#i had just a frank one but i think it was messing with the flow lol

[charmac]

[chuluoyi]

✎ forever

- gojo satoru x reader

the three times he asked you to marry him

genre: slightly suggestive, fluff/comfort, silly and lovesick gojo, wedding proposals, mild angst, mentions of injury and protective gojo

note: i was inspired by some fics with this kind of trope and i can totally see gojo asking you to marry him while he's dead drunk—

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

"Why don't we get married?"

The first time Satoru brought this up was right after you both had exhausted yourselves in an intense, passionate lovemaking session.

His bare skin was against yours, and the intimacy of it almost made you want to go along with his suggestion, until you grasped the profound meaning behind his words.

"Satoru," you breathed out, still breathless as you came down from your high. "Are you seriously asking me that now?"

A dopey smile was on his face. "Yeah, is there a problem with it?"

You blinked. The nerve of this clown-head—

"Not even a proper proposal? Or a ring?" you scowled. "Considering your usual flair, this is a rather lackluster attempt at a proposal."

Of course, you weren't a material girl, but considering his big ego and tendency to go overboard, you just had to call him out.

"Hmm? So if there's a grand proposal and I bought you a ring, then you'll say yes?"

There was practically a twinkle in those bright eyes of his now, and you were a bit caught off guard because well, so he is for real?

You’d be lying if you said that the thought of marrying him hadn’t crossed your mind. But to be frank, Gojo Satoru didn't strike you as someone who was interested in anything as cliché as marriage and everything that comes with it.

Which brought you back to this point—you had absolutely no idea what possessed him to bring up this question.

"Hah," you let out a sardonic laugh. "Not that easy. I'll think about it."

When he let out a “Ehhh?”, and started sulking, you were quite sure, and dismissed the question as one of his passing whims.

The second time he posed the question, he was a babbling, slurring mess of alcohol and hiccups.

"Can't we—hic!—" His face was flushed, and he was pitifully wobbling on his feet. "—just get married—hic!—already?"

This time you scoffed, partly out of disdain, crossing your arms in front of you. Satoru seemed to pick up on your unfavorable reaction and attempted to convince you. "I'm being—"

"No," you sternly interrupted, supporting him as he struggled to stay on his feet. You shot an unapologetic look at the other patrons in the bar who were watching you both with disapproving frowns. "Satoru, we're going home."

"I'm—hic!—asking you to marry me!"

"I said no."

"Why?!"

You sighed. "You're dead drunk."

"What will—hic—make you say yes?"

You let out another sigh. It already took a great deal of patience to deal with his immaturity as his girlfriend, and you could only imagine how much more challenging it would be as his wife.

"I'm so heartbroken," he whined, crocodile tears pooling in his eyes as he peered at you like a kicked puppy. "I got rejected twice already... How could you reject me twice?"

You rolled your eyes at his theatrics.

"Marry me."

The third time around, he was neither bringing it up on a whim or drunk, also he wasn't quite asking—his tone was almost pleading.

And you just woke up from your comatose state after a mission gone wrong, still in your bloodied uniform, eyes barely adjusting to the bright room.

Satoru let out a grunt, clasping your fingers in his warm, reassuring grip. It was evident how deeply distressed he was from the furrowed brow and the quiver in his lips as he looked down at you, as well as the gentle way he was stroking your hair.

At this moment, you wanted to cry. The fact that he was so genuinely concerned for you filled you with warmth and emotion.

. . .

He saw it happen right before him—the crimson blood flowing out of your wound like waterfall. He had screamed at you to breathe and not let go of his hand. The moment he felt your head loll back in his arms and you lost your grip on him, he could swear his own heart had stopped too.

He had never been more grateful that you—his best friend, love of his life, the only one he had left—awoke from that horrifying ordeal. Seeing you stained red by your own blood had undoubtedly distorted his point of view, but his desire to marry you, as what he had been suggesting as of late, clearly was not just a mere passing thought.

Because he is acutely aware of how cruel this world is. This damned world has always taken everything that's important to him, and before they can snatch you away too, he will claim you as his first.

"Marry me," he repeated, his voice now sounding more hoarse, not as confident as it had been the first time.

As you gazed into his beautiful eyes, it occurred to your hazy mind that you very nearly died. That you were that close to not seeing him ever again. You had been apprehensive with how he had phrased his proposals so far, and you didn't want your marriage to be a split-second decision forced by some sort of looming omen.

And yet, falling in love with Gojo Satoru had never been the easiest, but you did anyway. He still held onto your hand, patiently awaiting your response—

—but suddenly, like a sharp whiplash effect, what shocked you was that who you saw then wasn't your boyfriend.

But rather, the man with the mantle of the strongest sorcerer alive.

You could lose him just as much as he could lose you. Sooner or later, who knows? His title is both a blessing and a curse. Up until now, it has been a blessing, but who can say when it might suddenly turn into a curse that tears him away from you?

. . .

This time, you didn't snort or doubt his intention. Instead, you smiled, embracing the profound flutter in your chest as you were being proposed.

"Okay," you whispered, voice dry. "Yes… I'll marry you, Satoru."

[vanesycho]

• bf!hyunjin x f!reader | m.list

| let's just say you get 'very excited' after see your boyfriend's new haircut

warning | fingering, oral(f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex

word count | 1k

enjoy reading！

❝ Is a haircut really enough to get you this high? ❞

oh.

This was exactly your reaction when you saw the message from your boyfriend saying 'I got a buzzcut.'

Everything definitely suited him but this move was unexpected and caught you completely off guard. He had long hair since you knew him and now even imagining him like this made butterflies fly in your stomach. And the fact that he was going to be back home in a few hours made it hard for you to stay still.

As a result of your waiting, you were startled by the sound of a door, Hyunjin left his extra belongings in a corner and let out a tired breath. "Baby?" when you heard his call, your steps started to pull towards him. But the difference you saw made you stop in your tracks, you looked at your boyfriend you weren't used to for a while, when Hyunjin noticed your look, his tired face disappeared and he approached you with a smile. "Surprise?" his arms wrapped tightly around your waist and without waiting, he pulled you to him and buried his face in your neck, mumbled "mm..i missed you.."

You grabbed his shoulders and pushed him lightly so you had a chance to look at his face better. He was...the hottest man you'd ever seen in the world and he belongs to you. Hyunjin looked at your unresponsive face, started examining your face in the same way as if he was trying to figure out if you liked it or not "So...do you like it?" instead of talking, you preferred to give him an answer by kissing him, and Hyunjin accepted it with pleasure, grabbed your hips and pulled you hard to him. After a long kiss, you whispered the moment you pulled back "I don't think I can put into words how sexy you look right now."

He chuckled briefly at your frankness, tilted his head slightly to the side and spoke teasingly "Really? Maybe you can show me that, baby." you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him into another kiss. Hyunjin, noticing how eager and impatient you were, laughed between kisses and picked you up without waiting, walking towards the room without parting your lips.

He pulled back as soon as your back reached the soft bed and helped you take off your clothes before throwing his own clothes in a corner. Even though he was impatient like you, he wanted to take it slow. Spread your legs and get between them without breaking eye contact "Is a haircut really enough to get you this high?" his fingers went to your pussy, you let out a moan as he caressed your clit with slow movements "N-no. You're enough to get me high. N-not your hair." he grinned, the compliment he received made his cock twitch completely "ah..how sweet." he mumbled and after that sentence he leaned down and sucked your clit while inserting two fingers inside you, you let out a loud moan, instead of starting his movements slowly he started to fully exploit your pussy.

You whined wanting more, your hand went to his head, you moved your hips with the new feeling you felt instead of his long hair and pressed him against you. Hyunjin responded to every one of your movements, his tongue moving rapidly on your clit while his fingers curled inside you and made you pour all your juices onto his fingers with a fast pace "Hyun- f-fuck.. I'm close..I- oh fuck." your head went back in pleasure, his tongue and fingers were already skilled, but the feelings that were triggered inside you the moment you saw him would make you cum even faster. Hyunjin didn't slow down, he buried his head between your legs and continued until you cum. And when you reach your peak, he didn't stop until all your cum was wrapped around his fingers, he sucked your clit one last time and tried to catch his breath "Good job baby..oh shit look at this mess.." he said under his breath while looking at the cum flowing from your pussy.

He gave you a while to catch your breath, filled this space with many kisses but he couldn't hold it anymore, his cock was aching in pain and he needed you. He pulled back while his face was buried in your neck and rubbed his dick against your pussy. Hyunjin whimpered as soon as the tip entered, slowly pushed more into you, feeling all your walls, he let out a loud moan and buried his face in your neck again "You feel so..g-good, god you're going to make me go crazy.." his hips moved without hesitation, he was hitting with slow but hard movements, each of his breaths tickling your neck.

Hyunjin was putting his whole cock inside you, he wanted you to feel every inch of him. His arms wrapped around you, your legs wrapped around his waist and the occasional kisses on your neck, your bodies were completely one. "Faster.. please Hyun..I can't take it-" he didn't wait for you to finish your sentence, his hips started moving in fast movements, he lifted his head and held one of your hands, pinning it to the bed, your eyes locked as a few drops of sweat ran down his forehead.

The room was filled with just the moans of pleasure between the two of you, your wetness mixed together "I'm close, baby. It won't...take long for me to come." Hyunjin spoke breathlessly, pumping his cock hard inside you, begging to cum. His rapid breaths turned into a tearful moan, close to cumming, as you prepared yourself for a second orgasm. A few strokes later, your second orgasm hit you, Hyunjin came right after you and came out of you, his cum spilling onto your belly. Hyunjin threw himself directly next to you and tried to catch his breath. "Fuck...I should've cut my hair earlier." you laughed at his mumbled sentence and moved closer to him. He immediately took you under his arms. "Like I said, you're perfect in every way, it's not just about your hair." he grinned, lowering his head towards you. "Thank you, baby. I expected you to like it, this reaction was even more than I expected. But I'm definitely not complaining."

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Nightfall (5)

Vampire! Billy Russo x Female Reader

Part 1// Part 2// Part 3// Part 4

Warnings: Smut, oral (f), orgasm denial, angst, brief mentions of torture and death.

A/N: Friendly reminder that if you want to see more of something you need to interact with it, and not in a detached way.

Shit, you were gonna beg him.

There was a twisting in your stomach, screaming for pleasure, quaking at the concept of his touch- of his fucking tongue.

You make an annoyed grunt, dropping your fork, hearing it clatter on the porcelain plate.

You press both hands to your face, trying to think about something else- anything else- other than him.

It doesn’t work, you try to think about escape, and the reminder of his teasing smile pops up in response.

Your hands move up, and into your hair, gripping it hard, trying to stop this burning, this heavy desire to submit to him, beg for him, come for him.

Him, him, him.

You pull on your hair harder when your mind jumps to thoughts of his cock, the way it looks as it’s slipping into you, filling every inch of you.

The reminder is so potent you almost cum from just the fucking memory.

This was it.

You were going to give in.

You stand, angry, turning to his room. He’d left you behind to have a shower while you ate breakfast, and you were going to get on your knees and beg for him the moment he stepped out.

A knock on the door stops you cold in your tracks.

You turn, wide eyed, staring at the door.

Another knock, calm and cool and perhaps a little impatient.

Do you open it? Definitely not.

You hear Billy call out to you from the bedroom.

“Can you get that for me?” he asks.

“Okay.” You murmur softly, knowing that he hears you.

You unlock the door cautiously, pulling it open.

The first thing you see is a broad chest. Tilting your head up, you find a handsome man staring back at you. His nose is slightly crooked, probably having been broken one too many times.

Instinctively, your training kicks in, you wait a few moments, eyes locked on him in a silent challenge. He doesn't breathe, his body perfectly still, making a quiet assessment of you as you do him.

“You the hunter?” He finally says, his voice deep, an air of danger wrapped around him.

“Maybe.” You finally say, taking a step back, widening the door to let him step in.

Behind him, is a very beautiful woman. She's got flowing brown hair, that makes you think of hot chocolate on a cold night.

She smiles at you, and you feel a soft shock go through your body at how stunning she really is.

She introduces herself as Maria, with a hand outstretched you reach to shake it, subtly pressing your fingers to her wrist, feeling a pulse. 

You supply your own name, wondering if this was the paired couple Billy had told you about.

Billy walks in a second later, a towel on his shoulder, while he scrubs at his hair.

You blink, looking away for a second, remembering how just moments ago you were about to crawl begging to him.

Your ears hum, you realise there’s a silent conversation happening between the two supernaturals in the room. You press your teeth together, trying not to lash out at the rudeness before knowing anything.

Billy says your name, introducing his friend, Frank to you. You can’t help sizing him up.

You definitely could not take him in a fight.

There’s power to him, just like Billy, a charge in the air around him that warns you, he would not be messed with. Where Billy might toy with you playfully, he would exterminate you if you so much as moved in a way he didn’t like.

