#id probably tear up too

[justanotherfanfolks]

I find it funny that in the platinum jacket cards so far, everyone’s face looks like this:

And then there's Rook.

[itsalwaysdark]

how it feels to randomly get rly overwhelmed and frustrated and bitchy and feel like youre going insane

[todayisafridaynight]

Prior to sending the ask I was just guessing what matrophobia meant based on the root words but I looked it up after and went ohhhh and then you confirmed that extra dimension to it and I went OHHHHH

I think that gets to the heart of what I've been thinking about, that bittersweetness, because despite his best efforts... of course he could never end up anything like Yoko, but he still ended up with an abusive "household." Because in addition to Masato ending up how he did, he has to see those same situations play out, feel that same tension in the air between Jo and Ichi, over and over for almost a decade straight.

Like, in a way, he's forced to put himself in Toshio's shoes when that happens. He can't really get through to Jo, in the same way Toshio can't get through to Yoko, but he can try to step in before lasting damage is done, and he can try to make it bearable for his son. You know. Have a nice talk. Treat him to Peking duck. I'm SO normal about the (drawn-out) parallels of those scenes

So then with Jo... he kind of does become his father, even if he never wanted to (no one wants to), both through his ruinous neglect of Masato at birth and through how he comes to look at discipline and corporal punishment. I'm sure it's not lost on him in Masato's case (owww), but with Ichi, it's not like he has any reason to see him as his son... But How Far Can That Take You.

Because it's like, at the start, he was openly beating Ichi in front of Arakawa and not letting up much when Arakawa intervened. But then you have The Yubitsume Scene and Arakawa walking in on All That and... he looks sorry. Sorry for being caught, probably, but sorry nonetheless. Like... what changed between then and now... have you two had a Heartfelt Conversation... do you know where Arakawa got that scar... are you unable to change your "nature" even then...

Side note bro your SHOE is the size of his TORSO I promise you do not need to kick him with all the strength you've got like what the hell is this 😭😭😭

BUT ALL THAT ASIDE thank you so much for delving into the symbolism! Wonderful read. I don't really have an eye for symbolism, so that makes it all the more enjoyable to revisit the comic and everything with what you've gone into. I think a lot of your experiences resonate with mine, so conversely I'm not sure what others would take away from it, BUT I think there's enough there that's so insightful and evocative that it's effective without personal experience. I don't think there's anything I could add, so. Yeah. For once I am happy to sit back and take it all in... On that note, definitely looking forward to your next comic!

AUUUGH YEAAAH YEAHEYA HYEAH THAT EXACTLY OUUUGH OWIEE OWW.....

that's literally it though. like no extra notes. except The Obligatory Few i dont think it was an accident that arakawa is set up as the beginning of the game's 'protagonist' and planting that 'troubled family' taste first thing in our mind. i remember how i felt when i first saw arakawa walk in on jo and ichi and then arakawa taking ichi out for dinner i was just like🧍‍♂️Girl No The Cycle.... It's Continuing...... //screams// LIKE UGH IT WAS SO GOOD BUT ALSO OWWW STOPPP and then on the REPLAY it just hurts more cause with the added context to jo's character its like Oh No...... You're Your Father's Son....

and youre right: jo doesn't have an implicit reason to see how he treats ichi is wrong, hence he similarly doesnt have any reason to stop- not unless arakawa intervenes of course (and i will stand outside my window thinking of the possibility arakawa ever did try to have A Conversation with jo... arms folded behind my back and all like Man™️....)

oh but yeah, absolutely no problem ! im lowkey of an egotist so i do like to talk bout the stuff i make. More In Depth (though thats obvious considering the fuckin essays in the tags i always leave ☠️☠️) gerjlgaELKjg. so i was happy to explain ♪(´▽｀) !! what i like about symbolism is that it can be intentional or not, and the fun is always finding it just by chance. i cant explain it properly, but i just think its a neat 'seasoning' of sorts to drawings (❁´◡`❁)

[welcometoteyvat]

now that kazuha is implied to be playing tcg all we need is albedo’s card (or scaramouche’s, if you like him better) for the five kasen to host semi frequent card games with each other

[the-amber-droid-dreams]

[ID: A priest in a confession booth looking shocked]

[girlivealwaysbean]

dni.

[nanaslutt]

roommates!gojo & geto jerking each other off while thinking abt their cute neighbor they both want soooo bad

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ ࿔

“do it harder.” geto groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he laid back against satoru’s pillows. said man currently had his hand wrapped around his cock, albeit poorly. his hand was soft as fuck, but he was touching him like he had never touched a dick before. “jerk me off how you jerk yourself off.”

gojo snorted, his words breathy as he spoke, “what if i like it soft?” geto shook his head and curled his toes when gojo wrapped his hand around him tighter. “these walls are thin, i’ve heard you having sex and i know you don’t like it soft. those poor girls.”

gojo laughed, “they love it, i think she would love it too.” he said. geto licked his lips, starting to paint an image in his head. “what would you do to her?” he asked tentatively, his eyebrows furrowing together when gojo focused on his cock head like the bastard he was.

