#but it would be nice to hear more of her potential there

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

A friend started watching Miraculous a couple of weeks ago; he was curious, and I accidentally sold it by spoiling him S5's finale. "Oh! I really enjoy the twist when the bad guy wins!" he said... I swear I tried to save him!

Anyway, he went through the honeymoon phase with S1 and S2. Now that he has watched half of S3 (btw, in our country, both Disney+ and Netflix DO NOT have the episodes in order, save for each season's 1st one and the finales), he went on a rant on Kwamibuster saying "c'mon! So, Marinette can hold all the trinkets without any consequence, why they do that?! Is a nice stand alone chapter, but there is no great consequence!" I just told him "welcome to the fandom!" and he went "OMG! I turned to the dark side!"

He still has Gabriel on a 8.5/10 scale, since he finds saving his wife as a noble if twisted reason to turn villian. Though he doesn't understand why Gabriel found Lila useful at the end of Oni-chan. I... don't have the heart to tell him about Chat Blanc nor Gabriel's later actions.

Were S1 and S2 really the best of Miraculous? I remember enjoying S3, but now hearing his fresh pov, I'm starting to have my doubts about when it all went to worse.

I was also relatively late coming to the fandom, so I got to see seasons one to three all in one go. I watched them over a series of a few weeks and my memory of that process is this: I thought season one was mediocre with a handful of truly bad episodes, but the premise was a lot of fun and had real potential. I started reading fanfiction after watching the few episodes because I love identity shenanigan romances and I wanted to see people tell this one without being held back by the show's format and intended audience. This is probably the only reason I finished season one. I didn't like the show so much as I thought it was good enough to watch so I could fully understand the fanfic.

Origins is where my opinion changed. It was legitimately good and even felt like a soft reboot for Alya, Adrien, and Chloe. I thought this indicated that the first season had done really well and so the show had been cleared to have a true overarching plot and serialized elements in the coming seasons.

Season two initially seemed to back that up with the Chloe stuff and Marinette meeting Fu, but then Queen Bee happened. That's the moment when I realized the show was never going to live up to its potential. It was incredibly disappointing to see Chloe go from finding the bee to revealing herself on national television within a few minutes. That is the least interesting way you could possibly play her finding the bee. I have referred to this choice as the canary in the coal mine before and I stand by that. If they couldn't handle something as tried and true as a mean girl redemption or do something interesting with Chloe finding the bee, then we were not in for a good time.

The introduction of Carapace just further confirmed that read. Nino wasn't carefully chosen for his miraculous. He was just in the right place at the right time and got the best miraculous for the situation. Chloe getting the bee felt more fitting and she wasn't even chosen for it! She just got to keep using it for some reason even though identity reveals were supposed to get you benched. It was weird and was also another warning sign of things to come. Identity reveals and their consequences would just become more and more confusing as the show went on.

While all of these things were disappointing, I don't fault anyone for being willing to keep watching because it wasn't all bad. Season two showed us that the show was going to suck from a long-form perspective, but it could deliver solid short-form content. Your friend put it really well:

It's a nice stand alone chapter, but there is no great consequence!

The early seasons of Miraculous had a lot of fun standalone chapters that had no greater consequence. Disappointing for those who wanted a serious story, but you don't need to tell a serious story to be good. If the show had stuck to a more lighthearted tone and just put out disjointed, but fun mini-stories, then it would have been fine. Not amazing, but serviceable. An endless series of writing prompts that don't really fit together, but that allow for a ton of fun fan content as people pick and choose which episodes to play with. I would have still had issues with some of those episodes, but because they didn't actually connect, I would have just shrugged and focused on the stuff that was fun. In fact, that's what I was doing for the first four seasons! There's a reason this blog didn't exist until mid season five even though I've had issues with the show since season one.

For example, does Chat Blanc technically ruin the love square by establishing that Adrien's love for Marinette isn't strong enough to keep him from killing her? Sure, but when it was just a random what-if episode, I could ignore it as one-off bad writing. Season four then chose to have Chat Blanc show up in Marinette's nightmare and also featured Marinette promoting Alya instead of Chat Noir, leading me to assume that Marinette was keeping Chat Noir at arms because of Chat Blanc. This changed how I viewed Chat Blanc. That episode suddenly mattered to the entire show and wasn't a one-off thing I could ignore.

The official word is that Chat Blanc had nothing to do with the season four conflict, but that's really not clear in the actual text to the point where I almost want to call BS. Why did you give Marinette a Chat Blanc nightmare if he doesn't matter to her mental state? That makes no sense!

Even if we embrace that official word, Chat Blanc is still not a one-off episode. It apparently haunts Adrien and kept him from the season five final even though Adrien never actually learned about Chat Blanc, which is frankly even more damning than my initial read of season four. It's now super official that Adrien's love for Marinette isn't enough to save the day and I'm not interested in a show that's sticking to that choice and repeating it ad nauseum (Chat Blanc, Ephemeral, and the season five ending). The one-off bad episode has now poisoned the entire show and it's not the only episode that did this.

We've reached a point where there are multiple choices haunting the show, making it so that there really aren't any more fun standalone chapters. Even if season six is written more like those early seasons, are any of us going to be able to enjoy love square hijinks when we're also waiting to see if Adrien will ever learn the truth of sentistatus or his father's death? And what about the knowledge that love will probably never win? It's hard to forget that, especially as more and more people learn the love square's secret identities, endlessly cheapening that reveal. Combined that with them maintaining the statue quo of Marinette being unable to act normal around Adrien and it's hard to picture season six being anything like a good time.

While I can't picture it, maybe you can! Seasons one to four all had episodes I enjoyed even though I was aware of the large scale flaws. Season five is the one that ruined that for me because, while there is no real overarching plot for the season, there was enough connective tissue that no episode felt like it truly stood alone no matter what the writers say. That connective tissue made the problems impossible to ignore and, now that my brain is in serialized mode, I can't go back to episodic. The season five cliffhanger of the lies is also too serious a point for me to mostly ignore it like I did with the other bad cliffhangers. The lies aren't just a dumb plot point, they're an incredibly serious character beat that I can't overlook. Every time the love square is on screen, I'm going to feel a little sick because I know canon isn't going to give this massive betrayal proper weight.

There's also retroactive rot at work here. Because the show has serialized elements, the more the show poisons its plot and characters, the more the rot creeps backwards, ruining the early stuff to the point where the flaws feel glaring. Knowing Chloe's ultimate fate makes it hard to enjoy her early canon writing. Knowing that Ladybug will fight Gabriel alone makes it hard to enjoy Ladynoir's big "you and me against the world" moments. Knowing that Gabriel will eventually win makes it hard to enjoy more moments than I can count.

So, to answer you question:

Were S1 and S2 really the best of Miraculous?

I'd say that the first four seasons all have good standalone episodes and even some good setups that would just never pay off. Season three and four just feel worse than the first two because that's when it started to become really clear that those payoffs would never come since the show had to finally own that fact with things like Chloe "damnation arc" and the lack of consequences for the mass identity reveal.

They also have more setups than the first two seasons and those probably stand out in your mind as being bad. That's how bad writing tends to work when that writing issues are more structural than scene-based. The longer the story goes, the more the cracks in the foundation show. The writing is rarely getting actively worse, there's just enough of it to properly show just how bad it is.

I do think season five was worse than any of the others, but only because the episodes had that awkward thing where they were try to be both episodic and serialized, really highlighting how bad the show was at long-form content. It wasn't so much that the writing got worse as it was that the show focused on the writing style that highlights its flaws. Season six going back to more truly episodic story telling may make it work for some people even if they hated season five. Only time will tell.

[worminterface]

i love gecs so much and i should probably explore more of Dylan Brady's solo stuff but dear lord I hope Laura returns to her roots a bit sometime. just the emotions in her solo work are unmatched to anything 100 gecs has ever done (NOT QUALITY. just like rawness). if she did a solo hardcore album nobody would be able to stop me

[boneheadboner]

More stupid crack garbage abt shit I'll write someday, at 3AM because what is my life

Starring a crack rendition of Baggs and Sonia's first meeting.

Baggs: [Stumbles upon Sonia] What's this? A human I've never met before? Sonia: OH JESUS-- Baggs: [Cheeky] Yes, my dear?

Sonia: Sorry you uh spooked me and-- uh... Wait what? Baggs: ... I was being chee-- Sonia: WAIT WHAT??? Baggs: I-- hmmm.... I haven't quite-- Sonia: READING MINDS??? HYPNOSIS??? Baggs: [Understandably taken aback] ... Exuse me???????

Sonia: UH UH UH BAGGS-- SHIT. SANS??? WHATEVER YOUR NAME IS? My head is NOT a good place to peek into. Baggs: How the fuck did you know my-- Sonia: TRUST me on this one, Source; I LIVE IN IT. I'D KNOW. Baggs: .... Nevermind, you'll probably give an excuse, I'll check myself. Sonia: WAIT DON'T-- Baggs: It can't be that-- [Baggs proceeds to read her mind... Only to be overwhelmed with The Peanut Gallery of all Peanut Galleries, the entities. All trying to talk at once, and there's also some growing-louder eldritch voices sprinkled on top of the mental shit sundae]

Baggs: Sonia: Baggs: Sonia: Baggs: Sonia: I tried to warn you. Baggs: [DEEP INHALE] Baggs: My dear. Baggs: I am around at minimum fifty people a day. Baggs: With not only hearing their prattle out loud, but hearing their thoughts leak into my mind almost as loud as they speak. Baggs: And when you work in a well staffed laboratory, around many so-called brilliant minds, and their flawed calculations? Their absurd conclusions? Their completely off-the-wall, out-their-ass charts? Baggs: Hearing so much audibly and mentally on a daily basis would drive most mad. Baggs: And that, my dear, is nothing compared to how fucking loud everything I heard in your mind is for the mere moments I glimpsed into it. Sonia: I did warn you. Baggs: Yes, and I have a migraine now. But with that being said; Baggs: My STARS, How do you-- Are you fucking OKAY?! Sonia: .... You know, no one's actually asked me that, about that specific problem. Baggs: [Staring at Sonia and shaking his head slowly in absolute disbelief] Sonia: .... Mmmmm.... Y'know what? I don't think I am. Baggs: [IMMEDIATE SHARP INHALE AND MASSAGING HIS NASAL BONE] Sonia: Yeah.... Uh... I think I might need therapy? Oh... Ohhh... Maybe not. Yeah the things I've been through and seen? Sonia: [Hissing as she inhales through her teeth] Yeeeah I don't think there's a therapist that wouldn't immediately shove me into an asylum. Baggs: ... I think, without a shadow of a doubt, I'm doing you a favor.

[gamblersdoll]

so sukuna usually goes for a woman who holds her own in a fight. its believed that he was more attracted and would even become a flirt even mid fight…. tw for sexual themes.

so imagine how confused you would be when you are with yuuji in your dorm and having a nice time and sukuna just stares at you through his cheek, somewhat a glare but smile. in confuses you, almost making you tilt your head.

“im going to put a brat in you.” he says, then suddenly leaving the scene, causing you to fret and be on guard anytime and anywhere. and leaving such a frantic and apologetic yuuji.

whats even worse is if your group were to exercise a curse spirit somewhere and its on you and yuuji, sukuna would definitely take the time to potentially force a switch or convince the poor baby to switch. and sukuna is doing his best to try and wound you– youre fast, and you already landed three good blows on him.

but things do come to an end, you being cornered and having to hear sukuna say the most disgusting things.

“you wouldnt be a bad wife, could make you have at most two brats.” or holding you while you squirm, groping at a fat breast and squeezing, hoping you dont moan. and he goes “these things dont hold you back? i just wanna bite into them… would taste so good.”

it also occurs when you sleep too. the intoxicating feeling of his fingers are still on your skin, he had to be an incubus. but you were suddenly dreaming about him eating your precious fat pussy too, suckling on your clit and have two hands hold your hips down, two hands hold your legs up while he eats you so sloppy. he can always be a messy eater, and he mumbles .. praise?

“havent had good pussy in years.”

“fuck, that brat hadnt eaten you at all ?”

“i demand your cum, i want you to cum.”

and when you wake up your folds are soaked with spit drooling down your ass cheeks. and with your shirt scrambled up and a bra pushed up.. was he in here? was it a dream? you didnt know. why was he so suddenly interested?

its only the next time you saw him, the cut you had given him had scarred up and he smirks at the sight of it. this only caused him to think of little exchanges for you to show yourself raw to him.

“if you land another three blows, ill have you sit on my face.” he said, eyes lidded and his signature grin plastered.

you ended up with a swollen clit, from its poor abuse and with bruised thighs, because he just had to make you sit still while he ate you out.

[dollgxtz]

Sleepy Crow

Word Count: 1.8k words

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, somno, noncon, mentions of breeding, pet names such as kitten, sweetie, darling, reader is somewhat drugged but its her sleep meds!

AN: Hi all! This isn't my first time writing fanfics but I noticed a lack of Sylus fics with a darker undertone ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ". PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read the tags and if this isn't something that interests you or is potentially triggering, please do not interact! I get this isn't everyone's cup of tea but this is a fic for people who like darker romance stuff!! Please enjoy, and I AM taking requests as I really want to get back into writing again. Do not hold back, this is a safe place! Ty!! <333

Sylus trudged through the pouring rain, his jacket soaked through and his hair matted against his forehead. The drops were heavy and unrelenting, pelting against the pavement and creating small rivers that flowed along the gutters. The barely lit streetlights of the N109 zone cast an eerie glow on the slick surfaces, reflecting off the wet asphalt like a distorted mirror.

As the man approached his mansion, he couldn't help but feel relieved. The warm glow of the lights shining through the windows beckoned him home. He fumbled with the keypad to the door, his fingers slightly numb from the cold, before finally hearing the click that beckoned his entrance.

The sound of raindrops hitting the roof and windows followed him, a steady drumming that seemed to fill every corner of the place. He took off his sodden jacket and hung it up, feeling the weight of it pulling him down. He walked through the dimly lit hallway, his footsteps echoing softly on the marble floors, trying his hardest to be quiet. Mephisto was perched on his cage (not that he was ever really in it, it was more for decor) tilting his head when he saw Sylus brush past him but not making any sound himself.

He made his way to the bedroom chambers, deciding to make sure you were where you belonged. Peeking his head in the bedroom doorway, he saw your sleeping figure, chest rising ever so slightly with each breath. He smirked, closing the door behind him as he entered. He was happy you finally seemed to be getting some rest.

Your insomnia had been getting worse, and he'd been getting worried when he saw you were often messaging him at 4 am, sometimes as late as 8 am with no sleep. Of course he’d offer to have you over, to hold you and whisper sweet things in your ear until you succumbed to sleep, but he couldn’t always. Sometimes business was needed to be handled, and for those nights he had gotten you the best sleep medication that money could buy. You had been weary about taking them at first, but he had assured you that the side effects were basically none. He had made sure of it.

Sylus made his way to the bathroom, proceeding to rid himself of the damp clothes clinging to his skin. A quick shower and then he could finally curl up next to his little crow. Not that he would be sleeping yet, but it was nice to watch you dream. Sometimes you’d whine or make little noises, which he found absolutely adorable. He wondered what you dreamt about sometimes, but you had refused to answer much to his annoyance.

The hot water felt amazing after being gone practically all night. He washed all the blood and dirt from his skin, examining all of his various injuries. He had a run in with a few “pests” that he quickly exterminated, but they had managed to get a few nicks on him. He touched his arm where the biggest cut was, his Evol immediately snaking around it and healing it faster than he could blink. He did the same for the others, feeling brand new once more.

Some time passed before he finally turned the water off, dried himself, and slipped into a pair of boxers. He slowly made his way into the bedroom, hoping that he wasn't being too loud but you were out like a light. Sleeping like a rock.

Sylus slipped in bed next to you, sighing with pleasure as the soft mattress sunk beneath his weight. It felt heavenly. He turned to put his arm around you, trying to get as comfortable as possible so he could hold you. He softly kissed the corner of your ear, his head starting to swim with thoughts. Surprisingly, he felt comfortable enough to possibly fall asleep with you.

But he couldn't.

He had been laying in bed for thirty minutes just thinking. He thought about all the business arrangements he needed to finish. Tonight had been…messy. No doubt he had made some new enemies. How impatient he was getting about the new weaponry he had bought from Spain. They should be arriving soon, but it had been taking forever.

How he wanted to feel your tight cunt pulsing around his fingers.

Sylus stiffened, attempting to rid his head of these thoughts about you. His efforts were in vain though, as he was already rocking a semi hard on that was steadily growing into a full erection.

Obviously there was nothing he could do about it. You were sleeping after all. And not only that, it's not like he could wake you to do anything anyways. He hates quickies, they bored him. He likes to take his time. To take in your reactions, your faces, and your noises. Besides that, you were taking a pretty high dose of your sleeping meds and he kinda doubted he could wake you even if he really tried.

This thought stirred in his head for a bit.