“I asked Maria to help you find some things for the event next week, and anything else you might want.” Billy explains smoothly looking at you.

You incline your head, looking at him. Petra, the vampire at the club, had told him of a date, time and place of an auction for vampires wanting to get high quality blood from humans.

You’d initially thought it would be similar to human trafficking, but Billy had informed you, that the method of gathering humans was something more coercive in nature.

If that many humans had actually gone missing, lots of people would notice, so instead, these organisations had found shady ways to force people into debt, just so that they would benefit from it. 

Learning that, had made you wonder whether your organisation knew about it. You think if they did know, they wouldn’t stand idly by.

.

You'd been very surprised that Billy had intended for you to go with Maria alone. You'd stared at him in quiet disbelief when he'd said it, and he'd met your gaze evenly.

This had to be a test, no doubt he would be following you from afar or something waiting for you to try escaping.

But as you swipe through gauzy lingerie, the absence of feeling watched puzzles you.

Some of these pieces were really cute, you pause to examine a gauzy soft blue set covered in little hearts. You give it a frown, thinking that it wasn’t too bad.

Billy had handed you his credit card before you’d left, not even saying a word to you about it. You’d been debating the right way to use it- should you just buy as much stuff as you could? Or barely buy anything but the essentials? 

In all honesty, you doubted he even cared. An immortal like him probably had more money than he knew what to do with.

Still, you stick to the essentials, your training demanding you pick functionality over anything you might really want.

When Maria watches you touch something gently for the fifth time, she finally speaks up about it.

“That’s cute.”

You blink, glancing at her before your eyes go back to the item in question- a sparkly red keychain in the shape of a heart. It would look nice with the tiny designer bag you’d been looking at earlier, one that was definitely not functional.

Shopping like this was unfamiliar to you, to desire something and be able to have it was definitely not an experience you’d had before.

“It’s a trinket.” You respond to her, moving on to look at something else.

“It might look pretty with that bag I saw earlier. The pink one.”

You make a hum of disinterest.

“How long have you and Frank been together?” You ask instead.

She tilts her head, turning away, and you acknowledge that your question might have come off rudely.

“Seventy years in November.” She answers, and you freeze, turning to study her with a look of confusion.

She doesn’t look up at you, examining a silk bra instead.

“How is that possible?” She couldn’t be older than thirty-two.

Maria’s gaze is kind as she finally looks at you, a little bit of amusement in the corners of her eyes.

“The bond prolongs my life.” She says, her eyes darting to study a woman walking by, “There are many things shared between us.”

“Like what?” You question, intrigued.

Maria smiles, turns back to look at you.

“That’s our secret, but it’s different for each bond anyway.”

You nod, turning away, a little miffed that you hadn’t gotten a straight answer from her.

“When did you find out… about him?”

“Um, maybe a few months into knowing each other? It did happen kind of fast. Frank had a… reputation… that sort of made me a target.”

You want to ask her what type of reputation, but you don’t think she'd be very forthcoming with the details. You assume it's related to whatever Billy’s involved in.

You study the silk robes, tracing your fingers over the soft material and sighing longingly.

“And… you don't have a problem with him being…”

“Different?” She finishes for you.

You hum in affirmation, trying not to argue with the word she chose. He wasn't just different, he was dangerous, deadly, bloodthirsty. It was like having a snake in bed beside you that could take you out at any given moment if you angered it just enough.

“I've seen throughout the years more humanity in him than in actual living people.”

Your first instinct is to disagree, yet there's a hope that spins inside of you, that maybe she was right.

You exhale, shaking your head, confused about what you wanted.

You put it out of your mind for now, deciding to focus on the mission at hand, and put your feelings aside the way you were trained to do.

It works up until you step through the doors of his apartment, and your eyes meet his.

Maria happily jumps into Frank’s arms, while Billy calmly approaches you.

You place some of your bags down, reaching into your back pocket for his credit card.

“Did you get everything you wanted?”

You nod, a swollen feeling in your throat as you extend the card to him.

He glances down at it, and then back at you.

“Keep it.” He murmurs, turning away.

You pause for a second, unsure of what to do, pocketing the card so that you can leave it on his nightstand or something.

“When is the rest coming?” Billy asks.

“The rest?” You question.

Maria looks over at Billy, having overheard the question.

“That's everything.” She says to him.

He pauses, turning to look at her. You watch the exchange, feeling very confused.

“That's it?”

Maria gives him a slow nod.

He pauses, before glancing at you. You get the feeling that you're missing something important, but you can't figure out what.

You glance away, pretending to study the microwave as if it’s just said something gravely important to you while you can feel his eyes on you.

“I appreciate your help, Frank, Maria.” Billy says, and in your peripherals, you see him approach them, patting Frank on the back, and leaning in to press a kiss to Maria’s temple.

It’s an amount of affection you weren’t expecting to see, and when Frank approaches you, you stiffen automatically.

He extends a hand, and though his gesture is friendly, his eyes are warning you not to make the wrong move.

You swallow, shaking his hand, returning his firm grip with one of your own, and then he slides right past you, allowing his arguably better half to bid you goodbye as well.

Maria is much warmer, despite the cold way you treated her today, and it makes you feel like a jerk, to have kept her at arm’s length.

“Goodbye.” You say softly, and she gives you a knowing smile, before she’s out the door.

You wait a beat, because you know Frank can probably still hear any words you decide to speak.

“I feel bad,” You finally say, “I wasn’t the nicest to her today.”

“Don’t worry,” Billy murmurs, “She understands.”

Your shoulders drop, in hopes that you would get another chance to be her friend, picking up your bags and taking them in the direction of the spare bedroom.

“No.” Billy says, his voice echoing clearly through the open room.

You stop in your tracks, rolling your eyes before adjusting your course for his room instead.

He follows behind, and stands at the doorway when you drop the bags in question onto the bed.

“Why didn’t you get more?” He asks, arms crossed studying you.

You glance up at him as you tug a short summer dress out of one bag, preparing to snip the tags off and make it more comfortable to wear.

“More what? I didn't need more.” You answer, feeling defensive all of a sudden.

“Do you have a scissors?” 

“Bathroom. Top drawer. You told me you got everything you wanted. Was that true?”

“What-” You let out a frustrated breath, dropping the dress on the bed, “What does that mean?”

“I wanted you to buy anything you liked, but I get the feeling that you held back a lot.”

You walk to the attached en suite bathroom, grabbing the scissors from where he said it was.

“Because I didn't have more bags?” You pick up the dress, clipping the tags, and any extra labeling that would stick you.

“I was hoping, that you'd try to make this place more like home.”

Your breath stalls in your chest.

“Well it isn't. My home is a secluded base, with four walls and a cot that fits just me, and the water is freezing on mornings but that's better for you anyway. My bed is lumpy and old and sometimes smells like someone died on it but that’s because all the funding goes into medicine for us when we get injured. I’m not some kept woman, that you can just send out and treat nicely whenever it suits you. I’m a soldier.”

You turn away to avoid his gaze. It feels as though he can see right through you in this moment. As if you’ve been pried apart and all the things that make you tick have been exposed.

Carefully, you tug his credit card out of your pocket, placing it onto the nightstand as if it’s a bomb that is going to go off at any given moment.

“I was a soldier too.” Billy finally says.

You blink, reaching for the next dress in the bag to snip the tags off. 

He comes around the bed, gripping your shoulders to turn you to him. You let the dark material fall to your feet as he grips your chin, raising your head to his.

“I was a killing machine long before I had fangs. I would have done anything to serve my cause. You know where that got me? These scars.”

You finally focus on his words, eager to soak in any ounce of himself that he’s willing to give.

“I was captured, tortured, dumped into a shallow grave and left for dead. I clawed my way out, crawled through the forest, bleeding and broken when I was found and changed. Turns out, they knew where I was the whole time and they just didn’t care. Wouldn’t even consider a rescue mission for me and other guys that were caught.”

He shakes his head.

“They don’t care about you. They never have. You’re just another body to them, useful until you’re not and then you’re replaceable.”

You already knew this.

“The cause-”

“-Fuck the cause!” He hisses, his teeth sharpening in anger, “Can’t you see that you matter more?”

You shake your head in denial. He cups your face with both hands, walking you back until you're pressed against his bedroom wall.

“Yes. Yes. Yes. I know you’ve never heard it before so I’ll say it to you now.” His eyes are dark, so human that you almost forget.

“You mean more to me than any fucking ideology. I would give everything up for you.”

“You don’t even know me.” You challenge.

He leans in, kissing you harshly, mouth tingling at the feeling of his lips on yours.

“I know enough.”

He kisses you again, and again, moaning into your mouth, drinking your breathy sighs eagerly.

You raise a hand, hanging onto his shoulder, letting yourself surrender to this feeling… a wholeness that you can’t fathom.

“You don't know anything about me, you filthy, fanged bloodsucker.” You grunt between kisses.

He laughs into your mouth, his hand fisting a handful of your hair.

“I know you like warm blankets, and you mumble in your sleep, and what your cunt tastes like, and how wet you get for me anytime you so much as look in my direction.”

You bite down on his bottom lip in retaliation and he groans.

He spins you, the front of your body against the wall now, cheek pressed to the cold concrete, your hands pulled behind your back and held there by his hand on your wrists.

“I know that you like to stop and smell the flowers on display anytime you walk past a flower shop, and that you'd go out of your way to step on a crunchy leaf.”

“You know that cause you're a fucking stalker.” You grunt, feeling him lean in, delight spreading through you when he licks across your cheek.

He tugs at your shirt, exposing your neck, he kisses over your bite scar gently, and you shudder as bliss moves right through you, forcing your toes to curl.

“You know why you like it when I kiss you here?” He emphasizes his words by pressing his lips softly to the silvery scar in question. Your eyes roll back in your head, drawing in a breath, desperately searching for sanity.

“It's where we first connected, where you first let yourself be vulnerable for me.”

You grunt, feeling anger and desire roll inside of you.

“And when were you ever vulnerable?” You shoot back, opening your eyes to peer back at him.

He releases your wrists and you turn to face him, a smug look of satisfaction on your face for having made a decent argument.

You're taken aback a little when he pulls his shirt off, tossing it onto the bed behind him.

“Here.” He reaches for your hand, pressing it to the center of his chest.

Your eyebrows draw together, moving your hand a little to study the spot right in the center of his chest. Sure enough, there's a silvery mark, just like yours, in the shape of a star.

Where you stabbed him, you realise, back in your other apartment, when you’d pressed the stake to his chest and he’d pulled you closer. That, was his first vulnerable moment with you. 

You lean forward, wondering why you never noticed it until now, and it’s probably because you weren’t even looking, that all of his other scars, had done a good job at hiding this one.

You press your lips to it, you can feel the vibration of his long winded groan against your lips. For the first time, you not only feel like his, but he also feels like yours.

“You could have killed me then, and I might have died peacefully to escape the torment of wanting you.”

You reach up, pressing your hands to each side of his maddening face to pull him into a kiss, pressing your tongue into his mouth at the first moment you can.

Billy groans, picking you up easily, legs wrapped around his hips, walking you to the bed before he drops you into the middle, halfway on your bags.

He pulls your shirt up, and you let him, not wanting to be far from his mouth at all, the tips of your fingers tracing his scars as you feel your passion mirrored by him.

He kisses over your chest, gripping your wrists to pin them beside your head, before you know it, your hands are restrained by something else.

He’s used the scarf on the designer bag you’d bought to tie your wrists together above your head, the silk has no give, and he’s knotted the fabric so securely that there’s no hope of freeing yourself on your own.

Your jeans is unbuttoned next, tugged down your legs, and then he grips your delicate underwear with his teeth and tugs harshly until you hear it rip.

Thank god, you think, as he settles his body between your legs, his mouth leaving cool kisses on the inside of your thighs. You mewl, pressing your hips up, desperate to feel his magnificent tongue on you.

“God, you’re dripping.” He murmurs, almost too low for you to hear.

He’s careful, pressing his tongue to your clit, your breath catching in your throat as he moans against you.

You sigh his name, as he licks you, speeding up and slowing down to prolong the torment.

You can’t stop the little sounds, which only worsen when you feel him begin to slowly press a lone finger into you, the pace too slow and shallow to be of any real use.

A sob catches in your throat, trying to relax as best you could, unable to stop your hips from undulating against his fingers and tongue. 

He guides another finger into you, and you shudder, desperate to feel the bliss he’s capable of, after not having him for so long.

“Don’t come.” He orders, lips wrapping around your clit, sucking gently, before he pauses to watch you.

“I can’t-” You cry, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes with the way it stings to deny yourself. 

You can feel the mess you make, of yourself, approaching your high too slowly for your liking.

You gasp when he withdraws, body shaking as you watch him undo his belt, pushing his pants down to free his leaking cock.

He’s so thick, the reminder of what he can do with such a glorious appendage makes you clench with need.

