it can't hold back anymore. Like it's tried for so long that it's hurting, now, pressurized and boiling and hot, way too fucking hot.

And then, Eddie crosses his pinkie over Steve's, and Steve thinks he's dying.

He takes in a sharp breath like it's the last one he'll ever get, and he doesn't even have it in him to be embarrassed about it. He knows Eddie is right there with him, knows he's not the only one feeling this irrefutable pull like gravity between them. Knows, hopes, it's only a matter of time before they collide.

Eddie hums again. He taps his pinkie once over the smallest of Steve's knuckles, almost like he's making a decision. He takes a long, slow breath before he speaks.

"You know which one's my favorite?"

Steve's throat clicks. "Which?"

"Look at me."

Steve turns his head to the right for no more than a second before Eddie's lips are on his.

It's hungry, it's indulgent, it's immediately addictive. It feels like breathing.

Eddie presses his whole body against Steve's, and he can feel the way his tendons flex where his hand is covering the back of Steve's. Where their pinkies meet, their fingers intertwine and cross over one another like the roots of a tree, their bodies the whole mycorrhizal network.

The next word is spoken against Steve's lips, and Steve can feel the way his mouth forms around it. Decides, from this moment on, that he never wants to hear it another way.

"Baby."

Steve's exhale is more of a moan, a dying sound that, like Eddie's before, lived for only a moment in his throat before pushing through the wall of his lips. Eddie takes it, holds it in his own mouth, swallows it down hungrily and slides his tongue against Steve's as though asking for more.

"That's--" Steve pants, getting his hands on Eddie's hips and pulling until he's seated in his lap. "Mine too."

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, his lips still pressed against Steve's. Their words are muffled against each other, but they don't need to hear them to understand. They only need to feel the outline of them, the shape of the consonants and vowels against and around each other's tongues. They only need to press their bodies together and know, intimately, the meaning in each other's hearts.

"Yeah. Want you to call me that forever."

This time, Steve feels Eddie's laughter against his lips. His chest. Feels it bubble up in the space between his ribs, feels it flow into his mouth like a river, swallows it down like the first glass of water after a run. Feels his own creep up behind his teeth in return, gives it back to Eddie like an offering, who takes it greedily. Hungrily. Gratefully.

"Think that can be arranged, baby."

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

could u pls write a fic about a plus sized reader noticing Spencer doesnt look at her alot so one morning she wears lingerie and a see through robe and she teases him until he just takes her on the couch?

༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

— pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader

— summary: listen, it wasn't that you didn't love the domestic life with spencer, but god, you just really missed being touched (and penelope has a solution).

— warnings: uhh this is almost 3k of pwp firstly, penelope being the best wingwoman to ever exist, lingerie, teasing, unprotected sex, couch sex, vaginal sex, sub!spencer reid, dom!reader, kind of switch spencer and reader at the end, riding, heavy petting, subspace if you squint, mentions of oral sex (m and f rec), the reader is lowkey a freak (and penelope instigates it), clothed sex, the reader is dressed and spencer isn't, i held myself back from including a mommy kink, but that's the best you're getting from me, a lack of foreplay (be considerate folks), consent kink, praise kink.

— wc: 2817

⋆ a/n: HEY SO i really let this get away from me in the sense of this was meant to kind of be dom!spencer but i blinked and all of a 2k was written of sub!spencer so yikes!! but i really enjoyed writing this, it's been literally forever since i've written pwp so... here ya go!! i'm trying to be more organized with uploading because i really want to clear out my drafts before starting any new projects.

masterlist | AO3

“Pen, have you ever seen those TikToks where it’s like ‘he has a whole woman in his bed yet he’s playing World of Warcraft’ or some shit like that?” You ask the phone that’s tucked under your chin.

You’re in the middle of putting up laundry, but a feeling of unrest bubbled beneath your skin.

Penelope laughs, “And let me guess, that’s how you feel right now?” 

You sigh, looking down at the shirt that refuses to turn inside out. You throw it back in the hamper with a huff before grabbing a pair of – Spencer’s – jeans.

“I just – I’m not with Spencer for just sex, you know that, but it’s been like… forever since I’ve gotten any.” You can’t even listen to yourself talk.

“We’ve been in this like… domestic bliss stage, and while I love waking up to breakfast in bed and giggly showers, I’m horny and every time he does something so normal – something that shouldn’t even be considered sexy – I have to hold myself back from jumping his bones.” 

Penelope lets out a rather unattractive chortle, but she continues. “Listen sister, while I love the Boy Genius as much as the next person, he’s kinda dense. With all those brains, he’s rather hard-headed when it comes to romance.”

“I know, I know, and those are one of the reasons why I love him! The denseness is cute, but I’m starting to think I sabotaged myself.” You look down longingly at the MIT t-shirt. Spencer was away at the office right now, so that means whatever conversation you were having with the colorful woman on the other end was completely inappropriate.

“You know what I think?” She starts. “Oh God.” You sigh fondly. “Oh, hush! Don’t even act like my ideas aren’t good! Anyway… If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being quite the seductress myself, is that at the end of the day a man is a man, and they can be reduced down to their most primal instincts.”

“What are you saying?” You inquire curiously with furrowed eyebrows. “I’m saying that you gotta work with what ya mama gave ya! Men are dumb, they see a tit or a nice ass and they lose all cognitive function. So what I’m saying is to put on some lingerie and act like a little minx! Guys love it when you tease them and act like you don’t know what you’re doing! It’s about the chase, my fellow curvaceous protege.”

“So you’re saying to… seduce him?”  

“That’s exactly what I’m saying – Oh! Good morning sir! Yes, sorry, I’ll call you back when I’ve got the answer to what you need… yes okay bye-bye!” And with that, you’re left listening to the silence. 

You laugh, shaking your head in exasperation before taking a seat on the bed.

Seduce him, huh? The notion almost seems ridiculous, but it really isn’t that far fetched. You’ve had sex with Spencer before, you know how his brain works, what gets him needy and what parts of you turn him on. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea.

You don’t really own any lingerie, because for one, the material that’s supposedly the back of your underwear gets swallowed by your ass, and two, Spencer’s never complained about your granny panties. But hey, it doesn’t hurt to look right?

Okay, seduce Spencer Reid is a go.

Taking one last scrutinizing look in the bathroom mirror, you leave quietly, walking into the kitchen and pouring yourself a glass of coffee. Liquid courage as they say.

The light pink sheer robe hangs off of your ample form, the fuzz on the edge of your sleeves getting in your way and irritating you. God, if this doesn’t work, a woman by the name of Penelope Garcia is going to find herself six feet underground.

Spencer sat on the couch slipping his feet into a pair of mismatched socks – you’ve stopped trying to organize them a while ago – tucking them into his converse. He’s off today, probably having plans with the bookstore and the park before offering to make the both of you dinner. It’s endearing to say the least, but food is not something you're hungry for.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” You ask before taking a sip of your coffee. He hasn’t looked up, but you’re facing him now, your scantily clad body exposed by the thin satin of your white bra and underwear. A devil in disguise (you hope).

“Hmm, I was thinking about playing chess in the park for an hour or two before going to the bookstore. A new novel about quantum physics just came out, and even though it’ll probably be about stuff I already know, I’m always willing to look at it from a different perspec…” Spencer finally looked up, his sentence slurring a bit. “...tive.”

“Ah! That sounds exciting! I’ll text you what I want for dinner later if that’s okay? Or would you rather I go shopping with you?”

He blinks, his mouth hanging open intelligently, as though he’s still trying to process exactly what he’s seeing. “Yes. I mean no - I mean… I… what are you wearing?”

You spare a lazy look down, as though you had forgotten you even had the thing on.

“Oh this? It’s just really hot in the apartment today. So make sure you bring some sunscreen and a fan, yeah? Don’t want you getting a sunburn or having a heat stroke.”

“I - I’ve never seen that set before, is it new?” He stammers. You click your tongue as if you genuinely had to date the outfit back, when in reality the tags to the set itself sits pretty in the bathroom trash can. “I have no idea honestly, it looked comfortable though, so I just slipped it on. You don’t mind, right?”

“I… no. I don’t.”

You beam at him, “Perfect. Oh! Let me make you some coffee before you go, I know how hard it is for you to start your day without it.” 

You turn back around, and you could hear Spencer fruitlessly swallow a gasp. The back of your underwear might as well have been a piece of string, because your ass cheeks were basically eating the material. It was uncomfortable, but oh well, beauty is pain.

You smirk in victory, pulling out a medium sized thermos and pouring the rest of the liquid in it.

You didn’t hear him move, let alone walk behind you, but two large hands placed themselves respectively on your hips, the man tucking his face in the side of your neck. You shiver at the hot blow of air that escapes through his nose, and his grip on your skin turns a little tighter.

“What are you doing?” The question is mumbled, but you don’t miss it. “What does it look like? I’m making you coffee, silly.” He huffs. “No. I mean what are you doing to me?”

He presses forward, pushing his half hard cock between your cheeks. It was your turn to gasp, and you couldn’t help but put down the pot of coffee, pushing the now full thermos away to avoid any future hazards. 

You hold on to the edge of the counter, tilting your head further to the side to give the needy man more access. He takes the hint, peppering sweet, heated kisses on the sensitive skin of your throat. You shiver once more, sighing out a smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You know lying is useless, especially with the way your voice sounded so breathless. “You know you’re a terrible liar.” It was a playful dig, and his palms had begun to move, pushing on your full stomach to put more of your weight on him.

“Hm, but you don’t know every single thing I have in the closet, now do you?” You remark, yelping when he nipped at your earlobe. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong and you know it.” You do. “Do I?”

“This is terrible foreplay.” He jokes and you giggle. “I’d say I’m doing a pretty good job, don’t you think?” You push your hips back and add a bit of friction onto his cock. He groans and you feel your pussy pulse.

“You always do a good job.” Spencer murmurs.

You’re turned around so you can face him, and you wish you could take a picture to savor the look on his face. He’s beet red, cheeks and ears flushed a beautiful hue that leaves a twinge of pride pooling in your stomach.

He cups your face, drawing you in for a long awaited kiss. 

You sigh into him, hands twisting at the sleeves of his cardigan to pull him closer. He lets you in exchange of pushing you against the counter until your lower back is digging uncomfortably into the marble.

“Where do you wanna go?” He finally breathes. You stare at him as if you were in a daze before processing his question with a blink. “Couch?” You ask. “Whatever you want.” He says before joining your lips together once more.

He walks the both of you backwards slowly, and he takes advantage of when your mouth parts in a moan as he flicks his tongue against the top of your lip. He tastes like toothpaste and you might be a little crazy to think that it makes him way sexier than it should.

Your eyes flutter open and you push him away with hands on his chest gently.

“Do you trust me?” You gasp.

“Of course.”

“Good.” You say with a smirk.

You make sure he’s close enough to the edge of the couch when you push him on it, quickly clambering onto his lap and settling your hands on his shoulders; his fall naturally to your waist and you grin.

“Hi.” You whisper quietly. “Hey.” He responds back just as hushed. “You can grab my ass, you know.” You tease and his eyes widen just slightly. “I…” You guide his palms to hold the meat of your ass and he grips.

“God.” It tumbles from his lips in a whimper and you fucking melt. 

“Sorry I’ve been such a tease today, Spencie.” You say sweetly with a fake pout. “I just needed you so bad and you’ve been so, so sweet to me, my sweet boy. I didn’t want to ruin it by asking you to fuck me stupid.”

“You wouldn’t have ruined it.” He corrects with a whine. You had begun to grind down on him and he gripped you tightly, helping you rut against him. “No?” You question. He shakes his head quickly, his hair bouncing along with the swings.

“No. ‘Would’ve done anything you asked.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“So, if I asked you to let me suck your dick until I’ve sucked the soul out of you, would you have let me? How about if I asked you to eat my pussy for breakfast, huh? Would you have done it?”

“Yes, yes, God yes! I want to… I wanna do all those things so badly.” He groans, all but pawing at you now. 

“I bet you do,” You coo. “I guess I haven’t been the only one pent up. But that’s okay, because I’ve got you, yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

You smile, leaning in to give him a kiss before traveling downwards to his belt and wrangling it open. You popped open the buttons of his jeans, sliding back so you can tug them down his legs. 

“Up.” You command softly and he obliges. 

You’re faced with his hardened cock bulging from under his black underwear.

“Oh… is this for me?” You know you’re being mean when you drag your fingertips over the spot where precum has begun to pool, only putting slight pressure on it just to hear that sweet sound of his breath hitching.

“Yes – it’s all for you.” Spencer whines and throws his head back against the couch. “All for me? My goodness…” You trail off as you drag his underwear down his thighs. His cock springs up and bobbles against his clothed stomach.

“Can I –” He licks his lips, “Can I take my shirt off?”

“Of course, my love.” You were just about to ask him anyway.

As he rids himself of his top you get up for a split second to take his pants and underwear off fully. As you go to undress yourself, he stops you.

“W— wait… keep it on please.” 

“Oh? You wanna be nasty and pull my panties to the side, huh? Dirty dirty boy.” You tisk, but in reality you feel like you’re about to explode. “Is that okay?” You smile at his question. “More than okay.”

You climb back on top of him, doing exactly what you said and pulling the white satin to the side before gripping his dick, lining it up to your entrance. He holds you steady looking up at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes as you sink down.

The stretch stings because of the lack of foreplay, but you can’t find it within yourself to care as the pain shoots up your lower back and is already fraying at your pleasure filled nerves. 

“So… so good. God.” Spencer chokes. 

Your lips are rolled between your teeth, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You heave out a breath when he sinks down to the hilt, and he just rubs soothing circles on your hips. The feeling helps to guide you as you loosen up, and when you do, you give him an experimental clench.

He groans of course and you smirk lazily.

“‘Gonna ride you now, ‘kay?” You murmur as you lift your hips up before slamming down. Spencer practically shouts when he re-enters you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He’s a whimpering, cursing mess. “That feels good, baby?” You ask as you bounce. Spencer nods and fondness twists in your chest.

“You’re so tight. I think ‘m gonna pass out.” He says dramatically. You laugh, grabbing his hands and slipping them under your bra so they can cover your breasts. “Well, don’t pass out until we’ve cum, alright?”

He gives your breasts a reassuring squeeze. “Of course.” He huffs and you giggle again. The giggles die out though when you shift and his tip prods just right.