Yeah...you wouldn't wake even if he tried. He sighed with a twinge of pleasure as he pressed his erection against the soft cotton of your underwear. The pressure felt immaculate, and if he hadn't been gone all night he probably could've finished just by pressing himself against you. You were the only girl ever that could make him finish that quickly.

But it wasn't enough. He needed more. It had been a bit since he touched you like this.

You moved a bit in your sleep, letting out a small whine. He leaned over you to get a better look at your face. Still sleeping, mouth open slightly ajar. You were so fucking pretty when you slept.

“Such a sleepy kitten” he growled lowly, snaking his fingers underneath the hem of your underwear. He didn’t know why, but the mere sight of your sleeping face was getting him worked up. You looked so docile, so vulnerable. He wanted you. Sylus began to tug them down slowly.

This was very wrong. He knew this and yet he couldn't stop. He kept going, making empty promises to himself that he would only take a peek. He just wanted to see you. All of you.

Sylus froze has he finally pulled your underwear down to your legs, practically breathless at the site of your cunt at his fingertips.

"Fuck..." he groaned, unable to stop himself from pressing a finger between your folds. He watched you carefully for any signs of discomfort or movement, but you were still fast asleep as he pushed his finger in. You were warm, inviting even. It's like your pussy was sucking his finger in, deeper and deeper. He slid a second finger in, picking up the pace. Soon enough, your cunt was slightly wet, spots of your slick forming on the backs of your legs near your pussy. Pulling out, he practically shivered with excitement.

Sylus was quick to put his fingers in his mouth, savoring every drop of you. You tasted so sweet to him, the best flavor he ever had the honor to try. He wanted nothing more than to dive head first into the source and lap it up. But his erection was so starting to bother him. It was rock hard, and throbbing ever so slightly, begging to be freed.

He had to have you. And he had to have you now.

He pulled his erection through the hole in his boxers, beginning to stroke himself with an intense grip. Groaning as quietly as he could, he stared at your wet and welcoming cunt. He swore it was just begging to be filled by every inch of his cock. Still wanting him, even when you were asleep.

"You’re so pretty sweetie" he whispered in your ear, closing his eyes as electrifying pulses of pleasure crashed through him. Sylus told himself he should stop now, but it was past that point. He knew himself better than that. His mind was already made up, no matter how much he was trying to talk himself out of it.

Turning you a bit more on your side, he readied the fat head of his tip to your entrance. You stirred once again, mumbling incoherent nothings before becoming silent again. Sylus chuckled softly, pressing his lips to the tip of your ear as he stroked himself a few more times.

As he sinks his tip into your tight entrance, his precum smears all over your hole. He shudders with intensity, trying his best to hold back a groan, worried that making too much noise next to your ear would wake you. He pushes further and further until he can't possibly sink himself into you anymore. You squirm, letting out another whine, this one a bit louder than the last.

"Im sorry kitten…" Sylus coos, laying his head behind yours as he fucks you with a slow, rhythmic pace. "Just need to cum in what’s mine. Be a good girl and stay asleep for me”.

He rests one of his hands on your hip, trying to keep from shaking you too much as he continually plunges himself inside you. You were warm, your gummy walls constantly tightening around him. He moans your name over and over like a prayer, feeling lost in your walls. The soft clap of his skin meeting your ass echoes a bit in the room.

"You're fucking made for me. Look at you sweetie, tightening around me, trying to squeeze me dry even when you're sleeping" he whispers, feeling himself getting closer and closer to bliss.

His thrusts became sloppy and he had to slow himself, trying to savor every moment he had inside of what essentially felt like heaven. He had been wanting to fill you for days. Images of his seed erupting onto the walls of your fertile pussy, eventually giving you a nice, round tummy that would grow his baby filled his head and he couldn't stop himself from finishing anymore.

As his hot ropes of sticky cum shoot against the walls of your womb, he accidently grips your hip a bit tighter than he meant to. You yelp, and he quickly rubbed his hand over the spot he'd hurt you, ensuring you remained asleep. He checks the spot and sees some slight bruising already starting to form and curses himself silently for losing control and hurting you. His Evol was quick to move over the injury where his hand lay, instantly restoring your skin back to a healed state. Sylus was amazed he could even do that. His Evol had only ever healed him. It wasn’t until you came along that it had ever revealed that kind of power and it didn’t work for anyone else either.

"Shh shh, its ok. Just be still, I'm almost done filling you up darling…”

Once his orgasmic high subsided, he took a moment to catch his breath before watching as his cum pooled out of you. He took his finger and scooped as much of it as he could gather before gently pushing it back within your folds. Feeling satisfied with his work, he pulled your panties up before finally pulling the cover back over you.

"There you go. Gotta keep my seed where it belongs so you can make us a baby. Right kitten?" he chuckled, finally feeling tired enough to cuddle you and fall asleep.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Pretty Boy | s.r. x fem!reader

a/n: you know i had to do something for glasses reid i’d be crazy not to.

“oh, here comes your pretty boy. capital p and b.” derek’s smooth voice entered your shared office with jj. you didn’t bother asking who, even coyly, he would just say something along the line of “your other half, pretty girl.”

so you rolled your eyes while scanning over a case file, not bothering to direct attention to the man. “and why the need to visit my space?” a teasing reply, both knowing his visits to the double liaison office were once in a blue moon.

there was the sound of shuffling before derek responded, “cause i wanna see your reaction.” such a vague answer that it caused you to pick your head up with a quizzical look, “what are-“ and you stopped when spencer poked his head through the cracked doorway.

“hey y/n, i brought you…” you didn’t hear the rest of his sentence. eyes too focused on spencer’s face and the new wardrobe attire perched along his nose.

your heart beat fast in your ears and you could feel your body warm in temperature. it was like you were sent back in time to high school and spencer was the insanely smart, pretty student ripped right from your fantasies. you hoped you weren’t drooling at the sight.

“y/n? you alright?” spencer’s voice was much closer now and when you blinked he was directly in front of you with the back of his hand to your forehead and a frown on his face. derek’s chuckles filled the crowded space and you couldn’t even manage a side eye.

“you feel warm. you didn’t happen to catch anything from the last case, did you?” full concern with round puppy eyes shining behind black frames. your heart was the picture of a popsicle melting on a hot summer day.

you took a swallow, “not- not that i know of.” eyes honed onto a freckle placed to the left of spencer’s chin.

derek laughed again, “ease up on her, pretty boy.” he moved closer and stood behind spencer’s left shoulder, a smug expression painted on his chiseled face.

“i’m just checking if she’s physically well.” spencer’s voice got high from defending himself and his actions while glaring at derek.

derek then jerked his chin at your sheepish expression, “well it’s declining each second you’re in her space.” joking at the expense of your crush, but spencer took it the wrong way and pulled his arm back to his side. “sorry, right boundaries. should’ve asked first.”

you managed to bounce back when he started moving away, “no! no, it’s- derek’s just joking. i- i don’t mind you touching me.” and it took two, two seconds, for your mind to process your wording.

“oh this is a great morning.” derek howled then decided he’s seen enough, leaving both of you hot and pink cheeked.

squeezing your eyes shut you wished for the floor to swallow you hole and drag you away from this situation. “i’m- i’m sorry… about that. bit- bit scattered brained right now.” trying to play everything off.

“you- you sure you’re alright? i’m certain hotch will let you leave early.” spencer’s brows pinched in the middle turning his face into more of a pout. oh he has no idea the effect on you.

you smiled gentle at his worry, “i’m well, just been staring at potential cases too long, that’s all.” fingering at the edge of the manilla folder in your lap.

“also i like the new look,” circling a finger around your eyes to play charades with him than just mention the holy glasses. “they suit you nicely.” friendly but said with a hint of flirty.

spencer’s smiled widened and his cheeks turned from bubblegum pink to a rosie hue, oh how you wish to just cover him in thousands of kisses. “thanks. i ran out of contacts for the month so i’m stuck with these until then.” making it sound like an inconvenience, but oh how you were gonna suffering for a month of those handsome frames.

you turned your head away before you were caught staring for too long and saw a baby pink bag sitting beside your picture frames. you reached out to grab it then pulled it apart to see a sweet morning treat awaiting for your teeth to sink in. “did you bring this?” asking spencer since you then remember that he said something when arriving but you didn’t hear what.

spencer straightened up and happily beamed, “yeah! i was walking past that pastry shop you like and thought you’d enjoy something for all your hard work.” you both knew that was a straight lie since that pastry shop is an extra ten minutes out of either of yours work routes.

but you didn’t comment on it just looked spencer in the eye and said softly, “thank you, spence. you’re very sweet.” and with a sudden boldness you leaned forward to press a delicate kiss onto his right cheek.

pulling back you noticed spencer’s lips were slightly parted, he looked almost winded from the sudden action. you were gonna apologize if you over stepped but then jj entered her office with derek trailing behind.

“uh… hi.” she stopped two steps inside then saw the way you both fidgeted to appear normal. as if you were doing something you weren’t supposed… “hi, welcome.” “everything normal here.” you and spencer talked over each other.

“okay, not even gonna ask…” waving a folder about, “but i found a case and hotch approved so into the conference room for debriefing.” jj gave both of you a final stare then walked around derek to flee the scene.

“come on pretties, you can smooch later.” “derek!”

[inkdrinkerworld]

hello bae idk if ur taking requests rn but whenever u are could you potentially do a spencer reid x curvy reader ?? just a true baddie and no one thinks spencer can handle all of her? i love this trope and am happy with whatever you do with it!

“You’re not being nice to me.” Spencer says as you slip into a pair of low rise jeans.

Your skin glistens, the glitter lotion you’d applied making you look that much more like a goddess.

You’re meeting Spencer’s friends from work for drinks tonight and you’d just gotten the most perfect top to make your outfit delectable.

“I’m being very nice to you, Spencer.” You slip into the top that stops just over your navel, your newest piercing out on display making Spencer swallow hard.

He’s not a prude, not your Spencer, but seeing your belly button adorned with a dangly silver dragonfly and in display fills him with an almost animalistic need to keep you in bed with him for the rest of the night.

“How do you figure?” He asks, reaching for you and smoothing his hands down your sides. You smell like burnt sugar and marshmallows. Spencer’s nose brushes yours, as he waits for your answer.

“Because I look like a peach and I’m gonna make the best impression on your friends ever.” You squeal when Spencer squeezes your bum and then captures your lips.

When you meet his friends, Spencer can tell you’re not what they were expecting. You look like a seductress- hair pinned up with pieces falling out, pretty dangly earrings to match the rest of your jewellery, your voice a siren’s call and you’re incredibly cheery.

“How does pretty boy keep up with you?” Derek asks, a smile playing on his lips as you look to Spencer who’s deep in conversation with Penelope over some new nerd game.

“Honestly, I don’t know how I keep up with him.” Derek laughs, shaking his head as he drains his drink.

Emily chimes in next, “Never thought Spencer would man up to ask you out.”

Your eyebrows knit, “What do you mean?”

She smiles, a little evilly- like a sister does when they have all the information on their brother. “Spencer’s pined after you for about three months before he said, ‘I finally did it.’”

Your boyfriend tunes into the conversation then, cheeks scarlett as you turn to him.

“You work at the courthouse right?” Emily asks and you nod.

“Spencer was always gushing about the pretty lawyer and how he wanted to ask you out but didn’t have the-“

He cuts her off with a hand over her mouth. “Emily.”

She laughs behind his hand, shrugging which only makes Spencer’s blush worsen.

Penelope shrieks and everyone turns to look at her. “You’re like Vanessa!” She says it like you’re all meant to catch on immediately; when you don’t she rolls her eyes.

“From the Little Mermaid! You look like a siren.” You smile, a barely there blush flushing over you in the dark bar.

“Your trouble is what you are.” Spencer mutters, no one but you hearing him making you smirk.

“Thank you Penelope! Though I have to be honest, this is just my going out get up- I’m much more slouchy at home.”

Spencer rolls his eyes, he doesn’t think you understand how incredibly attractive you are regardless of what you’re wearing.

You lean on Spencer’s shoulder as your drink comes to the table, a sip of Long Island Iced Tea and you’re turning to JJ.

“What’s it like working with Spencer?”

His hand falls to the small of your back as you listen with rapt attention to his friends’ every word.

Spencer can’t tear his eyes away from you and that’s all Derek needs to know as he shoots a message to Savannah to send him the number of the jeweler who made their rings.

[smuttysabina]

A Month With Aespa (Ch 5): A Taste of Winter

(Male Reader x Karina x Winter, 3k Words) Tags: Rampant lesbianism; Excessive foreplay; Immense Creampies; Twintails get used as handlebars, These outfits were honestly wild, they should wear more fishnets; some voyeurism; Vaginal and Oral sex; Threesome; Some Fisting

Read Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4 here!

It had so far been a perfectly ordinary day. You had spent a great deal of your time luxuriating in the gardens that still glistened with the morning's dew, sampling some new delicacies from the kitchen, and had received a somewhat mediocre, if enthusiastic, pleasuring from Ningning (who had insisted upon using her modest breasts to prove her bust's superiority over Karina's; it were not). So, aside from a rather strained painting of an idol's chest with your seed, your day had otherwise been filled with whimsy and the like; you could already hear your maids muttering to themselves about the lack of attention. It was in the late afternoon then that you were strolling through the corridors, eyeing your passing staff to see if any felt particularly fulfilling to well, fill, when you notice Karina scurrying through a service passage. It was surprising enough to see her out and about considering her penchant for staying in her room all day, but it was even more surprising to see doing so dressed like a cheap (well, moderately priced, really) whore. A tightening of your groin indicates that any further consideration about a potential distraction was not required; your darling maids would understand completely.

You follow Karina at a leisurely pace, keeping her barely in sight as you stroll along, giving you only glimpses of her outfit as she darts around corners and down stairways. Her exotic twintails bouncing erratically as she weaves a confusing path through your grandfather's manor; or at least it would be had you not known the place like the rear of your old anatomy teacher (Ms. Hendricks had held a rather hands-on view towards teaching, and her sizable posterior a formidable tool in that respect). As it was, you always managed to keep track of Karina as she wound her way back to where she started, and you find your curiosity further piqued as she seems to hesitate in front of the door of one of your other guests, before softly knocking on the door and slipping inside. Of course, the only other guests in the mansion were the other members of Aespa, so now you were well and truly baffled by the entire scheme of hers'; why bother bustling about if her eventual destination was literally feet away? Your brow furrowed with thought, you hurry to the service corridors yourself, and from there into the servant's passages that honeycombed the walls of your residence. You step quietly over to the peephole that looks into Winter's room, and peer intently through it, keen to discover just what the idols were up to (Hm? I'm sorry, why exactly is the mansion riddled with cuck-holes you ask? Obviously because where is the thrill of illicit love-making if there is not the risk of it getting exposed? Also the maids do love to watch, even if it does leave the place rather damp at times).

The view through the narrow opening was somewhat limited, but fortuitously the two idols had placed themselves upon Winter's bed directly in front of it. Now that she was finally still, you could truly examine in detail Karina's outfit, and found yourself suitably impressed. Her long twintails frames her sizable bust quite nicely, which though shrouded by fabric was still pleasantly arousing, and the black fishnets that led up to her miniskirt were the icing upon the proverbial cake. Winter by contrast was a brighter version of Karina, her fishnets were pink, as was the open skirt around her waist, which was conspicuously lacking anything to cover up her darker-hued panties. Yet more fishnetted lingerie covered her arms and chest, and her more modest twintails were set further back on her head; it was surprising to see them dressed so sensually, neither had bothered since their first days at the mansion. Giselle on the other hand seemed to revel in extravagant outfits, nearly as much as she enjoyed annoying you enough to bend her over in a service corridor, praise be that your maids were experts in removing semen stains! Of course Ningning also could be seen flaunting her body in sleek dresses and shifts, though those were rarely on her body long enough for you to truly appreciate them these days.

But the bemusement at seeing Karina and Winter not in their usual sweats or pajamas was swiftly escalated when the pair begin to make out. Your eyes practically bulge as you watch Karina melting into Winter's arms, their lips locked tightly together as their hands roam each other's bodies. Now this was a truly unexpected development, you had imagined that Aespa would have been carnally familiar with one another, but the manner in which the two were kissing indicated an intimacy that surpassed casual sex. You are surprised to feel a stab of jealousy as Winter freely mauls Karina's ample breasts through her shirt, the latter's constant denials had you feeling a touch possessive in your desires towards her. And Winter's consistent polite coldness towards your advances had made you think it was simply a quirk of her personality, yet with the other idol she showed a gleefully honest lack of restraint. You had thought you would catch the girls gossiping away or the like, and yet here they were, engaging in passionate foreplay that would no doubt soon devolve into outright sex! So, with a rather particular tightness in your pants, you sit forwards to enjoy the show.