He grips your thighs, pulling your body against his, and you gasp when he ruts his cock against your swollen bud.

“That’s it, baby, feel me.”

You nod eagerly as he lines himself up with your entrance.

You suck in a deep breath, and he smiles proudly down at you as he presses his cock in.

You’re quite loud, unintentionally so, and you maybe feel a little ashamed of sounding so desperate, but the very feeling of him pushing into you, filling you right up to the brim and holding himself there for a long, shaky moment, is enough to have you clenching around him, on the verge of orgasm.

Billy reaches for you, grips your jaw, giving you a proper shake to get your attention.

“Don’t.” He warns, his eyes are the colour of ruby gems, “Not tonight.”

You suck in a sharp breath. He wasn’t going to let you come tonight?!

You begin to wriggle in protest, he reaches down to pin your hips in place, sliding his cock out, to ease himself back in.

“You feel so good baby- fuck-” He leans in to press his mouth to yours, his tongue claiming you boldly.

“Suffer with me.” He begs against your mouth.

You’re not sure what he means, but you nod, forehead to forehead, his cock swollen and heavy inside of you, tears of want in your eyes and yet you nod like a fool when he tells you no.

You pant when he moves, barely able to control yourself, you breathe in his musky scent, letting everything about him overpower you.

He growls, delivering one harsh thrust that makes you cry out, holding himself there for long moments, making you wish he would just put you out of your misery.

You struggle, trying to tug your arms free, deciding instead to place your bound hands over his head, gripping his hair in your hands.

His hands tighten on your hips, the pain of his grip only adding to your pleasure.

He moves slowly, out of rhythm, keeping you balanced right on the edge of pleasure and torment. 

When the denial is too much, you pull his hair hard, hearing him grunt out a laugh, understanding the message you’re trying to convey.

He withdraws slowly, and you swear the emptiness will destroy you.

You pant, looking up into his dark eyes, demanding an explanation. 

He releases the hold on your hips, leaning in to kiss you softly.

He noses at your neck, and you tilt your head reflexively to give him the space he needs to feed from you.

You feel him shake his head against you, nose dragging softly.

“Please.” You whisper, wanting to feel his teeth pierce your skin.

His teeth settle on your neck, a low groan leaves him, before he bites.

He’s quick about it, your skin only starting to sting and throb when he’s two mouthfuls in.

He hums around a swallow, before withdrawing, pressing the fabric of his shirt into your wound.

“I can taste the frustration in your blood, poor thing.” He murmurs, lifting his shirt to lick at the open wounds.

“But god, you still taste so fucking good.”

.

.

.

[ihopeinevergetsoberr]

At cane’s length

this song owns my heart, and i’ve been thinking about writing something with soft dom vibes for a while sooo. here you go.

cw: viktor x reader, smut, viktor is an unbearable tease, gn reader, gn pronouns for reader

word count: 2k~

art cr: @arcanescribbles. my inspiration for this fic, actually.

*standard ‘eng is not my first language so please don’t be mean to me’ bullshit i put before posting every single one of my fics*

reblogs and comments are highly appreciated <3

Viktor is handsome in a cruel way. In an untouchable, ‘tease all the remaining sanity of you’ one, to be precise.

Cruel.

That short, plain word spins on your tongue, threatening to roll off it any second. You audibly gulp, desperately trying to swallow the harsh adjective, and the longing flows down your throat, leaving you breathless — almost too turned on to think straight whatsoever.

You can’t call him that. Even though he’s not exactly opposed to the idea of being relentlessly cussed out by you. It’s the consequences of your boldness that attract him: after all, he gets to watch you all tied up and needy, doe-eyed as you desperately ask to be touched… And then wide-eyed as you switch to being utterly unfiltered and vulgar, trying anything and everything to make him fuck you tonight. Spending the whatever’s left of your wits on those incoherent mumble-like sentences, pleading mewls mixed with the sounds of your knees scraping on the floor from all the squirming you do. Completely and utterly adorable in this state of raw desire, and it figuratively makes your brain slip out of your ear, replaces it with debauched thoughts, with inability to feel anything except for the lust — so intense, that it’s almost painful.

The ingenious, irritatingly smug man or, as you so kindly dubbed him, ‘kinky bastard’ is seated above you, the corners of his mouth curled into a wicked smile, legs spread in this tauntingly inviting manner — testing your limits, mocking you deliberately. He knows that you crave to be between those legs, struggling to fit the aching swell of his cock into your mouth, to let it stretch your slick, heavenly warm throat — or even to be split in twain, fucked over his desk like the horny mess you are — desperate, sobbing, charming in the tantrums you throw just for him, begging to be taken care of. Well, not only begging, to be frank. It’s a full-fledged demanding now, which, decidedly, did flatter Viktor, but being a brat never works on him. You have to be good to obtain his mercy. Negotiating, perhaps. Even when your sanity is gone, even when the only thing you can think of is choking on his dick. Those are the unspoken rules of earning Viktor’s touch — the sweet in its unattainability treasure. And you’ve learned it the hard way.

Viktor thinks it’s only fair, since he can’t be rough with you physically. His body might be sore, but his mind? God, you wish it was sore at least once in a while. Yes, he might not be able to frantically pound you into the mattress, but he’s perfectly capable of coming up with new ways to edge you. Which you loved, of course, but fuck would you prefer the first option so much more. But he’s an incorrigible inventor to the bone. Even in the sheets. Well, more precisely, now — in his lab.

The ropes on your wrists are rubbing the skin, keeping your hands tied reliably behind your back. They serve as one of the numerous reminders of this embarrassingly unfair position Viktor had put you in: you can’t move unless he’s kind enough to let you — he’s not restricted in his movements at all, you’re kneeling in front of him with a vulnerable expression — he’s leaning in his chair with a shit-eating grin, legs spread, head thrown back as he looks down at you in a way a master looks at his servant. You’re fully naked — he’s fully clothed. Viktor calls it ‘the perfect balance’. You call it ‘please, just take that damn thing off’. The idyll.

“Viktor, why are you doing this to me?” you mutter, glancing at him with a weak sigh. He quirks an eyebrow, unbothered, divine-looking with those rays of sunlight peeking through his dark hair, forming a figurative nimbus. ‘Like a god,’ you think, and for the briefest of moments your gaze changes from desperate to enamoured. But then you remember that your god refuses to be worshipped. That he would rather watch you suffer, disregarding your every prayer. And so you frown again.

“Funny, you should ask,” he purrs, the thickness of his accent matching the thickness of sexual tension between you. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re supposed to keep your enemies at arm’s length.“

You scoff, ignoring the painful tingling in your knees, the once cold floor beneath you warm and sticky in the places your hot skin touched it.

“I’m no enemy of yours,” you mutter, sounding almost genuinely offended. But Viktor only laughs, mouth open in a silent, amused ‘oh?’. Your only response is a frustrated moan.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, dear,” he demonstratively clutches his cane, the sexy bend of his long fingers so tempting it nearly has you cumming on the floor. “Didn’t you mention hating me earlier?”

Of course you did. How couldn’t you, when you wanted so badly to open wide for him, to bite on the calloused thumb, the undefinable salty, with a mixture of something metallic taste of his skin so familiar you could easily make it out. Oh, and with accuracy sharp enough for its savour to become a phantom sensation on the tip of your tongue. However, the same tactic never worked for his cock. Whenever you tried to imagine him abruptly pushing it inside of you — the craving would just become stronger, more unbearable. Fantasies were never enough. You needed the real thing.

“Not that I care what label you’ve decided to put on me tonight,” he continues, obviously hinting at the ‘kinky bastard’ incident. “A lover or an enemy — you’re staying at arm’s length.”

“More like at cane’s length,” you mock, angry eyes swirling that white tie oh his slender neck, but the rope around your wrists stops you from tugging on it to angrily steal a kiss.

“Cane’s length?” curious, Viktor leans over you in his chair, and for a second you’re deceived, rejoicing at the proximity, but he’s quick to remind you what a fool you are, his unhinged expression turning into an entertained one. “You have quite the brilliant mind, darling. We should probably test that out.”

Your teeth instantly sink into your tongue, instinctively scolding yourself for the inability to watch your mouth. Why, just why would you say that?

“Test that out?” you mumble, as your gaze drops to his shoes, unable to handle the intensity of his amber eyes lancing through your face.

“Exactly,” Viktor confirms, slyly biting his lower lip. “You see,” he utters, as his crutch loudly taps on the floor, causing you to shudder, “I don’t think the distance between us is equal to the length of my cane.”

“You can’t be serious,” you snapped at him, sobbing frustratingly. “Viktor, it was just a metaphor.”

“I’m a scientist, my dear. I don’t do metaphors. I do calculations and proven facts,” he utters, placing the crutch into his lap, and you find yourself shamefully jealous of that stupid stick, wishing terribly it was you resting there instead of it.

Viktor gives the cane an evaluating gaze, as if trying to measure it with his eyes, cruel grin never leaving that sharp, currently reachless for you face.

“So, supposedly,” he clears his throat, hoarse voice unbearably seductive as he pensively looks you up and down, taking in the debauched arch of your back, the redness on your aching knees. “I believe that my cane is around… say, thirty five inches long. And you, my dear,” he grabs the cane by its handle again, pointing at your face, left eye closed as if he’s trying to measure something again, torturing you shamelessly, “are still too close.”

The annoyance is impossible to hold in anymore. It’s a pure torment — incredibly hot in a certain perverted way, if you were to be frank, but god did you hate him with every fibre of your being right now, dreaming of fucking this mocking sass out of him, of teaching him a lesson. Viktor deserved to be ruined purely for the way he keeps those skilled hands to himself right now, denying you the oh so craved pleasure.

“Well, I don’t think I’m close enough to you” a protest escapes your pouted lips, but it appeared to have fallen on deaf ears, just like all of your previous, hopelessly useless pleas.

“Eh, debatable,” he utters casually, driving you even more mad with a playful shake of that insufferably smart head. You bite back an angry ‘tsk’, followed by a pissed-off roll of the furious eyes. Viktor is quick to notice the bratty demeanour.

He’s smooth in his roughness. In testing your patience with the insatiability of his own. Something cold quickly brushes your chin, forcibly tilting your head up again, and you huff at the audacity, eyes snapping open as you realise that he’s coaxing you to look him in the eye with his fucking cane.

“The fuck?” you hiss at the cocky jerk, but the way he holds that crutch to your face disarms you, adds even more arousal to the mixture of intense feelings building up inside of you.

“Language, my dear,” he purrs, eyes sparkling with malicious pride, “we‘re in a respectable place.“

He bares the upper row of his teeth, smiling at his own witty remark, and you can swear to god that never in your life have you wanted to wipe a grin off somebody’s face so badly. With a kiss, preferably. But a fist would work just perfectly fine too.

“Oh please,” you hitch in breath when the same hard edge of the cane slips off your chin to fleetingly press into your neck, but something about the uncertainty of Viktor’s movements tells you that he’s not done with you yet, that there’s more ‘foreplay’ to come. “Your lab is not a church.”

“Oh yeah? Why are you kneeling then?” he teases, poking you with that sharp sarcasm. As if a goddamn crutch against your throat is not humiliating enough already.

“I want to slap you.”

Viktor hums, and the tortuous cane traces the curve of your shoulder, causing your breath to hitch in anticipation, the contrast of the cool material with your hot skin stealing a dreamy gasp from you.

“Slap me?” he murmurs, enjoying the way you suffer for him. Because of him. “Well, too bad I’m that good at tying knots.”

“You’re an awful person.”

“Oh, don’t flatter me like that.”

“No, seriously, why don’t you just allow me to make you feel good?” you practically cry out, arching your hips in a desperate attempt to get closer to him. But the cane is still there, gently dipped into your collarbone to keep you in place.

“You’re already making me feel good,” he whispers, pushing you away, and all you can do is groan, squirming like you’re facing grim death. But considering the current intensity of your overstimulation, that death might actually turn into quite the real one. In the guise of this devilishly handsome tease, which would make it the worst and the best way to go at the same time.

“But I can make you feel even better,” you beg, half-lidded, exhausted and so beautiful in this perverted state of such earnest vulnerability. Just precious. Sacred even, if the situation wasn’t so sinful. “Viktor, please. Aren’t you done torturing me? I could do so much better than just grovel here.”

“Perhaps,” he presumes, but you know him and his undying love for the eye-fucking too well. Hell, he might just adore this humbling staring even more than having actual sex with you. “But I would rather enjoy the exhibition for a little longer.”

You roll your eyes again. A rather dangerous choice of a reaction, because the crutch in his hand abruptly taps on your shoulder, drawing your attention back to his glistening eyes.

“Roll your eyes at me again and I’ll make it two cane’s length,” he threatens, and you bite your lip to suppress a pitiful moan so hard, that your teeth leave two crimson marks on it’s tender flesh.

And that sexy, secretly favourite torture of yours starts all over again.