“Oh shit.” You curse but remain in the same place.

You ride him in abandon, the sound of skin meeting skin radiating out into the early morning air of the apartment. The sound is nasty and wet and it causes your head to swim. The buzz of mind numbing pleasure swims around in your gut, and you can almost grasp it.

“Spence I – I need more, can you…?” You moan out, your head tilting back. “Yeah, yeah, I got you, sweetheart.”

One hand leaves to rub furiously at your clit and your hips cant forward, sending you landing on his naked, sweat slicked chest. Your thighs burn and you rest for a moment, but Spencer doesn’t seem to match the same sentiment, because the other hand holds you by your hip in a grip that’s almost bruising. 

The fat is spilling through his fingers but he uses it as leverage as he now fucks up into you. You squeal, throwing your arms around his neck and tucking his face into yours. You mark him mindlessly, body trembling as you near your orgasm.

You can feel him twitch inside of you when he sets a pace, bringing you up and down in a way that indicates he’s nearing an end of his own.

“Together, okay?” You cry out, “‘Wanna cum together.”

“Okay, honey, okay.” 

He sets his feet on the floor and rubs harder at your sensitive bud, and the arousal that implodes inside of you is so blinding that you white out for a minute. Every one of your senses are overwhelmed, and you can hear him mewling into your ear before warmth paints your womb.

It’s silent in the apartment for a moment before you speak.

“I have to tell you a secret.” You whisper mindlessly, laying your cheek on a bony shoulder. “And what’s that?” He runs his fingers up and down your spine.

“This set is new.”

“I know honey, I saw the charge on my card.”

“What?!” You exclaim, pulling away from his body to search his hazy eyes with your wide ones.

“You forget I can see the bank statements.” Spencer says with a smile. “No, no. I – I didn’t mean to use your card.”

“You didn’t have to… I may have uh… may have slipped one into your wallet when you weren’t looking.” He admits sheepishly. You stare at a moment and then smile incredulously. “Did you… secretly sugar daddy me?”

“Oh God, please don’t call it that.” He says with a groan, leaning forward to bury his face in your chest.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever sugar daddy.” You tease, running your fingers through his sweaty locks.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

[wolfiesmoon]

A rare ingredient

Inumaki x gn!reader

sometimes only being able to say onigiri ingredients gets a little tough on our boy :(

@kairiscorner just tagging you since you wanted to read this!!

The upside of having a crush is, well... everything good that comes along with having a crush. Your smile is the most beautiful thing ever to him. He feels oddly happy most of the time and especially happy when you're by his side. He wants to share everything with you, every minute detail of his life.

The issue is, however, that you've only transferred to Jujutsu High recently and can't understand anything he says. Unlike his other classmates who reply with "thanks" and a grateful smile to "spicy cod roe" as is intended, you simply give him a confused smile every time.

And that doesn't even cover the fact that he doesn't have any words to describe his love for you. He wouldn't have them even if he were able to talk normally like everyone else.

"Kelp." he greeted you, waving.

"Ah, hello!" you inferred that he was greeting you, waving back to him. He swears you look better every day and help but gaze upon your amazing face.

He is eternally grateful for the uniform that covers the lower part of his face, because he doesn't think he would have gotten away with blushing so much around you otherwise.

Normally he would surprise you by sneaking up on you from behind but after you told him that freaks you out he stopped. You're the one person he's willing to make that exception for. Maki isn't as lucky, unfortunately.

"...Tuna mayo." he never knows what to tell you, and considering his limited vocabulary, that would be kind of hard to do anyways. It's fair to say that you do most of the talking when alone with him.

"Uhhh, I met up with my non-sorcerer friends today." you always assume the role of storyteller with Toge. He's a good listener. Though you don't know why he always insists on staying by your side.

"I didn't tell them what I've been up to, of course. They wouldn't believe it anyways. But aside from that, we went to our favourite café that we frequented all the time in middle school." you smiled fondly at the memories that flooded your mind at that moment.

"Salmon." he wants to be invited to that café, too. Prefferably just the two of you. On a date.

You smiled awkwardly at him, nodding. You never know what in the world he's trying to tell you so you just "smile and wave" most of the time.

He furrowed his brows slightly, then looked off, seemingly thinking really hard about something. You raised an eyebrow in question.

"...Prawns." ("...I love you.")

His eyes met yours, and your eyes slightly widened. Did it finally get through to you?! Did you somehow understand his little confession?!

"You've never used that one before..." your expression returned to normal, still smiling at him, atlhough a bit intrigued by the rare ingredient now.

"By the way, are you alright? You're making a weird face." you moved closer to him, inspecting the upper half of his face.

"Caviar." he covered his face with his hands.

You're going to be the death of him.

[jazeswhbhaven]

He Can Match Your Freak | Asmodeus Selfie Spoilers

OKAY sooo FINALLY I'm posting this lol it's probably going to be like two parts maybe??? Let's see how this goes because I'm learning to not post thousands of screenshots unless it's relevant.

First. I'm skipping the prologue because most have seen it, and I'm doing a different thing with that anyway.

SOOO it's gonna be a crash course ya'll with jumping right in when MC is in his room about to get them cheeks clapped.

He wants to know more about MC because of what he's heard and well he wouldn't be wrong here. MC apparently is quite the deviant. And you can tell the writers tried to describe him as majestic and breathtaking as possible because the way MC sees him is similar to how they see Leviathan.

Until they said this mess.

G I R L WH A T

Even Asmo was like ???? But he has a sense of humor so he just laughed it off which I mean okay yes as if he would care about that phrase being weird.

But MC out here actin' up once a g a i n. lol

But also they mention his body odor keeps wafting over in MC's nose clearly yeah because not only them pheromones' but uh anyways we'll get to that part later

And MC was just like covering their nose and is like "this is dangerous" and for me ya'll?

I'd be afraid to offend him by saying he smells ripe which I'm sure he wouldn't be offended because I'm not sure what would offend him at this point in time.

So big boi puts a sigil on MC's body similar to a womb tattoo which is why he said "be surprised you aren't pregnant" but this symbol makes you into his "female" no matter the gender. He goes to say it nicely that you're his "virgin" though.

And with that, most of what's happening is that MC is feeling the effects of Asmo without him even doing much of anything just yet. The feelings of having climaxed multiple times over, hazy, losing your goddamn mind.

That sort of thing.

Baby I would have cried on the spot. What do you mean be your companion?

Yup he asked MC to not only be his one night stand but to basically be his and that he thinks he could fall in love with them.

He says that he can fall in love at first sight despite his reputation. And also he mentions MC is his third love. First was Solomon (rejected him and wouldn't tell him who it is he was in love with) and two his late wife who was a witch and it's their children/descendants who are the Unholyc that inhabit Earth.

I'mma be honest with ya'll I didn't finish Lovely Unholyc because I was mostly interested in William, there was no route for him at that time so I just kinda dipped, tried again and then dipped lol

oh btw he apparently just straight up wanted to yap about him clapping Solomon's cheeks and getting his cheeks clapped back and how many damn positions they did and I'm trying to wrap my head around what the fuck they did because at one point surely they were on the ceiling or floating mid-air, like I don't even know

But his wife who chose to live on Earth and grow old and die normally put a curse on his soul. He can love and fuck whoever he wants and should never be lonely but he can't have any more children. If he does, they die, and he dies along with the partner he made them with. (the fall of the house of usher vibes)

AND let me just say? That woman did the world a favor because he has a breeding kink. We'd have a whole universe full of little Asmo halflings running around. So either it was her being possessive or just her sparing the world of that burden then yeah thank you for that because phew.

i don't need no babies anyways

And he says the same thing like "Oh we can leave other things other than babies, like photos of us in a mess" meaning he really meant when he said he wanted to participate in the contest.

I mean he would have won so I think it's fair to give the others a chance. Lol

So things are getting hot and heavy now and he's wondering why MC is holding back. Honestly I'm like huh he did say that he turns you into a virgin and not everyone is confident when being presented with the chance of a lifetime to fuck the embodiment of lust.

But at the same time I mean...MC this is your element and you are pretty much striking out. (not to him but to me you are)

SO I complied all of these because this is important. Asmodeus is literally combining all of their philias and using them on MC and he's quite good at it. And well, why wouldn't he be?

And he even goes to strangle and lick up MCs tears?

Yeah we know what he's about.

His tongue did what now?

his tongue did what now

his tongooooooooooooo

Anyways I short circuited there because everything about him is just driving me nuts.

MC even said they were coming by him just kissing them and I'm like hold up??????

I fucking bet.

Okay ya'll picked the nastiest ass stuff for him to mention but I get it. Congrats if ya'll have things you're self conscious about during sex Asmo's your demon because he literally won't care and will still be turned on.

Ayo.

Moving on....LMAO

And uh...Asmo was licking MC's snot and spit off their face and they came again.

I'm drowning in a sensory nightmare why is he so h o t but this is nastttyyyyyy

"I can always go hard whenever I feel like fucking the opponent"

Sir what? He just be sayin' anything

But he does ask MC what do they want...and they just smack the fuck out of him so there's that. Lol

I would tell him I'd very much like that mouth on the kewchie. I don't even need anything else just his mouth. His jaw probably can go for days.

Now MC is making deduction here that Asmo is the king of lust and seduction and can pass this feeling on to others. He's dangerous this way.

Now Asmo how do you know that.

Tell me sir HOW (I think I know the answer....but I'd be hella surprised that Belphie would let him hit unless he was watching him...)

But mostly what's happening is that MC is feeling what Asmo feels basically the same spiel as the other kings except with him it's intense to the point where they are quite literally about to pass the fuck out. And Asmo ain't about to stop momentum so you better stay awake MC.

NOW YA'LL.

Bullet point times:

MC has climaxed pretty much several times and they haven't even fucked properly yet

But wait, their clothes are off and....

Bam they notice that Asmo's cock is pretty much halfway in their hole and they haven't even noticed

All he did was push himself to the hilt and MC squirted ya'll

So there's that.

But the womb tattoo is doing it's job because now the climaxes are back to back, and I'm just wondering how the hell MC is still mentally there because I'd be a babbling mess.

Yes daddy.

he makes me SICK (lovingly)

But also they mention the liquid he was feeding MC had a horrible smell and I'm just like oh fucking gawd please get rid of my sense of smell before sleeping with him because I would not make it. Why is everything having to do with him smell so much? LOL

LMAO

MC was begging for his dick and Asmo is like, baby it's already in are you okay?

I'm crying

Yeah remember those memes about people getting high and saying they were vacuuming the dishes?

I imagine that's what it's like having sex with him. One minute you're on the bed next you're in another dimension, floating, transcending, melting, legs bent in impossible shapes. Indeed I am mopping the lawn.

He even mentioned they've done it like six times already and he's just getting started.

with a face like that? phew.

Oh so he does have a good pull out game.

btw the visual for that???? GAWDDDDDDD -> look here

So let me back up a bit and mention that MC was feeling insecure that since they have been doing it for quite some time (2 days I think?) they thought he wasn't satisfied. Nah he was just savoring the moment. He could come at any time. ANd when he does? It's alot and from his horn and everything. Cum fountain.

And best part? No refractory period. He's already hard and slamming that thang back in.

Also he mentions here that there's a smell, and he's getting really worked up.

Yeah he's tearing that up. Like it's overtime ya'll.

There's purple smoke and a erotic aura in the air, he's grabbing and biting down on the back of MC's neck to claim them? Oh he's going in.

Alright here we go.

And just so ya'll know...sorry male MC players....the same line is used in ya'lls version too. No change.

This is the point where I would of preferred perhaps something else be said entirely instead. I know the majority of players are women/non-men but...I can see someone playing and getting side swept like?????

But anyways let's move on past this point

Until the room stank is an understatement.

But anyways, while MC is trying to somewhat calm down, Asmo is still trying to keep the momentum. And MC starts trying to have a normal conversation and figuring out why devil's fear him the most.

But also mentioned they wanted to shove his nasty, greasy, bodily fluid covered hair up their hole. E x c u s e the fuck outta me?

AN Y W AY S

Mc figures that the reason the devils fear him is because of this. Imagine falling for someone like this? Who is nothing but the sole reason existence of lust and temptation where you could fuck for hours and reach pleasure centers unknown and yet have that all be taken away when he leaves? There's no love? No sweet nothings? Just being used up and tossed without any direction and you're just in the dark?

welp.

But Asmo does offer MC some comfort

He tells them that he's back in Hell so he will be around more often. It won't be painful, that it's okay to start slow and that MC would wait for him when he's ready to fully accept his feelings. He could fall in love with them not that he was already in love with them. But with how he's considering him as a companion, how he's biting and claiming them, the amount of time he's spending with MC.

mind you he left Phenomenon on the floor the moment he entered the meeting room so I imagine they weren't fucking for very long at all. I imagine all of his sessions with others are "quick" and for those he really likes they last longggg like days.

Not mention he on that yandere vibes....telling MC he'd lock them up in a cage but he'll deal with it for now.

And apparently when he gives a sincere command, it must be followed. So MC basically ends up getting dressed, not whining about leaving, and all that good stuff. A true dom in that sense.

Also he mentions that when he's nearby MC will just get turned on automatically. "Your body will scream that your man is here"

why is that so hot?

So MC is back in Gehenna and this is when Asmo starts reminiscing about Solomon who predicted that he'd see MC in the future and that he would know that he feels at the moment for Solomon is not 'love'.

I wonder if Asmodeus was just helplessly losing himself for Solomon, and pepaw clocked that and was just telling him to chill on it for a bit. Although it is fucking WI L D to me that he is going to try this again with his friend's descendant..."hey I'm a friend of your grandpa...soooo yeah let's fuck and fall in love"

Sounds weird when I put that way huh? lol

Also since we're at the end I'd like to highlight some personality things about him!