You knew that lesbians tended to take awhile with their foreplay, but frankly, this was getting ridiculous. Karina and Winter were still merely kissing and petting one another, why, they had not even moved from that particular spot on Winter's bed! Surely the idols must be so worked up by this point that they were literally dripping wet, you certainly were, but no, the pair spared only the gentlest of touches to their sexes; and remained completely clothed! With an irritable huff you force yourself to settle, indulgent excess was meaningless without restraint, as your dear grandfather had been so fond of saying (He had also been wont to repeat "through anal fornication, comes perfection", so perhaps you should harken too closely to his, ah, wisdom). Yet, nothing happened. It was as if the members of Aespa were putting on a show for none (obviously they would assume their little tryst was going unwatched after Karina's stealthy antics), that, or they were appallingly chaste with one another. There was only so much teasing one could tolerate however, and the only reason why you had not faltered in your determination to copulate with Karina and merely emptied yourself into some passing maid, was that one had not wandered by yet. So you rationalize that it was only your duty as a gracious host that you properly encourage those two to, well, get on with it; some couples do require a helping hand (or member) after all!

Filled with fresh resolve, you retrace your steps out into the main hallway, past several maids who eye your obvious bulge with more than a little interest, and right to Winter's door. After taking a moment to adjust yourself so that your erection was not blatantly visible, you knock briefly before inviting yourself inside, a kindly request for some advice regarding Giselle's mundane habit of leaving her belongings everywhere dying on your lips as Karina and Winter break out of their embrace to glare at you in parodies of shock and surprise. You cough awkwardly at this truly unexpected situation, and fixing a look of benevolent concern upon your face, stride deeper into Winter's room. Surely the idols had not been pushed to engage in such banal intimacies due to inattention on your part, you declare with worry, had you been so poor a host that you had focused too closely upon the other two members of Aespa? You would gladly assist them in remedying this disgraceful failing on your part... Winter narrows her eyes at Karina, subtly indicating that she should be the spokesperson, and the idol duly burbles out a breathless response, "Oh, um, dear host, not at all! We were merely... practicing! Yes, we were practicing," Karina beams innocently, her polite demeanor unable to hide the obvious flush coloring her cheeks. A single raised eyebrow is all the reply you require to prompt her into continuing, "Of course, you are welcome to observe, as is your right," Winter frowns but nods in agreement; ah, progress.

You pull an armchair in front of the bed, leaning back into it before broadly gesturing for the idols to continue with their... "practice"; and are given a front-row view of Karina and Winter once more shyly kissing one another. You are utterly baffled by their behavior, you knew from first-hand experience that Karina was an absolute menace between the sheets, and from your brief interactions with Winter, you could tell that she was beyond experienced when it came to pleasuring both men, women, and everything in between. Undoubtedly the pair had engaged in wanton acts of debauchery together, idols were renowned for their depraved orgies, so your thoughts once again churned as you attempted to solve this knotty problem... As always, the wisdom of the Ancients comes to your aid, why bother untangling this Gordian mystery, when you could simply sever it? With a radiant smile upon your face, you heave yourself upright and stand proudly in front of the bemused idols, who once more ceased kissing to stare at you, courteously awaiting your words. They barely even blink when you unsheathe your sword, its tip bulbous and oozing from the girl's infuriating teasing; Karina's lips seem to quirk slightly before returning to her demure half-smile.

Usually you would engage in foreplay, exploring your lover's bodies while they probed your own, but after nearly an hour of simply watching, you decided to forego such pleasantries. You order Karina to open her legs, which she does with a disinterested sigh, while Winter huffs in disgust, but the latter's eyes widen when you tell her to start eating Karina out. The members of Aespa glance at each other, before Winter shrugs with exaggerated indifference, and leans down between Karina's fishnetted thighs, moving her tight miniskirt up to reveal Karina's glistening slit before her head obscures it. Winter's rear remains upraised however, her gauzy pink skirts shrouding it in an excess of fabric, and you are quick to lift it up over her hips, revealing the thong beneath. Winter looks back at you for a moment, before rolling her eyes and returning to devouring her friends' pussy; who seems to be rather enjoying herself if the squelching noises coming from her crotch are anything to go by. But now it was your turn, and you are almost trembling as your hands roam Winter's pale rear, her skin pleasantly dimpled by the pink fishnets as you squeeze and spread them. You slap your meat against her exposed lower lips, causing runnels of juices to dampen her thighs, and with barely contained excitement, your manhood tastes the final member of Aespa's pussy for the first time.

Unlike her name, Winter's sex was hot, almost uncomfortably so. It felt as if your member was inside of a heater, one that was enjoyable lubricated to be sure, and that voraciously sucked you inside of it, but still. Not that you minded though as you plow Winter from behind, her stuffy pussy already having you on edge from her extensive show- Fresh wetness gushes down your shaft, the idol shudders in your grasp, evidently she had been pushed to her limits by Karina's chaste kisses as well. With a grunt you push forwards, forcing Winter flat atop Karina, her face shoved between her friend's amble breasts as you start to prone bone the idol. Your cock grinding against her sensitive spot with every thrust, sending fresh quivers through her body as her pussy soaks the skirt pooled beneath her groin. No matter how skillfully your movements however, you found yourself unable to resist the burning heat broiling your manhood, and after several more messy slaps you finally allow yourself to let go. Winter lets out a muffled squeal as your semen pours into her, her feet drumming against the bed as your load fills her pussy. You shake as you collapse down onto her, your strength leaving you as pleasure wracks your form, the pair of you shuddering in sympathy as your twined orgasms leave you breathless. Shivering, you unmount Winter, your erection dragging across her buttocks as you rise back onto your knees, leaving behind a glistening trail that leads back to the creamy mess belching from her vagina.

You lay on your side to catch your breath, as the idols untangle themselves from one another, the both of them leaving behind obvious wet stains on the sheets. But before your seed can add to the damage, Karina determinedly takes her own turn between Winter's thighs, lapping up the sperm before using her tongue to clean even deeper inside of the other idol. If you had thought your own efforts had been adept at bringing Winter to orgasm, Karina swiftly put you to shame as her oral techniques soon have Winter blubbering. The usually composed idol was in paroxysms of agonizing pleasure as she held onto Karina's twintails, her face bright red as she drowns Karina in her fluids, until with a undignified shriek she squirts so hard it sprays past Karina's face and all over the bed. Her chest heaving, Winter pats Karina's cheeks affectionately, "Stupid, Cheese Cat," she gasps, and the pair share a smile. But such an impressive display had stirred your lust once more, and now you wanted to try using Karina's twintails as handlebars! Karina's blowjob skills were, of course, perfect. Even as you used her hair to piston her head up and down your shaft, her tongue still plied its underside while her lips wrapped tightly around it. Karina idly masturbates throughout, no matter how hard you fucked her face her fingers continued stirring at an unbothered pace; if only you could keep her forever...

After allowing Karina to slobber all over your manhood without your assistance for a little while, you decide it is only right that you reward her for her efforts. So once again she spreads her lingerie-sheathed legs, but this time it is you who place yourself between them. Karina had been wet when you had made love the first time in the showers a week ago (with more than just steamy water, obviously), but this time she was literally soaking from Winter's efforts. You suppress a groan as Karina's exquisite pussy welcomes you inside of it once more, her folds squeezing your cock tightly as it swallows every inch of it. With your hands beneath her knees, you push her legs back, allowing you to take her in mating press, her voluptuous body squishing against yours, and with a single violent motion you wrench her top up over her breasts. Karina gasps slightly, but gives you an amused smile in response, "How romantic," she says dryly as her cleavage flattens itself against your chest, your body weight pressing you together. Your thighs slam you down into her again and again, and you nuzzle against her neck as she wraps her arms around you, your conjoined sexes squelching loudly as they slap together. A shudder runs through Karina, and a fresh slurry of fluids sprays against your balls as she climaxes, "Oh you vile..." she moans before purring with ill-disguised satisfaction.

Having brought your partner to orgasm, it was only polite then that you gifted her a reward for her efforts today; seeing the elegant idol dressed so lewdly had aroused you more than you had realized, and it was only proper that you showed your appreciation. You groan as pleasure surges through you, and after several more long, determined thrusts, you creampie Karina. Your seed spews deep inside of her, and the idol quivers as she is bred, her enjoyment at the sensation of being inseminated as obvious as your own joy at doing it to her. When your semen has finished painting the entrance to her womb, she coughs, politely reminding you that you are squishing her. You gently scramble off of her, and Karina simply lays there, her chest heaving in a rather attractive manner (It was a struggle to not mount her bodice then and there), before giving you a somewhat pleased smile, "Well that was nice, I suppose. Are you quite done now, or should we wait on cleaning up?" she asks with an upraised eyebrow. With an exhausted wave you indicate that the idols were free to do as they wish, giving them a nod of approval before tottering towards the exit. You had not even finished closing the door before hearing the noisy sounds of Winter slurping your load out of Karina; they did seem to have great experience in cleaning one another out...

You were thoughtful as you slowly strode back to your own chambers, blissfully unaware of the fact that you were still stark naked; though to be fair, that was hardly an unusual state for you to be in. Karina had put a great deal of trouble into scurrying all around the mansion, it was almost as if she had been trying to catch your attention with such a flashy outfit... Any further musing was put on hold however when you open the door to your room and find Ningning elbow-deep inside of Giselle's sloppy cunt; were all of Aespa carnally interested in each other? Ningning glances back at you without a hint of apology on her face, "Oh good, you're back, we got bored with waiting so we started without you," her eyes narrow as she takes in your unruly appearance, and she sniffs the air before scowling, "You've been fucking Karina again, haven't you? I can smell her loose cunt on your cock," Ningning smirks wickedly as she presents her rear for your pleasure, "Why don't you clean yourself in a real idol, you can even dirty yourself in this slut's holes to truly appreciate the difference..."

You sigh inwardly, this was proving to be a touch more exhausting than you had originally anticipated...

[barnacles34]

Mr. Rager, Can I Tag Along?

Part I

Synopsis: Mr. Rager finally joins the birds in the skies. Dedicated to the song Mr. Rager by Kid Cudi.

tags: 8k, smut, so much romance, fluff, addiction, recovery, virgin Ryujin

Ryujin x Male OC

CHAPTER I: 

You might hear the birds singing flying around,

You never see them too long on the ground,

You wanna be one of them, yeah.

Cocaine toxicity. Solipsism finally vindicated. He was going to die—truly. That cloudy feeling of mind and body separation, as if the ribbons of heaven had finally let him grasp their reins, swaying him toward some version of forever happiness.

Mmmm.

He thought he’d care about dying right there in the nightclub. The shame of weakness, of collapsing with foam at the corners of his mouth—he’d truly thought he’d care more about it. But now, one worry gone, he was worriless. Life had its charm, but it wasn’t for him; he’d been walking on sticks until the very end. Now, the floor felt so right. His body sank into it, slipping slowly, as if turning to slime and merging back into the earth.

Each second, his grip over his fingers weakened, a constant slackening with every passing moment. His eyelids grew heavy, and the outline of the nightclub around him blurred. He couldn’t control his fingers anymore; he was truly sinking. When would heaven begin? When would this fantasy end? Mind-death, a complete and utter submission to the lifeless realm - he’d never recover.

The faint tingling of powder lingered at the rim of his nostrils. At least, he’d had a good high - a nice ecstasy haze along the fine columbian - before dying. Finally, his eyes closed, nerves shutting down, and he felt free, unchained from his body like a ghost.

"Stay with me!" A voice, deep and feminine.

Hm?

"Don’t close your eyes!" Again, that voice.

What?

Whatever. It was too late anyway.

"How many fingers am I holding up!?" Still images flashed through his fading consciousness, fingers held up just before his face, barely visible, though he couldn’t tell how many anyway.

"What’s your name?" He couldn't place a face on the voice, but it was distinctly feminine - separate from his inner voices.

They were trying so hard. If they’d responded any faster, he might’ve been forced to go back - to life.

Go back…

Did he want to go back?

Hell.

Mr. Rager - that’d be a good name, he thought. If he were reborn, given another chance, that’s who he’d be.

"Mr. Rager!"

What? Could the paramedic hear him?

"Mr. Rager! Come back! Fight back! Don’t go off on an adventure!"

—

Flash. Eyes open. He was alive - he was… alive.

"Mr. Rager. You’re okay; don’t make any sudden movements." A soft, padded palm rubbed his forehead with a gentle, compassionate touch. He looked up. A young woman, petite yet strikingly beautiful, looked back at him.

"What’s your name?" he asked, despite himself. Still a bachelor, after all. "My name is Ryujin." She was dressed in a way he couldn’t quite place, something different from what he expected. "I’m part-time, by the way," she said, noticing his confused look. "That’s why my clothes are different." He rubbed his forehead; it was pounding, but with a distant sort of ache, incongruous with a proper headache. “What the hell happened?” he asked, properly confused. “You went into shock, someone already administered naloxone to your body, thankfully; otherwise, you would’ve-” she abruptly bit her tongue, preventing herself from talking about a potentially sensitive topic that Mr. Rager was subjected to.

“And, by the way, this was my first call ever.” A subtle transition, a conversation starter.

He blinks, trying to relieve the soreness in his eyes, “God, I’m sorry, this is such a fucking shitty situation.” And the way he said it, that emotional self-deprecation.

She might’ve realized something, “Were you trying to commit suicide?” She asked, very bluntly.

“It’s none of your business. Thank you for the hospitality, I’ll be taking my leave now.” When he tried to take the IV fastened to his vein, Ryujin softly, with the firmest grip and tone, said, “You’re going nowhere.”

All Mr. Rager could think of were cuss words, cusses against the world, against destiny to be alive for the foreseeable future. 

A resolve to suicide is the moment the mind, at the cusp of mind-death, truly enters a dead mind. The inescapable rock-bottom, a self-fulfilling prophecy where one feels truly and utterly fastened to the floor - inhibited of all its freedoms, its happiness.

–

Mr. Rager, or better known as Min amongst his peers - not friends. At the hands of his peers, Mr. Rager sustained a traumatic head injury that tormented him with chronic migraines right from the start of it all - the drunk brawl, that he decisively lost in, at just the age of 17. 

See, Mr. Rager had not a single family member except his aunt who embezzled all the funds Rager’s parents left for him. And the last time he tried to talk with his aunt was when he sustained a knife wound on his forearm from her - a deeply tormented individual, she was locked in a home-made cage for most of her adolescence.

And, unfortunately, there’s not a single time where his life is measurably better than the year before - only getting worse until the overdose.

–

Ryujin didn’t inquire further, she was hoping somewhat that her presence might help Mr. Rager. She sat next to Mr. Rager, her hand still on the side of the hospital bed, feeling its soft fabric. Mr. Rager, still irritated, asked, “Why are you still here?”

“Cause I want to be here.” A joking undertone, perfectly acted out. In truth, Ryujin pitied him so much, her first patient, a successful businessman who tried to kill himself at the age of 29 - now that’s fucking rare, usually the cases accelerate at the age  of 50 or so.

“Why’d you take this job?” 

She replied, “Artistic inspiration.”

“Hm, fantastic idea by the way.” He was sincere about it.

“Thanks.”

“Do you have enough material now?”

“Oh. Plenty. Plenty enough.” She giggled.

“What if I don’t consent to my likeness being represented in your art - medium, whatever?”

“Mr. Rager, don’t you worry, I’ll refurbish it so much that it'll be closer to the likeness of… let’s say… me.”

“Quit the teasing,” he stated, straight to the point.

“I don’t want to.” She replied back, he was one of the few people where teasing seemed to genuinely improve their immediate well-being, and for someone like Mr. Rager - it’s huge. And, he was finally laying, no longer trying to plan an escape, on the flatbed, staring at the ceiling, observing the music player. “By the way, is this music player provided to everyone recovering?” He’s not one to mix words.

“You’re pretty smart.” She replies, a confirmation, fiddling with her torn skirt, presumably from rushing into her para-medic role.

“That’s what I owe you for?”

“Mhm.” Still fiddling, a pouty sort of face formed on her face, it was her favorite skirt.

“How do you want the debt paid?” He inquired, he’s one to never ignore the nascent attachment to his favorite items - thus, he understands: the exorbitant value placed on favoritisms. “I dunno. You’ll still owe me. Big Time.” She stared back, this time, their eyes entwined with a sort of friendliness that is almost, just almost, ethically wrong in hospital circumstances.

“Very well then.” His tired eyes kept pulling on his eyelids. Genuine sleep had seemed to completely take over his body, and yeah, that’s all the meds he’s under: naloxone, antibiotics, withdrawal medicine, and a lovely dose of morphine. “I feel new.” His voice was dozing as his intra-reflection began. As he nodded off, he felt the faint grasp of her hand, so small, yet filled with so much conviction. He’s tripping balls, but she’ll never tell him - presence was what was required of her.

And that was all the validation he needed: for sleep.

As Mr. Rager finally slept; Ryujin stayed for a bit, or about 4 hours. And, still, she’s sitting beside him - making sure that he sleeps and recovers. Just from the chance encounter of a paramedic call, she felt the compulsion to guard Mr. Rager. Poor girl, if she’d seen a dead body for her first call then she’d vomit a week’s worth onto the ground. 

After another hour, Ryujin finally decided it was time to leave. She wrote a thoughtful letter, of things that needn’t be said - obviously. But she also left a partition, finagling a creative way to demand what she’s owed. After, she let her boss know that she quit on the spot, that she’d also come back to the same room - a reservation of some sort. She left, leaving the stale, minty air of the hospital with a melancholy that wouldn’t be fixed until she saw him again. Because, when she was writing the note, she wished she asked more questions - Mr. Rager just seemed to lead on the conversation to a charming degree, that other circumstances were of lesser importance. 