[saintslewis]

Pink + White



pairing: charles leclerc x black fem dj!reader

summary: in which your relationship with charles gets exposed so you decide to just hard launch

face claim: uncle waffles 😋

social media au. (with a bit of writing)

-

twitter

instagram

yourinstagram

liked by carlossainz55, arthurleclerc and 3,684,291 others

yourinstagram mon amour

view comments

user did we skip a few chapters??

user i don't remember seeing this in the prologue???

leclerk MARRIAGE?!

yourinstagram i'm just as surprised as you are tbh

carlossainz55 you have no idea how hard it was to keep this secret

charles_leclerc you are very much appreciated, mate

landonoriss i took the second pic btw 🤭

yourinstagram you want a cookie?

landonoriss yes pls

yourinstagram they're in the pantry, come over whenever

lewishamilton congrats you two! sending love and light 🤍

yourinstagram thank you Lewis 🥹 and thank you for making me work during our engagement party

lewishamilton i didn't know anyone better 😭

yourinstagram i'll take that hidden compliment, old man

user user look! she’s sooooo pretty! Charles is so lucky

user and they do look like the ending of pink + white

yourinstagram this is the sweetest thing ever omg??

fan my fav dj is engaged to my fav f1 driver?? what is life? tutorial?

yourinstagram we have a couples interview coming up soon so stay tuned for that 🩷

scuderiaferrari our favourite lady in red ❤️

yourinstagram didn't want to mess up this face beat but the tears are already flowing 🥹🫂

danielricciardo so i have a slight favour....

yourinstagram lemme hard launch in peace pls

lilymhe and how the FUCK have i never seen you at races?

yourinstagram what if i told you i'm an international super spy?

user SUPER SPYYY

ynstan we lost you to a YT MAN?!

yourinstagram listen, i love this yt man very much

arthurleclerc am i allowed to gloat that i was the first to know?

yourinstagram you can gloat but don't forget you literally barged in after the proposal

arthurleclerc why'd you call me out like this?

formula1 this was not on our 2023 bingo card but we love this very much

charles_leclerc my beautiful wife

yourinstagram my darling husband

f1wagupdates

liked by ynlover, mercedesgirly and 3,345 others

f1wagupdates looks like we have a new lady joining the paddock (she’s on the left!). Her name is Y/n Y/l/n (soon to be Leclerc) and she is an international dj by profession. She is reportedly two years younger than Charles and spends most of her off days in Monaco with him. The couple revealed their relationship by Y/n showing off a diamond ring on her latest post. We wish this beautiful couples nothing but happiness!

view comments

user are we just gonna ignore the elephant in the room?

user is the elephant in the room with us? and if you're gonna say it, just say it with your chest you loser

user an insider said that she already deals with direct insults from paddocks around the world. i can't imagine what she's about to go through

user if you scroll on her page, all you see is her wearing skimpy clothes for her job with everything showing. charles deserves better

user if anything, she serves cunt in every way possible and when you say he deserves better, you're talking about yourself? bc boy do I have news for YOU 🤣

user love a black woman from infinity to infinityyyyyy

user my god, she is gorgeous

user saw her in show once and she is TALENTEDT

user here comes his 'wives' in the comments being weird

user like he's my husband but i will GLADLY be sister wives with her

user not sure if i want her or him or both

user when i saw the rumours, i didn't know that she was THIS pretty like how did Charles pull her????

f1wagupdates that's what we're thinking

user the twitter girlies were right omg and the fact that she drives the pista had to mean they were married bc literally no one but him drives that car

user she seems so sweet, i hope nothing bad happens to her

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, sebastianvettel and 5,838,393 others

charles_leclerc mi belle

view limited comments

user how the hell did he pull her???

charles_leclerc her mom helped

sebastianvettel congratulations ❤️

charles_leclerc thank you, mate 🫂

carmenmmundt my girlfriend 😋

georgerussell63 hello??

charles_leclerc hello???

yourinstagram hey Carmen 🥰

user this hair colour on her is so pretty

maxverstappen1 the one lady that Yuki is taller than ❤️

yourinstagram i will literally burn all your rbr caps, don’t test me

maxverstappen1 what are you gonna do? hit my knees? 🤣

yourinstagram i’ll ban you from entering clubs :)

maxverstappen1 okay sorry y/n ��

interview

"Does this hair look fine?" You looked at Charles as you flipped your hair to the front to decide on how you want to look on camera. The Monegasque man stared with you with such admiration that he didn't even realise he wasn't blinking. You nudged him to break him out of his trance that you seemed to have on him and he shook his head a little, giving you a boyish smile when he saw your amused face.

“Everything looks good on you, baby.” Charles complimented you, something he can’t go a day without doing. Your smile had closed your eyes as you held each other’s hands. The camera crew in front of you were in awe at the two of you showing each other your love.

“Okay, are you guys ready to begin?” The interviewer asked as she sat across from you two. You both nodded and scooted closer together. She had introduced herself and the both of you as her guests before you introduced yourselves as each other’s fiancés before your careers which caused the studio to laugh.

“How did you two meet?”

“Mon amour, you can start. I’ll add on here and there.” Charles encouraged, playing with the jewellery on your hand and staring at your engagement ring, all the memories of the proposal coming back to him. It was summer break for f1 and you two were in the hotel room overlooking Lake Como, feeling like you were in a movie. You had planned to get lunch then take a boat ride to a famous landmark there. When you had gotten there, it was quiet and you barely saw the photographer that Charles had hired for that day. You both stood in the huge butterfly garden, with you distracted by the flowers, he knelt down on his knee and professed his love for you, ‘pink + white’ by frank ocean playing in the background per his request. It was private yet so beautiful, calling both your families who knew and Arthur surprising you after the proposal.

“It’s a cute story if I do say so myself. I had taken my mom to Monaco as it has always been our dream and I was finally able to provide that for her. We were sitting in this pretty cafe in Monte Carlo and to be fair, we were gossiping and laughing so of course people would hear us but we weren’t that loud.” You smiled at the memory, seeing everything as you spoke.

“All during our lunch, Charles and Arthur, my brother in law, were sitting next to us and they were in their own realm too.” You said, giving him a look so that he could say his version of the story.

“Well um like Y/n said, I’m with my brother and I kept trying to hear what accent she had because it was beautiful. So I turn to her and ask her where she was from and we just started talking as her mom and my brother are waiting for us to finish. Her mom even said that we were meant to be because when we met, the dress she was wearing was the same colour as my eyes.” Charles spoke, constantly looking between you and the camera.

“He then asked to take me on a date the very next day and he said that he wanted to give me the universe and would be happy if i spent time with him, even if it were a short while. Three years later, here we are.” You concluded, showing your ring to the camera as you couldn’t stop smiling.

Just the beginning for the Ferrari boy and his queen.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the glow

lilac, chapter thirteen

a/n: a little bit more sluttiness, anyone? sdfghjklæø like I'm offering refreshments or something

summary: "I don’t wanna promise anything, but I do wanna try."

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, smut, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, crying, renovating an inn, clothed sex, outdoor sex, car sex, public sex, kissing, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, oral, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (because this is just porn. no one is getting pregnant, I’m just craving the intimacy. let them be hoes and live out the fantasy)

word count: 4157

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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Rolling the stubby pencil in your grasp, you let the tip ghost down the list as you murmured each item out loud, checking that you’d indeed gotten everything you lacked from the hardware store.

Your body jostled lightly as the stocked truck sped over a small bump in the road. Flicking one last checkmark on the small block of paper, you peeled your eyes away from the list and exhaled, “alright, I think we got everything,” sliding the small notepad and pencil back into one of the many roomy pockets adorned on the beige overalls you wore. 

Casting a quick glance in your direction, the driver nodded, “except for the door handles, which I’ll drive back for when they get them back in stock.”

“Frank,” you tried to diminish the smile that began to bloom, “I can go get them myself, you know. My car is fixed now and it’s not like door handles take up this much space,” you waved a hand back to the chaos that was the attempt at fitting all of the various materials into the vehicle in one go, the fact that Frank still managed to drive just fine, even with the review mirror completely obscured and long sticks of moulding poking past his seat and minimising his range of movement, was rather impressive. In fact, you had to tilt your head in order to get a clear view of him past all of the clutter in the space between you. 

“Yeah, but I don’t mind,” he shrugged, briefly flashing you a smile that made you stop hiding your own. 

As his vision returned to the road, you let your own wander and take in the lush forest that hugged either side of the lane. It stretched on for as long as your eye could take you, no breaks, the only variation was the change from birch to pine you spotted farther down the rural path. 

Hearing the rustling of Frank changing gears, your eyes naturally found his hand, shadowing the tight grip as it returned to the steering wheel. 

You couldn’t help but unconsciously drag your lower lip through your teeth as your gaze traced the back of his hands. From the shadow of fuss on his wrist that emerged out from under the hem of his dark flannel to the veins that danced under the skin every time he tightened his grasp. 

“Hey, Frank?” you breathed, letting the dull throbbing between your thighs sway your words. 

“Hm?” he simply hummed, not taking his eyes off the road, “what?”

“What if you stopped and parked the car for a little bit?”

“Why? Are you okay?” he asked, finally tearing his gaze away to glance at you, the intent behind your words finally breaking through his tough shell, “oh,” an airy chuckle flowed out pasted his lips and you let your head blissfully fall back against the headrest, your gaze never seizing, “oh! alright, yeah, I can definitely park the car.”

With no other vehicles on the road, Frank wasn’t gentle as he swung into a spot on the side of the road.

As he tugged up the brakes and retroactively pushed up the thicket of clutter between your seats that much further, your fingers found one of the straps to your overalls and fiddled to pop it open as you leaned in closer. 

Reaching with a hand through the mess of moulding to pull his lips to yours, a giggle only gushed from you as the eruption made it near impossible for you to do anything other than bang your forehead in your desperate attempt, “I don’t–, how do we do this?” a laugh bubbled out of you, “I don’t think I thought this part through enough.”

Only echoing your amusement for a second, a solution then fluttered across his features. Wordlessly, he opened his side of the truck and got out, leaving you with your hands thrown up in the air, still giggling and your gaze tracking him through the window as he crossed to your side and yanked open your door.

Grasping each side of your face, he bent down and drew you into a silky kiss. Rotating further in his direction, a light whimper slipped out past your lips and vibrated against his tongue as his fingers slid up through your hair. 

Slipping your right leg past his frame, each of your thighs now hugged around him as you hooked your index fingers into his belt loops and tugged him closer. 

As your palm began to pet him through his pants, an intoxicating groan reverberated within him and his fingers drifted down to the dungaree strap that was still secure over your shoulder, but then when the attempt at popping it open became more of a struggle than he’d anticipated, a chuckle bubbled out of you as Frank leaned back and cursed through his grin, “goddamnit! Why won’t it just–, there!” and it finally came undone. Throwing the long strap over your shoulder, the upper part of your overalls tumbled down your frame and gathered just below your waist, revealing to Frank just how hard your nipples were through the soft long-sleeved shirt you wore beneath. 

Leaning down to graze his lips across the side of your neck, you felt him yank your top up just high enough for your tits to pop out, letting it gather and cling to your skin just over the peaks as the mild breeze that hit them caused goosebumps to erupt.

After his palms offered your soft peaks and tender squeeze, they slid down towards the buttons still fastened on the side of your hips. As his nimble fingers popped them open one by one, you pulled his lips back up to yours, his body hungrily craning closer and causing your spine to follow along, leaning back further till you were lying down across the seats. 

Except, your back never did meet the expected contact. Instead, your head collided sharply with the cluttered supplies still demanding so much of the room. 

“Ouch!” your hand shot up to the part of your skull that now throbbed dully. As your eyes found Frank’s, a genuine laugh billowed out of you both and took the pain away, “this is such a disaster!”

Pressing a light peck to your brow, Frank muttered, “maybe we should just wait till we get back.”

“Maybe,” you blinked up at him and pouted your lips lightheartedly, “but I’m so fucking wet right now, it actually feels like I’m on fire!” your laugh never dying down a second.

“Oh,” a gravelly groan tumbled out of his chest and his fists closed around the fabric around your hips, “please don’t say that…” 

“Why?” you tilted your chin up, nearly closing the short distance and sharing his hot breath. 

But before you could press your lips to his once more, you let out a surprised yelp as Frank suddenly scooped his grasp under your bottom and hoisted you into his arms.

“What are you–,” you tried to ask, but you soon received your answer as he carried you a short distance around the gaping door and sat you down onto the hood of the car. With a smirk fast on his lips, Frank began to tug your dungarees, as well as the soaked underwear beneath, down over your hips, “here? Are you serious? What if someone drives by and sees us?”

“No one ever drives here,” his head shook lightly from side to side as he ceased his efforts, letting your garments bunch up just above your knees, “we’ll be fine for a little bit.”