He plays too much: Taking a photo of himself and MC sleeping and sending it to Satan knowing he'd storm immediately to the room

He doesn't have self doubt, he is very much full of himself but is considerate of his partner given the circumstances

He is not into aftercare, he claims that part is included during the sex, if sex is over then it's over

He doesn't shower ya'll. Like at all. But he oddly keeps his nails clean and that's about it? He seems to be obsessed with sex funk

He really likes Mammon. Like a lot. But he does that thing where he's like "Nah I want him to want me so I won't give him what he wants" lol okay

He fucks pillows, pretty much inanimate objects if he feels like it

He has a sense of humor

Romance is not absent, it's just tricky for him since all that's all his brain is "breed breed breed breed sex sex sex breed breed breed oh lets pause for a break sex sex sex kissing sex sex breeding biting"

He loves his children though. He really is a fatherly devil. He beams about his kids and this is a moment where you can catch him not being sexual

It comes to no surprise that he doesn't like the idea of sharing his favorite person but it has me think that his style of relationship is that he's monogamous but if you want to occasionally bring someone to "play" with he won't mind as long as it's discussed and he gets to fuck them too

He's got a one track mind, but it's not like he can't carry on a conversation

Now for my

T H E O R I E S

Asmo is older than all of the kings, but younger than Lucifer

I am reaching in the dark but it seems the only King he's had sex with or has watched have sex is Belphie

He's only in love with MC because he's taking a opportunity that wasn't given to him with Solomon

There's most likely a loophole to his curse that his late wife left on him but he simply chooses not to break it

If the Kings fight together along with Asmodeus, the war would be over, and if we ever get a final battle chapter it's going to be MC who is the missing "key" and the one who figures that out is Asmo because he spent so much time with Solomon

We may get a cameo from one of his children in the story

Asmodeus is possibly capable of lying and just hasn't revealed that to anyone. I say this because if he was one of the very early devils created he is the exception to the rule. So there could be some secret he knows.

BUT wow it seems that I have compiled ALL of this into one post. YAY FOR ME. Now there may be more little blurbs popping up as I remember them but for nowwwwww~ Thank you for reading, hopefully you grabbed some snacks, and ya'll are amazing. Feel free to let me know ya'lls thoughts if you haven't said already on our stinky hot devil man <3 lol

[jarofstyles]

Flower 3

Hi my loves! I am so excited to give you guys an update on our flower petals. Don’t kick my ass for the ending xoxox

Flower masterlist

Check out our Patreon for early access to part 4 and 180+ exclusive writings

WC- 5.3k

Warnings - talk of kink, mega sexual tension, daddy kink if you squint really hard hehe

Her head was still dizzy even after sitting in the front seat and letting him out the bags in the back. She did her job as good passenger and placed the coffees in each cup holder, but she was spinning. Her hand still tingling and warm from how he held it through the parking lot like it was common practice, like he was her boyfriend. 

Would he want to be?

He’d already said he didn’t do hook ups. Gia had pointed out that he wasn’t normal around her and Sarah had agreed. Fuck, he just spent over two hundred on her and didn’t bat an eye. Maybe he did, and maybe she was itching to find out what sort of questions he’d want to ask. 

Weirdly, she wanted him to cross lines. He was always so polite and sweet, despite his dirty jokes at times when he was tipsy. With her, he was usually the poster child of a gentleman. He took care of her and did all sort of sweet things to her, leaving no question about if he cared about her or not. . The words he had said on the car ride here about a guy being sweet out in public and a freak in the sheets echoed around her head as he climbed into his seat, making the thoughts start to dissipate. 

“Aren’t you jus’ the best little passenger princess.” He snickered, putting the keys into the ignition. Her eyes tried to ignore the way the little smirk on his face bade her stomach buzz, but it was a hard thing to look past.

“I could have spit in your coffee. You never know.” Her tease was met by him picking up the cup, looking her dead in the eye as he took a sip. Oh. Well then. “You sicko.” 

“Maybe.” He shrugged his seatbelt on after his little display. “But turning the radio on doesn’t mean you are safe from my questions.” 

“I’m not trying to hide from them! I just don’t like awkward silences and I’ve no clue what you’re gonna ask me so I was making sure we weren’t in danger of one.”she sniffed, pointing her nose up a bit. It was a bit of an act considering she was, indeed, trying to hide a little bit. In fact, she was incredible anxious to know what he was wondering about. “Go on and hit me with one.” 

“Alright. When did you start reading those types of books?” 

“Those types.” She scoffed at the phrasing. It was a relatively tame question with a not so savory answer. “Make me sound like it’s something crazy. But the answer is way too young. Probably 14, 15. I checked one out at the library. To be fair, the first time I didn’t realize it had anything like that in it. I just liked the cover and it seemed nice. One BDSM adjacent book and unsupervised internet access search later and I was finding out all sorts of phrases I didn’t need to know.” It was hard to say if she regretted it now, but she did think it was a little early for that. Then again, most guys her age then were doing their own exploring so it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. 

“Hm. Interesting… did you ever get caught with one of them at that age? I’d imagine your parents wouldn’t love that.” No, they most certainly would not. 

“Thank god, no. It would have been mortifying. Now I know that my mother has her own little stash with the shirtless guys and the historical romances though, so it wouldn’t have been like she had a leg to stand on anyways.” That was something she was still thankful for. “Did you ever get caught watching or looking at something?”

From the wince on his face, he absolutely did. “Yeah. It’s just as bad as you think it is. It was my dad, which is only marginally better than it being my mother, but he didn’t seem very phased. I think I was more embarrassed than he was. He never brought it up, but I remembered to lock the door each and every time after that.”

“Oh, that’s rough.” Y/N hissed in sympathy. “My parents worked a lot so it was easy for me to just explore things I shouldn’t have back then. Since you’re older than me, was it online or the magazines?” She was teasing, but he rolled his eyes. 

“Magazine, actually. I’m not that much older.” Five years, but it was enough to make a difference in how they grew up. “Don’t tease me. I see the age gap shit you’re reading.”

“It’s just fun and games.” She assured, brushing her hand over his shoulder playfully. Again, initiating touches. “Besides, I do like an older man so I’m not gonna make too much fun. Considering you did see the books I grabbed.”

He had been very interested in them, it seemed. Interested enough to hover and let her body feel his heat against her back, the burn still there if she let herself think about it too long.

“Yeah, actually I was gonna ask- which one are you the most excited to read?” It was a nice question, middle of the line- but she had a feeling he was trying to gage something.

“Hm. Reaper, that’s the biker club bad boy protecting her from a stalker one, or the Highest bidder. I’ve heard so much about both of them. I know the smut is good in Reaper because I’ve read snippets, but the jury is still out on the second one.”  They had both come highly recommended so she was excited to see if they were going to live up to her expectations. “I do like a good dark romance. It’s kinda hard to explain to people because some things you can enjoy as a fantasy but know in reality it isn’t really ethical, but they won’t get that.”

“I do get it, actually.” He nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. “S’kinda like if you roleplay in bed or something. No one thinks you should actually be in a student professor relationship, but the premise of it is hot. A lot of it is like… power balances, kinda.” 

The ease Harry had of understanding sort of took her off guard. Y/N knew he was intelligent and had spent plenty of time with him to know that was the truth, but a lot of people she knew didn’t quite understand the layers there was to it. 

“Yeah, actually. It is a little similar to roleplay, I hadn’t thought too much about that as a comparison.” Now she definitely would. However… the fact that he had brought it up raised a whole new crop of questions… along with the fact she could see a slight shift in his body when she mentioned it. “Is that something you’re into, then? Roleplaying?” 

Her eyes watched as he tugged on his lip, using his one hand to steer the wheel while the other seemed to be self soothing a little bit. His forearm looked particularly good in this light, the veins standing out slightly as he squeezed over the leather. 

“Mm, outed myself a little with that one didn’t I?”

“A bit.” She giggled, crossing her legs. The question remained on what it was that he liked to roleplay? Was it the teacher thing? Nurse? Doctor? Something more risky? Now that she’d allowed her brain to entertain the not so safe for work thoughts about the man, it was difficult to filter them.

“I do enjoy it, yeah. It’s fun. It doesn’t need to be crazy or anything, but it’s fun to spice things up. I haven’t done a ton of it but it is an interest of mine. I feel like you can explore things with it being safe and being with someone you actually trust, so it’s easier to actually enjoy it.”

The explanation made perfect sense. Partially she was relieved that he seemed so intelligent when it came to sex, considering…. 

“Safety is big. One time a guy decided to choke me but he didn’t know how to properly do it.” She winced at the memory. “Bruised my neck. He felt really bad afterwards but it was obvious he hadn’t done any sort of real research into it and it was never discussed beforehand. Do I think it’s hot? Yeah, but not when it feels like someone’s about to crush my windpipe.” 

“Christ.” Harry sighed, exasperated at the story. It looked like he genuinely was astounded by how bad the guys she had been with had behaved. “I feel like that’s kink 101, innit? You learn how to spank and choke without causing the real damage. Fuck, M’sorry that happened to you. Did it make it hard to enjoy it again?” 

“For a little while, yeah. Like you said before, hookups aren’t really my thing anymore either but when I was more into the scene I made sure they either knew how to do it or didn’t do it at all. Sucks, considering it can make you feel ten times better.” It depended on the person for sure, but for her? The head rush made it so much better when she came. 

“Yeah, I can only imagine. I’ve never really had a horror story like that for me. Anyone I’ve been with knew how to do it and I figured it out early on, but I did have one girl who tore up my back really bad. Not in the sexy way with marks for a few days, but one got infected and it was a whole thing. I like pain, but not something that’s gonna actively harm me later. I don’t think she meant to do it either but sometimes those nails are sharp.” 

Y/N squirmed slightly in her seat as he let out that little bit of information that she clung to. Humidity between her thighs wasn’t exactly something she had planned for today but it seemed like Harry had a manual on how to make her squirm. “First, I’m sorry that happened to you too. I feel like you’ll be able to know you’re doing too much and it shouldn’t ever be tearing up actual skin- unless you’re into that but obviously it wasn’t for you.” She winced, knowing it must have been a bitch to take care of. No one could properly do much for a back thing on their own. The whole reach around thing- a mess. “You can tell me to fuck off this time, but are you into both? The choking, then being choked too?” There was no better way to ask it without being direct, even if it made her feel a little weird to say. 

In the drivers seat, he bit his lip to stifle a grin before sneaking a look at her. “What? You think you’re the only one who should have that sorta fun?” Relieving the restraint, he let himself smile at her before his eyes took the road again. “I do, yeah. Both. It just feels good, doesn’t it? The head rush sort of thing. It’s intimate if you do it right. For either person, it can feel like… I dunno, like you’re theirs and they’re mine in that aspect. If it’s done right, it can be the thing to push you over the edge. Trusting someone with their hand around one of your most vulnerable points, it’s a bit thrilling- intimate.” 

Y/N knew Harry had some experience, knew he would probably be good in bed just in how he handled her in general. He was attentive and sweet, checking in with her, but unafraid to do what he wanted. He’s dragged her into his lap and rested his chin on her shoulder, easy to ask her for a cuddle and to play with her hair- but he’s been respectful about the whole thing. Part of her wishes maybe he’d maybe be a little disrespectful at this point. 

There was no doubt in her mind that Harry knew how to fuck. Just from these conversations alone, she knew he could handle himself. But knowing he was pretty dirty, the knowledge of him liking choking on both fronts, it made her feel hot under her collar. “Mm. Nice to know.” 

The response hadn’t been though through, because there were definitely connotations to that- but she let the words tumble out of her mouth without thinking. Her eyes widened as she looked down at her lap, going to open her mouth to respond something else, but the man beat her to it. As usual. 

“Is it?” He hummed lightly. “I’m glad you find it amusing.” 

“I mean, it is.” She had already dug herself a hole. “I just always thought it would be you doing the choking, I never considered the other way around”. 

“You’ve thought about it before, huh?” The smirk was audible in his voice, making her cheeks burn. God damn it all and her slip ups. Harry made her flustered and nervous rolled into a slightly bold ball of dangerous curiosity. 

There were a few ways she could’ve gone about it. Denial was the biggest one, but she’d already gone this far. Didn’t she want to push past the friendship boundary? The way her throat felt tight with him so close behind her at the bookshop while he asked her about her books, how she’d placed his hand on her inner thigh for him when they were out last night, she wanted to go further past the established boundaries. 

“A few times.” 

Her reply was breezy, though she certainly didn’t feel it. The swirling anticipation was bubbling in her tummy, a fluttering bundle of nerves expanding heat through her body. The atmosphere in the truck had been a little tight before, but it had been slowly morphing into a sexually tense mess. 

“Mmm. Nice to know.” Mirroring her prior response, she chanced a look at him. One hand still on the steering wheel, vein still making an appearance in his forearm making an appearance from the sunlight glazing inside the truck. But this time, his stubbled chin dipped into a dimple, a light smirk coating his lips and he was rubbing his hand over his denim covered thigh. His hands, god his fucking hands. They were sexy, sexier than she knew a man’s hands could be. He worked with them, so sometimes he had a few cuts or bruises on them, but he kept his nails trimmed and they were clean most of the time she saw them. The cross tattoo stuck out against his skin, tucked between his thumb and index finger. 

Impulse control didn’t exist as her finger reached out to trace said ink, running the tip of her nail over the symbol. “I dunno if I ever told you how much I like your tattoos but- I do.” She admitted lightly. “I love tattoos. I’ve always wanted to get some but I’ve been afraid.” 

Harry cleared his throat, stopping at the light to look down at her finger running back and forth on the top of his hand. The nail lightly running over the black ink on his sensitive skin, her eyes taking in the same thing. There was no move to remove his hand, letting it stay still as she continued the hypnotic movement and allowed her eyes to move up to his face. 

“Yeah?” His voice was slightly hoarse, showing that she did indeed have some effect on her. The confidence was building as the car ride went on, each little confirmation that he had affections over her making it easier for her to feel the motivation to keep going. Keep poking and prodding to see what would get him to snap. “It’s uh, it’s like…” The satisfaction of making him lose his train of thought had her a little drunk with power, moving her fingertips to his ring to twist it around. “It’s not that bad, for me. I like pain, but it’s like… irritating, maybe. There’s areas you should go for a first time, nowhere directly over bone. My sternum hurt but like… yeah. S’not that bad. I’ll take you to my artist if you want.” 

“Would you?” Y/N wasn’t stupid. She knew her cadence, the sweet way she said it would elicit a specific type of reaction from him, but that’s the point. “That would be so sweet of you, H. Maybe I’ll take you up on that. I think…” The trail of her fing moved up and down his hand and towards his wrist. “You do a lot for me, you know? You’re so kind and helpful, you help me out at my places and I think maybe we don’t hang out outside of that as much as we should. Do you know what I mean?” 