Ryujin, outside, breathing in the fresh air of the summer, caught the last bus of the route. This route, passing by the road that she was taken on inside the paramedic van, also led to her apartment. Unfortunately, it’s an old, decrepit apartment where only the rudest sort of parties happen. Half the time, the floor above is vibrating thump, thump, thump from the heavy jumps, or the lower floor blasts some of the most needlessly, eardrum-breaking music.

At least she has solitude. Finally free from the dictates of those she didn’t get along with, finally separated from her friends who’d get too boring if she hung along for too long. Now, her family is charming - easy to get along with; now, her friends are always interesting - fascinating to be around. Distance is a marinating technique, or whatever.

Ryujin, the charming shut-in, finally arrived at her place, and began on her art piece. Unfortunately, there’s nothing to list that’s positive about her obsession with art. It’s the time where she vents her frustrations of being a failed trainee - rather, a placement that was restricted from becoming an idol; wallows in the misery of the color tone she loves the most: dark; and, to top it off, she gets bored of visual arts when she tries to make money off of it. Some dastardly sign from the man above, “Your hobby will stay a hobby.”

All that displeasure would be the paint upon the canvas: checkmate, mental turmoil turns to art, she thought. Swipe and swipe, the dirty colored watercolor painting had nearly no form worth thinking - almost entirely brown from the intermixing of the wet, damp color. Then the second layer, an apparition of segmentation, a deeper color, colors that entice and bite back. Then the specificity of the lines, things left unspecified were on purpose. But, this recurring thought, this pounding idea, that she left a man that fell in the depths of the void alone - really began digging into her soul. This thought unto Ad Nauseam brought her nausea that really can’t be eliminated with the will of her conscience. “I should’ve stayed, I should’ve stayed” - the recurrent thoughts that never seemed to leave her. With a sad howl, she fell to the side, crying deep, ruining all her pretty into the sheets - a room so small that her chair was the bed.

–

“I’m still alive”, Mr. Rager repeated this to himself over and over after waking up - not sure whether to feel some sort of rendered triumph. For a moment, he was truly tip-toed in the void, almost encased into the endless hope, of unrendered reality and a horrible sadness; now, he’s alive, breathing, with a full control of his body.

Nothing had caught his attention, the environment, whether there were people around him or not, only life as he knew it - coursing through his veins. The feeble thumps of his chest - his heart, still persevering.

–

Several days of this sort of morning locomotion went on, it was also the time that Ryujin came over. Poor girl brought over new confectionaries - mostly of her favorites; brought lunch boxes she herself fully funded; found ways to amuse herself and Mr. Rager during the listless hours.

“What’s the interest rate of this debt? Surely, a person like me, fastened to the bed with belts (a pure exaggeration), wouldn’t be extorted with dubious rates?”

“Mr. Rager, you’ll have to declare bankruptcy by the end of it, seriously. You owe me. Big time.” She joked back, of course, she didn’t really expect much. By her own goodwill, Ryujin was looking after Mr. Rager, an exchange of her goodwill would almost sour all her community service - again, a flash of her trait, a blithely weak trait in modern society, a subtle revulsion to being paid for her services.

Mr. Rager, however, was the opposite. Rogue-man, Rager man, Mr. Rager, a name that fits him so closely, from the early onset of consciousness, an unruly rebelliousness coursing through his veins at all times, with flourish - with the crimonest red. He’s done it all, disowning his billionaire politician parents, who still relish the thought of meeting Mr. Rager one day; losing all his wealth, gaining it back the next; then, enjoying it all on a single roulette wheel, then forgiving the casino when they couldn’t pay his winnings; and then dying for a few seconds, under the angelic influence of the so-called hellish “nose candy”. But for his closure, his preference—he’s pastless, futureless.

That’s the dilemma, Ryujin hadn’t learned a single thing about Mr. Rager that was worth pulling a strand on. Contradictory statements only confounded her further, and a reply to her joke - of bankruptcy and debt - he’d say, “I’d have to find it buried somewhere.” And she’d think, “What? What the hell? What’s buried? What’s ‘it’ ?”

Often the thought was interrupted, never fully leaving its conception—Mr. Rager wanted to keep it that way. Ryujin, often on her phone, never leaving her eyes off Mr. Rager, spent her delicate hours in the breezy, spacious hospital room.

Mr. Rager, of course alarmed, would ask - every day - “why do you visit so often?”

Then, Ryujin, really not knowing an answer, would default to a bland answer of so and so - real political talk. This procession, of nothing happening, stretching on for days was repetitive. It also made them happy. She’d put on her makeup, with her artsy hands - quick and fast. The rapidity with which she approached this situation, so contrary to all the aspects of her life - seemingly, Mr. Rager had brought vitality to Ryujin.

And in comes the day of withdrawal, the hospital withdrawal - where Ryujin and Mr. Rager resided comfortably. The door clicked softly as the nurse entered; simultaneously, Ryujin and Mr. Rager’s hairs stood up - what are they alarmed for? It was not, the nurse, no, absolutely not, the nurse was jovial, happy, thinking that she was delivering happy news.

She didn’t know that both of them found their only sources of joy inside this hospital. The nurse thought that she was relieving them of a most ludicrous bill, by ending it as soon as possible - as this hospital in particular, charges in hours, yeah, real dystopian shit. And so, it was a surprise when both the people had an almost disdainful stare towards her - it’s just my imagination, the nurse thought.

–

“Are you sure? You know overdraft schedules cost significantly more?” The nurse asked, confused, concerned.

“Yeah, yeah, I just want to stay here for one more day.” Mr. Rager replied.

“But, but - do you have any ailment? That’ll bring down the price.” 

“None at all, I just want to stay here for another day more.”

Rich people are nuts, the nurse, still, complied, letting him stay, leaving him for another day.

–

As the day progressed, Ryujin came back, again, in the evening. “Your schedule, how do you do that?” Mr. Rager was genuinely impressed with how Ryujin utilized her time, imagine his surprise when she just says, “I just skipped some stuff.”

“Alright, well, thanks for coming.” And that got Ryujin thinking, was this his first time thanking me? Which, in fact, did make her day. And, she wouldn’t dare challenge this once in a lifetime behavior - that’d be a quick way for that behavior to be stashed away, forever. Again, as soon as she entered, the atmosphere changed. 

It’s about damn time they understand the euphoric peacefulness they rouse for each other. And, today was one of the moments where Mr. Rager gives a slight glimpse of his life - the confounding ones that really led to nowhere. “I think my aversion to alcohol comes from the fact that I had kids with this chick, married this chick, bought a mansion for us to live in - and, only too late, realized that it was really the alcohol that talked.”

Ryujin’s heart sank, “what? You have kids?”

“Not anymore, don’t have custody over them anymore.” He was so unbothered, utterly unbothered.

“I’m sorry for asking, just curious—what happened to them?”

He chuckled, “No more personal questions after this, alright?”

She nodded, her beady eyes on full alert. The pillow that she borrowed from the hospital bed, on her lap. She was intently listening from the comfortable armchair. 

“I let her take the kids, she didn’t ask for alimony or anything like that—just that, on the condition that I don’t contact them ever again.” He stared at the ceiling, sorting some of it out, not sure if it was some traumatic experience. Nevertheless, he continued, “she found me unbearable after a while, and I found her unbearable as well. I was never there too: too busy with money. She probably didn’t chase after alimony because she already had a sweetheart - with money - to get back to.” With so much ease, as if he’d been through too many lifetimes - too many he can remember.

“Oh,” that’s it, that’s all the reaction she can give.

“Oh, what’s with that reaction?” He chuckled.

“I-I’msorryIdon’treallyknow-” she paused, “Hey! You’re being so annoying today.”

“Sometimes, a flipped script - like teaser gets teased - leads to masterpieces.”

“Any examples?”

“Nah, I just made it up.”

From then on, the conversations continued; the deep introspective pauses continued, listlessly; and both began to feel the drowsy effect of the combination of warm light and black-out curtains.

And a tired Mr. Rager loves beauty. 

“Ryujin.”

“Hm?” She looked back, staring at him with her doe eyes.

“You’re like marijuana.” One can say he has a way with words.

“What?” Her brows stitched in confusion.

“You’re fucking amazing to have around. But, I swore to never, nev-” He fell into a deep sleep, so contrary to his habits: he’s never fallen asleep with his own mind’s permission.

Her doe-like eyes opened farther open. Her heart began beating listlessly, skipping beats. I’ve got to leave, before I-. Yet she magneted closer to the bed, where Mr. Rager slept so peacefully. Did I do that? He’s always complaining about sleeping, yet- yet he slept so easily. She was making up all sorts of situations, scenarios, theories - none of them healthy for the mind.

And, before she knew it, under the bright moonlight radiating into the room, gentle shadows across his face, she leaned closer, letting her soft lips touch the peak of his cheekbone, causing shivers across her spine, and she thought fuck, fuck, I’m really doing it - and when that wasn’t enough - then his forehead, feeling the warmth radiating from his forehead on her lips. But no more, that’d be too much, too much.

Under her own shame, her bright flush cheeks, her dilated pupils, twin pools of dark moons: she quickly left the room, carrying all her stuff such that it’d be guaranteed to fall in the middle of the hallway, a real mess she made of herself.

CHAPTER II: 

Keep movin' forward, keep movin' forward

I'm so-I'm so reborn, I'm movin' forward

Along the way home, the realization washed over her like a molotov flame - its gentle but fiery shimmer covering the entirety of her body. And the way her heart pumped, any performative act she could do to stop it was useless - ultimately doing nothing, nada, zilch. The sound of his roaring laughter from her jokes, the curve of his smile, the messy stubble, god, she was really losing it inside the bus. Her every thought, motion, every constriction of her body - pulse and all - was consumed by him. Her legs rubbed together desperately, and the slightest, faintest moan left her quivering lips as she let her imagination go wild. 

And the fact that… that an elderly lady was behind her, judging her provocative movements, just nudged her on further - full on deviant shit.

As soon as she’d be home, she’d have a towel under her.

–

Fortunately, past the hospital departure, they wanted to see each other again - platonically. However, it’s been days, and though that may seem quite short, they’ve never been separated for more than 12 hours. 

And these days, these listlessly long days, let Ryujin know of her sympathetic entanglement, and, seemingly intensifying it. Ryujin, with her sore body, stared at Mr. Rager’s phone number on her phone - the curves of the numbers kept reminding her of everything she thought about days before (the curves of the numbers some dubious correlation with Mr. Rager). She’s about to do it again, two fingers, knuckle-deep, into her folds until she’s a drooling mess on the bed. She was already a mess to begin with, a crook in her neck, half her bed unmade, sleep-deprived.

That isn’t to say that Mr. Rager wasn’t just as affected. He never succumbed to the pleasure of the hand, but the dreams, the wistful dreams. Imagining her close smile against him, moaning soft and goading phrases right into his ear - melodiously erotic. Her soft palms against his broad back, pressing deep - trying her best to not scratch up his back. You’re fucking me so good, mm- she’s whimpering, right on your ear, fuck, shivers throughout. Then, halt. It’s the fucking alarm.

Both awake, going through their groggy morning routines to finally meet again. Would it be as magical as it was in the hospital? Would it ever be so calm?

–

The time to meet was approaching quickly. Ryujin got ready, her perfect face, judiciously given with all her perfect talents, was colored with minimal effort, any more and she’d show off her inexperience with makeup - Mr. Rager would’ve lost it all regardless. Because, she was dressed in this tight dress, the type of dress that a girl like her deserves, expensive, ornate, sexy; but, she was a special case, she’d never worn something so ornate and so revealing, and the mirror would reflect a little doe desperately pulling on the hems that revealed her taut thick thighs, the cusp of her petite bosom, and any effort to cover was an ultimately futile effort, this was something she had come to terms with, before leaving her small studio.

And, as if she were in a Wong-Kar Wai movie, she entered the bus: all glammed out in a shitty environment. And the nervous eyes in the bus quickly looked away, intimidated heavily; still, some passengers hoped that they could get a glimpse with the spasm of their pupils to her direction - that’s how good she looked.

She sat down mindfully, crossing her legs - alarmingly aware of the stares. Her face adopted a natural blush - a face too beautiful to hide. Her eyes, set beneath her delicately arched eyebrows, stared at the reflection of herself from the wide glass. She’d never be able to understand her own beauty, too often enveloped in imposter syndrome, and the only person, Mr. Rager, would be the one, who could tell her the beauty of her cascading black hair; her large eyes, accentuated by a deep-set gaze; the beauty with which she carried herself, awkward, yet enigmatically, always, the most beautiful person in the room.

Mr. Rager, gaunt from the opioids, still looked herculean, a fitful combination that fit any clothing piece. With an androgynous face that was covered with sharp eyebrows, dark under eyes, high cheek-bones, and a sort of asymmetrical face that was almost better than the conventional symmetry: in summary, he was someone you couldn’t miss. This inherited comeliness comes with its risks, from the ease of life to the women, things that Mr. Rager succumbed to in violent fashion. Other than that, his preparation was pretty rapid, hopping into his entirely dark-tinted - for obvious reasons - car and set off into the gentle night.

Ryujin landed at the closest bus point to the meeting point. Her dress was unsuited for the weather, and her body began going frigid under a chilly summer day. That’s until a black car, a mercedes s-class, stopped ahead of her. It was nothing to be worried about, she’d just pass by it, acting as if she didn’t see it. However, the figure that exited the car was all too familiar: Mr. Rager.

“Ryujin.” Mr. Rager took a look, scanning her body - making it all too obvious with his pupils - instantly realized why he’s been thinking constantly about her - she’s just the most beautiful person.

And Ryujin, the way her knees slightly folded from seeing Mr. Rager, a slight spasm in her joints - she really missed him. And her hands crossed together between her loins, her eyes opened slightly larger.

“Don’t be so nervous.” He chuckled, that chuckle, that deep chuckle - Ryujin could feel the heat in her core. “Come in, you still have a long way to go,” she gladly accepted, entering into the car: feeling the soft seats, the fragrance of the unusual smell of vanilla and sandalwood (in a car?), and the overwhelming luxury around her surroundings.

“Be sure to dial the temperature or dial whatever you need, I’m sure you were pretty cold outside.” Mr. Rager said, aware of how Ryujin is not one to engage in something without permission - only if he knew what she’d done, the moment before she left, that day. However as he talked, all Ryujin could respond with was a chuckle, she was too focused on how the sentence sounded, how his eyes placed on her face, and occasionally, how it landed on her chest. And that was just the pinnacle for her.

He couldn't stop his gaze, this fermentation of a pending calamity was bounding closer and closer, and thrilled both parties to no end - they couldn’t even hide their own temptations behind the screen of a platonic hang out. By the seconds, the passing seconds, they got bolder, he got bolder. He let his eyes wander far down, her creamy white legs, her meticulous maintenance of it all. And Ryujin was wallowing in it all, his sharp gaze made her feel warmer, wetter - enticing her to dial down the temperature, a contrast from when she was so cold outside.

Still, they’d say nothing, despite it all. The silent hum of the tire scraping against the asphalt was all the credence, the distraction, they were allowed. The rest was this endorphin-filled, endorphin-crazed environment where both of them knew that they were pushing too quickly, given the fact that this companionship began from a suicide attempt.

Still, there’s this slip of time, where they could, possibly, love each other. Though, before these exponential entropic forces caused all sorts of calamity, they arrived at the spot. This run-down complex, that hid a quaint restaurant with private rooms, was a source of nostalgia for Mr. Rager. Ryujin followed, climbing the stairs, ascending just behind him, pulling down on her dress, sticking her thighs together as she climbed (a natural precaution). The restaurant was exactly that, quaint. They entered one of the tight-fitting cubicles, where they sat across from each other, a small sitting-table separated their bodies - unfortunately.

“Don’t be too worried about this restaurant, it may be run down, but it’s a great experience.”

“Oh, no, no, I’m not worried about that, I frequent far more run down establishments than this.” As the words left her tongue, Ryujin cringed, frequent? What am I? A prostitute? Her eyebrows knitted.

“Relax Ryujin,” he chuckled, “enjoy yourself, I’ll pay for it all.”

“That’s the first step to the debt?” Ryujin grinned, loosening, gaining her natural confidence.

“Perhaps. Come on, go crazy.” There it is, that nice toothy grin, her cheeks ripple into some sort of whiskers - god, he’d do anything for that, again and again. 

The dishes came, oily dishes full of food, and Ryujin’s eyes glazed in excitement. After a brief, too quick, moment of eating, both of them leaned back - absolutely full.

“You got a bird’s stomach for your ambition, Ryujin.”

“And you’re a head taller than me, but you’re leaning as well!”

“Good point.” He chuckled, fighting indigestion through it.

“I don’t even like oily food.”

“Me too.”

This time, a collaborative laugh.