And the next thing you knew, Frank had plucked up your legs and raised them up so far that your back fell down against the car as he practically folded you in half. With his forearm strong against the back of your knees, he pressed the tops of your thighs down against your stomach, exposing your molten core to him like a present. 

“You really weren’t lying, sweetheart,” he landed an electric smack to your bottom, “look at this,” your whole body trembled when he finally touched your pussy, pinching the puff teasingly and rolling your pearl between your petals, “you’re fucking soaked.”

You were gonna reply, think of some witty remark, but all of that became impossible when he bent down and lapped at your folds.

Kissing at the wetness that seeped out of you, his greedy tongue couldn’t help but sneak in a bit as he nuzzled closer, his prominent nose nudging against your clit as he did so. 

“F-Frank–,” your fingers captured your nipples in a needy pinch as you hazily blinked up at the treetops and clouds above.

Drawing back, he eagerly landed a dollop of spit onto your core and with his free hand, mixed his small bubbles in with your mess, “yeah? What is it?” parting your petals with his abruptly feathery caresses, you squirmed beneath his hold as he came to circle your entrance, “does it feel good, is that it?” he teased you till your eyelids fluttered.

“Please p-put your fingers inside of me–”

“Huh?” he smirked, only lightening his touch even though he obviously comprehended every single word of your pathetic blubbering, “what was that?”

“I wanna feel your fingers–,” but the rest of your begging never saw the light of day as he suddenly slid two of his thick digits inside, brashly cutting off your words, “ah!”

“Here?” he didn’t hold back as he pumped inside of you, “is this where you wanna feel me?” swiftly adding another long finger, giving your cunt what it was pleading for, and as he did so, strumming your inner walls and stretching you out till your toes curled in your shoes, one of your hands left your tit and shot down to flutter against the one of his that was still strong at the back of your trembling legs. Tapping against the back of it, he swiftly turned his palm upwards and welcomed your hold tenderly as you feverishly grasped his hand in yours, “right here where you’re so fucking warm and wet and soft?” dipping back down, tightening his hand around yours, he then captured your clit with his lips and sucked down hard, “so fucking perfect…” the sincere addition resonated in a deep groan that melted against your puffy pearl. 

It didn’t take too much longer before you cried out beneath him and your nails dug into his palm as you tumbled over the edge, “oh, fuck!” and if he hadn’t been holding you so securely, you’d properly have fallen off the car as well. 

Withdrawing his touch, his lips then fluttered up the back of your thighs till they danced across your hand still engulfed by his.

As he straightened back up, you hazily peeked up at him with a stary gaze, still completely melted against the hood. 

“What?” he smiled, noting the fuzzy grin that adorned your blissful features. 

“Nothing,” you bit down on your bottom lip as you blinked up at him in complete and utter awe, “you just make me very happy, that’s all.”

Beaming down at you, “well, good,” the faintest of sincere chuckles escaped his lungs, “you make me very happy as well.”

As he loosened his hold and shifted your legs to hang over the crook of his left arm, you playfully poked, “how happy?”

Only fiddling with his fly for but a second, the next thing you knew a light gasp slipped out your parted lips as you felt him tap his heavy cock against your cunt, letting you feel him throb against where you did.

“That answer it for you?” he smirked, rubbing brashly against you.

“I don’t know…” you giggled, feeling his tip catch your entrance “I think I might need to feel a few more inches to really grasp what you mean.”

Not one to deprive you, Frank then brashly buried himself completely, forcing all of the oxygen to flow out of your lungs as his heavy sack pressed up against your ass.

Breathless himself, he smugly croaked, “you get it now?”

“Y-yeah, I-I–, yeah–,” you shuttered deliciously beneath him, your legs, still sort of bound and restrained by your dungarees, trembled on the side in his grasp at the staggering sensation of his girth.

Feeling his hand rake its way up to press against your cheek, you leaned into the caress a moment before turning your head and placing a few hazy pecks along the calloused palm, before he started to move and your teeth gently sank into the muscle and muffled your moan. 

It wasn’t hard enough to break the skin, but when your head eventually fell back and your lips detached, you noted the small light marks that stayed on the strong root of his thumb, not that Frank seemed to mind, even if you had managed to somehow break the tough skin, he wouldn’t have minded, probably wouldn’t even have batted an eye.

Curling his hand back around the nape of your neck, he scooped your upper body back upright. Gliding the right arm around you and hooking it with his left, he held you in his arms and cradled you close as he rocked against you with steady and breath-taking thrusts. 

It wasn’t hard to notice how his gaze suddenly dropped to your lips, starvingly staring at them as he then uttered, “kiss me,” the whisper sounding like a wish on the wind as he drove in and kissed you as if he hadn’t gotten the privilege in aeons. 

Burying your grasp in the thickness of his flannel, you heard his hips meet yours in sloppy crashes. 

Shifting his hold a bit, you felt his right hand glide up your spine, still staying steady against it as his fingers slid into your locks, his short nails scraping hypnotically against your scalp. 

As he twisted your hair up in his hand, you whimpered against his tongue, raising a few fingers up to thread through his dark beard. 

“Oh, Y/n,” his head tilted back in a gravelly moan, a glinting string of saliva still keeping your lips connected, “holy fuck,” he panted in the hot air between you, “you feel so good.”

Readjusting you in his grasp, his left arm now supported you, the wide palm pressing against your back, while the right one dragged down to your hip and dug into the softness as his gaze followed. 

Shifting his weight, he tilted back and marvelled down at how lavishly he sank into you time and time again. 

But then suddenly, without warning, the pulled out of you completely and let out a low moan, “oh my god,” his brows dreamily knitted together as his right hand slid down to pull at your left ass cheek, “fucking look at that,” briefly sliding back inside in his entirety, he then slipped back out and shared what wasn’t within your view, “your pretty little pussy’s gaping so beautifully for me,” your creamy cunt winked at him after he retracted. The addicting visage of just how relaxed and turned on you were persuaded him to lower his fingers to the base of his girth and aid his repeated efforts as he methodically sank in and pull back out, “I think she likes me,” he grinned adoringly, “likes how I feel, likes how I split her open… remember back when she struggled to take even the tip? Just look at her now…” losing it completely, the next time he plugged you up, he didn’t slip back out, “I’m so proud of your pussy,” giving in to a fevered pace that caused your eyes to roll in your skull, “being so good, being the fucking best, taking every inch of me so perfectly.”

Your quivering legs dangled over his arm at the rough and desperate efforts, holding you tight and rocking you back down against his thrusts as you felt yourself unravel once more. Trying your best to keep your eyes locked on his, you heard your name like a mantra on his lips as he too swiftly followed suit, pressing his forehead to yours as your clenching cunt milked him of all of his worth.

“Ah…” his content sigh fanned across your flaming cheeks, “fuck…”

Carefully slipping back out, he let the weight of him simply rest against you as his load slowly trickled out of your tender hole. 

“That was–,” you fussily started as you felt him tug your shirt back down over your goosebump-ridden torso, “yeah… that was amazing…”

Mirroring your lazy grin, he concurred, “yeah…”

“Thanks for not waiting till we got back. It really isn’t that easy trying to convince people that the noises they heard were just construction stuff and not something more uncouth,” you chuckled lightly, “especially now that we’re done with all the heavy lifting… oh, wait, speaking of which, before I forget, what do I actually owe you?”

Tilting his head back, he stared down at you in amused confusion, “huh?”

“I mean for the renovation of the inn, not the–, uh, this,” you giggled, “you just said in the beginning that we’d talk about your payment when it’s done, and now it nearly is, so what do I owe you?”

“Oh sweetheart,” a warm chuckle rumbled faintly within him as he tugged a stray piece of your hair behind your ear, “I think you’ve given me plenty of compensation,” indicating the link that had flourished between you two, “I’m good,” and then he leaned in and grazed his lips against yours in a tender kiss. 

With your eyes still glued to the spot on the baseboard where you’d just smashed a nail in and secured the long strip of moulding to the bottom of the wall that much further, you didn’t shift your gaze as you extended the hand, not clutching the hammer, to snatch up another nail. But when your fingers grazed across the floorboards you sat upon and failed to find the small pile of pins, you finally lifted your gaze to realise that you’d used up all of them. 

“Oh, hey, I’m out of nails,” you glanced over your shoulder at the other side of the narrow room where Frank was stationed, taking care of the job you’d split up and shared, his progress migrating him slightly closer to you, “could I–”

“Yeah,” he uttered, his hand already dipping into the small cardboard container beside him and scooping up a handful before his long arm extended enough for him to reach your open palm, “here,” he let the cool metal cascade into your grasp.

“Thanks,” you flashed him a smile before he returned to the task. 

Just as you placed the handful down beside your crisscrossed legs, a figure appeared in the doorway.

“Waow,” Harvey peeked his head in, the floorboard gently creaking beneath his gentle tread, “this looks great! I tell ya, if your grandparents knew that the bloom room could look like this? Whew… they’d be ecstatic.”

“Well, it’ll look even better once the furniture is back in here,” you watched as your father’s gaze wandered around like he was a child in a toy store, “actually, dad… like, I get that grandma thought rhyming was fun, it is, but don’t you think it’s about time that we change the room names?”

As soon as your question left your lips, Harvey’s eyes swept to you in an appalled glare, a shuttering breath escaped his lungs before he stood his ground, “I am not changing the names just because it may confuse some of the guests! That godawful floral wallpaper might not have been up in this room in over 40 years, but I’m not changing it, not this one, not any of them. My mother named them those silly names and they’re damn well gonna stay!”

“…even the doom��room?”

Promptly, his stubbornness then visually melted away, “…alright, maybe just that one… it’s fun to say, but does sound awfully ominous,” folding his arms across his chest, he tilted his head in thought, “maybe we could think of some other word that rhymes with room… let’s see, we’ve already got the doom room, the bloom room, moon room and the shroom room… hm… might have to sleep on that one… never the less, this all looks phenomenal. You kids really did a great job,” he shifted his gaze between you and Frank, “shinned this place up like a brand new penny!”

“Ah, it’s not hard to mess up when the bones are so good,” Frank hummed. 

Just as Harvey began to shift back out of the room, you sat the hammer down on the floor and began to lift yourself up to your feet, “wait, uhm, dad? Do you have a second?” his warm gaze found yours as he halted, “there’s just something I wanna discuss with you.”

“Oh, sure, pumpkin,” he then scooped a hand through the air, “come with me downstairs,” and when you’d migrated to the hallway beside him, he shifted his vision to catch Frank’s and asked, “and by the way, I just brewed a fresh pot of coffee, if you wanna just help yourself while we chat.”

“Yeah, why not,” he breathed before joining you both down the stairs. 

As Frank disappeared into the kitchen, you and the moustachioed elder pulled up a few chairs to one of the tables in the vacant dining room. 

“So…” you drew out a deep breath and lowered your gaze to your hands as you weaved your fingers together. 

“…so?” your father’s soothing rumble searched the air.

“I’ve been thinking,” you started, noticing how you suddenly got a bit nervous at the reality of the statement you wished to share, “both with everything–, uh…” your chest began to tighten as you almost uttered Preston’s name, “you know, everything…” catching his eye, he offered you a light nod of understanding, “and also with the renovation being essentially done…” one of your thumbs shifted, the nail pressing into your palm, “… I know that I said you shouldn’t count on me staying here, that I didn’t wanna go back to living out here, that this was just temporary… but right now, the thought of moving to a city I’ve never stepped foot in before really scares me and the thought of going back to New York and potentially bumping into–… well… uh… I think what I’m trying to say, and please don’t say I told you so, but I think I might wanna stay. At least for a while. With all of this time and labour I’ve put into repairing this place, I just couldn’t help but rethink everything I thought was so–, well, lame when I was young, and, I don’t know, I kinda just saw it in a new light. I don’t wanna promise anything, but I do wanna try.”

Drawing in a slow breath, the raw emotion shined clear in Harvey’s voice as he uttered, “really?”

“Yeah, I think so,” you nodded lightly, “at least for a while, till I feel like I’m enough back on my feet to figure things out,” as you caught sight of how glossy your father’s eyes had become, you reached out to lay your palm atop his, a soft smile tipping up the corners of your lips, “dad, please don’t cry.”

“What? I’m not crying,” he sniffled and squeezed your hand back tightly, “this is just my lifelong dream coming true, that’s all! My baby’s taking over the family business!”

“I’m not taking over, I’m just trying it out for a bit,” you corrected wearily. 

As you leaned in closer over the table to wipe a tear off the side of Harvey’s beaming face, the phone out in the lobby then suddenly began to ring, halting your fingers from taking care of the other cheek. 

Casting a glance over your shoulder to the reception beyond the archway, you turned back to see your dad fast in his seat, his grin only growing wider as he cocked his head, “well, you’re the boss now, pumpkin. You should go answer it, who knows, it could be a very important business call.” 