“I agree.” He nodded along to her statement. “Well- I hope you know I don’t mind helping you or anything, cause I don’t. I really like doing things for you. It feels nice.” That could be a loaded statement if she thought about it too long. Harry powered through it though. “But I would love t’hang out with you more individually. I know what you’re sayin’. S’a little annoying when we go out and people interrupt our conversations.”

Y/N giggled at that because, well, they probably shouldn’t be having those conversations of philosophy at the bar and then get annoyed the friends they came with interrupted them, but it seemed like Harry didn’t really like sharing her attention much as it was. “I agree. So rude.” It was obvious she was teasing him a little, squeezing him lightly before her attention was caught by him turning into the car park. “Oh, shit. We’re here already?” 

Part of her was sad because the sexual tension was so delicious and she had been a little hopeful he’d snap, but she really was hungry. 

“Yeah, but it’s okay. We can keep talking inside, then I’ll bring you home.” There was another pause as she could see him trying to figure out how to say something else. “Uh, or if you wanted, you can come over and swim for a bit? You left your swimsuit there the last time I had the cookout and I’ve been meaning to give it back.”

Y/N felt herself resist the urge to squeeze her thighs together. There was that preexisting knowing that if she went over to his place there was a very little chance they’d actually go swimming. It was hard not to get on her knees and nudge his prick right into her mouth even in the car, but maybe this was what edging was like. “Sure! Everytime we hang out at my house you find something to do.” She raised an accusatory eyebrow at the man. “Something to fix. Maybe I want all the attention for once.”

“Oh yeah?” He met her eye with a brow raise, making her realize she had accidentally been suggestive… but fuck it. 

“Yep.” She popped the last letter of the word before opening her car door and slipping out. “Let’s go! I’m hungry!”

——

The tension wasn’t exclusive to the car.

It didn’t break when they walked in, it didn’t break when they sat down to order and it didn’t break as they ate. If anything, Y/N was being a tease for one of the first times in her life. Brushing her foot over his leg, keeping her eyes on the menu when they browsed it, sucking some of the chocolate from her milkshake from her fingers, bumping their feet together, it was thrilling. 

Harry’s eyes were dark, almost constantly on her. Y/N could feel his stare when she looked away, either to her food or when she had walked to the restroom to refresh herself. Her poor panties were completely useless now, but taking them off would do her no good. There was no doubt that this whole trip together had been working her up, but Harry had no problem in making it worse. 

After insisting on paying the full bill, Y/N walked a little bit ahead of him to try to get to his truck- only to be stopped by a hand on the back of her neck. Firm and controlling, he slowed her down to his pace. “I told you, I like t’open the door for you. So stop bein’ a brat because I didn’t let you pay and just say thank you.” 

And, oh- fuck. Y/N could have whimpered from the way he talked to her, rounded eyes looking up at his with her lip poking out slightly. His eyes were a darker shade of green and his jaw set in a way she hadn’t seen before. Had she been moving her hips a little more to see what he’d do? Yeah, a little. But it had to be a culmination of the fact that she’d been working him up all day and purposely acted up to see his reaction. 

“Sorry, daddy.” The apology held some sarcasm as they approached the truck. “Didn’t know I had to- oh!” Y/N choked out a gasp as she felt his hand release her neck, instead twirling her hair around his fist and stopping her straight. Her breathing hitched as she felt his lips come closer to her ear, the closeness of the man that had tormenting her poor body all day without even touching her cunt making her shiver. 

“Don’t call me that unless you want to be bent over my fuckin’ lap. Lots of attitude today from you, baby.” Baby? Oh, shit. The threat, the heat of his words, the grip, all of it had her knees feeling weak. “You’ve been a goddamn tease all day and I’ve been playing nice, so unless you want t’see my already thin fucking patience snap, I suggest you behave for me. Yeah?” The girl took too long to answer, apparently, because he tugged on her hair again to make it sting a little bit. “Asked you a question.” 

“Y-Yeah. I can.” Her voice weakened by the shock and pure arousal, she couldn’t form more than that as he unwound her hair from his fist, demeanor changing instantly with a soft kiss to her cheek. 

“There we go. Amazing!” He lightened up, opening the car door for her. “Wanted to hear that story about your neighbor and their Chihuahua, so why don’t you tell me that on the way to my place?” 

Y/N didn’t know how he switched to easily, how he wasn’t shaky and pressing her against the bench of his truck to show her exactly how impatient he could be, but she assumed he just had more control than she did. There was no more questioning in the grand investigation on if Harry was interested in her or not. It was safe to assume he was, and she was going to use every bit of that confidence to her advantage when they got back to his place. 

She’d behave for now. Let him help her into the car and tell him the story of the yappy thing that liked to eat baby carrots from her hand, be a good girl until they got to his house and the door was closed behind them. After that, though? All bets were off. 

——-

Harry’s house was a lot more rustic than hers was. 

It resembled a log cabin which really did attest to his whole lumberjack appeal. Contractor, wore flannels and tee shirts, his hair was a bit unkempt sometimes and he had that facial hair he grew out and shaved whenever it felt right. The wraparound porch was something she was eternally jealous of, along with the huge stone fireplace and step down living room. He had impeccable hardwood floors and an open concept bottom floor, skylights in the den and a back deck with a view of the mountains that would make anyone jealous. His pool was built into the hillside, his deck housing a jacuzzi and lots of seating as it sprawled down the length of his house. 

What was even better was knowing he’d put most of the grunt work into it. He bought the house and remodeled the whole thing, added onto it, renovated every nook and cranny while keeping the integrity of it. He worked with his hands and it was one of the sexiest things about him, she found, and that itself had her clenching her thighs as he opened the front door with her bags of books hanging off his arm. 

They were not light but he carried them like it was a bag of feathers. Another thing that made her feel out of her mind with hormones. 

Her brain hadn’t been able to stop repeating the way he had reacted to her playfully calling him daddy, how he had helped himself to her hair and took control of her. How he’d been sweet with her after, giving her cheek a chaste kiss before helping her into the car and listening intently to the story of the neighbor and her dog before letting the music turn up and them sit in their own silence. 

She wondered if he had been thinking about it too. 

Once the door was open she was happy to follow him inside, the smell of lemon hitting her in surprise. Usually it smelled like pine and something a little more musky. Like he could read her mind, he placed the bags on the foyer bench as he toed off his boots. “Had the housekeeper come by earlier today, it’s the cleaning stuff.”

“Housekeeper?” Y/N blinked a few times. “Since when?”

“Since 3 months ago. It’s twice a week, a woman comes by to clean the house for me. I do the normal upkeep but m’usually busy, y’know? Don’t have a lot of time to do the deep clean- and if I’m honest, I’ve got no desire to.” He laughed, hanging up the over shirt he brought in from the truck over the coatrack. 

“Ah. I don’t blame you. That’s the only thing I find chenging about having my own place.”

She could technically afford a housekeeper but it wasn’t something she needed. “I kinda like doing deep cleans. I do them on Sundays and get everything ready the week. If I had your place I’d be excited for it. It’s so beautiful in here.” The compliment was an understatement. If she could have any place, it would be this one. 

Sure the long driveway was probably a little scary at night and being in the woods would take a little more getting used to, but she’d seen the sunset from his deck. It was breathtaking. 

“Well, you’re welcome to do that whenever you want.” He teased, taking the keys from his pocket and putting them on the hook. One of his toolboxes sat on the floor next to the shoe rack, slightly open. It was just so… Harry of him. “Can I get you something to drink?” 

“No, I’m okay.” She shook her head, looking back up at him. His broad shoulders and his pretty eyes, arms crossed over his chest as he looked right back down at her. It was easy for the heat to come back between them as she took a step forward, reminding herself it was the time to be brave. Her second heartbeat between her thighs was nearly demanding it of her. “I wanted to ask… what was that all about? In the parking lot?” 

Harry winced slightly, looking away from her as a blush covered his cheeks. Not the reaction she’d expected, but it was interesting nonetheless. “I… that was out of line of me. I shouldn’t have touched you like that. I’m really sorry, Flower. It was inappropriate and I don’t-“ his eyes went back up as her hands covered his forearms, lightly tugging to get his crossed arms to drop. 

“Harry…” she sighed. “Why are you apologizing? Hm?” It was her turn to get into his personal space, stepping into his form and running her hands up his arms.

Those built, inked, perfect arms that reminded her just how strong they were all the fucking time. Her hands clasped together behind his neck, allowing herself to lean into his body as she swallowed her pride and gave herself permission to go for it. To just fucking do it. “I didn’t complain, did I? Didn’t tell you I was uncomfortable?”

“No…” he said slowly, hands frozen by his sides as he looked down at her like he was slightly confused. Almost like he didn’t believe it. 

“I wasn’t uncomfortable. I looked like that because when you grabbed my hair and spoke to me like that… it let me know what kind of man you are.” 

“And what kind of man do you think I am?” His voice dropped, eyes hooking on to hers as his hands slowly dropped to her hips. The grip was light, curious, but his palms were warm and large and fucking perfect on her body. 

“I think you’re the type of man who can fuck me right. You’re so sweet all the time, H. So nice t’me, you make me feel safe and appreciated and beautiful… you always compliment me and refill my drinks. But I didn’t realize you don’t treat the other girls like me. You don’t grab them and put them in your lap. You don’t kiss their necks. You only do that to me.” It was a relief to know that much.  “And I’ve been a little oblivious to the fact you’ve been trying to touch me differently, but I think that’s enough of that. You liked to hear about my books, paid for them, paid for my lunch… kinda acting like a sugar daddy today, hm?” Her hair fell over her shoulders as she arched her head back, the firm wall of a man keeping her up as she did so. 

“I didn’t do it for you to touch me, Y/N- I promise.” He assured quickly, which was sweet. She already knew it though. 

“I know you didn’t. You did it because you’re a provider. You help me in so many ways, you’re the best man I’ve ever met. You’d do it for me over and over again, even if I didn’t catch on because you’re just good. So fucking good to me, and today….” Biting down lightly on her lip, she let out a quiet groan. “Today you drove me crazy. Kept touching me lightly and didn’t press too much, gave me all the answers I wanted and were so respectful about my own. It just let me know that it wasn’t stupid of me to like you. You’re the type of man who can take care of me. Aren’t you?” 

The question was answered with a low groan and his mouth falling on hers. Full and soft, he caught her lips with his own and exhaled against her as he hummed. Fucking finally.  Pulling apart with a soft click, he let out a laugh of disbelief. He couldn’t believe he was kissing her, that she was saying all of this- and neither could she. “If you let me, I will. I’ll take care of every-fuckin-thing you could ever want, baby. You’ve been driving me crazy since we first met, and I was patient but… you’re right.” Another kiss melted her, the grip on her hips not so gentle anymore. “I am a provider. So let me provide you with the pleasure I know you need.”

[autumnywinter]

thoughts on yandere merman elliott. NOW /hj

FDAIURHFAUIHFUIAHFIAHEI

I forgot how much of a monsterfucker I am 😭 here's a lil scenario I made in my head. Also since these are all headcanons, I now headcanon Willy owns a truck for the sake of convenience. Just like I headcanon Elliott's cabin is bigger and has more furniture than it actually does lol.

Also I kinda imagine merman Elliott to be slightly different from regular Elliott. Less naturally charming and more comparable to an eager to please golden retriever.

You often fish at the dock by the sea, and Elliott curiously watches you from a distance. He's wary of any humans that aren't Willy, but something about you enraptures him.

He asks Willy about you, being the only human who knows of his existence. Willy tells him what he knows about you, thinking it's sweet he has an obvious lil crush on you.

The more Elliott learns, the more he becomes obsessed. Slowly but surely, he'll work up the courage to talk to you, when it's darker out and you're the only human at the beach. If you freak out, he'll apologize profusely and try to calm you down.

Once you start talking more regularly, Elliott starts begging for you to join him in the water. He'll take it as an opportunity to cuddle you and float around with you on him like a sea otter with its baby

But soon that won't become enough for him. When you start getting more busy, he'll become upset.

What are you doing instead of spending time with him?? Who are you talking to instead of him???

He starts begging you to take him to your home with you, but of course you shut down the idea pretty quickly. He's offended and hurt, but doesn't let it show.

Then he gets an idea. If he could convince Willy to put him in the bed of his truck and drive him to your house, then everything will work out! He could easily convince him that this was already something he talked out with you beforehand.

And his plan works! He shows up on your doorstep.

Y/n:

Elliott: Hello!! :) Are you happy to see me, my love?

Y/n: You gotta be kidding me...

You reluctantly welcome him into your home, and Elliott is fascinated with everything, but most of all, you. He's clumsily crawling up the couch and pulling you into his arms, getting upset when you insist he sleeps in the bathtub.

He's also extremely fascinated with your anatomy. That's what he insists anyway, when he's being a little too touchy.

Most nights, you'll wake up with him holding you, tail wrapped around you as much as it can be, just to hold you close to him.

Whenever you leave, he either dramatically mopes or gets slightly accusatory, whether you're dating or not. As long as you reassure him, he'll let it go, but he'll always be a hater of whoever you choose to spend your time with when you both could be cuddling and watching tv with him instead.

Very fascinated with human media and inventions. Learns a lot of songs he views as romantic. 100% hums 'I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire' to you.

When you do start dating, he becomes even MORE clingy and flirtatious. Praises you for the smallest things, giving you at least a 1000 kisses a day.

Since he learns how to use phones, he's often calling Willy. Tells him to collect some seashells and drop them off while you're gone. He totally makes a necklace out of them and gives it to you, a matching one for himself to show you're officially mates now!

He's not very dangerous as a yandere already, so as a merman he'd be even less so, but he still is just as possessive and obsessive.

He has a harder time masking his creepy behavior since he's never interacted with anyone to really tell him off, nor has he witnessed others doing the same. May ask Willy for more ideas on how to woo you.

Overall, he's still a romantic and possessive/obsessive as ever. Just has much less shame as he normally would.