Mr. Rager paid the meager bill, leaving all the food to rot on the table - the plight of abundance.

–

“Anything you want to do today?” Mr. Rager asked, putting on his seatbelt.

“It’s really late, I really wanted to punish your wallet, you played your cards right going out so late..” Ryujin relaxed into the seat, fully comfortable, in-tune.

“Well, if you don’t have any plans. Mind if I go the reservation for us?”

“What reservation?”

“That’d ruin the surprise, Ryujin.” The ambient sound of the tires against the ground in combination with the dark night - the darkest night before morning - was an even more intense atmosphere.

This peaceful atmosphere, intense, yet peaceful, again, just like the hospital visits. This interesting continuation of happiness, so foreign to his life, was something that he could get used to. His forearm pressed against the storage compartment, letting his hand spill over; his other arm was loosely steering, as loose as the gentle dark night. 

As he trailed the road, occasional peeks at Ryujin showed her transition to sleep: drowsy eyelids that infrequently close for periods of time, then, longer periods, then, sleep. 

Who was this angel? This angel that wrought Mr. Rager all manners of hope, of happiness, of reflection. If he hadn’t been so stubborn about his affliction towards personal information, maybe, just maybe he’d understand her more, this girl - so beautifully clad in a flowery dress.

Is this love, this elusive feeling? How could it be so cruel? So cruel as to bring it to me at a time so random, and so heavily…

Again, he forgot his bad habit: speaking his thoughts out loud.

He realized too late, and he could feel her large eyes staring at him, confused. 

Yet, and yet, he felt the gentle warmth of another palm on his forearm - a reassuring grip.

“Min, I love you too.”

CHAPTER III: No Longer Mr. Rager

I want to kiss you on your space below your navalette

The place you keep so neat, so moist like a towelette

Ryujin, her beautifully beady eyes looked at you, as she lifted your forearm, planting little kisses all over it.

“Oh Ryujin.”

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for that, Min.” A statement that left her lips as she continued worshiping his forearm.

Jesus, this woman.

He pulls into the closest parking spot, giving not a single fuck that there were a few cars there - all likely empty, anyway.

And, with all pretenses and courtesy removed, the forearm that was so judiciously worshiped, wrapped around her nape, pulling her into a searing kiss. That deep moan, that accepting moan as his mouth opened against hers. He almost forgot the most essential question - suddenly, slightly pulling away from the kiss.

“How’d you find out about my name, Ryujin?” Min asked.

“A woman doesn’t disclose her secrets, besides, how could my love not have a name?” Cheesy, feisty, what a woman.

“Good point.” Another searing kiss, dynamic, evolving, every step more depravedly romantic than the previous.

He was pretty sure that he’d break something, in the middle compartment, that separated you from total body connection. Again, you pull away, this time, it brought out a desperate whine out of her, her arms that wrapped desperately around you kept pulling you in - like a vortex.

She understood the memo as soon as he exited the car - love connection. This time, with a wider space, still constricted, was the best they could do, and they’d relish this extra space. Min, naturally assumed dominance over Ryujin, her body acclimated against his aggressive pulls and pushes - all for the pleasure of Ryujin, and she didn’t take it lightly, each breath heavy with the densest pleasure. Oh, oh, oh, keep manhandling me. She’d whisper. And he’d obey.

As Ryujin, with her tight dress, splayed against the seats on her back, took initiative to take off Min’s clothes, button-by-button. “Oh I’ll fuck you so good, Ryujin, so fucking good.” He’d repeat, over and over, and Ryujin would get more aroused by each iteration: “Yes, yes! Please.” Occasional soft bites were felt all over his collarbone, his neck, his earlobe. “Possessive little bird, I’m not going anywhere.” He caressed her head, making sure that he’d also mark her, a heavy hickey on her neck.

And Ryujin fucking loves it, she softly caresses him, soft grasps against his back, locking her taut legs around him, begging for continuations. And, Min would obey, in his own rebellious way, tightly grabbing her breasts - hidden behind the dress - then pressing kisses all over her neck, nearly all of them hickeys. 

“Fuck the reservation,” he grunted, it was an expensive reservation, but he doesn’t give a fuck: Ryujin’s right under him, begging for him to ravage her taut body. And she replies, “That’s right, that’s right, mister, master!” The end of her sentence was capitalized by Min’s heavy grasp on her breasts.

“That’s right, little bird.” Low grunts against her ears, his thick shaft, covered, grinded against her body, while his mouth assaulted hers.

And she cums, her head turns up, looking wherever - straining her neck - to release her pleasure. “Ngghhh!!!” A heavy whine, so enthusiastically human, straining against the seats that held her back. “Holy shit! That was so amazin-” enough talking, he’d motion, locking mouths together.

Silent moans, “mmmf..” hummed against his tongue, Ryujin was so turned on, and he’d love to fulfill all her wishes. Each rotation of his hip against hers were accentuated by Ryujin’s deep moan, squeaky moans, the moans that she couldn’t hide by covering her mouth. His hand, fixed onto her breasts, finally ventured below, feeling her lithe abdomen - the slightest abs - then letting his hand rest on her pelvis, just above her pussy. 

He finally released himself from the hypnotizing kiss, staring at her body - mostly still covered by the dress: now, that, won’t do. He pulled on the bottom hem of her dress, revealing her wet core, an embarrassed squeak along with it all. “You’re so fucking hot, Jesus,” he had a taste of what her body looked like, and he just can’t get enough. All precaution thrown out the window, the expensive dress was about to be ruined, and Ryujin - ever resourceful - seemed to allow it. He pulled the upper hem of the dress down, breaking the straps that could’ve been removed easily - this is a statement, I own you - Ryujin seemed to get the memo - all beady and begging.

Her soft breasts, creamy, smooth, with pink nubs spilled out from the tight dress. He pressed both his hands, all over her body, exploring the transitions from her taut skin to the scrunched dress, making sure to remember every facet of it all. “How badly do you want it?” He whispered, wholly focused on her body, subtly noticing her wet core, the outline of her pussy growing clearer by the second. And Ryujin didn’t even have to answer the question, locking her legs around his waist, frantically trying to get her hips on his covered shaft - yeah, she’s fiending for it.

And Min, ever the indulgent, gently moved and hovered his hand over her neck, waiting for that confirmation, that wink, that nod - and, Ryujin, calming down from the intense pleasure, nodded. That first grasp, tight, measuring her tolerance, measuring just the moment when the eyes go back to her eyes - and he seemed to completely pinpoint it, that slight spasm of her body, and her inner thighs are just soaked.

Finally, Min decided it’s time to give her sopping cunt some attention. Peeling the layer to the side, wet with the highest arousal, hid her bright pink core - and it, her core, was begging to be sated, pulsing, glistening, beautifully fragrant.

Firstly, he let a single finger prod, then entered. And Ryujin was already shaking, her eyes went straight to the back of her head, and her neck vascularized - all veiny - from the soft choke. It would’ve been too cruel to give her too much pleasure, so he took his hand off her throat, instead, patting her head - letting her know that she's doing so good, so good. 

In and out, motion of the ocean, slick covering his finger the deeper he went, earning the most virile moans out of her cute mouth. “You like that, huh?” He dug deeper, until his knuckle - a loud moan. She had never felt anything like this, her two fingers could never compare, and she’s a virgin after all, and she’s about to get deflowered in the backseat of a car - and, she loves it. 

In a swift motion, where Min continued his manhandling of Ryujin, he pulled his finger out - in a hook motion to agitate her g-spot, earning a girlish yelp - then, let Ryujin taste her own juices on his finger.

“You’re doing so good.” Min whispered, so overly joyed by Ryujin, how her petite body convulsed in pleasures beyond what he could ever imagine.

“I know.” Ryujin replied, defiant to the end. She knew exactly how this inspired him to be rougher - and she loves it. He gripped her waist, gripping harder, letting her firm abdomen mold against his grip, dug deeper into her cunt, placing his thumb over her engorged clit. One. Two. Three motions around her clit, three motions of his finger into her cunt - before she squirted onto the side window, far more girlish yelps, and desperate panting. This time, Min with his wet hand, spread it all over Ryujin’s face - the essence of her arousal, via his hand, spread on her face, where makeup was placed so thoughtfully, only to be ruined by her own squirt. She’s panting amidst all this, unable to process anymore than her overwhelming second orgasm. 

“You’re a fucking mess, Ryujin, cumming this quickly?”

“You made me this way…” She huffed, “you fucking brute.”

This time, all Min does is press against her pelvis - specifically, the pelvic bone, where just below is her g-spot, and the slight pressure, was absolutely deadly. All the while, he declared, “That’s right, little bird. I’ll press you against the seat, face-down, slam into your ass with all the force I can muster - then, when I’m deep, too deep, cervix-level deep, I’ll release all my cum into your precious little womb.”

“Nghhh~~!” And another squirt, where her legs closed together, toes curled, and her head hung back. While Ryujin was trying to recover, Min placed a quick and wet kiss on her lips, but that'd be the only romanticism that Min allowed her. Quickly, he let her sit up, pulling her by her thin wrists. Then, he pulled down his own pants - letting his shaft free from the restraints of his tight clothing, the painful onset of an early blue balls in its conception, that was only fuel to the fire to fuck Ryujin good, and hard.

“Sit on my lap facing me, Ryujin.” He demanded. And no matter how much Ryujin came, squirted, panted, and yelped - she’d always oblige in Min’s demands. She quickly hooked her other leg over him, in a hovered position rather than sitting. This time, he passed his fingers through her wet hair, letting it pass behind her ear, “safe word is Mimetic,” and he earned a soft nod from Ryujin, and consent to batter her sopping, wet, sticky, engorged pussy.

He slithered a hand around her waist, holding her in place; then, placed his other hand around her neck, just on the nape. He pulled her in for one last kiss. The last bit of eye contact before penetration, and all that could be seen in Ryujin’s eyes - beady and all wet from pleasure - was a fiending desire to be fucked silly.

Slowly, he let her descend, right up until his tip kissed her wet folds. She winced from her sensitivity, just from the touch. And that’s when it flashed in her eyes, she wasn’t sure if she was ready, given the fact that she hadn’t told him about her virginity. Before she could realize her thoughts through speech, she felt the intense heat of something foreign entering - something so thick and large - and it wrought every emergency signal in her brain - all of them, positive. “Oh–OH, fuck…” is all that Ryujin squeaked out before he pushed in deeper, feeling her gentle pussy wrap around his shaft - all wet and moist. A constant sizzling whisper could be heard from Ryujin as he buried his cock deeper, until, halfway in, where she let out a deep moan. “Holy fuck,” she moaned again, deeper. Holy fuck is right, her body was so resistant, tight right at the start to the end, yet, the way it also sucked his shaft into its wet folds - Min was already addicted.

“Ryujin, you’re so tight.” He said as he kept nudging Ryujin to move farther down, waiting for her glistening pussy to completely wrap around his shaft - then, eventually, completely devour her in the backseats of his own car. Yet, as he went through it with her, he began clueing in on the note - Ryujin is very.. Too sensitive. Why Ryujin focused on getting herself down, skewering herself on his length - desperately breathing, her chest dilating in and out. Through it all, as Ryujin tried to, adorably, hide her inexperience, Min pressed a compassionate kiss right into her mouth. 

“I love that. The fact that you’re so horny for a virgin.” He whispered against her mouth, breathing hotly, immeasurably hard.

And Ryujin needn’t respond at all, all she needed to do - well, did - was reach out with her tongue for his mouth, with those prey eyes, begging to be taken, testing her fickle fate - a sign that he needed to kiss her, devour her, again and again until hell freezes over. And finally, during the desperate haze of a reunification of mouths, he finally buried himself straight to the hilt, in her pink, glistening, sopping, beautiful core. And slowly, the wet sounds of sex, so blatantly loud in this claustrophobic environment, reverberated inside the car; the wet sounds of her moans covered this hazy atmosphere, coming from her lips that detached from his mouth, streaks of saliva still connecting them both; and that feeling, this mutual feeling of utter bliss, how her back bent - contorted - into every pump.

They couldn’t stop staring at each other, two perverts, two soulmates who couldn’t go for a second without looking at each other. Even when Min pushed up harder, letting his full length pass through her virginal hole, they still maintained that sensual eye contact - that essential eye contact.

“You fuck me so good, Min.” Ryujin said as her two small breasts jolted from every pump, every contraction of his length leaving her one step closer to ruin - until her eyes went back to that dangerous place, that orgasm line. And the resulting pressure, that heavenly pressure, pressed against his shaft so strongly, that his tight-lipped mouth let out a few growls of pleasure, a sign that he’s close to painting her womb in baby batter. 

Ryujin, ever the caretaker, felt the convulsions, and began pressing desperate kisses over his face - anywhere she could reach, whilst patting him on the back. And Min would never admit he liked it, that he loved it, and he didn’t need to admit it, Ryujin already knew. 

And she knew exactly, that this was the final straw that she needed to break before she was filled with his essence, the catalyst of that final convulsion. Min immediately seized, grabbing Ryujin in a bearhug - one that could’ve bruised her - and pumped hard, that final wet sound of sex, before, rope after rope of release entered deep inside her, splashing against her cervix, filling her womb.

“FUCKKK!!” He growled, he hadn’t felt this good since ever. And the same for Ryujin, who cried a leaky yelp, where her last bits of squirt flowed down the slightest nook from their love connection. They were static for a moment, relishing in the deviant copulation they engaged in, where, almost, the condensation of their lovemaking was visible in the air of the car.

“I love you.” She kissed him again, staring all lovey-dovey, as if her pupils had gone and turned into hearts.

“I love you.” He stared at her, happy, smiling.

“I love you more.” She added, exaggerating her laugh, trying to tease.

“I concede.” He replied.

“Heyyy! You’re supposed to say it back!” “I’m more for physical demonstrations. Wanna see?”

“Uh no. Please. It feels like it's about to fall off.” She was mentioning her pussy, all swollen and gummy to the eye.

“I love it, it’s so beautiful.” He replied, fully serious, digging his mouth into her neck, he was absolutely crazy about her.

“Min, I gotta take a shower, you’re being gross-” that’s when Min pressed a finger onto her - still engorged - clit, and proceeded to say, “I’m fucking crazy about you.” 

“Ngh! Stop! Seriously, it’s about to fall off.” Unfortunately, the collected accumulation of their love juices swiftly dripped down as Ryujin jolted back from him touching her clit.

“Isn’t this gonna stain your car until the end of time?” She stared at the significant puddle of who knows what.

“Let it. A commemoration of our intense copulation.”

Ryujin blushed, quickly grabbing the tissues that Min offered her, and wiping off all that she released, her entire lower half, essentially, was wet. And Min got aroused from watching Ryujin cleaning herself - her little winces when she slightly grazed her cunt only adding fuel to the fire. “Clean my cock.” Min demanded, but when Ryujin grabbed the tissues - ready to oblige - he replied, “with your mouth.”

To be continued...

Ahhh, I love cliffhangers. Enjoy waiting for 10 months! (just kidding!)

Honestly, I wanted to take months with this project, but I just can't seem to stop myself (from writing mid stuff).

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The House Guest 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: an old acquaintance calls in a favour, leaving you with an unexpected house guest.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“When I said I owed you,” you whisper and look over your shoulder. 

“Talk as quiet as you want, he’s got super hearing. Can’t even squeak out a silent but deadly with this guy,” Sam chuckles. 

“Wow, that’s gross,” you crinkle your nose. 

“I can be a nasty boy.” 

“Not better,” you give him an apprehensive look as you face him. “I saw him on the news.” 

“Hey, I was there too,” Sam chirps. 

“I know that but...” 

“He got a bit trigger happy. We’re just waiting for things to blow over. He needs a calming personality.” 

“So not you,” you retort. 

“No, not me. I’m into choking but not by him,” he snickers. 

“I can hear you,” the man leaning on the car hood snaps back as the sucker in his mouth hits his teeth. 

“Oh, I know,” Sam shoots a finger gun in his direction. “Also, he’s giving up smoking so he’s a bit testy.” 

“No, I spent eight hours in a car with you so I’m pissed off,” the grumbly sidekick hurls back. 

You look between them. Sam Wilson, the new Cap, superhero, avengers, comedian, and Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier, assassin, and... mystery. You should refuse. You owe him but that much? A near-fugitive in your house? 

“Sam, I don’t exactly got a guest room,” you cross your arms. 

“Look, if the dame don’t wanna take me, don’t twist her arm,” Bucky sneers and bites into the sucker, scraping the stick with his teeth. “I can figure myself out.” 

“That’s what you said before the explosion. I’m not falling for it again, man,” Sam shoots back and shakes his head. He puts his hands on his hips and faces you. “You’re not just doing a service to me, but to America.” 

“Yes, okay, but this is Canada.” 

His eyes drift in realisation and his lashes flutter, “right, but we’re allies.” He looks at you again and smiles, “I thought Canadians were nice.” 

You roll your eyes. “Goddamnit. Fine.” 

“Like I said,” Bucky approaches, “I can go somewhere else. I don’t wanna be a burden.” 