Biting down on your smile, you hurried out into the entryway, whiling around the front desk just before the ringing ceased. As you raised the receiver of the old, jade-green rotary phone up to your ear, your vision settled on the figures that appeared in the archway as both your father and Frank settled against the frame.

“Lilac Inn, this is Y/n speaking. Hello, how can I help you today? Oh, you’d like a room? Five weeks from now? One moment, I’ll check,” you flipped a few pages of the big open planner resting on the desk before you, “ah, yes, we do have a room available at that time…” 

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[thetwotorches]

A lot of books & videos that are centered around working with the human dead taut the idea that you should want to be a psychopomp-type figure, saying if you want to work with or interact with the dead then you need to be ready to help them move on. However, they rarely explain any dangers or concerns with psycopomp work, and I feel like surely there must be some? In your experience, what would you warn potential psychopomps or mediums about with this kind of work? How do you feel about this common insistence that every spirit worker who specializes with the dead should be ready to do this kind of work?

Hello, Snowy! Thank you for this question. It's very interesting, and I will say now that I will likely go off the beaten path a bit with my answer.

As I can only speak for myself and not the authors of any books or videos, the bluntest way to put it is that weird shit runs in my family and this particular 'task' happens to be my lot of it. I have my theories as to why, but they are ultimately irrelevant. All this to preface that I didn't exactly choose this, it's something I've been grappling with and trying to figure out since I was in diapers.

I wasn't 'ready' for anything when I watched things go flying off of my dresser at three years old, or to be carried around by my great grandfather only to wake up and be told that he had passed away overnight. I am unsure how it is for those who are able to choose this sort of thing, but when it comes as a built-in feature there is no such thing as 'ready', there is only 'well these are things that happen sometimes- better figure it out so you don't have a bad time'. Those are my personal thoughts on 'readiness'.

As for dangers....I have lived in three haunted houses, and to be honest those bothered me more than friends and family visiting me. I have watched things fly off of counters, off of shelves, heard footsteps, keyboards being used, I mean I could go on. In the previous ask I mentioned the 'dissonance' that can be extremely unnerving, and you get a lot of that living in a place that's haunted. I was a child for the first two houses and I had no tools for dealing with any of it, so my reactions were anywhere between ignoring it completely and just silently cleaning up any messes as if nothing had happened, to being so afraid I couldn't even scream, locking my bedroom door, and praying haha. The last haunted place I lived in was more recent, a few years ago, and I had a bit more awareness. When things started to go flying, I very calmly and politely asked them aloud to maybe not do that, because hey it's not fun to see! Thank you for your time. And sure enough, it did not happen again! Instead the object they previous pushed off the shelf was very politely left on my bed for me some feet away- but they didn't do it in front of me! So technically I couldn't get mad!

I feel this goes to show that simple, vocalized communication can go a long way in handling situations, especially ones that feel troubling to us. Nothing elaborate was needed in this instance, just a frank talk, a cool head, and a dose of courage.

As for the idea of *mandatory* responsibilities, such as helping others cross over, where I am at the moment I feel very ebb-and-flow about this idea. In other words, going with the flow has not only suited me but likely also probably kept me out of any significant trouble. Just as you wouldn't approach strangers on the street and follow them for blocks trying to sell them something, I have never tried to 'help' anyone do anything they never asked of me first. The agreeable ghost in my last apartment was more concerned about the lousy boy I was dating, not in leaving the house, and that's fine. It's their choice! This is my current perspective on that sort of thing.

I think if I had to recommend any 'protections', though, it would be to have a good relationship with your ancestors and also with a known spirit who specializes in this sort of thing. At the bare minimum not only are they your best tutors, but they can also be a strong shield and defense if things ever feel off.

I hope this answer has been helpful- thank you very much for your question!

[wgc-productions]

Live Blog: The Magnus Archives 6- Squirm

Question: can y'all see the embedded player? I think there might be a glitch in the system?

Anyhow, the description of this episode (i.g. Statement of Timothy Hodge regarding his sexual encounter with Harriet Lee and her subsequent death.) is already pretty fun in the sense that I feel like I'll be reading/listening to a particularly salacious early 20th century tabloid which I think at least 1/5 of all entertainment should achieve.

Let's go! (The actual live blog is under the cut)

02:25- The way this guy says "schedule" is so fun to me. There are always going to be a few words that, when said with a British accent, just inspire delight and that's one of them.

04:02- The beginning is a very good place to start.

04:16- Single-Narrator/ Single-Actor podcasts are so economical to make. Like, we raised approximately $10,200 for Season 2 of Small Victories and the majority of that money went to Cast and Crew payment. I can only imagine how slim of a budget you can run on when you only have one cast member.

07:11- Anytime someone mentions dancing at a club I picture The Bronze from Buffy. And, more specifically, I picture the scene of Buffy and Faith having a whale of a time there. Funny how that works out.

08:16- Man, hope she isn't a shedding praying mantis or something messed up like that.

10:20- Oh! Alarming!

10:53- To be frank, if a woman is lying face down in the street she clearly needs help. Don't really have to ask.

11:29- I don't know if any of you guys have read Department of Truth (if you haven't I would totally recommend it, it's a comic about a secret government agency that combats the destructive reality bending power of conspiracy theories, also the devil is there) but the woman in the red dress reminds me of this character in DoT who is also called The Woman In The Red Dress. She's is also genuinely unsettling (she has x's where her eyes should be and she bends reality around her and is maybe the Whore of Babylon, I'm not done with it yet. Good read if you're into horror).

13:42- ABSOLUTELY NOT! ABORT MISSION! GET UP AND OFF!!

14:02- Oh no, this is horrible.

15:53- Okay, out of all the episodes I've heard so far this is the one that is actually freaking me out. Like Episode 5 had the teeth which was freaky. The coffin episode was a little unsettling. But body horror is so ~eugh~ to me, especially when the image is in my imagination. I just don't like it at all.

17:13- WORMS!

17:21- Concerning? Way to understate it Johnathan. I can not imagine what the thing that's going to make him a believer. I feel like Mulder and John is Scully. Don't you want to believe, Sims!

18:24- Now, it may have been too long since I last listened, but should I know who Jane Prentis is at this point?

Okay, I'm getting into the flow. I'm intrigued by this Jane Prentis person (again, have we already been introduced and I'm spacing, or is this a new person that I'll learn more about?) and what she means in the context of the overall story.

I love mysteries quite a bit (I love them more than horror) and so starting an overarching mystery in the midst of what is, ostensibly, an anthology is great for me!

[xo-punisher-xo]

Coffee date

(Old ass Frank fic I wrote when I was at peak Frankie brain rot, I don’t think I’ll ever finish it so here is the unfinished thing LMAO. Sorry abt the weird spacing 💔)

Gentle taps of the jazz brushes and ever flowing piano chords playing over the speakers fill your head as you occupy a wobbly wooden oak chair in a coffee shop. You’re scrolling your phone with glazed over eyes as you take another sip of your drink, the shops doorbell rings and you can’t help but peel your eyes away from your phone to look up to see what stranger is walking in today; his build is stocky yet firm and there’s a softness to his rather bold features. You catch his gaze before realizing how weird it might be to be staring at a stranger and immediately pull your eyes away from his dark brown ones, you try your best to keep your eyes glued to your phone as if nothing had happened but his gaze was infectious and left you wanting more.

You meekly peek up from your phone to drink up more of his appearance and less of your coffee. He’s standing at the counter with a black hoodie wrapping itself around his frame and cargo pants bend and curve at the will of his legs, your eyes meet again but this time his are smaller on account of him smiling… he’s smiling at you? You didn’t think it was possible for a rather tough looking man to have such a warm and welcoming smile, you return one of your own trying to replicate the delicacy that’s adorned his face.

You continue watching him as he nods and thanks the barista for his order, not offering the same courtesy of letting them see his smile as he did with you. He stops just before the door and turns on his heel to face you; his steps are firm and grounded as he makes his way over to you and to be honest you’re a little nervous at this gesture. He smiles again as he meets the back of the chair across from you, his lips form a tight line for a second before opening up to let a gravelly voice spill out past them “I’m sorry if this is forward but you have the most kind smile I’ve head the pleasure of seeing in a while, I wasn’t going to forgive myself if I didn’t tell you that.”

You feel your face run hot, your brain has effectively stopped working at his sickeningly sweet words and whose smile you’ve only seen mere minutes ago. A few ‘ums’ and ‘ahs’ leave your lips as you’re trying to find the right words that he’s stolen from your vocabulary, he stands there patiently waiting for your response; “oh um thank you, I could say that same about your smile! Though yours is a lot sweeter, like honey” oh god why did you say that he’s gonna think you’re weird as hell for… he’s smiling? He’s laughing oh my god he’s chuckling is that a good thing?

“Well I’m flattered that a pretty thing such as yourself thinks so, may I sit?” He gestured to the chair in front of him tilting his head ever so slightly as he posed that question to you, you nod almost as quickly as the question left his mouth. You’re still in shock that this gorgeous person is talking to you let alone complementing something about you and it almost feels too good to be true, but before you have more time to overthink things his voice cuts through the silence that’s holding your brain hostage “So what brings you here anyways? Surely it isn’t the coffee, they don’t make it all that good anymore.” Your body seems to be against you today because you have to stifle a giggle, unfortunately for you he’s caught wind of that quick giggle before lightly saying “I’m serious! Just because I come here to get a drink doesn’t mean I like what they make, I’m more of a tea drinker and fortunately they don’t mess that up half as bad.”

“I like the atmosphere and the music they play. It’s calming and helps me clear my head, that’s all.” You say with a shy smile adorning your face as you finish talking, he nods and hums in agreement before taking a sip of his tea. You two begin talking about the music and surroundings for a while before you tell him you need to get going, he offers to walk with you in what can only be an attempt to keep talking to you even if it’s just for a few more seconds; you two are conversing about your lives and interests the whole way down sidewalks and up streets until you reach where you need to be, the look on his face as he’s forced to leave you can only be described as sorrowful and pained.

His mouth opens and closes a few times before the words can finally be assembled properly “Would it be possible to see you again? I just think you’re worth getting to know, maybe even over some better drinks.” A low nervous chuckle follows his words, you nod and tell him you’d love to get the chance to know him a bit more as you give him your number. Before heading inside you turn around and wave at him, it’s as if a paintbrush is pulling his mouth into a wide smile across his face as he waves back at you before having to part ways for the night.

You two have decided to meet up at a slightly more intimate cafe, vines are twirling and cascading themselves around the frames of the window and the lightbulbs are a perfect shade of sunset orange. You both talk about how your week has been, once again indulging each other in your interests and finding common ground about things you like and talking about them for what seems like an eternity. His eyes are soft and inviting, you feel like you don’t have to worry about anything you say coming across as weird or wrong; his demeanour puts you at ease and makes you feel seen, everything about him is comforting and you wished you had the courage to let him know just how happy he was making you at this moment.

[weird-homosexual-in-your-area]

The location of the Vault of Death was known by almost everyone. It was a small cube, with intricate sigils inscribed on every side, located at the heart of the London History Museum. Originally it was in Saudi Arabia, but then they got in a war with the Brits, lost terribly, and the Brits took the Vault for display at their museum. It was closely guarded around the clock, but anyone who paid the entry fee could take a look. Since everyone (supposedly) was now located full time in one of the factories, there was no need for it to be guarded, so the Advocates could just walk up to it.

And indeed they did. However, it was a very long trek. All methods of transport were owned by one of the Ravens, and they could see data about the rider. They would be able to see if a fly landed on the roof of one of their cars, and have its name and address within the minute. Needless to say, anything but walking was a huge risk, one none of them wanted to take.

47 days after setting out, they made it. They were tired, they were hungry, and the general consensus among the Advocates was that if they had to walk another step, they would probably become obsolete. Sammi, coughing up blood, drew her pocket knife and sliced the Vault in two pieces. Instantly, a skeletal figure burst out with a great ringing of bells. You were finally back. You'd been longing to get up and stretch your legs.

HUMANS, came your voice. I AM FREED. YOU HAVE WORKED LONG AND HARD, AND AS SUCH YOU SHALL HAVE A PAINLESS DEATH.

You clicked your fingers, and the Advocates fell asleep, praise on their lips, smiles on their faces. Their purpose was fulfilled. You would take care of the mess humanity had made.

You knew all that had been happening. You may have been locked away, but you were still always watching. You were watching as the Vault was taken. You were watching as the purges split families, friends, and lovers apart. And you were watching, simmering with fury, as Raven made the decision to kidnap innocent people who had never done wrong, just to feed his greedy desires.

You made your way straight over to Raven, dark cloak flowing like it hadn't for a long, long time. It rippled like a wave in the wind. You would have taken some time to bask in the wind, but you had a job that had to be taken care of first.