[angelyuji]

yandere superman headcanons

tw kidnapping, "nice" guys/incel behavior (kinda), isolation as punishment, manipulation, yandere stuff... the usual

yandere clark kent x gn!reader

diana prince is next guys I LOVE WOMEN!!! lemme know abt any tags i miss or just any other superman thoughts (yandere or not) cuz i love superman a lot

hes so big and buff and strong

hhnhsdngnnhnhnngnfhgnnngngn

sorry

ive been obsessed with superman and lois recently and i thought to myself “i need him so bad id do unspeakable things”

ALSOOOOOO have u guys seen the new superman??? ohmygodddd HELLOOO SAILOR

anyway here we go :)

sweetest kindest angel alive… at first glance

actual clark is genuinely the best sweetest guy in the world and i don’t think that would technically change but if anything he’d start buying into the incel/nice guy pills and that’s what would warp him

he’s literally sooo sweet to you (i cant get over how much a of cutie pie clark kent is)

ok pause lemme start from the beginning

when he first met you, he was e n a m o u r e d like he thinks youre the most beautiful person in the world type stuff

at first, the relationship is normal, you guys are friends, study buddies, coworkers, yk normal shit

he’s still super in love but hes kinda aware that its one-sided and he can’t make you like him

you guys are super close friends tho

but as his crush progresses, he starts to consult more than his friends and normal relationship advice, he starts to consult incel chatrooms and subreddits

he wants to go further than friendship with you, but all the guys in these chatrooms are telling him awful things abt u. for example:

‘hi! requesting help for getting out of the friendzone with my friend’ i’ve been friends with them for a long time, but i see them as more than a friend. ive had to watch as they date all these awful people and i just want them to see me more than a friend. any advice is appreciated!

– dude these ungrateful bitches are never gonna see u

– people like them never see the good guy until its too late

– u just gotta make them like u, nobody understands the nice guy until u make them

– all of these responses are so weird, just be normal and flirt a little!

ur stupid fuckign idiot nice guys don’t get a chance till u make them give u chance

women are so fucking stupid

reading all these “helpful” comments really warped his mindset

he went from innocent farm boy to incel misogynist becuz

they have to be right! like why else have u not given him the time of day as more than a friend

so soon, ur gonna notice these changes

he went from being supportive bestie to making snide comments, putting you down, making moves on you that you clearly don’t want

ur hurt, heartbroken, your friend became something unrecognizable

u’ll ask for some distance, just to think abt if u want to continue the friendship and clark will realize that he can’t make you like him from just this

so you’re gonna go home, take a nap, and next thing you know you’re getting snatched from bed by freaking superman

he genuinely believes he’s done the right thing

he’ll bring u to the fortress first. he has everything set up already, so u wont freeze or starve to death

i wont bore with the details but he would NEVER lay a hand on u

that’s NOT my superman

its more like

“i need you to eat something.” clark begs you, his eyes filled with worry. he had crouched down next to where you sat. clark had given you free-reign around his fortress, but you chose to sit in the corner near the entrance.

“fuck you.” you turn away from him, anger dripping from your voice. you haven’t eaten since he brought you to his ice castle, but you can’t remember how long ago that was. you missed home, your friends, your family. you missed freedom. you hear clark sigh.

“you’re gonna get sick if you keep going like this, (y/n).” his hand touches your face and you slap his hand away. you know there was no way you could hurt superman, but he holds his hand looking hurt, and you feel a twinge of guilt. he holds out a bag from Big Belly Burgers and places it next to you.

you scooch back, your back hitting the wall, not willing to back down. “i’ll eat if you let me go.” you feel like a child throwing a tantrum, but you would do anything to go home.

you see him rub his forehead in frustration, “this isn’t working.” he mutters to himself. you don’t say anything, wanting to see what he would do. instead of trying to fight you again, clark picks up the bag. “i’ll come back when you’re ready.” he says.

“come back? what are you talking ab-” in one blast of air, clark was gone and you were alone.

days had gone by, you felt like you were going crazy from the solitude and the hunger. thankfully, clark had left mountains of water bottles for you, so you tried to fill up with those. it wasn’t enough, you had started to miss your kidnapper’s company after many conversations with yourself. all you could do was sleep or stare at the wall, blankly. after a week, you couldn’t take the isolation. “clark?” you call out, weakly. not a moment passes before he appeared before you.

his eyes were filled with pity and worry, “are you ready, sweetheart?” his hands cup your face and you lean into the warmth, nodding.

he could never hurt you. that entire week away was killing him, but the commenters were right. you just needed to know that he was all you needed.

[tomezatos]

so like basically in the REIGEN manga tome tries so desperately to throw herself into the center of this literal Superhuman world she sees and play the role of the eager young protagonist and its so endearing but in the end reigen has to come clean and she can’t keep using the spiritual premise as a crutch. not because she was wrong to have her whimsical interests, but because the fantasy of specialness can often be an escape from the isolation a person feels due to being unable to live up to societal ideals of normalcy, and yet in the end the fantasy can itself end up feeding directly into the isolation by obscuring your view of the other people in your life. you cannot prioritize the idea of being unique or special alone and that is the reason that the power structures in the story (as represented by roshuuto in REIGEN) so frequently fail short; because actually EVERYONE is a Pathetic Freak Weirdo Nerd Loser, from the handsome, popular rich boy, to the pretentious Dark!Reigen foil who takes himself too seriously, to all of the mundane teenage girls who the audience is initially tricked into dismissing as shallow, but also by the same token EVERYONE deserves to be loved and feel supported. 

because actually bonds with other people are the most important thing, and centrally this is also why REIGEN relies so heavily on bonds with others as something to create horror. the evil spirit mimics the voices of the ones you love and lures you in and when you’re at your most lost and scared and in need, that’s when you turn around and the face of the person you trust betrays you. tome only contracts the fatal curse in the first place because she cared about reigen and went back to make amends with him. because that’s the most horrifying, most terrifying thing, the thing that renders you absolutely helpless, isn’t it? it’s letting yourself rely on others and trust them to the point that it leaves you vulnerable, isn’t it? but you have to do it, if you want to achieve true connection then you can’t continue keeping up a veneer of Specialness and posturing as someone you’re not no matter how afraid you are of being seen as your true self. that’s the idea that really connects tome and reigen above all else. you have to be who you really are and you have to trust that you’ll be loved for it. and that’s horrifying! that’s an unimaginable, Forbidden terror! but it’s necessary. 

and also I think it’s so clever how REIGEN conveys this by only bringing in shigeo kageyama, the protagonist and most recognizable character who the reader has so many preconceived notions of, in at the last moment as a terrifying ghost who is impersonating him. I mean also it’s partially because shigeo can easily be made to look scary lol, because let’s be real, he can be pretty goddamn scary /hj BUT MOSTLY it’s to have him in his uniform, in his most recognizable and iconic form that the reader will cling to, and then have it be blown away by the post-canon shigeo, the real shigeo, the shigeo who has grown and changed and is no longer stuck in the role he once was. because to be vulnerable with others you have to grow and change and do away with old pretenses and dynamics that you’ve become dependent on. it can be scary to stop playing roles after you’ve grown use to them for so long, but you don’t need them - your most honest self will be the most loved. and also I love how just like tome could tell that it was the real reigen bcause he immediately ran into a spiderweb and yelled, you can tell that it’s the real shigeo because he’s immediately rude as fuck and he and reigen literally instantly go into their mean pithy little affectionate banter lol ok sorry anyway.

and also because you cannot really be any more or less special than anyone else and you need bonds with others, it’s true both that you have to rely on other people, but also that you owe it to them to be kind. reigen is literally a normal person working in the spirit business, so he has to rely on other people with the necessary abilities, such as dimple the spirit and serizawa the psychic, yes, but he also does his part to take care of the people who matter to him. roshuuto is so focused on appearances and power - as shown by how he goes on and on about connections - but when it comes down to it, he was not willing to save others (leaving hoshido in Reliance), and so nobody bothered trying to save him in turn. he only abandoned, and was abandoned. this is shown most acutely in the end by how roshuuto “has no other option” but to pass his curse on to someone else to save himself, while reigen “has no other option” to take on a curse to save someone else. reigen and serizawa accepting their responsibility as adults to protect the children around them is an extension of the idea that you are equal to everyone and are obligated to be kind to your loved ones and recieve kindness in turn. anyway mutual trust and communication is all that matters and tome kurata is The protagonist of all time Sorry,

[yuri-is-online]

Happy Little Trees (Good timeline! Fyuutue Kid Ayuu: Rook, Vil, and Trey)

Yutu has some weird nightmares on occasion, but other than that he has a pretty good life, he thinks anyway. The only thing that could possibly make it better would be if his parents could avoid embarrassing him now that he's old enough to go to NRC like they did.

Here's hoping things are less eventful!

notes: Yeah this is like, 100% self indulgent don't look at me they/them used for Yuu, everyone say thank you to confused, he wanted a chance to see some freaks getting to be happy with their fams and yeah I agree. I've been killing my boy too much. This post features Rook, Vil, and Trey's Yutus with some guest appearances from some friends of the blog's o.c.s, archetypal-archivist and twisted x hearts. This won't make sense if you haven't read any of the ayuu, which can be found on my masterlist under the series section.

Rook! Yutu

"Oh come on it's not that bad." Roland has the audacity to sound smug when it very much is, the techwear doesn't look awful but the mere fact his brother is wearing it at all makes it hideous. "It stands out so much less than what Pomefiore has you wearing-"

"You can't wear neon blue in the woods." Yutu snorts, he wanted to yell but there's so many new sounds in the NRC forest and he doesn't feel safe making a scene just yet.

That and he feels like he is being watched, something Roland must feel too since he's making a show of being unbothered. "Right back at you with the royal purple. And don't get me started on the heels, these boots I've got are super comfy I should see if Dad knows where to get something similar for Ama."

"You are not getting our sister gamer shoes." The noise is on their left now, Yutu can make out that it is breathing. The heartbeat is too fast to be human or mer, a beastman of some sort then. Avian if Roland was in the mood to take bets. "Doesn't that bother you at all?" Roland shrugs.

"Just because my dormmates don't want to go outside doesn't mean I can't. And no before you start I'm not going to transfer, I was sort of hoping to end up where I did." He's serious, Yutu can tell by the way his brother sternly looks at him as they pause in the trail. There's logic to most everything Roland does, perhaps Yutu should have placed his emphasis on the most instead of trusting they would always be together. He wants to scream at him, but he can't do that here. Not while they have an uninvited guest.

Roland turns to move down the path so Yutu can twist into the shadows and yank their prey into the open. The beastman screams needlessly loud, Roland would have been so much worse with him but maybe he can tell that by the way his older brother is laughing.

"Hey there mon ami, didn't your parents ever tell you it's rude to eavesdrop?" Roland squats down to get closer while Yutu stands tense behind the new boy.

"Heartslabyul." He says impassively. "You win that one Ro."

"Ah do I? Nice to know." Roland makes no move to help the kid up to his feet, and doesn't move to give him room as they look down on what is undeniably a avian beastman. The colors of his hair and the long eyelashes suggest a humming bird, but the groan he lets out is far from elegant.

"Seriously? You guys suck, I was just coming to say hello." The boy rolls just enough away from Roland to sit up, seemingly unafraid in a way that unsettles Roland slightly but feels... nice to Yutu. He finds himself relaxing like he would around- well only his family up until now.

"Then why were you following us huh?" Roland slips back into his normal cheerful self, still on edge and looking at Yutu in concern. "I could have been about to say something embarrassing!"

"Then it would have been worth it!" He laughs like it is the most obvious answer in the world and not a potential crime, if Yutu was allowed to talk. "Sides I was curious, I'm Fiore! First year Heartslabyul dorm. My older brother is there too so when I saw you guys I went huh, wonder what's up with them? You're twins aren't you? So why go so opposite..." He looks over the two of them and Yutu straightens up just a bit. Roland has more muscle, the nicer more open smile. He's stronger than Yutu is, if you looked at the two of them and had to guess who was the tech guy and who was the nature one before they slipped into their uniforms you would fail.

"Well we're not twins, but we're not opposites just because we've got different houses." Roland stands up, politely keeping his eyes on Fiore but still talking to his brother. "Oli and I are two sides of the same dream. He wants everyone to see the beauty of the world in its purest form, and I want them to be able to see what he does."

"... well that's the first time I'm hearing of this." Sighs Yutu. He reaches down to help Fiore up, trying to hide his smile but not doing as well as he could from the teasing look on the humming bird's face. "Don't spook us like that again, I won't be as nice about it next time."

"Noted! I'd hate to see what mean's like shit. See you in class?"

"Yeah." Yutu waves him off as Roland puts his hands in his pockets. He looks smug. "What? Weren't you saying something about not being able to talk for me forever?"

"I meant it you know." Roland hums. "You always get upset when [parent] can't join you when you go to take pictures yeah?" Yutu breaks eye contact. Not like his emotions were ever a mystery to Roland but this was a particular sore point. "If there was a better way to keep them safe we'd all be able to have fun together! That's why I'm glad I'm in Ignihyde." He's much too proud of himself for Yutu to say thanks, or wonder if this was always the way things were going to play out or if something else was twisting this.

"... your unique magic breaks the sound barrier when you scream dude, I still don't think you belong there."

"Rude! I can control myself you know~" He does of course but still. Yutu isn't Yuu so he isn't so overwhelmed with how sweet Roland is to want to say thank you just yet.

Vil! Yutu

Sometimes Yutu is made forcibly aware of just how privileged he is and it always causes him to become deeply frustrated with his own complacency. Today for instance, he had begged his father to let him go for a ride on his bike by himself "We're on vacation! It's not like everyone knows what I look like, I'll be super careful and call immediately if something happens and I already have the map downloaded-" he was starting to wonder if maybe his parent was right and his father really was too soft on him sometimes. If he had put his foot down then he wouldn't be making a fool of himself right now.

"U-um. Are you alright?" The girl in front of him is clearly concerned, Yutu wants to say something to help calm her but something about her keeps him from speaking immediately. The thick head of golden curls, cute floppy ears and upturned nose are familiar somehow, as if he's seen them somewhere before. It would explain the overwhelming feeling of happiness and breath he takes as if he knows a name to speak before his paints fall out of the bicycle basket onto his head.

"Yeowch! I mean yes sorry ha ha ha." He untangles himself and his bike from the grassy field he had accidentally veered into and rights it before looking around to make sure he has everything he came with. Thank goodness he didn't bring his good brushes, he'd cry if he broke those. "I didn't hurt you did I? I'm so sorry I wasn't paying attention to the road and-"

"Oh no no, I jumped out of the way just in time." She laughs with a slight snort that settles Yutu's nerves. If she is able to laugh then she's ok, what a relief. "I'm Henrietta by the way," she holds out a hand and Yutu gladly shakes it, "Henrietta Wendimeere, but you can call me Henry!"