“It’s not you,” you assure him. “There isn’t much space, that’s all. If you’re fine with that, so am I.” 

“I told him, it’s not a big deal,” Bucky huffs. “But he insists.” 

“I have to insist. I’m the Captain now.” 

“You keep saying,” he turns on Sam. “So why don’t you get that shield and we’ll see if you’re really up to that title.” 

“Alright, alright,” you step between them. You’re not a fan of conflict. Sam knows that and that’s why he brought him here. “No need to argue. You got a couch,” you look at Bucky then turn to the other man, “and you have a long ride home.” 

“Wait, you’re kicking me out?” Sam says. 

“If you stay any longer, I won’t stop him. I said he could stay, I said nothing about mediating whatever this is,” you wiggle your finger between them. 

Bucky snorts. He’s just as bad as Sam. They seem to only know how to goad the other.  

“Fair. I mean, you don’t want this guy getting any grumpier. He’s already such a treat,” Sam smirks. 

“Enough, I just told you,” you wag your index at him. “Well, nice to meet ya,” you turn and offer your hand to Bucky, “welcome to Canada.” 

“Thanks,” he says, though you can sense him staring down the other man. 

“Sam, have a safe trip. You need water or anything for the road?” You offer over your shoulder. 

“Nah, I think I’m good. A nice ride home alone. With good music. Think I’m set.” He cackles. 

“You wouldn’t know good music if it shot you in the face,” Bucky growls. 

“Dude, go get your bag out of my car,” Sam snips. “Good riddance, is what I say.” 

“Drive safe,” you shake your head as you walk toward the house. “I was in the middle of something.” 

You climb the porch steps and leave the inner door open as the screen door snaps shut behind you. Out of sight, you stop to shake off the adrenaline. You only realise then how the unexpected rival stirred you up. You weren’t ready for Sam but especially not a houseguest. Still, the only reason you have this place is because of that man. You can do this. 

You take a breath and go back to the kitchen. If Sam trusts Bucky, you can too. You’re not one to welcome in strangers, especially men, but this is different. And even if he asked, it wasn’t much of a choice. 

You wash your hands and dry them before pushing your sleeves back up. The striped button-up isn’t exactly your Sunday best. You add breadcrumbs to the bowl of raw beef as you hear footsteps on the porch. The door opens slowly and gently hits the frame. You listen to your guest as he sighs in the entryway. 

The house is small. One-floor, a single bedroom, a bathroom, a living room and a kitchen with a small dining table that doubles as your workspace. It isn’t much, but it’s yours. And it’s history. Your family’s. 

You sense him hovering just outside the doorway. You glance behind yourself and hang your hands over the brim of the bowl. You still need to chop the veggies but that can wait. It isn’t his fault Sam decided this would be the balance in the scales. 

“Let me show you around.” You cross the kitchen as he peers through.  

His beard is dark, his hair overgrown and pushed back behind his ears, and tugs at the bottom of his denim jacket. He looks skittish as you approach. He has a duffel bag in his hand. 

“Look, sorry if I came off short. You know how Sam can be,” you say. 

“I do. He assumes a lot,” he mutters. 

“Sure does. So, like I said, it’s not a big house. Kitchen here,” you point over your shoulder, “living room behind you, bathroom down the hall and the bedroom. There’s a back door. Yard’s bigger than the house.” 

“Got it.” 

“So, you’ll have to camp out on the couch but good news, it’s from 1987 so it folds out,” you squeeze by him and lead the way into the front room. 

“Beats a full barracks,” he comments. 

You nod and peek over at him. “Guess that makes sense.” 

He sniffs, “thanks. Really.” 

“Again, not too much,” you gesture to the room. “I gotta finish the meatloaf.” 

“Think I can handle it,” he affirms. 

[unriding]

KINKTOBER DAY 23 — YANDERE. umemiya hajime x f!reader ﾉ nsfw ﾉ yandere!umemiya, overstimulation, size kink, marking, soft possessiveness, praise, creampies, reader wears a skirt, vague mention of catcalling (not from umemiya)

umemiya’s drive to protect you has no bounds. just one threat to your safety is enough to send him into overdrive- and he won’t relax until he’s properly ensured your wellbeing once again. if you’re clinging onto him so tight while screaming that you love him.. then that’s enough proof, isn’t it?

Umemiya hears it before you do. In fact, he’s pretty much certain that you become entirely oblivious to whatever’s around you whenever he’s there.

It’s endearing to see how much you trust in him to protect you. If he were being entirely honest, he’s long lost track of how long it’s been since anyone has given him a reason to loop an arm around your waist and hold you tightly against him like this.

He gives you tight hugs all the time, sure, but even you seem to immediately notice the change in the air as soon as you turn to ask him if he’s okay. He’s holding you differently than usual.

It’s more common that he hears the townspeople gushing about how cute the two of you are- always something about young and innocent love. The usual. That’s why today, when he hears a group of guys point out how short your skirt is— questioning if you’re wearing it only because you want others to stare at you, something inside him snaps.

It’s a rude reminder that no matter how strong he is, people still have the potential to hurt what’s most important to him, and he would rather die than fail to protect someone like you.

“….Haji…” your voice comes out slurred from the way you’ve buried your face into his shoulder, arms tightly wrapped around him as pushes deep inside you— gives you slow and deep thrusts because that’s about all your body can handle right now. “‘S so much…”

“Is it?” His voice is sweet, still filled with love and adoration and you can tell he’s smiling against your skin. He’s always smiling when he’s with you.

If it weren’t for the subtle breathlessness in his voice, you wouldn’t have even guessed that he’s spent the last few hours fucking you in every position possible until you’ve lost both your voice and strength.

“You can handle me, love,” he reassures you, “you’re doing so good.”

He bottoms out- leaves you full and gasping, then stops moving entirely. A thought briefly crosses his mind- that maybe if he stays deep inside you like this, you’d be left with no other choice but to commit the shape of him to memory.

Your cunt would remember him clearly after this, won’t it? He’s been training her nice and good- making sure that no one else could even dare come near what’s so obviously his.

Marking every inch of what’s his- that’s all he’s doing. For your own good. To ensure that no one hurts you.

Your body is littered with marks, deep hues of purples and reds across the span of your neck. He’s even marked up your collarbones, down to your tits, and oh— that’s right. He needs to do your thighs next. His thighs- he corrects himself. Because you’re his.

His to love, and his to protect. He won’t let anything happen to you under his watch, so all you need to do is just stay close to him.

Just like this.

“You can’t just stop..” you pout. “Don’t be mean..”

A weak push of your hips is all you can manage with the energy you still have left- to which he chuckles. You’ve always been too cute for your own good. “Sorry, sorry.” He laughs as if he wasn’t just trying to claim every bit of your body as his. Pulls out and thrusts into you particularly hard— just the way he knows you like it.

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream when a mixture of your juices and his cum spill out, drips lewdly onto the mattress beneath you. “Oh, look at that.” Umemiya whispers. “You’re stuffed to the brim, huh? C’mere. That can’t be comfortable.”

“A-ah… ‘m so full...” you pant, heat rising to your cheeks when he pulls back to bring your hands above your head- let him admire how pretty you look when you’re too fucked out to even try to think. Just beautiful.

And he lets you know— dips down to rest his weight on his elbows, lower and lower until his chest is pressed up against your own. He has to be this close to you— can’t have it any other way. The closer, the safer you’ll be.

“Haji..” you murmur, arms coming back to hold him again as soon as he resumes his movements, settling for slow and deliberate thrusts. He wants you to feel the cum ooze out of you. It’s his— he’s the one who shot it deep inside you earlier. His cum that you’re filled with. Only his. He wants you to remember it.

“Haji..” you repeat, and he finally responds with a low, curious hum against your neck. “I-I love you.”

“Yeah? You do?” You feel him smile against your neck once more, lips peppering kisses along the marks that litter your skin. “I love you more. Love you so much,” he plants a wet kiss right under your ear, and you shiver.

“More than you could ever imagine.”

[vivwritesfics]

Better Than He Ever Was - MV1

This gif makes me feral - I am on my KNEES

Y/N is pregnant and Max is sweating

Related works: Mini Me Prodigy

When Y/N Verstappen found out she was pregnant with Fabian, Max was terrified. He was utterly, utterly terrified.

He played it well, cheering and happy smiles when Y/N showed him the pregnancy test. To everybody on the outside, he was the overjoyed father to be, talking about Y/N and their baby on the way any chance he got.

There were very few people who saw beneath the facade Max was putting on. The first was Christian Horner, who himself was like a father to Max. The next was Charles Leclerc, who was way too excited at rhe prospect of being an uncle that he forgot he wouldn't actually be related to the baby.

Both said the same thing: that Max should talk to Y/N about it.

But where was he to begin? How did he tell her, after seeing how happy she was, that he wasn't ready to have a baby.

When she started showing? Oh boy.

It was never something Y/N wanted to keep hidden. As soon as she had all the tests she had taken come back positive, she posted something to all of her social media's. Max did, too, playing his part well.

Y/N didn't wear baggy clothes to hide her bump; she showed it off with pride. At every single grand prix she'd be standing beside her husband, hand over her stomach and the press took pictures of them.

Most husbands, when their wife's baby bump began showing, would be over the moon. But when Y/N started showing, it just made Max more fearful.

Y/Ns very first proper indication of the was when they were discussing baby names.

Any moment she got, Y/N was writing down potential names. She had at least twenty of each.

"How do you like Felix?" Y/N asked him as they watched a movie together. Max had been sim racing all day; this was the first proper moment she'd had to spend with him. "Or Daniel?"

"Daniel can be the middle name if it's a boy," Max said as he fed her a Malteaser.

Y/N moved over to her list of girls names. "If it's a girl, I liked Mila. Thought Mila Verstappen had a really nice ring to it."

Max just hummed.

It was two weeks after that Y/N finally sat him down.

"What's going on with you?" She asked, her hand resting on her bump. That morning her snack of choice had been stroopwafels, and she'd accidentally finished the entire box (but who could blame her? They're addictive).

"What do you mean?" Asked Max as he lifted the box to see what he was inside. Nothing, empty. He made a mental note to buy more.

A terrible, horrible feeling settled in Y/Ns stomach. "Please, Maxie," she placed her hand over his, rubbing her thumb over his wrist. "Tell me what's going on. I'm begging you!"

Max let out a huff. He hated himself. "I love you," he said, which definitely wasn't concerning. "I love you so much and I know how excited you are to have our baby, but I don't know if I can do it."

Her heart was beating so loud she was sure Max could hear it. "Wha-what are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say that I'm so fucking scared, Y/N. I'm terrified of being a dad. What if I raise our child like my dad raised me and the kid ends up like me? I'd never be able to forgive myself if that happened."

Oh. This wasn't a dire as Y/N thought it was. This was something she could deal with. "Come here," she said softly and tried to pull his chair closer. Max shuffled over. He let Y/N wrap her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Do you remember last summer, when we went on holiday with my sister and her kids? Do you remember how they loved you so much that they wouldn't leave you alone?"

They'd rented out a villa. Max and Y/N had just come back from their honeymoon when Y/N's sister had invited them away.

As soon as they had their things unpacked, the kids grabbed their uncle Max's hands and dragged him into the pool. "Let's race!" The oldest shouted. Max was more than happy to oblige. He raced them to the other side of the pool and back, letting them win, of course.

When Y/N and his sister started on lunch, Max was blowing up the inflatable pool toys and looking after the baby. He was a natural with all three of them. Y/N watched them out of the window as she buttered the bread and passed it to her sister. That was when she realised how wonderful of a father Max was going to be. That was when she realised she wanted to have his children.

By the end of the holiday, the children were obsessed with him. According to Y/N's sister they didn't stop talking about him until at least two weeks after the holiday.

Max nodded his head. At first he'd been secretly reluctant to entertain the kids. But he loved it, and he actually found it fun. Of course, it wouldn't be the same when it was his own child.

"You're going to be an amazing father, Max. You're so kind and caring and kids love you. Plus, you're aware of how shitty your dad was to you, you know what you have to differently," she said, running her fingers through his hair. "I'll be there with you every step of the way," Y/N whispered and kissed the top of her head.

Max was still terrified, but he was trying not to be. But Y/N saw him change. He really did become that cheering and happy father he was pretending to be at the start.

Aside from Formula One, Max's life became getting Y/N whatever she and the baby were craving. Stroopwafels, mostly.

They discussed names more when Max became more comfortable. He was a big fan of Nora. Nora Sophie Verstappen. It had a very nice ring to it, Max thought. Little baby Nora.

They'd struggled to settle on a name for a boy. After Max had suggested his mothers name for the baby's middle name, Y/N was afraid Jos' name was going to be thrown into the mix. Not after all of Max's fears and anxiety. They'd decided Hugo, Hugo Verstappen was to be his name.

If it was up to Y/N, Jos wouldn't be in the child's life. But, of course, it wasn't just up to her. It was a decision she and Max had to make together.

When they found out they were having a little boy, Y/N and Max were over the moon. They decorated the nursery, painting the walls to be like a Formula One track. The bottom third was all grass, the middle was the track and the rest was blue skies with fluffy clouds.

The track went all the way around the room, with little race cars painted onto the track. There was a little Red Bull with a 33 on it, and a little Ferrari with a 16. It was a friend who painted it for them, going into intricate details for the cars and garages.

And then Y/N went into labour.

All of those fears Max had managed to get past came flooding back. His wife was about to give birth to his little boy.

Max wasn't much help through the delivery. Actually, through most of it he wasn't allowed in the delivery room, since he was panicking too much.

He wasn't a Hugo. That was what Y/N and Max decided the moment he was born. He was a Fabian. Fabian Hugo Verstappen. He was the most gorgeous little boy in the world. That was all Max could think as he stared at him, cradles in his wife's arms.

His son. His boy.

"Welcome to the world, Fabian Hugo Verstappen."

[obsessedwrhys]

Hello, could you create a headcanon for ROTTMNT where April saves the reader (gender-neutral) from being kidnapped by a Yokai and brings the reader to the hideout without telling the turtles? What would their reaction be?

MEETING THE BROTHERS FOR THE FIRST TIME

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ fluff, bit of angst? Reader is gn!! (Sorry this was rushed ☹)

Background

What that Yokai wanted from you was unclear, you were simply on your way home when suddenly you found yourself to be cornered by a scary looking creature. All you knew was that it wasn't human.

It started shouting at you, demanding of something that you had stolen from them but you were unfamiliar with the description of the object they were after as you had no memory of coming across such item. It was when they lost their anger and about to lash at you, potentially taking you away, your classmate, April was able to jump to your rescue.

With the Yokai out cold, she grabbed your hand and began taking you somewhere. Somewhere she said will be safe for the both of you. However you didn't expect it to be the smelly odour of the sewers you would be hiding into. After a few walks and turns, you stumbled upon what seemed to be an underground lair. You were too astonished by the place to even notice the four creatures staring at you.

RAPH

Out of all of the brothers, he was quick to pull April aside and ask her why she thought it was a great idea to bring a random HUMAN into their secret lair.

It was when she explained how you were being targeted by a Yokai that caught his attention. You? Being targeted by a Yokai? What could a Yokai need from a human like you?

Despite his unease having a stranger in the lair, he decided to let you stay when April assured him you were a good person. If she trusts you enough then he'll trust you too.

Seeing how April explains to you this whole new world to you, he could only watch as your expression changes every second from the pure shock of all of this.

He had to admit, he had expected you to freak out and run away but surprisingly you approached him and his brothers to introduce yourself properly.

"My name's (Y/N), it's nice to meet you. April says you guys are the good guys" You'd say and he couldn't help but stare at you. You're not afraid of them??

After the events of that day, you'd come by often to understand this new world of Yokai better, also for the sake of understanding why you would be targeted by one in the first place.

You were kind, patient and not to mention respectful towards them. That's why he decided to offer you some self defense lessons to ensure you were capable of protecting yourself.

As the eldest and being the one bearing so much responsibilities, he appreciates it when you would take the time to hear his rants. Like he never thought he'd find someone who would just get how he feels.

You guys would definitely do relaxing activities together to calm your minds. He now finds it more fun when you're doing it with him.

Yoga, knitting, making tea? Count him in!!

That's why it comes easily that his uncertainty towards you would change. He'd feel himself starting to feel more comfortable around you, at the same he'd also be protective of you since he now considers you a close friend.

"If you ever need anything, I'm here for you, you can always count on me to be there"

LEO

The moment you came inside the lair, your presence had him raise his brows out of interest. Like who are you? And why are you here?

Second to Mikey, he would also approach you to introduce himself. He had to admit, he was just happy to befriend another human.

He literally didn't listen to a single thing to what Raph said about you, all he knew was that you needed safety and was being targeted by a Yokai. But hey, just because you're here to figure things out, that doesn't mean you can't make your stay fun at the same time!

He'd be all over you, like whatever it is that you're doing, he wants to include himself in it. But if you really need the privacy or concentration to do something, he'll back off.

Once you become his friend, be ready for the weekly rants about the different varieties of comics he'd finish reading. If you happen to do the same, he'd be glad to lend you his collection ONLY IF you return it without a scratch.