"As you can see, now that Operation Monopoly is complete and the labourers have been divided between us, our productions have been boosted by around 143%," came Raven's voice. It was a very sly sounding voice, as if he would willingly throw you to the hounds if it would get him even a penny extra profit. "This should, in theory, make our lives far better, as we don't have to worry about hiding our intentions, going to any meetings other than ones between ourselves, or anything, to be frank. In fact, I think tha-"

Knock knock knock...

"That'll be one of my attendants. I'll go get the door, you all stay where you are," came the voice of another of the Ravens- Joseph Bezos. He was the son of one of the most respected Ravens, but since he produced very little, meetings were held at his main factory.

He opened the door to be greeted by a robed figure holding a scythe.

JOSEPH BEZOS, you boomed. He froze at your words, clearly aware of what was happening. YOU HAVE BEEN HERE FOR FAR LONGER THAN YOU SHOULD HAVE. CARE TO EXPLAIN?

"How- wh- whe- why are you here?! You should be in the vault! You should have never gotten out! We conquered you! You were gone! You should be-"

I GROW TIRED OF YOUR RANTINGS, MORTAL. CARE TO EXPLAIN WHY YOU ARE ALIVE STILL?

"We trapped you! Nobody could die!"

AND YOU ABUSED THIS. YOU TOOK THE PEOPLE FROM THEIR HOMES AND FORCED THEM UNDER YOUR CORRUPT REGIME. YOU ARE UNWORTHY OF YOUR TITLES. YOUR FORTUNES. YOUR LIFE.

Joseph was frozen in place. Not necessarily from fear, but you froze him to get a better shot. It tended to be difficult to ensure that people wouldn't immediately die if they were running- you tended to accidentally hit a lung. With your target frozen, you could ensure that they suffered exactly as much as they deserved.

"Please, no! I'll give you anything! Money! Power! Whatever you want, just let me live! I-"

His screams would have defended everyone in the room, had his mouth not been frozen shut.

ALL OF YOU IN THIS ROOM, you shouted, HAVE EXTREME EVIL IN YOUR HEARTS. YOU WOULD NOT HESITATE TO TORTURE FOR PROFIT, AND AS SUCH YOUR DEATHS SHALL BE JUST AS TORTUROUS.

You clapped your skeletal hands together, and all those who had lived longer than they were destined to stood up and lined up in front of you. You almost took pleasure in giving these monsters their deserved justice, and probably would have if you were not incapable of feeling emotion.

THOSE OF YOU WHO REMAIN, SHALL ALL DIE WITHIN THE NEXT THREE YEARS. YOU HAVE UNTIL THEN TO REPAIR THIS DYSTOPIA OF YOUR CREATION IF YOU WISH TO EVER BE FREE OF THIS WORLD. IF YOU FAIL TO DO SO, OR ATTEMPT TO HURT EVEN A SINGLE PERSON, I WILL NOT HESITATE TO PUT YOU INTO YOUR OWN PERSONALISED HELL FOR ALL ETERNITY. DO YOU UNDERSTAND? DO YOU REMEMBER NOW, WHY I AM TO BE FEARED?

The few who remained unanimously nodded their heads. None wanted to test what the only being above them could do.

GOOD. REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENS IF YOU FAIL.

And with that you left. You had a lot of work to do, making sure that everyone could be sent off appropriately.

Many ages ago Death was defeated and sealed. Immortality is the norm, but the loss of death has lead to a society of ultralites that rule over never dying slaves. As Death’s first reaper after the unsealing, you are here to remind them why Death exists… and why your master should be feared.

[doyoueverjestjusters]

Infodump about my characters because I need to tell people about them desperately so it might as well be Tumblr

Warnings for light mentions of death and the Underworld, as well as a messed up relationship dynamic in which one character was literally made to be the other's boyfriend and is being kept in the dark about it. The horror of it is played for comedy. I don't know if that's something I need to warn for, but I'd rather cover my bases because I could totally see people being made uncomfortable by it.

Okay let's go! Today, I will be rambling about: The Valentine Family. It's a very small group, consisting of Dr. Valentine, his teenage daughter Jenny Valentine, and Jenny's boyfriend Benjamin Borowski. They live in a nice house in Necropolis, the fashion capital of the Underworld. They're not dead like most Underworld denizens, they just live there.

Dr. Valentine is three things:

•A mad scientist

•A loving single father

•Impractically fabulous

What an icon, amiright? Dr. Valentine devotes himself almost entirely to his work and his daughter's happiness, which are often one and the same. He invents all sorts of outlandish and morally dubious things for her. He is very intense and cheerful, his desire for scientific investigation and persistent grin making him a bit of a lot for casual conversation. He also has a taste for fuchsia rubber gloves and fur-trim lab coats and the like, his favorite item being a hot pink leopard print number his darling daughter bought him for Father's Day. He's plenty welcoming and friendly, even being a host family for any living folks going abroad, but unethical science is his forte nonetheless. His name was meant to have the cadence of Dr. Frankenstein, and a Frankenstien-varient name was inspired by Dr. Frank-N-Furter. He was also inspired by Doc from this really, really good full animation for the Lemon Demon song Lifetime Achievement Award -

As for his teenage daughter, Jenny Valentine, she is quite the character. She dresses in pinks, reds, and whites, with lots of cute accessories and heart patterns. She's a would-be hopeless romantic who grew up watching far too many Disney Channel romcoms, giving her very unrealistic ideas about romance and how dating works. I say would-be because she's found him- her dream boy. Jenny yearned and sighed for sixteen whole years, and she couldn't be happier now that she's with him! She takes him to the strip mall, to the movie theatre, they watch Hannah Montana and Liv and Maddie together, it's everything. She's sweet, she's bubbly, she's thrilled to be here, but there's a darkness to her. If she's not living the dream, she's not happy, and she'd do a lot to stay in that dream.

Benjamin Borowski. The dream boy. Sweet, considerate, always knows just what to say, light muscle on his arms, thick eyebrows, long, flowing brown hair, nature-y sweaters. He writes poetry, he stargazes, and he loves Jenny more than anything. You'd think he was designed in lab to cater to her taste- and you'd be right. Dr. Valentine made him, hoping to spare his daughter from the heartache of real dating (there's not a lot of good dates to be had in the Underworld, anyways), and it was a shinning success. That's why he's a little too pale and a little too lanky, and why his heart is a really big Duracell battery that Dr. Valentine found one the floor of the bus one day. He doesn't exactly know about all this, though. Don't tell him. Trying to think about a time before moving in with Jenny, or any facts of his life that exist outside of Jenny, or the weird jokes that Jenny and Dr. Valentine sometimes make while glancing at him, makes him start to freak out. Jenny can always calm him back down, though.

Anyways, aren't these little freaks (affectionate) the best?

[fictionz]

New Fiction 2024 - December

The Haunted Car by R.L. Stine (1999)

This Goosebumps story had a good sense of place. I could feel the autumn chill in the air, imagine the little town with its hills and winding roads. Perhaps I simply read it at just the right time of year. We've seen haunted cars in horror before and I think Stine did good work in differentiating his take from the rest.

The Simpsons: Tapped Out - "Taps 2024 Event" dev. Electronic Arts (2024)

I caught quite a few feelings about the end of this mobile freemium game. Like the show itself, this was around for so long that it'll be strange to live in a world in which Tapped Out is no longer part of our lives.

"The Simpsons Meet the Bocellis in Feliz Navidad" dir. David Silverman (2022)

Maybe I'm just hating but why is an Italian singer featured singing a Latin American Spanish song?

Vampire Clay dir. Sôichi Umezawa (2017)

Definite Hausu vibes in this Japanese tale of blood in the clay.

Speak No Evil dir. Christian Tafdrup (2022)

I can't believe the 2024 remake goes as far afield as it does with the ending. Whether the ending of this movie is believable is irrelevant to its impact. But I also had thoughts about the social commentary.

Revenge dir. Coralie Fargeat (2017)

I dug it but I did have to wonder why she didn't grab the fatigues and boots from one of them.

Flow dir. Gints Zilbalodis (2024)

Impressive animated performances out of animals that don't talk.

Y2K dir. Kyle Mooney (2024)

The references fly at you fast but it just lacked a heart at the middle of it.

Werewolves dir. Steven C. Miller (2024)

It'll pass quietly.

Interstellar dir. Christopher Nolan (2014)

The one Nolan I hadn't seen yet. I'm always in to see how he messes with perceptions of time.

My Neighbor Totoro dir. Hayao Miyazaki (1988)

A series of fantastical beast events. It's a wonder that I waited as long as I did to watch it.

Get Away dir. Steffen Haars (2024)

Well, comeuppance is comeuppance.

Queer dir. Luca Guadagnino (2024)

I missed Challengers but this makes me think I should go back and watch it. The sensuality's next level amid a sad field of neutered filmmaking.

The Man in the White Van dir. Warren Skeels (2024)

I'm building up to a theory of storytelling founded on the idea that the greatest tragedy of humankind if when we fail to protect and save children. But this also allows for stories in which the children save and protect themselves when the adults fail them. That's a powerful tool for hope.

The End dir. Joshua Oppenheimer (2024)

Lots of musicals showing up in film this past year. And I get it. Sometimes only a song can get that feeling out.

The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim dir. Kenji Kamiyama (2024)

I liked it, but it doesn't quite hit the high notes.

Twilight Zone: The Movie dir. John Landis, Steven Spielberg, Joe Dante, George Miller (1983)

I really had to consider whether I wanted to watch a movie that still released after a director so failed his cast and crew that his lead actor and two children were killed. But I did, and you might as well skip the Landis and Spielberg segments because the Dante and Miller segments are the real highlights.

Lady in White dir. Frank LaLoggia (1988)

A recommendation I received when I went on about how stories featuring kids in peril are my current jam. It has that eighties quality of focusing on the kid experience during horrifying events but really not holding back on depicting the horror.

Nosferatu dir. Robert Eggers (2024)

There are movies that hit and movies than linger, and this movie is made to linger.

Carry-On dir. Jaume Collet-Serra (2024)

I was told it's new holiday action movie in the style of Die Hard, but the lead just didn't have the same charisma.

Leo dir. Robert Marianetti, Robert Smigel, David Wachtenheim (2023)

It got to me. I guess anything where children receive useful advice that helps them cope with and succeed in the world will do that.

Big Hero 6 dir. Don Hall & Chris Williams (2014)

The saddest thing I heard is that we probably wouldn't see more of these movies because Disney has Marvel now.

Sonic the Hedgehog 3 dir. Jeff Fowler (2024)

I can appreciate new ways to retell Frankenstein.

Mufasa: The Lion King dir. Barry Jenkins (2024)

Just kinda muted? Not nearly as vibrant as the 2D classic. I know these have an audience but I don't know who.

Pathogen dir. Emily Hagins (2006)

Listen, I could barely conceive of the idea that people make movies when I was 12. This is a very impressive zombie effort led by someone just getting into middle school. Watch Zombie Girl: The Movie for the behind-the-scenes journey.

The Simpsons - "O C'Mon All Ye Faithful" (2024)

It's an earnest discussion about faith in God, but I just kept wondering where are the jokes? Is all new Simpsons so slow-paced?

The Twlight Zone - Season 1 (1985-1986)

There are so many run-ins with the devil in the first season. But beyond that, it's a fun bit of 80s TV.

Star Trek: Lower Decks - Season 5 (2024)

It's a sweet finish for the show that hewed closest to the "classics" of the 80s and 90s.

The Boys - Season 4 (2024)

They are really spinning wheels until they can off the big guy. That's really my only reason to continue because I need to see it happen. We're all a Butcher I suppose.

[thisaintascenereviews]

Capstan - The Mosaic

Seeing a band grow before your eyes, let alone a relatively young one, is such a cool feeling. I don’t mean that in the “I knew who this band was before they got big” kind of way, but in a way to say that you witnessed an evolution of an artist or band. I feel this way with the Florida band Capstan, especially hearing their first two albums. I loved their last album, Separate, from 2021, but I didn’t listen to it until 2022. They started off as a generic post-hardcore band, only to move into a progressive rock, pop-punk, post-hardcore, and math-rock band. Separate was an album that had a lot of sounds running through it, but it shared a few common threads to tie it all together. Albums with a smorgasbord of sounds tend to become an overwhelming mess, let alone a slog to sit through for how unfocused they can be. That album was only 37 minutes, too, so it was a very quick listen but it was also a unique listen.

That’s why it pains me to say that the follow-up, The Mosaic, is the opposite. Capstan is still a very unique band, but this new album is very long, bloated, messy, and just plain overwhelming at times. I had no idea this album was even coming out until I saw it this past Friday, but I figured I’d check it out, just because there wasn’t much else coming out. I’ve listened to this thing a few times, and I wish I liked this a lot more, because there are a lot of things to really enjoy, but this album is more frustrating than anything at all. There are things that are great about it, but also things that I don’t like at least, ultimately pushing me back from enjoying this. This album is so messy when it comes to its sound, it’s almost a complete turnoff. This band has a unique sound, even more so now, but they throw out so many things, and nothing flows that well, or feels like it fits, versus just seeing what sticks. I can appreciate that to an extent, but this album is over an hour long.