"Nice to meet you! I'm-" Oh this part was always hard. Father never stumbled through these things and encouraged him to do the same but still. "I'm Yutu! My family's on vacation in the Queendom so I wanted to try and paint some of the scenery but well. I'm not as good as navigating as I thought apparently."

"Yeah the Queendom isn't laid out in the most obvious way." Henry sits herself on the fence Yutu crashed into as he leans on his bike idly. "At least that's what my mom says, you just have to get used to it after a while." She twists the fabric of her dress, the fairest queen's purple, Yutu notes the shade with a smile. "Sorry about scaring you by the way, I was waiting for someone and thought maybe-"

"Oh no worries! Like I said I wasn't paying attention." He is now though, he hears someone yelling his name just up the hill and he sighs. "Hey do you mind if I give you my number?" Henry looks surprised and Yutu silently curses, both himself and the person yelling, louder now because clearly if he had heard he would be there already. "I feel bad about almost running you over, let me make it up to you before I leave yeah?"

"S-sure." She stammers and Yutu scribbles on a sheet of his sketchbook paper and tosses it as he scrambles back up towards the hill.

"Thanks a ton for being so chill about this! If my sister doesn't kill me I'll be sure to be in touch! Don't be a stranger yeah?" And just like a vision of the future he's gone again, just alive and happy this time.

"Yeah. Don't be a stranger, Yutu."

Trey! Yutu (ft. Yutres and Yushi)

"C'mon~" Yushi swirls the beverage under Thrush's nose with a big grin on her face. "You like this sort of stuff, yeah?"

"That," he sighs "is without a doubt the most offensive thing I have ever been asked."

"Oh?" She pulls back the cup in mock surprise. "I guess I'll just go give this to Fiore the-"

"Absolutely not." Thrush snatches the drink and fiddles with the straw as Yutu sighs. "Seriously Yutu just what did you tell your sisters? If I didn't know any better I swear they were trying to poison me."

"Sorry, if you don't like it I'll get you something else." Yutu smiles apologetically as Yushi kicks him for not denying the poisoning bit. He doesn't blame his friend though, not really. Between his dad asking him and Fiore questions about what their teeth were like and the amount of sweets Yutres had wanted opinions on its little wonder if Thrush and Fiore were feeling a little overwhelmed. Still, it wasn't like either of them had said they were never going to talk to him ever again after this, and if Fiore shared his brothers opinions he hadn't shown any hesitation when Yutres asked him to play whatever board game they had hauled out of the boba shops shelves.

"Well? Whatdya think?" Yushi asks eagerly. "I picked one made mostly with fruit, is it any good?"

"It's way too sweet." Fiore says, chewing on the lychee jelly impassively. "But I can't stop drinking it how weird." It's not the answer she wants clearly, but a simple adjustment of their dad's glasses is enough to quiet anymore needling questions.

"That's just how those sorts of drinks tends to be." Trey chuckles. "It probably would taste better to you if it didn't have as much green tea in it." Surprisingly Fiore nods.

"Yeah I thought there was something a bit off about it, you think about this sort of stuff a lot don't you Mr. Clover."

"Ah well I do like to do more than just bake, no matter what some people-" Yushi rolls her eyes "say." Yutu's phone lights up with a notification and he hears his dad laugh before he can check it himself. "Ah I'll leave you kids to have fun. Just make sure to let me or Yuu know if you plan on going somewhere else after this."

"Seriously [parent] wants that?" Yushi snorts and puts her back in her pocket. "You should get them something more exciting."

"Nah don't listen to her Mr. Clover." Despite his earlier protests, Thrush hasn't exactly stopped drinking his tea, there's an alarmingly little amount left for something that didn't taste good. "She just wants to start experimenting on Yuu next."

"Ah she does that already." Laughs Trey ignoring Yushi's whiny protests. "It is fun to tease but all good things in moderation." And with that he's gone. Yushi slithers off to bother Yutres and Fiore leaving Thrush and Yutu in the booth watching their younger siblings.

"You got anywhere you want to go?" Thrush asks, unlocking his phone to look at what's around without much urgency. "I didn't look too many things up, Fiore might've but he didn't mention anything."

"Eh there's some shops if you want some souvenirs for your parents. And bakeries but dad might kill us if we send you back with other people's stuff." Yutu's mostly joking and Thrush knows from the way he laughs and rolls his eyes.

"You guys suck you know that?" And he does. He says it himself when describing his family and so does Thrush in that laughing way that shows neither of them really mean it. It's nice, there really is nothing to care about other than what sort of nightmare Crewel will have for them when they get back to school and Yutu accidentally calls him grandpa again. He really hopes this strange feeling of joy he gets when he sees his family together with his friends never goes away, it makes almost everything he does worth it.

[jacenbren]

Deeply fucking unsettling things about the Honored One himself, Satoru Gojo

Thanks to his ability to fuck with gravity, you put him in a blank, empty room with identical walls, floor, and ceiling with no doors or windows, he'll quickly lose track of which way is up. Realistically this situation would probably never happen, but the concept freaks him out ever since Geto made a joke about it once.

Gojo's body maintains a perfect thermodynamic equilibrium, making his skin creepily cool to the touch. He can go out in a blizzard with shorts on, and between that and Infinity, he'd be perfectly fine. It makes for a cool party trick, because he can stick his hand in a candle flame or put cigarettes out on his arms with no ill effects.

He's unsettlingly clean at all times, because dirt can't touch him. Gojo hasn't needed to use stain remover on his uniform in years.

He quite literally has six eyes. He keeps four of them shut and all of them hidden most of the time, though, because a) looking into all six at once would liquefy the brain of your average human, and b) his Six Eyes are constantly feeding unfathomable amounts of information into his brain every second. Even with his tolerance to his powers and mastery of the reverse curse technique, there's only so much stimuli a human brain can process without completely shutting down, and Gojo doesn't want to find out what that'll do to him--in a nutshell, just because he can see things that mankind can't even hope to comprehend doesn't mean he wants to.

He can perceive the entire electromagnetic spectrum, meaning he can see shrimp colors. Everyone else desperately wants him to describe the shrimp colors. Gojo continues to smugly refuse.

Because of his reverse curse technique constantly refreshing and regenerating his body, he just. doesn't really need to eat anymore. or drink. or even breathe. His body is basically frozen at peak physical condition, and it's very likely that he is functionally immortal.

Sometimes, Gojo forgets what pain feels like, because nothing can touch him. Pain feels almost like pleasure to him, because nothing can hurt him. Nothing can even touch him, and Gojo has secretly developed a perverted interest in seeing how badly he can mutilate himself before he's forced to reengage his technique and heal.

Gojo can bend and contort himself in ways that aren't humanly possible, run faster and farther and lift heavier objects than anyone alive, because his body can repair itself almost as fast as it's damaged, depending on how severe the injury. Basically, he has permanent hysterical strength, letting him push his body past its limits to perform feats that would kill a normal human with no ill effects.

Gojo doesn't sleep. He literally can't unless he releases his technique, because his body is constantly being refreshed and doesn't need to shut down. Oh well, it's for the better. He's most vulnerable while he's sleeping anyway, and it opens up his schedule by a lot.

His teeth grow now, almost like a rodent's. He has to file them down to be able to open and close his mouth properly, along with much more frequent trimming of his hair and nails.

His skin is oddly smooth, and unnaturally pristine. Gojo hasn't recieved a single scar since Toji sliced him open, and all the ones he'd recieved before are healed flawlessly at this point. His hands are so soft they make it look like he hasn't fought a day in his life, because calluses aren't able to form anymore.

Gojo's been around the world countless times now. He can go wherever he wants with a thought; the only cost is his sanity. Warping himself across the Pacific for lunch in San Francisco is fun, but he can only do it a few times a week if he doesn't want to have another... ah, episode.

These episodes involve blackouts, gaps in his memory where his powers manage to slip their leashes from overuse and literally short-circuit his brain. He's only had a few so far, and every time, he wakes up in the infirmary completely unscathed, with blood all over his clothes and an awful fucking migraine. Nobody knows what happens or where he goes, and all Shoko's been able to tell him is that when it happens, he seems to go into a giddy fugue before blasting his way out of the compound and vanishing for anywhere from days to weeks. Gojo's absolutely terrified of these episodes, because he's wholly aware that if he lost it for real, nobody would be able to stop him.

He looks human enough, but if you look closer, he quickly starts to set off the uncanny valley effect. It's like a wolf in sheep's clothing--because you know how dangerous he is, even though he appears relatively harmless at first. Everyone who meets him has the same fear response clawing at the back of their mind as their hindbrain screams at them to fucking run, because Gojo is an apex predator in the body of a prey animal. His very presence awakens primal fear that's been entrenched in every human since the dawn of time--the fear of things that go bump in the night, of cosmic horrors beyond what mankind can even hope to comprehend.

His eyes glow all the time now, and the energy crackling in the air around him feels like the static that comes before a lightning strike. Satoru Gojo is insistent that he's still human even though he's the strongest, but... is he, really?

[dumbcopyc4t]

good girls go bad!

2.37k words

everybody in this world has their thing, some like to draw, others like paint. eren jaeger liked to believe he had many things, things he thought to be normal that most if not all would find to put it lightly.. strange.

not to be blunt but if you asked anybody from the dimly lit house party what eren jeagers specific thing was they'd all tell you the same thing.

sex.

you wouldn't even have to sleep with the guy to know how good he was in bed, every girl that comes stumbling from a random room on wobbling legs was most definitely proof enough.

this was NOT your scene. you stood there stiff in the corner, red solo cup in hand, surrounded by your five girlfriends who simply wouldn't take no for an answer.

they knew you'd follow the rules, the rules that your father had put in place when he shipped you off halfway across the state.

the silver purity ring on your finger hit the cup to the rhythm of the music as you slightly bopped your head.

that very ring a tall brunette had his eyes on all night. the man had been watching you since his body hit the sticky leather of the wore down couch. when your eyes flicked across the room his would immediately drop down to his own ring clad fingers picking at the arm rest.

"come onnn (❤︎︎), just a few shots. you need to loosen up anyway!" your closest friend sasha drags you across the scene leaving the other group of girls to their own devices.

begrudgingly you trek behind her, pulling down that itty bitty denim skirt the girls forced you to purchase 'just in case'.

she spots connie leaning against the marble of the kitchen island all by himself. suddenly she's flinging herself into his arms seaming already drunk off of whatever pungent liquid was mixed up in her now forgotten solo cup.

"well if it isn't my favorite little munchkin," she squeals when he drops her back down. "my friend here is in dire need of whatever you could pour into a shot glass, stat!"

connie smiles at her opting not to say much knowing his words would be slurred. red eyes scan you quickly as if he was pondering what bitter beverage he could give you to loosen you up fast.

you stood close behind sasha watching connie line up six plastic shot cups before pouring a glass bottle of clear liquor (to the brim) of each cup. being the gentleman he was he opens the cooler by his foot pulling out two mini can of pinapple juice.

snatching a shot for himself he tosses it back with a grimace and a quick head shake then walks off giving you a look of good luck.

"two for me, three for you." she hands you the can and pulls you to stand by her. taking a deep breath through your nose you grab each shot one by one and then chase them with the juice. it's almost embarrassing how loud you gagged from the tingle in the back of your throat.

"good?" she laughs at your struggle and you shoot her a glare. "what do you think sash??"

you look back over your shoulder to see that your friend group had dispersed among themselves with fellow party goers, unsurprisingly. lucky for them you made everyone share locations before even coming here AND gave them the major stranger danger safety run down.

what's even more embarrassing is how within the span of five minutes you feel every nerve slip into a relaxed state, the crease of you brow is replaced with a content, one would say- happy expression.

the first sound of ' freak hoe' is played full blast and it's like a flash flood of nearly every girl in the party racing towards the ¿dance floor?. but not only were the girls rushing through, but the guys too. either trying to stop their girls from showing out or simply tryna catch what was being thrown.

you and sasha being part of the crowd  followed not far behind. and wherever you went green hooded eyes followed in suit.

in most cases you weren't one to show you in private let alone in public, but before you left the comfort of your dormitory the girls showed you a step by step tutorial on basic "ass shaking."

good for you that you comprehension skills are a-1 because in no time you were throwing it all around the world, my god would you regret this in the morning. sasha being there was extremely handy in making sure your skirt didn't ride up to the point where nothing was left to the imagination.

and boy oh boy did eren have a good one. zoning out on you and that stupid silver band circling your ring finger. he suddenly snaps into reality when a man, a random, tries to catch what he claimed for the night.

eren is quicker, his stride longer. you feel him before you see him. his presence is great. big almost. his scent woodsy and minty with a linger smell of weed. intoxicating.

sasha give you a look once the song is over and made into something that can be danced to in a slow grind. you smile and wink she takes the hint and scurry off to find her baldheaded best friend.

the man behind you leans forward and your automatically enticed by the eyes. bright and green but low and lidded. your arms reach you around his neck and tangle in the hair on his nape, the weight of his bun resting there as well.

on the other hand(s) his are traveling down your side and to the opening of your blouse. you stop him, turning to face him only to be met with a broad chest. . looking up to see a man more striking the a god themself, he grins small and sexy. you look more beautiful up close, he can't help the lump twitching against his thigh in this black cargos.

he also can help but notice the way you scan his face all doe like, he lets you drink him in even with the heavy bass pumping throughout both your bodies.

finally you breathe out a simple "hi." shuttering cause you feel his eyes on your lips, then the drop lower to the star sign necklace sitting on your collar bone.

you move before him, grabbing him by the collar of his black tee. hell- it was just as shocking to you as it was him wondering where in the world you got all this confidence from.

"hey." he mutters against your lips before reciprocating the kiss. it's desperate on your end and controlled on his, like trying to pull an elephant with a rope. you whine into his mouth and he can't help but puff out a breath of laughter.

he pulls back and you can't help but chase him. "bathroom?" he looks you dead in your eyes already tipsy on just a taste of what this man can give you. you nod at a flashes pace when you feel the not so subtle pulse down below. and just like that the two of you are off, him shielding you from the sea of sweaty bodies. you pass sasha and connie once more making direct eye contact with her.

her jaw drops hard. she turns to connie who lifts his hand to close her mouth, who mumbles something about hot breath.

eren waste no time knowing exactly where the first floor washroom is. another man stumbles his way towards the door and earns a palm to the face and a rough shove by eren.

he locks the door quickly before the complaints start and shoves your lower back against the sink capturing you in another mind numbing kiss. the cold thin metal of your ring stings his skin when you cup his handsome face, and he groans deep and long. rutting his chub against your thigh.

he breaks first spinning you around so that you're facing the mirror. lips swollen, eyes glassy, and edges starting to lift, eren wants to devour you. eat you whole.

he leans into you pushing his weight on your back. wet open mouth kisses from the junction of your shoulder all the way up to your ear and he huffs out "eren."

lost in the sensation you hum at him choking back a moan when he reaches under that god forsaken skirt and he barely applies pressure to your panties. and yet here they are soak down.