Honestly, I like to think that he's the one who constantly tries to get you in trouble with his crazy activities. That's because Raph will let him slide easily if you were involved. He likes to boast about how it's a 169 IQ strategy but what he doesn't realise is the pile of chores he'll have to do after every attempt.

He's aware of you being targeted by this unknown Yokai but that doesn't stop him from taking you to the Hidden City. He's a risk taker, what did you expect?

He has probably lost you once or more and it always costs him a lot of trouble to finally find you. Just imagine at the end of the day, he'd be begging you not to tell anyone about what happened because he's afraid of being lectured.

He definitely let's you play with his samurai swords if you ever asked. You once accidentally teleported one of Donnie's gadgets and you both agree to keep it a secret. Til this day on, he's still searching for it.

Also if you need someone to have fun with, he's the guy.

If you wanna skateboard with him, he'll gladly do so. If you don't know how to, he'll be patient in teaching you. His hands intertwined with yours to make sure you don't fall off.

To be fair he doesn't think much of your sudden appearance to the group, as long as you're cool and a genuinely nice person, you're welcomed to the club!

"If you ever need a BETTER company, I'm the man!!"

DONNIE

No way did April just let a random person in their lair as if it's thanksgiving.

He'd be conscious about you, watching your every move and every expression, anything to catch just a hint of bad intentions behind your sudden appearance.

When April was explaining your situation to Raph, he couldn't help but eavesdrop. You were almost kidnapped by a Yokai? Yikes. Why would someone do that?

Even though April reassures them how you are trustworthy, Donnie feels like he'll need to judge your character himself.

After the day you guys got to know each other, you would regularly drop by their place to stay for a while, your reason being either that you wanted to come by to chill or that you felt safer in the lair.

Personally Donnie would be invested in figuring out why you were targeted by a Yokai in the first place. If you're ready to talk about it, he'd question the night of the event to get some answers.

While he's on his computer doing his investigating, he wouldn't mind having you inside his room. Just don't break or touch any of his things. He can get frustrated when you move even just an inch of his stuff.

Since you are uncertain of your safety, Donnie would be willing to make a watch for you. It can track where you are and if you happen to be in an emergency, just one press on the emergency button and he'll instantly get the message.

He's not mean or anything but it takes a while for him to put down his guard around you. Once he does then it's like seeing a whole different side of him, he'd be much more chatty and smiling.

If you're sort of a nerd who likes to geek out then he's your pal to geek out with. Math, science, whatever that is a common interest between you both, he can go on for days if you dare challenge him.

To be honest I can see him being the type to sneak into school just to see what you're doing. Not in a stalking way but more of a, oh you need company that day because April isn't present? Or you have a school event and you want him to be there? He just wants to ensure your safety in case a Yokai somehow sneaks in, which is ironic since he's doing the exact same.

Clearly when you came to the lair for the first time he is very wary of you but after a few days of getting to know you personally, he realises how the misunderstanding led to a new friendship. He won't complain since you turned out to be an alright person.

"Oh great you're procrastinating again. GO BACK TO WORK!!"

MIKEY

His eyes lit up when he saw you entering the lair with April beside you. Its almost like an alarm went off in his head signalling "NEW FRIEND. NEW FRIEND" over and over again.

He was the first to approach you, he was introducing himself and talking about lots of nonsense. All you could make out was how he said he was thrilled to meet you and that he was excited to paint rainbows together (?). You were confused as you struggled to keep up with his pace of talking.

When Raph told him the tight situation you were in, he actually gasped, like audibly gasped. A Yokai tried to kidnap you? How could someone do that??

That's why he was willing to let you stay any time you needed. He didn't complain since that meant he gets to have some company.

He really does care about your safety so if you'd like, he would like to join you whenever you went out. If its in the morning then he'll be on the rooftops watching after you as you walked down the city. Anything to make you feel less anxious.

Speaking of anxiety, he'd offer to have you paint murals with him. The lair has plenty of walls for you to use so if you're an artist itching for some place to test out your skills, he knows just where is the perfect place.

Something also tells me he would like to create matching bracelets together. Yes, he's just that good at making new friends. He'll definitely make your beads your favourite colour while you do his signature orange.

He's so the type of friend to make sure you're always looking your best. You have something in your teeth? He'll tell you discreetly. Is your hair not hairing? Don't worry bro's a stylist.

He obviously tries to lift up your spirits as his brothers are busy helping you out. If you ever need someone to talk about your worries to, he's there to lend a shoulder. He'll have tissues ready if you happen to need a good cry.

Based on the details you shared about what happened, he can't help but come up with a theory that you could be some secret hybrid. Maybe you have some secret powers you're not aware? He once brought that theory to Donnie who immediately dismisses it.

But who knows, maybe he's onto something.

Nonetheless, he's just glad to have made a friend like you. Sometimes some good can come out of an unplanned surprise.

"You're my friend now!! We're gonna have soft tacos together 😊"

[hannahmanderr]

I haven't seen anyone else talk about this yet so I'm going to assume no one has (and if this is the millionth post about this I am so sorry), but apparently there was a leak at Viacom last month, and one of the things that got leaked was the original Danny Phantom pitch bible, and let me tell y'all, there is some interesting lore to be had. I've taken the liberty of summing up a few notable points, but feel free to read for yourself - it's pretty short.

Jack was originally written as an ex-spy, test pilot... basically if it was a daring job, he probably had it. His IQ was supposedly only one point off from Maddie's, and his bumbling was more of a result of him being more "brave than smart."

Maddie was originally written as "one of the world's most respected theoretical physicists" and the brains between her and Jack. Get this: her full name was supposed to be Madison!

Sam and Danny's psychic connection was actually a result of the accident. When he was in the hospital and still very much saturated with ectoplasm, she gave him a "get better" kiss on the forehead, which sparked the connection. The connection would've manifested in a number of ways, including a perpetual ability to "sense" the other, see visions, and hear each other's thoughts, though it was supposed to be somewhat unpredictable.

Jazz hid her brains from her cheerleader friends because she wanted to fit in with them.

Danny was supposed to be the only person able to see, hear, and interact with ghosts.

On the subject of Danny, his reputation for being a scaredy-cat was much more well-known, even to the point where Sam and Tucker gave him the nickname Danny Phantom before he even had his accident. This kid was scared of his own shadow, frogs, you name it.

Overshadowing was originally called "ghosting," and the more intelligent a person, the more difficult it would be to control them.

Jack and Maddie were hoping to break the barrier between the "Real World" (our world) and the "Unreal World" (the ghost world). They wanted to get through to the spirit realm to be able to communicate with the dead in order to help make the world a better place (think picking Einstein's brain a little more, seeing what other music Mozart has cooking, etc.). That dimensional barrier was damaged when they first tried out their experiment, and Danny - who was hiding out from Dash in the lab - would be caught in the middle.

Much like how fans have interpreted things and how the show tried to imply, Danny felt responsible for unleashing the ghosts into our world and decided to adopt the name Sam and Tucker had teased him with to help put a stop to their reign of terror.

Seriously, y'all should read this. There's a lot of interesting info in here, and really it sounds like such a cool concept?? Like I'll probably add my personal thoughts in a reblog, but there's a lot of potential for untapped creativity from the phandom here. Plus it's always nice to see what's technically official content almost 20 years after the show's premiere.

[rueclfer]

casual // touya todoroki part 3

when the boy you're in love with wants to keep it casual

a/n: so much happening in this one sorryy i just wanted to nicely wrap it all up lmao i need more soft touya/dabi content plssss i love u dabi fuckers but ur all so horny! <3 thank u everyone who was on ur knees begging for touya to suffer i hope i delivered.

part one part two

It had been about a couple of weeks since your outbursts at Touya's apartment. Since then, it's been eerily silent outside of the usual city noises- you couldn't even hear his footsteps at night anymore. For the first few days, you were living on eggshells around your apartment complex. Your window stayed locked with the curtain drawn, music would continuously be playing throughout your living room to mask any type of noise, and you rarely left your front door.

You were in a constant state of battle between your brain and your heart, but had ultimately accepted the demise of your relationship with Touya. After several "pep talks" with Toga, and her berating you to "stand the fuck up" and to get yourself together, the hope that you clutched onto slowly began to falter as the days went by.

"Like, look at this. Does this look fucking casual to you? " You whine to Toga, while scrolling through the messages Touya had been sending you since that night. She looked at you with sadness in her eyes.

"It pains me to see you this way. Him too." She pouts. "He has his reasons to not want anything serious, and maybe once his chokehold on you is gone, y'all can rationally talk about it, but PLEASE, Y/N, you're killing yourself by overthinking everything about your relationship with him."

You knew she was right, but you were still allowed to be bitter about it all. The universe seemed to enjoy the melancholic energy in your apartment as well as your sulking. Even with all of the windows closed, you could hear the storm coming down loud and clear.

You stood by your window for a moment, debating if you should open the curtains and enjoy the weather, or keep it shut to protect your peace from potential disturbance.

How much longer will I hide in this apartment from him?

You slowly draw the curtains back, revealing the melted gray skyline of the city, swallowed whole by fog and pelting rain. You open your window, and step out to sit on your windowsill, letting a gust of chilled wind sweep past your bare face. You take a deep breath of the cold air, savoring this solitude for a moment.

You had been properly ghosting him for a couple weeks now. You weren't sure what you would say to him when you would eventually run into him or decide to finally talk it out.

Something that worried you even more, was when you would eventually start going out with your mutual friend group again. Toga assures you that it would be fine, and that no one caught wind of everything that happened between you two, but that wasn't your main concern. You weren't so sure if you could pretend to be on normal terms with him anymore, especially in front of a crowd. The thought of having to continue pretending in front of him and everyone made your skin crawl with anxiety.

The scent of burnt tobacco in the air mixed in with the aroma of wet pavement emanating from the earth below pulled you out of thought.

You look up to see Touya leaning up against the railing of the fire escape with a cigarette in between his fingers, looking off into the city.

You take in a sharp inhale of air and snap your gaze forward, trying to find anything on the street to distract yourself. Maybe he didn't notice you, but his presence alone was enough to stop your breathing.

It's been two weeks, no contact, barely a glance. Do you end this now? Or do you try to silently crawl back into your apartment and pretend like you never saw him? You could just start with a "hey" or something. You asked yourself what would Toga tell you to do in this situation.

"What 'cha been up to?" He suddenly breaks the silence. "First time breathing fresh air in a minute?"

You purse your lips and glance back up to see him exhaling slowly and letting the tendrils of the smoke dissipate into the dark clouds, keeping his gaze straight ahead.

Fuck.

"The usual." You say, fiddling with the hem of your hoodie. "And no, I've been out and about."

Which was a lie.

There was an extended moment of silence. You almost guessed that he went back inside, but you didn't dare look up to check.

"You haven't responded to my texts." He cautiously says. "It's been a while, you know?"

"I know."

"You don't want to talk about it?"

"I don't really know what to say."

Another beat of silence.

"Can I come down?" He asks.

You glance up and meet your eyes with his, causing your stomach to knot.

"Sure." You sigh.

You guess you'd rather get it over with than let the anticipation of it sit in the back of your head for much longer.

He sat on the ground across from you, letting his back rest against the rails. He offers his cigarette to you, which you willingly took for the nerves.

You two sat in silence for a moment while you soaked up each other's presence, occasionally passing the cigarette back and forth.

"I fucking hate you." You finally say.

"Okay."

"But I love you, which is worst."

It felt like there was a sudden shift in the pressure on your shoulders now that you've said those words to his face, sober, calm, and intentionally. You felt more confident speaking about it.

"For our whole arrangement or whatever this is, I've always wanted some part of you that you couldn't give me. None of that was your fault, but I'm not sorry for it."

"You shouldn't be-" He starts.

"But." You cut him off, meeting his eyes. "I am sorry for how it came out. I didn't mean to villainize you when we weren't in a relationship, and we didn't establish anything. You don't owe me that just because I caught feelings."

He took a moment to make sure you were done speaking, in which you motioned him to continue.

"Okay, well, yeah you shouldn't be sorry for your feelings. Ever. And I never wanted you to have to pent it to this point, you know? I wish you could have told me about it sooner, but I get why you didn't."

"You knew I liked you." You cock an eyebrow. "You told me that night."

He sheepishly rubs the back of his head. "Well yes, and no. I found out you had an inkling of a crush, but that was when we first met way before we started doing this and it never came up again, so I didn't think anything of it. I seriously never thought it developed into... something more."

"I guess it's my fault that it exploded out like that. I just hoped that it would sizzle out. I wasn't ever planning on telling you, honestly. "

"At all?" His eyebrows furrowed in hurt.

"Would it have changed anything?" You cock an eyebrow. "We'd still be having this conversation."

"What was your plan then? If you weren't going to tell me?" He bitterly says, suddenly upset. "Wait for me to notice? Return the feelings? C'mon now, Y/N, you're better than that."

Ouch.

"Better than that?" You scoff. "Okay, then tell me Touya, one night I'm in your bed and we're rubbing noses, kissing, we're laughing together, and it suddenly comes out. 'Touya, I really like being with you like this, and you make me feel like a better person. I only want you. Let's be together.' What would you say?"

He pressed his lips together, suddenly quiet.

"If I'm so great, don't you think I deserve to hear it back from someone who feels the same?" You take a long drag of the cigarette, holding it in until your lungs burn. "Why would I put us in that situation when we both know you wouldn't be able to say it back?"

"Y/N, I didn't mean it like that. Of course you deserve it. You deserve it more than anyone." His voice falters. "It's all really complicated in my head right now, but I guess what I'm trying to say is that I wished you didn't let me hurt you like this. I genuinely do consider you to be a best friend of mine, and I care for you, so much. You know that right?"

You roll your eyes. "Duh, I know that. I've accepted this unrequited love for a while now. There were just some friend aspects that made the romantic aspects made sense and everything else confusing. Your siblings, visiting your mom with you, all of our talks- it just made things complicated, and not so.. casual."

"I'm sorry." He mutters. "About everything."

"I'm sorry, too."

After a second, you reach your hand out to him, in which he didn't hesitate to grab back. You didn't have much more to say, but this last physical exchange said it all.

I forgive you. I care about you. Take care of yourself. Don't be a stranger. I love you.

You couldn't help but sadly smile at this. This was the end of your entanglement with him, as long and messy as it was, you still hoped that he could someday meet someone to fall headfirst into- the same way you did for him.

"We're still friends?" You silently asked.

"Don't be stupid." He releases his hand from your grasp and lightly swats at your arm. "Of course we are. And neighbors, so terrorize me any time you want, and I'll do the same."

"Deal."

-

"So you don't like him anymore?" Toga asks, kicking her legs back and forth as she sits on the bathroom sink counter while Kurogiri goes at your hair with kitchen shears.

"I'll always love him, but I don't feel like I need to mourn what could've been with him anymore. We're fine, we've talked, and we're still friends. That's all I can really ask for." You shrug.

"And your hair? What's all this for, then?" You motions to your hair.

"Can't I just want a haircut?" You roll your eyes.

"Hair holds energy." Kurogiri suddenly says. "Cutting a significant amount off signifies an acceptance of change and the turning over of a new leaf."

"Exactly. Thank you, Kuro." You beam. "You get it. It's my symbolism for moving on, or some shit like that."

Another couple of weeks have passed since your last chat with Touya. You had seen each other in passing, and you've hung out at each other's apartment with the others. You were grateful that it all felt semi-normal. Everytime you were in a room together, you felt that there will always be a twinge of magnetism in your fingertips that's going to want to grab him and pull him towards you, but lately, you've been obedient and refraining yourself from getting too close.

"Your hair is so cute, I want mine short like yours now!" Toga pouts, fiddling with snipped lockets of your hair.

"You would hate short hair." You say matter-of-factly. "You wouldn't be able to put your hair in braids or buns anymore."

"I guess you're right." She murmurs. "You sure you don't want to go out with us?"

Kurogiri and Toga were preparing to meet up with Jin at the bar on your street. Of course they thought if they ambushed you at your apartment, they could drag you with them, but they couldn't have been more wrong.

"I'm sure. Be safe and let me know if you need to crash here or something, okay? Thank you Kuro, for the cut." You squeeze both of them in for a hug before ushering them out.

"Don't kiss any randoms, drink water, and slow the fuck down when drinking." You warn her. "Kuro, don't get in a fight, and tell her to fuck off if she makes you carry her home again."

He shoots you a thumbs up. "If you change your mind, you can always meet us there."

After the door shuts behind them, a long sigh escapes your lips. It was a Saturday night and you had no plans other than sweeping up the hair off your floor. On nights like these, you would usually be spending it with Touya, but things have changed now, and you were still avoiding spending one-on-one time with him like the plague.

As you start putting away the kitchen shears used to chop your hair, your phone goes off.

"Tenko?" You set the phone on speaker, continuing to sweep the ground.

"Please God, are you home?" He asks frantically.

"Yes? What's wrong?" His tones stop you in your tracks.

"We're upstairs. Dabi and Spinner can't handle their weed and are too fucking high. I need help before I start beating the shit out of them."