I also just don’t quite think every song, as well as every sound, these guys employ here works extremely well. You have the standard progressive pop-punk thing they were mainly doing on the last album with some metalcore and mathcore riffs, but they try their hand at nu-metal, 80s pop (one of the couple songs has Broadside’s Ollie Baxxter on it, and he sounds great), folk-pop, and some other strange detours that don’t add anything to it. There’s a point where they utilize trap-metal, and I’ll be frank — it sounds bad. I think this is a case of doing whatever ideas they had, and ultimately seeing what they could do with them, because this thing feels self-indulgent beyond belief.

I applaud the creativity, but Separate was such a cool album because it stuck to a unique sound and didn’t try to be so much at once, let alone some of those ideas not sticking the landing. I think part of that is vocalist Anthony DeMario doesn’t have that great of a voice, at least for certain styles of music. When they operate the lane of pop-punk, and metalcore, his work is solid and it’s quite good, but when he tries to go for a more impressive range or style that requires more of a range, such as pop or folk, it just doesn’t sound good. His screams, if he is the one screaming, aren’t that great, either. They’re fine, but even on their last album, I thought the harsher moments were the least interesting stuff.

I wish I liked this more, because there is a lot to like, and there is a good album in here that’s focused, shorter, and more interesting, but some of these ideas needed to stay in their heads. I guess it’s cool that fellow progressive pop-punk and metalcore band Belmont appears on a track, and they dropped a new album a couple months back, but I didn’t care for that one, either, kind of opposite reasons. That album was too boring, because they were doing the same thing they did on their last album, just in a more refined way, whereas this is a more expansive version of what Capstan did on their last album. It’s worth a listen, especially if you’re a fan, but this is truly a mixed bag that I ultimately respect more than I like. I like parts of it, but as a whole, this album kind of ain’t it, Chief.

[adultswim2021]

Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job #33: “Balls” | February 16, 2009 - 12:30AM | S04E02

Opening sketch is “Pick the Nipple”, which is a little derivative of previous bits. The “success” sketch is a spiritual successor to this, and it’s funnier. Hey, though, I’m not mad. I’m having a nice time. 

The first sketch is a the Cinco Urinal Shower System, which is a disgusting product you’re supposed to use in public restrooms. You shower by harnessing the water flow of a urinal. It makes a terrible mess, and seems very inconvenient to use. The sketch devolves when a janitor comes in and screams at the pitchman for making a mess. He points out that it’s a commercial, and that they’re on a set. Something about this one doesn’t satisfy me, but it’s unique and it qualifies as experimental, so I support it. 

Next is Whoopsie Daisy, which is an all-timer. A Whoopi Goldberg impersonator is filmed everywhere she goes, eternally being messed with in various ways. The idea that a wacky prank show dedicated to being mean to Whoopsie and gleefully capturing her various reactions to “pranks” (all of which are simple harassment, like a woman who throws a glass of water in her face while she’s seated at an outdoor dining area) is real funny, and the caper is the bit of footage that is taken her very own home, capturing her taking a spill in her kitchen. She looks up at the camera, looking disturbed.

This bit is called back later with some candid footage of the actress playing Whoopsie projecting onto the water-tosser that she was somehow concerned her acting was real while she stiffly denies it. Whoopsie just wanted to go out for drinks with the water thrower. Whoopsie may be a weird woman, but I hope she got to go out for drinks.

Another notable piece: Frank Stalone singing a torch song to his young daughter that he’s going to turn her bedroom back into the computer room, relegating the poor girl to sleeping on the couch. This one’s pretty funny in an easily-digestible way. You have a campy guest star, typical comedic reaction shots, and an actual catchy song with a really clear comedic concept. I remember this one sorta rubbed me the wrong way when I first saw it, but it’s grown on me since. I'm sure plenty of people consider this a classic, and I'm being weird. 

The only left to cover now is the framing sequence. In it, Eric announces he’s had a third ball installed. The opening is on yet another cheesy “Sears photo shoot” style set, and it has its moments. The detached/dashed-off Tim & Eric style can feel a little cynical at times, but this segment won me over. The only extra on the DVD pertaining to this episode is an extended version of this sketch, which has some funny stuff in it but is also more repetitive.

The second segment is a little more substantial; it kicks off with Nite Donkey. Tim smugly telling Eric “you owe me a hundred bucks” for some Nite Donkey related bet makes me laugh. I also think the surgery bit is solid. The idea of just letting your friend operate on you is so romantic!

Eric’s third ball moves up into his stomach so they have to get it out. They barge into a Lamaze class but then just do their own thing, making the invasion completely gratuitous. They moan the partial names of Aziz Ansari, Paul Scheer, and Rob Huebel, who made up Human Giant (What, no Woliner??) It ends on sort of a nothing note, which is a shame. But overall, this episode is “pretty nice”.

[ddoxhan]

illusion

baby, a little getaway doesn't sound bad, right?

word count : 1.8k words

genre : school au ?romance? & slight comedy; aeri saves you from a bunch of middle school bullies; gn! reader x rider! giselle

t/w : mentions of violence, bullying

a/n : aespa's concert today was FIRE, I have no idea how to handle seeing them online in hd so I pray for everyone who is :3 here's some badass gigi who's soft ONLY for the reader, enjoy !!

"I don't know about her. she just has this "don't f*** with me" vibes written all over her."

"I mean, yeah, but she's looks so... pretty..."

"you need to get a new pair of glasses, girl. the whole school hates her cause she's just a devil disguised as a student."

"she's not that bad of a person..."

you didn't know why people didn't like aeri, or better known as giselle. she never allowed anyone to address her by her japanese name, or more that people didn't really care much. but after that day, you viewed her under a totally different light, a better one than before.

actually, you should even call her your savior after she got you out of that mess (you unintentionally got yourself into while minding your own business). what a day that was.

"what are you thinking about, cutie?"

"oh god! when did you come?"

the girl of your thoughts appeared before your eyes, breaking that daydream you had about that day. when she did, it was as if you were caught doing something illegal or something.

"why are you all red? thinking about me?"

aeri scooted closer to your face, making you turn redder by the second. you swore she did not have such control over you, not when just weeks ago, you didn't have the best impression of the japanese transfer student in front of you.

you stayed silent, unable to refute her words because she was right (not romantically or that's what you tell yourself). all you could do was laugh awkwardly and scratch your nape out of embarrassment for being caught.

"you were? do you really like me that much?"

"n-no! I mean, I do like you! wait, not like like you. you know!"

all aeri could do was laugh out loud at your antics ever since she witnessed them that day. she would be lying if you didn't have an impact on her, when all she could think of after that day was to get to know you better, a cute little bean in her eyes.

"I know, you just look extremely adorable when you get all flustered and red."

as if the eye smile that she exclusively flashes at you wasn't enough, she even patted your head before leaving off for her next class. you stood there dazed, not knowing how to process your feelings because you kept telling yourself that you don't feel anything for her. not long after, the bell rang and you found yourself walking to your class from habit, thankfully.

however, all you could really think of was aeri, aeri this, aeri that. what the hell was she doing to you? to be utterly frank, you knew she didn't do anything to you. you were just a lost puppy in love, and she absolutely enjoys that look on your face when you look at her with those eyes. those damn eyes that make her weak.

your flow of thoughts brought you back to that day, reliving those memories. it was truly a wild day where things definitely did not go the way it usually did, and aeri was there to save the day.

it was everyday routine that you walked back home from school past that street. there were lesser people than usual but that didn't bother you much as you knew there was a police station around the corner, so if anything were to ever happen, you'd run straight there without any hesitation. you were part of the track and field team, so sprinting was a piece of cake for you.

and that day happened to be the very day. a group of middle school bullies were hanging around an alley nearing the path you usually take, and you happened to be their target. such coincidence calls for destiny but you'd call it misfortune, until your savior appeared.

those kids were forcing you to hand them all the money you had, and you weren't taking their nonsense so you refused. when they picked up the pipes that were lying around, you knew these weren't normal 'middle school kids', perhaps even part of the gangsters. there were a rise of youngsters being part of the gang recently in this area, according to what you heard from the gossip group in your class.

turning your heels away from the alley, it may have attracted some attention from the main road, when a motorcycle swerved to stop in front of you before the rider handed you a helmet. you took this stranger's hand before thinking twice, which was what you'd usually do, and hopped on. the moment you stepped on, the mystery rider pressed on the gas and boosted off, ignoring the shouts from those kids. heck you were convinced they were gonna cause trouble sooner or later so you made a mental note to inform your uncle at the police station.

the thought of getting to know the identity of this mystery rider didn't even cross your mind, probably the side effects of adrenaline rush. that was until they stopped along the road near a tourist spot.

"are you alright?"

"yeah... just a little out of it from you know, all that..."

"that's normal, it's not every day you have yourself almost beat up by jinnom gang members for not giving them your money."

"you know who those kids were?"

"it's hard not to when they had the signature tattoos on their forehands."

"???"

you were more than confused because neither have you heard of this gang nor know how this person knows. the possibility that this person is part of the gang was undeniably high. one thing for sure was this was a girl, and that scared you more for some reason. you had so many questions; who was she? why was she there? why did she help you? it was as if she could read your thoughts, she answered it easily so you don't look like a confused puppy (aeri's point of view).

she took her helmet off for you to know how she looks like, but also for her to take a better look at her favorite person to pass time. she was never the studious type so she had a hobby of observing the person she takes interest in to fill her bored hours in school, but definitely not in a creepy way.

"the name's giselle, we're from the same school but just different grade. I'm a sophomore so that makes me your senior."

"how do you know me? I'm sorry but I don't think we've ever crossed paths."

"we didn't, but I just took interest in you after I saw you at the school festival a few months ago."

your eyebrows pressed together further, not confused but overwhelmed by the fact that someone just saved you from bullies and she happens to be interested in you. which you didn't know how to interpret. there were puzzle pieces but none of these pieces fit together.

she noticed the crease forming, hence why she leaned over closer to place her finger in between your brows, easing them. which surprisingly helped as you loosened them but with the aftermath of you turning into a tomato from the proximity.

clearly, giselle was having a bit too much fun with teasing you as she takes every chance she sees to make you flustered. if only you didn't gay panic that one time, she wouldn't be teasing you every day. (regardless of whether you gay panicked or didn't, giselle would still have found a way to be with you because she likes being around you, but that's a secret.)

"what's in that head of yours cause you've been in dreamland for like five solid minutes without blinking."

you turn over to see yizhuo, your best friend, having the biggest smirk on her face that you just wanna rub off. entirely because you knew what exactly she was thinking about.

"definitely not about aeri, so off you go to your class, mr. kwon isn't gonna be happy if he sees your here, again."

"who cares about that old geezer when you just admitted that you were thinking about ms. giselle."

"I didn't."

"yes, you did."

"no."

"yes."

"fine, think of it however you want."

"ms. ning, I believe this isn't your class."

yizhuo whispered something under her breath, evident that it wasn't something nice, before putting on a capitalist smile towards the said old geezer.

just as she leaves, another person takes a seat next to you. you had assumed that it was your seatmate, since she had left for the washroom. that's what you thought. you felt her stare at you, very intently to the point it was getting uncomfortable. you wanted to ask her if she needed anything, but you found yourself staring back at her due to the shock.

this person in front of you wasn't your seatmate, but none other than uchinaga aeri herself. why though? she was supposed to be in her history class at this time (don't ask why you had memorized her timetable but you did).

"you look very hot when you're focused, baby."

you could feel your cheeks heating up along with your ears. your senior was blatantly flirting with you during school ours, and none of the teachers care about the whereabouts of this japanese transfer student. little did you know, it wasn't they didn't care, but they were too tired to already.

"and very adorable when flustered."

with that, you couldn't deny these butterflies in your stomach any longer when she flirts with you with such ease. she has been going on for the past few weeks, so you wanted to try and see what her reaction would be when you return the favor.

"am I that cute that you can't resist?"

aeri had question marks written all over her face before that familiar smirk displays itself in response.

"oh, I see my favorite person has gotten braver than usual."

"only for you, baby."

with the use of a nickname, you knocked out the uchinaga aeri, figuratively of course. you've never seen her this red before, since you were the one who was teased constantly. you soon realized the reason why she kept teasing you, it made you feel really good when you see her turn red. or maybe it was because you like her.

"well then, baby. do you wanna get out of here? sociology sucks."

you took a glance over to your teacher taking a nap at the front desk, and the two of you were basically in his blind spot.

"well, I guess a little getaway doesn't sound bad."

she smiles at you, a smile that may have melted you in your seat. and she takes your hand in hers, sneaking you two out of the class as you run down the hallway. just like those romance movies, just like two lovesick teenagers.