"my name, eren. remember it." he muttered to you taking pleasure in watch you quiver like a leaf over a thumb. just as sudden as it came his hand was ripped away away. hiking up your skirt he pulls your panties down, and spreads.

"my god," he sighed. nothing in this world could prepare him for the sight that beholds him. sticky, wet folds make a slick noise as he thumbs through them. he watches you twitch and arch your back, in an instant he drops down to his knees.

"just nasty," he commented before dropping to his knees shoving his face in your cunt. his mouth automatically finds your clit and he sucks. that sharp nose of his nudging against your clenching hole. and then- he takes in a sharp breath through his nose eye scrolling to the back of his skull.

you've lost all support opting to rest your forehead on the mirror while eren sucks on you pussy like a starved man. it's so much, it's too much. he's sloppy with it, fluids dripping down from his mouth, to his chin, onto his shirt. all you can do is moan.

"ugh -god! eren! eren!" you sob, he slurps. its all so good.

"you're cumming? come on pretty, cum on my fucking tongue." he envelopes you whole and shoves his tongue in repeatedly over and over until you scream.

"shit - eren im fucking cumming!" and you do. hard. but he keeps going not wasting a drop of your release. gasping for some air, hunched over the sink, panties down by your knocking shaking knees, you feel it.

hard, long, heavy, and thick against your lower back you didn't even realize he had dropped his cargos and boxers just below his fat balls. 8 inches of man ready and waiting.

he see you lifting yourself up and he decides you had enough time to recover. his slides his tip an angry shade of red, through your sensitive folds and then pushes in slow.

quickly he grabs his base hard and squeezes. "shit-" he stills, taking a deep breath. "s'fucking tight." he comments rubbing on your swollen clit making you shudder. "loosen up dollface, let me in." his brows furrowed as he watches you biting into the fabric of your sleeve. you’re holding back and he knows it. he knows he's big, and he knows you can take it.

in one swift motion he bottoms out and you cry. cry so loud you could stop the party. his 'thrust' shallow but oh so deep, fat tip nudging right against your cervix.

"o-oh fuck FUCK!" you wail clenching on him hard as you orgasm. "atta girl, there she is." he grins big and bright. "feels good don't it? you love cummin' on me dontcha, princess?" he hisses, reeling his hips back and he pounds into you.

"s-shit, you're soo g-oodd!" you wailed to him, your tits bouncing out that stupid stuffy blouse. he wants to see more, to feel more. his fingers scoop you up by the neck. damp back pulled to his wet chest, and he squeezes. the feeling of his hand even resting on your throat was delicious - but this.

this was different. "e-erenn! jesus f-fucking christ! m'cummin, m'cummin!" you gasp out hand wrapping around his and choking you harder. his eyes widen green eyes nearly black and gives a wild smile at your fucked out expression. "you filthy little thing, you like being choked dont ya? what would yer daddy say if he found you his dollface little girl was slutting herself out for me ,hm?"

you feel it, right there in your gut, hot desire flooding from your pussy all onto the floor in streams of clear liquid. your cheeks are red from the lack of oxygen. his thrust get harder but you can feel eren tensing. another brutal thrust and he grunts deep and sexy. "fuck baby." he fucks himself through his high just using your sloppy cunt to his will. his grip on you throat is released and that has you doubling over gasping for sweet oxygen.

jeager relishes the feeling of your walls clamping on him till he decides enough is enough. he pulls out and in an instant thick, creamy globs of cum plop down onto your soaked down underwear.

leaning down once more he come face of face with your fucked out pussy and licks the mixture of bodily fluids. this makes you jolt and then he presses a delicate kiss to you clit. contradicting his actions he sents a hard smack to your ass cheek. eren groans taking a look at the mess you both made on the floor and yourselves. he just grabs and decorative towels hanging above the toilet, wiping himself off and then throwing it on the floor to soak up any liquid.

then he hands you a pitiful piece of tissue paper to clean yourself off. but before you can start he's distracting you with kisses to your earlobe, he grabs your hand and suddenly your finger is feeling .. lighter.

you spoke out to confront him but he slips back out into the world leaving you stranded and confused.

also with an empty finger. bummer, he didn't even catch your name..

[judasgot-it]

Ello o/, may i request again (dk if i can tho, don't feel pressured if not maken), really love the post you made for the request my heart literally- aawkwkw, i have so many things to say to that post but really busy asfck like if i wnated to, i could literally write a essay or thesis statement, */ahem anyway

BSD boys, while having a fighting/argument with s/o they suddenly grip they're s/o's wrist too hard and ended up leaving a mark (they didn't mean to tho ;-;) that reminded the reader's past child abuse/not used to this type of conflict which lead to angst to comfort or just angst hehe. Idk this is just a random 2am thought(my time rn) I have classes later waking up at 4am too…

AHHHHHH omg yes I'm so sorry I haven't like set up any request rules yet which I should do lol, but I'm so shehejwj but I don't have limits on requests! I just try to get to them when I can &lt;3 Also I'm so sorry about the late response! College is hard x[

But also, I wanna do some scenarios for this, so I'm gonna have to only pick a few that I feel I can write the best for this if that's ok cause ngl I feel the mercury retrograde rn,,,

Scenario: Accidentally triggering past abuse/trauma during an argument (Ranpo, Dazai)

Ranpo

Ranpo was a rather loud guy. That's not his fault, since he's only loud whenever he has a reason to be - he's confident because he knows he can get away with it. He's smart enough to survive some of the most dangerous killers, and is bold enough to laugh in their face about it too.

But god is it aggravating as hell whenever you want to truly talk to the man one on one. Sometimes, you just want to have a normal date with him - like a normal couple and do normal couple stuff.

Like right now, you just want to walk down this busy street and not have to listen to him boast about how stupid people were. It was embarrassing how loud he was about it, how the person who got hit with a car could have easily avoided it had they just checked both sides of the street.

A normal conversation to have after witnesses a horrible event, but you could feel the stares from across the street from the mans wife. Especially towards Ranpo, who seemed to have no social boundaries as everyone else in the area seemed to instead be occupied with the normal human behavior of freaking out after witnessing a man flying in the air and being hit by a car.

To save face, you dragged him away, with him still talking about it as if it were a normal everyday thing. In his world, it probably was - but not to you. Not to normal people, who didn't think about death everyday.

"Ranpo, you need to quiet down."

"What? I'm just saying. It was pretty avoidable you know?"

You turned around to glare at him, gripping your enclasped hands tightly. He thought nothing of it, swirling his ramune bottle rather casually. The ball clinked around with each step the both of you took together.

"I know that. But you do know that it's pretty insensitive to say that in front of him and the wife who saw her husband get hit with a car."

"Y/n."

You were forced back as Ranpo stopped on the sidewalk. It was apart of a narrow stretch of road, empty and away from the commotion, which forced you to look at him. He was staring at you with his eyes, as if trying to puzzle something.

"You don't actually care about them."

There was a pause. You blinked once. Then twice.

"What do you mean by that?"

He held your hand tighter, almost painfully so.

"You don't really care about them that much. So why are you defending them?"

His viridian eyes bore into yours, which deeply unsettled you. He meant nothing by it, especially with the iron grip he had on your hand which kept you in your spot.

"Because not everyone is a superfreak like you Ranpo!"

But it made you incredibly uncomfortable.

You felt the need to defend yourself, somehow.

"Some people have 'empathy' which I know is a foreign concept to people like you."

It was as he cocked his head to the side, like a crow trying to understand what you had just told him. It was as if what you just said had gone right through him, like the wind.

"You don't mean that."

He pulled you towards him. You tried to step back, but you only found yourself stepping around and trying to find your balance again.

You flinched when Ranpo reached to balance you, but you still felt the energy from your sudden bout of frustration pumping through your body. It was embarrassing, but your mind and body were reacting all on their own.

Ranpo kept staring at you, looking past your angry scowl and into something deeper.

"I'm not your enemy Y/n, I know you're upset but there's something more."

He left you feeling naked there.

"It's not that deep. You don't need to defend yourself against me."

You looked down, avoiding his eyes. The sidewalk underneath you was rather cracked and abandoned - there was a dandelion growing just underneath your feet, a rather resilient flower.

"I'm not defending myself, I'm just..."

Ranpo lifted your chin up so you could meet his eyes again, which were now softer, as they had quickly figured out the puzzle that he's struggled with.

You looked back at him. A part of you wanted to keep arguing - it was in your nature, to keep fighting. Unfortunately, it was something you've done for a long time, which Ranpo has figured out by now.

Another thing that made you feel a little uncomfortable.

He met you with a cheeky smile, like a little rat. He closed his eyes, his cheeks raising to meet his eyes.

"I know. You're a good person Y/n."

Dazai

"I just don't think you understand. I can't expect you to, but it's not your problem, so why are you so upset about it?"

Dazai was looking at you from the couch, watching as you were once again picking up bottles he had left from one of his drinking binges. He still smelled of last night, wearing the same clothes and smelling of the various drinks he had lost himself in.

"It clearly is my problem. I'm the one cleaning up your mess right now, so how could I not be involved? Dear god, do you ever look at yourself and want to even try to be better?"

Dazai looked at you, sitting up from his previous lounging position. He stared up, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at you - his eyebags prominent in the early morning sunlight.

"What do you mean 'try' to be better? Have you ever even known what it's like to be like this?"

You rolled your eyes, dragging the bag to the front door so you could later bring it to the dumpster of your apartments. In your eyes, he was clearly being dramatic - sitting like some sort of mafioso, needing only a cigarette to seal the deal.

"Everyone has had it hard at one point Dazai. Losing yourself to alcohol every night and weekend doesn't justify it. You have a life to live you know? It's worth living."

You heard footsteps approach behind you, and looked up to see Dazai standing a little too close for comfort. His body was warm, and you could see the sweat and stains on his bandages. His hair was usually fluffy hair was greasy, but his eyes - they were dark, simply staring down at you.

"What do you know about living?"

"What?"

He had backed you into the wall, his hands now on either side of you, blocking you from exiting the danger that had become him and whatever emotional rage he had thrown himself into.

"You act like you know so much about life but you know nothing! You don't know anything about death or life - I don't think you know anything at all really. You feel all too comfortable making these assumptions about me when you don't know who I am, do you?"

He was smiling but it didn't reach his eyes at all.

You pushed at him, trying to find space to escape from his hold. His clothes and warmth made you want to burn your skin and run at that moment, and you closed your eyes in order to avoid the worst of your fears as you knew he was staring at you with those eyes that seemed to hold nothing but contempt in that very moment.

When you couldn't break free, instead feeling him pressing himself more against you, you felt your eyes begin to tear up.

"Dazai get the fuck away me."

"Or what? What will you do, oh sweet belladonna?"

You could feel tears build up in your eyes as your pushing did nothing against him - so you resorted to what you knew would work.

You raised your knee as hard as you could, and watched as Dazai fell hard on the ground, falling like a sack of potatoes. He writhed around, clutching his pearls while you gripped your pants, trying to soothe your nerves.

"Dazai I'm..."

You looked around your apartment, looking at the mess that it had become because of him. You looked back down at him, who was still on the ground and wasn't saying anything.

"Dazai I'm going to leave for a bit. Sorry."

I'm so sorry this took so long waaaaahh I'm a slow writer I'm working on it tho ;( also I was thinking about doing Jouno but I felt that it would've been super harsh so maybe I'll do him another time

[plus-size-reader]

Sweetheart

Horrorfest 2023

Charlie Walker x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2658 words

Warnings: none really. Just a little horror talk.

At the request of @armyangxls Hope you enjoy it love!

Summary: Inviting Charlie over when the murders start so you don't have to be alone.

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You had always loved a night in.

Whether it was a cozy night spent snuggled up with a blanket and a good book, or a new release of a gory slasher you’d been anxiously waiting to get your hands on, it felt like there was nothing better in the world than being home. 

…but you had to admit that there was one thing that topped even your favorite at-home activity. 

Cinema Club. 

Which, while admittedly only being adjacent to what you’d be doing anyway, did offer the occasional change of scenery that you grew to greatly appreciate. ‘

The Woodsboro High School Cinema Club was the one place in the world where the film geeks and creatives at your school could come together to co-exist, which had been more than enough to draw you in. 

You had always loved movies as a means of expression and any opportunity to talk about them with people who enjoyed them just as much was too good to pass up. 

That wasn’t what really sealed the deal for you though. 

What kept you coming back to that mismatched group of nerds was the underbelly of Cinema Club, comprised of all the horror fanatics and true crime junkies of Woodsboro, who came to get together and discuss some of their favorite aspects of the genre. 

In a town so famous for its own serial killer, there was little open discussion about any aspect, which had never sat right with you.

After all, everyone on planet Earth had seen at least one of the “Stab” films, and still, most of Woodsboro’s residents actively chose to live in a delusion. 

That was what made Cinema Club so compelling, and its president along with it. 

Charlie Walker, or the King of the Freaks as you’d taken to calling him in the comfort of your own mind, was a huge film buff and one of the only people whose love of horror seemed to rival your own. 

He was clever and had a lot of interesting theories about a lot of different things, the Stab franchise and the events that inspired it chief among them. In fact, in the years you’d been attending his club, you’d 

spent several evenings heatedly debating over which slasher was the best or which classic horror trope you’d choose given the option. 

In a lot of ways, he was one of the only people you felt seen by in that way, and eventually, you formed quite an attachment to the man, even if you’d never acted on it. 

Maybe that was why you’d called him. 

It had really come out of left field, and you had never reached out to him before in your life outside of occasionally asking him about a point of contention within the horror community or to get his opinion on something.

You couldn’t even say that you were friends, but that didn’t change the fact that when you got the news that someone wearing a Ghostface mask was running around cutting people up, your first thought had been of Charlie.