You deadpan. He's asking you to babysit on a Saturday night. You may be lonely, but not enough to have to deal with a few idiots who were on another planet.

But it would give you a reason to see Touya.

You missed him, but you had spent enough sleepless nights crying into your pillow about your loss. You still weren't sure if you missed pretending to be his, or the friendship you had prior to your confession. This inner conflict only drove you further away from him.

In the background, you hear craze laughing and crashing as if furniture were being thrown.

"Who are you talking to?!" Spinner's voice screeches from the background.

"Fuck off! Don't come near me!" Tenko cries, muffling the phone as if he was holding it under his arm.

"So you're all at Touya's? Who the hell is Dabi?"

"Dabi is Touya." He scoffs. "It's his gamertag, duh. Can you please just come over? I want to play league of legends and these fuckers keep bugging."

"Is that Y/N? Gimme the fucking phone." Touya joins in on the conversation.

"No!"

You couldn't help but laugh at his misfortune. Tenko had always been the most impatient and childish out of the boys, so it was satisfying to hear him suffer for once- especially when you knew that this was 100% his fault.

"So sorry baby boy, even if I wanted to, I can't. I have someone over." You lie.

You figured that a simple no wouldn't be enough to get Tenko to drop it. He's always had a sort of ick about hook ups and preferred to stay as far away as he could from hearing about his friends' sex life. It would also save you the trouble of dealing with them marching downstairs to bang on your window until you let them in.

"Fuck. Whatever, say less-" Tenko starts.

"WHAT?-" Touya interrupts before the phone hangs up.

You set your phone down and release a breath of relief. You applauded yourself for not giving in so easily. One step of many.

Almost immediately after Tenko had hung on you, you received a text.

You rub your temples, mentally groaning. You could never escape. You realized, as you stood by the window debating whether or not you should open it for Touya, that two weeks prior, you were in the same position- sitting in between letting him in or shutting him out.

Maybe nothing had changed after all.

You open your window, letting the click of it unlatching give him permission to enter your apartment. For some reason, your hands were sweating. You haven't been alone in each other's presence for a casual hangout in almost a month now, and you weren't really sure how to be a normal person around him without the others to act as the buffer.

"Thank god." He steps in and immediately shuts the window behind him. "It's so fucking cold, I was debating on jumping."

The moment he turned around, his jaw dropped. "Your hair." He gasps, covering his mouth with a hand. "Holy shit."

You sheepishly smile at the sudden reaction. "What? Not a fan?"

"Not a fan?" He exclaims. "I thought I liked the long hair, but wow. Fuck."

He flops down on your couch, still looking at you in awe. "God, you're so pretty. I'm nervous now." He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck.

You roll your eyes, chucking a pillow at him. "Shut up or you'll scare off my date." You tease. "We're gonna finish up, but you stay here and be quiet, okay?"

His cheesing smile instantly drops. "You're fucking joking. Tell me you don't have someone in your bed right now."

"And what if I do?" You put a hand on your hip.

"Don't do that to me, Y/N." He pouts. "Kick them out pleaassee."

"You're such a baby." You sit down on the couch beside him. "I was kidding. No one's here. I just wanted Tenko to leave me alone, but clearly that didn't work out, huh?"

It was sadistic of you, but you did enjoy seeing him squirm at the thought of you spending your night with somebody else.

"Can't hate me for wanting a little distraction. You've just been avoiding me. Don't think I haven't noticed." He mutters.

"Avoiding you? That's a bit clingy of you, don't you think?" You joke.

You met his gaze to realize that he wasn't joking. At all. He had a pouty expression that only a child could master, and those bloodshot eyes were the equivalent to a poor puppy dog's.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You asked, suddenly taken aback. "What's wrong?"

"If I tell you something, promise you won't hate me?"

Your stomach drops. You didn't have a clue as to where this conversation could go next and couldn't figure out what that look on his face really meant. You had been playing your cards right, kept your distance, maintained your friendship, what more could there have been?

"What is it?"

A beat pass. His lips parted, but no words came out.

"I think I'm actually at a 7.8." He slowly says, gauging your incoming reaction. "Like, a strong 7.8." He murmurs.

A chuckle escaped your lips. That dramatic of an expression just to tell you that he was really fucking stoned made your heart swell a bit and a wave of relief come over you.

"It's fine, Touya. I promise." You wave off. "I'll always take care of you, it doesn't matter."

"Well, no it's not just that. I'm at a strong 7.8 and I have to tell you that I'm having a lot of feelings."

You stared at him for a second, digesting what he just said but not quite getting it.

"I don't think I'm following."

His cheeks puff in frustration. "I'm trying to say that I want to talk to you about... complicated stuff, but I'm stoned, so it's going to come out sounding stupid."

You nervously chuckle. "Don't you think you should talk to me about it when you're sober, then?"

You concluded that you definitely should have kept your window shut and left him on the fire escape- to jump or to freeze whichever came first. You were mentally cursing Tenko for your misfortune of having to deal with this with no preparation.

"Why would I do that when it's easier doing it like this?"

"Because last time someone did that, it ended up in flames. You remember that?" You press your lips together. "Do you want water or something? Some snacks? At least to sober up?" You stand up, starting your way to the kitchen.

"You're doing it again. Avoiding- or an even better word, deflecting." He hums.

"I'm not avoiding or deflecting, Touya. I'm making sure you're taken care of and even more important, don't say anything stupid." You come back with a glass of water and set it on the table in front of him.

"But I want to say something stupid."

"Why would you want to do that?"

"Because it's easy in this state and I don't care about the consequences. Duh." He deadpans. "Sweet girl, we are going in circles here. Just let me speak. It's not like I'm totally incoherent or anything. I mostly still have full function of my brain right now....unlike you when you had a silly little something to say." He shoots you a side eye.

You bite the inside of your cheek at the nickname you haven't heard in what felt like a lifetime ago. You take your seat beside him again in defeat.

"Fine. Say your 'silly little something' then."

"Like I was saying earlier, I'm having a lot of feelings." He begins, waving his arms as he speaks. "You following?"

"Mmhm."

"And I'm having these feelings because you've been avoiding me- don't even try to deny it either. We both know you've been avoiding me. Anyways, this probaabbllyyy..." He draws out "..started about a week or so ago, so I've had a week to sit on it, but one day I was like DAMN. This shit sucks! And then I asked myself Well, why does this shit suck so bad? and I came to the conclusion that I..... miss you."

You stared at him for a moment, watching him fiddling with his glass of water and rubbing his bloodshot eyes while he anxiously waited for your response.

"Touya, read the damn room." You roll your eyes. "Okay so if I have been avoiding you, you realize that the time away from you was very necessary for me? I literally confessed my feelings for you, and you told me you didn't feel the same way. Which is 100% fine, but what am I supposed to do? Pretend like everything's normal and go back to hanging out with you like nothing happened?"

"Don't hate me." He murmurs, following up the silence that fell between you two. "I know it's selfish, but it's been hard and confusing for me too."

"I could never hate you, but I really would like to mean it when I say I'm over you. Just give me some time, okay? And then we can hang out and be besties again and all that shit. It's not a big deal to not see me for a couple weeks." You take a sip of your own water cup.

"I don't think we're on the same page right now, Y/N." He mutters.

Another silence falls between you.

"I don't follow anymore. What do you mean, then?"

"I'm having a lot of feelings... about missing you. And us." He avoids your gaze, looking down at his hands.

Us.

"Us." You repeat. "Okay? Keep elaborating." You slowly say, fiddling with your own hands now.

"I know I don't have the right to say this after all that shit that happened, but for a long time, it felt like what we had going on was really good and then all of the sudden it's gone. I knew it was for the better, for both of us, but then after these weeks of not seeing you anymore, it's like I lost you completely and I miss you."

Your stomach simultaneously twists, drops, and threatens to climb up your throat. You didn't know if this sick feeling was coming from anger or the years of yearning coming back to the forefront of your mind.

You reach over, and hold his hands into yours. "Touya, I'm going to hold your hands when I tell you this, okay? And I tell you this because I hold you so close to my heart, and want to continue to do so, but yeah you don't have a fucking right to say all that shit." You huff. "You didn't lose me, because you never had me. You never had me, because you never wanted me. You didn't. I don't hate or blame you for it, but I can't change you. Do you understand?"

He slowly nods his head.

His expression fell into sadness. You weren't sure if it really clicked for him, or if he was fighting his own conflictions about your mess of a relationship, but you knew that above all, you had to protect your peace.

"But what if I can change myself?"

"Wow, you really did miss me, huh?" You tried to lighten up the thick air that had fallen in the room.

"Tell me what I can do, and I'll do it." He squeezes your hands, scooting himself closer to you where your knees were touching now. "I'll change."

Your eyes widened in shock. "Seriously, Touya. You don't have to change anything- you shouldn't. Like I said, the distance made things hard and weird for our friendship, but we'll be back to normal, just give it time."

"Maybe let's talk about this another time, okay? When you're not high." You smile, trying to deescalate the frustration between you two. "We can turn on a movie or something."

"No, Y/N. You're still not getting it... and deflecting." He sighs in frustration. "Your normal is not my normal. My normal is being able to touch you and kiss you and hold you close to me and tell you how fucking beautiful and great you are. I want you to fuck up my hair and paint my nails, call me a piece of shit, your sweet boy, all of it. Tell me what to do to get that, and I'll do it."

You almost pulled back in shock.

"Touya. Listen to me so carefully. You. Don't. Want. Me. Like. How. I. Want. You." You say slowly. "We are friends. Friends don't do all that. There is no world where we can do any of that anymore. How are you asking me to do all of those things with you, when you don't feel more for me? I can't do that to myself, and you know how it killed me."

"Y/N. I will get on my knees right now if you want me to." He begins. "Listen to me, I've slept in my own bed every single night since you left, I've left my window and door unlocked for you, I've been waiting for you for the past month. I know I can be so fucking stupid sometimes, and not know how to talk about my feelings or go about a relationship, but I only want you. Okay? Please. I'm sorry it's taken me this long to realize that, but this isn't like how it was before. I. Want. You."

Your jaw went slack. You realize that this whole conversation had been a poorly navigated confession. Touya wasn't telling you that he missed your weekly hook ups and late night snuggle sesh. He was confessing to you and you had no clue how to take it all in. You had spent weeks trying to get over him- you've just cut off all of your hair for the cause, just for him to sit here and tell you that he's been yearning after you for the past few weeks as you had for him since the beginning of your friendship.

"Please." He grips your hands tighter and brings it up to his mouth. "Please give me a chance to fix it. I'll prove it to you. It was never casual. You do deserve to hear it back. I'm the biggest fucking idiot on the planet to lose you. Tell me you still feel the same way." He mutters into your knuckles with a sense of desperation. "Please."

You took a sharp intake of air. Letting this conversation sit for a second. You debated on asking him to leave and give you a few days, but knowing that Tenko and Spinner were still in his apartment, you couldn't do that to him.

"So, this is you telling me you want to be with me." You finally asked. "You have feelings for me."

He nods his head. "More than that. I want to be yours. And I want you to be mine."

"And not in the way that we were before all this. You feel the same way I do? Like everything I told you on the fire escape a couple weeks ago."

He nods once more. "If you've felt this tightness in your chest as if something is going to rip open at the thought of me not being there anymore, then yeah. The same."

"God, you really had to be stoned to do this?"

"I also wish I had a bottle of tequila and a pack of cigarettes right now, but this will do." He smiled. "I do feel like i'm going to shit myself, I'm so sweaty, and the cotton mouth is insane right now, but I like you so much, I don't want to fuck this up."

He cautiously reaches his hand up to tenderly cup your cheek, swiping his thumb across your lips. He pulls your head into his, letting your foreheads rest against each other.

"You're a fucking idiot." You mutter against his thumb. "So, so stupid. This was a lot, Touya."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I guess we're even now though, huh?" He chuckles nervously. "Um, so yeah I am still shitting myself because you haven't given me a response, sooo...what do you say?"

"Say please one more time and maybe I'll consider taking your sorry ass back." You tease as a smirk grows on your face.

He drops his hand back to your own and leans back, taking in your whole view. A grin spreads ear to ear as a light blush brush on his cheeks. "You are absolutely wicked, my sweet girl. So breathtakingly evil and I am nothing more than a dust particle living in your world. Please. I will never deserve you, but let me be selfish anyways and want you. I want you more than anything. Please."

"God, you're so good at that." You couldn't help but laugh at this theatrical version of a confession. "I guess, if you want me that bad..."

"Can I kiss you?" He quietly asked, "Please."

You smiled, returning the small physical gesture by rubbing his knuckles with your thumbs. Your body was on fire and had been craving this physical contact with him for the past month, and you desperately wanted to just lunge into his skin and devour him whole to make up for lost time.

"No."

His smile falters into the saddest pout you've seen.

"I want you to take me out first. I want you to come to my front door with flowers and a cute outfit, I want dinner, an activity planned, I want you to properly ask me out, maybe grovel a bit more, and then if I say yes, you can kiss me."

He pulls your hands up to his mouth to kiss your knuckle. "That was so fucking hot. You got it, sweet thing. Anything, anything, anything. I'm yours."

tags: @whitneys-favorite-slut @lanxsee @bumblebeebutter @randomrosie01 @lillycore @rinheartshyunlix @yuwuuta @itawifeyy @0fffia @the2ndl @moonchild701 @oldspirit @misguidedswagger

[cryptgrrrl]

Do any of the Cullens actually care about Bella? Short answer: no. But it’s a little more complicated than that, and it varies by each of them. They don’t care about her in the way we’re led to believe, or even the way Bella believes they do. Instead, they care about her only insofar as she serves their interests. From the moment Bella enters their orbit, she’s a demonstration of how little the Cullens actually value human life.

The text makes this clear, and Midnight Sun outright spells it out: the Cullens are inherently selfish. Human life is disposable to them. The difference between them and other vampires is that they cosplay as humans, pretending to care while masking their predatory nature. We’re supposed to think they’re “better” than regular vampires, but they’re not. And honestly? That’s what makes them creepy. None of them cared about Bella as a person. Most of them were fine with her being killed if it came to that.

Edward sums this up perfectly in Midnight Sun when he considers what everyone would think if he drained Bella. Rosalie and Jasper wouldn’t care—if anything, they’d feel smug for being right about Edward’s inability to resist. Esme’s concern would be for Edward’s well-being, not Bella’s life. Carlisle would be disappointed but ultimately forgiving. Emmett? He’d shrug it off. Alice might be upset about losing a potential friend, but even that’s questionable. None of them cared enough to oppose the idea strongly; they were just going along with what suited them.

Rosalie, in particular, gets villainized for not liking Bella, but she’s not any worse than the others. The difference is that Rosalie doesn’t lie about her indifference. She doesn’t play mind games or pretend to care. She wasn’t plotting against Bella she just didn’t want Edward’s fixation to endanger the family. Jasper and Emmett, on the other hand, were fine with Edward killing Bella. Rosalie only got involved when Edward started implicating them in his reckless behavior. Even then, she relented when Carlisle insisted they play nice.

Esme, meanwhile, cared more about Edward’s happiness than Bella’s life. If killing Bella made Edward happy, Esme would’ve supported it. If dating her and dooming her to vampirism made Edward happy, Esme welcomed her. Alice? Alice was less concerned about Bella as a person and more about the idea of her as a new “friend” and human Barbie doll. She orchestrated the relationship, fully aware of the danger Bella faced, because she wanted Bella close. She doesn’t care about Bella’s safety; she cares about her own desires.

Jasper? He doesn’t care about Bella as a person. To him, she’s a tantalizing temptation a challenge to overcome and a new ear to hear his Civil War stories. Emmett? He’s just along for the ride. He didn’t think twice about Bella until the family decided to include her. Then she became “Edward’s human,” and that was that. Carlisle? He cared about Bella in the abstract as an innocent girl who didn’t “deserve” to die but his actions show his selfishness. He made vampires without their consent, knowing they’d kill humans, and let Edward pursue Bella, fully aware of the danger. Carlisle’s priority has always been maintaining his moral high ground while indulging his family’s selfish desires.

Ultimately, none of the Cullens cared about Bella beyond what she represented to them: Edward’s pet project, Alice’s new toy, or Carlisle’s opportunity to preach about self-control. They proved this when they abandoned her without a second thought, leaving her unprotected from the supernatural chaos they brought into her life just because Edward said so.

They’re selfish, manipulative predators who pretend to be human for their own twisted reasons. They don’t care about humans, and Bella was no exception. The outrage over Rosalie’s indifference feels hypocritical when none of the Cullens actually cared about Bella either. At least Rosalie was honest about it. She didn’t have a vendetta against Bella she was just upfront about her priorities. Compared to the others, Rosalie’s selfishness is almost refreshing.

Which brings us to the next natural question: does Edward care about Bella? Spoiler: no. He thinks he does, and we’re supposed to believe he does, but that’s a whole other can of worms. In conclusion, no, the Cullens don’t care about Bella not as a person. She was never more than a convenient object of their desires, and that’s the unsettling truth at the heart of their “family dynamic.”