It was only natural. 

You were going to be home all night long by yourself, and while that was normally your idea of a fantastic night, it seemed foolish to be alone like a sitting duck all night, hoping you wouldn’t run into a killer. 

After all, Ghostface was a legend around this town and you weren’t about to underestimate what someone could be capable of once they put on that mask.

It seemed right to be afraid, at first. 

Though, now that you were sitting in the dark waiting for Charlie to show up, you were starting to doubt yourself. Would he think you were a huge loser for bothering him over something so arbitrary? Was he doing something when you called? 

If he were, you figured he would have turned you down instead of telling you he’d be at your house in fifteen, but that didn’t mean he didn’t think you were lame. 

God, you were lame, weren’t you? 

You started to sigh, debating whether or not you should just call Charlie and tell him not to bother, but you didn’t get the chance before a loud banging on your front door nearly sent you flying out of your seat. 

Your first instinct was to grab a kitchen knife and take it with you, sort of like how Casey’s character had in the opening scene of the first stab, but you quickly abandoned that idea. 

It hadn’t helped her, and you were sure it wouldn’t prove any more useful for you now. 

“Charlie? Is that you?” you called out, letting your careful footsteps carry you toward the door, without bothering to turn on a light. If it wasn’t him, you didn’t need whoever was out there knowing exactly where you were. 

Briefly, you felt a flash of heat wash over you at how embarrassing this would be if it was Charlie at the door, only to once again have that ice prick at your spine at the even worse possibility that he hadn’t left his house yet. 

What would you do if this was the killer at your door? If you opened it and found that haunting face staring back at you in the pitch dark?

You weren’t sure. 

“You alive in there, sweetheart? I brought popcorn”

All at once, relief flooded you as you took in the voice through the door. It was muffled, sure, but even if you weren’t entirely sure it was Charlie waiting for you, you were confident Ghostface didn’t use pet names like that on his victims. 

“Yeah, I’m good” you assured, pulling open the door to find none other than Charlie Walker standing there, that brown mop of hair falling in his face as he turned to meet your face. 

You weren’t entirely sure what he’d been watching out by the street, but in all honesty, you didn’t even question it. You were so glad to not be alone, especially after that scare, you weren’t even sure you’d processed it, even if he told you.

Proven further when he grinned at you like you’d missed something important. 

“I said, can I come in? I don’t think it’s safe to spend all night in the open doorway” Charlie hummed, making it clear that he was teasing you, which you nearly bristled at. Perhaps, if he’d been anyone else, you would have. 

That was the thing about Charlie though, even when he was poking fun at you, it never felt mean-spirited or cruel, and you appreciated that. 

You had always been a little hard to get to know, and even harder to get along with, but he didn’t even bat an eye at your slightly more reserved nature or casual obsession with grisly crimes and imagery. 

He never made you feel bad, or less than you were. 

“Sure. Come on in,” you suggested finally, taking a brief beat to collect yourself from the very hectic last 2 minutes. 

“Sorry, I feel like this is super weird. I just didn’t want to be alone tonight” you tried, hoping that sounded less pathetic out loud than it did when it reached your ears. 

It would be a lie to say that you’d never thought about having Charlie over, but never had it been under these circumstances, and never had it been this awkward. 

He must have thought you were a freak. 

“No worries. I was just going to spend it with Robbie and trust me, you’re much better company” he assured, watching casually as you closed and latched your front door and turned back to him, visibly relieved. 

He was telling you the truth. 

Given the choice, he would most certainly like to spend time with a pretty girl over the same guy he’d been attached to since grade school. After all, you’d made it clear when you called that you didn’t want to be alone. 

,,,and that you needed someone to look after you. 

Charlie was more than happy to be that someone, and he could protect you if he had to, especially from Ghostface.

“I don’t know about that. Robbie seems like a pretty good time” you countered, trying to joke back with him without it being weird, though he didn’t bother to respond to that. Instead, he followed you into your living room and helped himself to your couch. 

When you’d invited him over, you hadn’t really considered what you’d do to pass the time, but given the pretense for how you knew one another, and the Jiffy pop Charlie had brought, it didn’t seem too far off to put in a movie. 

“I was thinking about watching Stab 2 before I called you,” you prompted, assuming that Charlie would either agree or disagree rather quickly after the suggestion. 

You knew the President of Cinema Club to be a lot of things, but soft-spoken had never been one of them. 

“Sounds good to me”  

This room was one you’d set foot in at least once every day for most of your life, but it wasn’t the warm, inviting space it normally was, at least not with Charlie present. Under his watchful eye, you almost felt as if the air itself was popping with energy.

However, when you once again peeked at him and took in his composure, you realized that nervous energy was actually just buzzing under your skin. 

“The kill in the opening scene of this one is one of my favorite of the franchise. I think the practical effects are so well done,” you hummed, relaxing only slightly as the welcoming score to Stab 2 filled your ears.

The title screen flashed in black and green, a few choppy chase scenes from the middle of the movie playing on repeat while the music blared, and you ate it up just like you did every time. 

It was probably one of your favorite movies of all time, and without even thinking, you sat down next to Charlie, though you kept distance both between your bodies and between you and the back of the couch. 

“The gore in the first movie was more experimental, but I think by this one, they were more confident and knew just how far they could take all the body horror” 

Charlie hummed again, listening to you as you talked with more enthusiasm than he’d ever seen from you during club meetings. 

You participated in discussions, of course, but it was always  more muted and careful. Like, you were constantly worried someone would think you took it too far or crossed some line you weren’t sure existed. 

It was nice to watch you drop all the pretence for once and just enjoy something that clearly meant a lot to the both of you. 

“But, did you know that guy actually burst an eardrum getting stabbed like that, even with a prop knife?” he spoke up, pointing out one of his own fun facts. 

You didn’t, but you could believe it. 

The force that had to go behind something like that, even when it wasn’t real, had to be super intense and you couldn’t imagine being on the receiving end of it, something you apparently said out loud, given Charlie’s face. 

“I don’t know. It might not be that bad, it would take forever though” he allowed, further shocking you as you processed both what he’d said and the fact that you’d accidentally just been way weirder than you’d meant to. 

You stopped, abandoning the movie fully now and turning to face where he’d been sitting, watching your reactions more than the movie itself. 

“What would take forever? Getting stabbed?” you questioned, only partially aware of what you may have asked him in your adrenaline-fueled haze. You couldn’t imagine it took too long from start to finish if you were being honest. 

Charlie scoffed, though it was more of a laugh than anything concrete or mocking, “No, bleeding out from a wound like that. It would take way longer than you’d think” he explained, with a casual shrug. 

You believed him. 

This wouldn’t be the first time he’d shared a strange or unexpected fact with you about something like that, and you certainly didn’t want to question him. Though, you did find yourself glancing toward the door and windows absently. 

When you two had discussed this before, it was always in a well-lit room full of people, but this was much more intimate…and ominous. 

After all, someone had just been stabbed to death yesterday in their home, and you didn’t like the idea of just how long it had taken them to bleed out. 

“Sorry. That’s in bad taste, huh?” Charlie tried, finding the joy he’d gotten from watching you excited coldly replaced with your discomfort, or fear, more likely. “Don’t worry, I got you” he assured, his gaze shifting from the side of your face to your hand.

You were holding the couch cushion lightly in your fist, almost as if it would keep you safe, and that just wouldn’t do. 

Not while he was right here, waiting to comfort you. 

“Nobody’s gonna get you” His words were soft, near a whisper as he focused on gathering his courage and finally made his move, reaching out to take your hand in his own. 

The action made you shift, and rather than falling off the edge of the couch onto the floor, you leaned back, closer to where Charlie was already situated. 

“I just can’t imagine what that’s like” you allowed, steeling your own nerves and meeting his eyes, which subsequently sent a kaleidoscope of butterflies into your gut. 

The topic was grim, and you both knew that, but for such a nasty conversation, you were feeling anything but disturbed. It would have been hard to be, with him looking at you like that, his thumb stroking your wrist gently. 

“You are never going to find out. I can promise you that” Charlie spoke again, more earnest now than you ever could have predicted.

It wasn’t something he could promise, you knew that, but that didn’t make it any less reassuring. 

“Charlie?” 

He hummed, never breaking eye contact with you, not even shifting even as you blinked away, your gaze flicking momentarily to the third death scene playing out on screen.

“This seems like a pretty good time to mention that I have a little bit of a crush on you” you mentally cursed yourself for how small you sounded, but not for long before you had to confront the feeling of Charlie’s mouth against your own in a bruising kiss. 

He had been waiting with bated breath to see which one of you would get the chance to confess first, and while he didn’t think it would be you, he couldn’t be happier regardless. 

The kiss lasted for quite some time, with Charlie only pulling away just long enough to fully close the gap you’d been keeping between your bodies this entire time.

“I’m so glad you called me” he whispered, one of his hands coming to rest on your jaw to keep you close while the other played gently at your fingers. 

You heard yourself let out a dreamy sort of sigh in reply, but you were far too caught up in what you were feeling to really process it. So, rather than dwell on it, you just nodded softly, “I’m so glad you came” 

“I’ll always be here when you need me, sweetheart. Don’t worry about a thing” he cooed, saying each word with the depth and sincerity as a vow, and the intensity that only Charlie Walker could pooling in those blue eyes. 

..and the thing was, you believed every word.

Even on this couch, in the dead of night, in the heart of Woodsboro, you felt completely at ease because who could really get to you when someone looked at you like that? 

Nobody hiding behind a mask, that was for sure. 

[specialagentartemis]

trick or treat! (tell me something about your no longer prehistoric murderbot au)

Ice Age Murderbot AU kind of. Bifurcated into two different things haha.

The one where still-with-the-Company Murderbot is in transit and experiences a wormhole malfunction and gets dropped 20,000+ years in Earth's past, to meet AU!PresAux on this cold, technology-less planet, and it's freaking out about that... it still exists! I think it's super interesting!... for different reasons than I find the Ice Age Origfic Story interesting, lol.

Murderbot POV on being fully free but on the condition of being separated from the rest of the universe forever - no new media, no feed, no medical repair technology, nobody who has ever heard of a SecUnit before - combined with it trying to do wilderness survival to help its humans who are much more familiar with the terrain and how to survive her but don't know what germs are, is fascinating to me. It's a different, bitter kind of freedom, free but trapped, and trying to decide what life means for it now.

However, the one-off joke that Paleolithic!PresAux are a bunch of Ice Age humans and Gurathin is the token Neanderthal that hangs out with them made me go. Huh. How did that happen, I wonder.

Then it got a backstory.

Then I wanted to do things with the backstory that I realized having them be 1:1 Pin-Lee, Mensah, Preservation, Makeba, etc. didn't quite allow, and I had more flexibility telling the story I wanted to tell with that if I just. Made them completely original characters in an original setting. This backstory was pre-Murderbot-arriving anyway so it was like five degrees off being a fully original setting anyway!

---

Kurrat is a Neanderthal 30,000 years BP, part of a small and dwindling clan. Most of the other Neanderthals are gone; Kurrat has never known any others besides his own withdrawing, insular group. It has also become authoritarian and paranoid due to the steady and undeniable population decline, inbreeding, and advance of the other people in territories that oral history says used to be their own people's. His mother told him that her mother said that her mother remembered when it wasn't like this, but what good is that now? Kurrat's clan is dying and they all know it and the leader refuses to acknowledge it, instead commanding with increasingly strict expectations of obedience.

And worse, it's a hard winter. It's Bad. The animals have gone elsewhere and the early frosts killed a lot of the foods they could normally count on for much longer. The group leader decides that a sacrifice is in order. Somebody's life needs to be given, their throat slit and their warm lifeblood fed to the hungry earth to bring back the bounty of the world. Also one less mouth to feed in such a hard winter can't hurt either.

They're going to choose the least-liked person in the group to sacrifice and Kurrat knows it's gonna be him. He does not exactly get along well with. Well. Most of the other people in the clan.

So he goes "fuck this shit, I'm out" and votes with his feet, as it were. He leaves on his own before he can get sacrificed.

Course that's not exactly a great prospect when you're already hungry and it's already deep in the winter.

-

Pendíkhia belongs to a human (Homo sapiens, that is) tribe split into three clans; they spend summer together but winter apart. Her clan of ~30 people is in their winter base camp, and they are Not Doing Well. It's a hard winter for them too. They have always come out to the steppes to meet the caribou herds moving south to their winter grazing areas... but this year the caribou aren't here. Trying to figure out where they are is a major preoccupation of most of the clan's hunters right now. A runner has also been sent to the other clans' winter camp are to check in with them and ask for support. They're starving and scared. It's Bad.

But one afternoon Pendíkhia spots a thin trail of smoke rising in the distance. That's... weird. Who's out here?

She and clan leader Narémákhia go out to investigate, see who's here. And they find a man curled up looking fully frozen to death by the sputtering embers of a campfire.

Poor guy. What was he doing out here alone? Was he insane?

Narémákhia walks off to see if he was travelling with anyone else, if there might be any survivors. Pendíkhia is poking around his body to see if he had a pouch of food on him or anything... when this prompts a reflex, a twitch and shudder and huff of breath. Pendíkhia pulls back. Oh, shit. He's not dead. He looked pretty dead but he is actually still alive.

And Pendíkhia looks out to where Narémákhia is. She didn't see this. She thinks this guy is dead and is planning to come back out tomorrow to give him proper burial rites, because she's a good and responsible person and that's why she was chosen as leader. Pendíkhia is the only one who knows the guy isn't dead. She could just... not tell anyone. Nobody has to ever know. The sun is setting. He'll freeze to death overnight, and really, that's a gentle way to go, nicer than starving or dying of an infection from the cold and wet. When Narémákhia comes back tomorrow morning he'll be dead and she'll never know he wasn't. If he's alive, well, then they're honor-bound to take him back to their camp and help him, try to save him, and they're already struggling and suffering, and they don't have the resources or the energy to spare on a stranger.

Their founding narrative is one of being helped when they were driven out of their home by the ice and the water bearing down on them, by joining with other clans to create the tribe as it is now, and their moral center, their founding myth, the thing that is core to who they are, is this duty of welcoming and helping strangers. It's never been hard before. It's never been a choice before. And she can come up with all these reasons that it's better, really, for everybody, to just leave this guy here.

Pendíkhia has a choice to make...