“mmm i think id start with fingering her.” gojo said. “i’ve seen her a couple times in the laundry room bend over in those tiny shorts—you know the ones. and her-“ he stopped talking to groan when geto stroked over a particularly sensitive vein. “they don’t cover much.”

geto nodded, seeing you bent over in his head. “you think she’s sensitive?” geto asked, cracking his eyes open to peek at gojo. his eyes were lidded and focused on the hand around his cock. geto tried not to shy away when he felt his pre cum drip into his hand. he’d never jerked anyone off before—besides himself.

“oh yeah,” gojo responded, biting his plush lip. for some reason it made geto’s mouth water. “i think… fuck, i think i could make her squirt with just my fingers.” gojo’s face was getting flushed now. it made geto want to tease him. “yeah?” he asked, squeezing his hand tighter around his shaft and relishing in his reaction when he sucked in a breath through his teeth and arched his back. “would you make her squirt all over our couch?”

gojo moaned at his filthy words and nodded, his head tipping back against the headboard. “yeah.” geto nodded, looking at his roommate even though his eyes were closed. “what would you do if i walked in when you were making her cum?” he asked, paying attention to the head of his cock.

“i-id let you suck my fingers clean.” he groaned, making geto’s balls throb at the visual. “god, she’d probably get so hot… trying to press her thighs together watching me suck your fingers.” gojo nodded, his mouth falling open in a small O.

“would you want her pussy or her ass?” geto asked, his breath coming more quickly. “ass, i know it’s so tight and warm. god. would you want her at the same time?” geto nodded despite him being unable to see. “yeah, just think about how good she would look with tears down her face trying to take us both.”

suddenly, a hand way being wrapped around his wrist. geto opened his eyes fully and watched with rapt attention as gojo cursed before his back arched. he continued stroking him, despite knowing what was gonna happen. he cringed when hot ropes of cum spilled from his dick, coating his hand and his cock and making a lewd sound from the stroking.

gojo gripped geto’s wrist to stop him, and geto pulled it away and made a face at the mess on his hand. gojo also had stopped jerking him off, just weakly holding his throbbing cock. “that did it for you huh?” he teased. gojo laughed before removing his hand from geto’s cock.

gojo crawled off the edge of the bed and bent down to grab a towel to wipe his cock clean with. geto gripped his cock and languidly started stroking, waiting for gojo to help him get off. “your turn, one minute man. come keep this fantasy going so i can blow all over your hand and pretend it’s hers.”

a cruel smile twisted on gojo’s face before he dropped the towel and zipped his pants back up. “i’m sure you can finish yourself off.” getos mouth opened in disbelief. “if you need some help, i have porn from last night still up on my laptop, feel free to check it out. it’s really good stuff.” with a wink, he left geto gaping and alone in HIS room with his stiff cock in his hand.

fucking biiiitch.

[soupis4ever]

the propagules are settling well i think. ive been keeping them with John as much as possible because i know that they probably don't have much time left and im too sad about it to separate them now. but the propagules do have names. the taller one with the bracelet around it is Chorus and the shorter one in the ceramic pot is Burdock

[usedpidemo]

Savior (aespa Karina)

“Someone help me. Please!”

“Scream as loud as you can, no one’s coming to save you, princess.”

“That’s right. So just be a good girl and give us your money.”

“Help!”

It’s at this point where, against your better judgment, you stop dead in your tracks. The damsel in distress’s right behind you, backed into a corner by two bullies. Her possessions are strewn all over the floor, purposefully kicked out of her reach. There hasn’t been much physical harm done to the girl, but she looks to be the delicate type—someone who’s bound to crumble and break after a few hits.

Looking over your shoulder, the two students spot you and turn their attention against you immediately, recognizing you as a threat. “Hey,” says the first student, stepping forward to intimidate you with his burly physique. “This has nothing to do with you. Run along if you don’t want to join this loser over here.”

“Yeah. Don’t go around acting tough just cause you got two other guys with you. Just keep it pushing,” says the second thug, lankier in figure, in agreement with his partner.

Standing your ground, you steel your resolve, having no intention to run. In fact, it’s the complete opposite: you’re down for a fight. Your two companions also follow suit.

“So you wanna be a hero? You’re gonna regret it,” the first bully says, cracking his fists, ready to swing. “Oh, you’re so gonna regret it!”

That is to say, he’s the one who’s about to regret his life choices.

Like a raging bull, the thug lunges toward you, only for you to swiftly kick his legs from underneath, sending him flying across the hallway before he violently lands head first on the ground, most certainly giving him a concussion. He’s done.

The second bully tries to throw a follow-up punch, but you stop its momentum with one hand. Twisting it sideways, the bones crack loud, immediately followed by a screech of pain from his lungs. He drops to the floor in agony, holding his bent knuckle with his healthy arm.

“Oh—oh God—oh fuck—fuck—” Tears flowing from his eyes, he grovels in extreme discomfort, unable to stand before you. “What are you—”

“Now run,” you order, and he promptly complies, hopping off the ground, then fleeing in the opposite direction.

All that’s left is the girl. She had been watching the entire time. She’s overjoyed.

“Y-you saved me,” she says, tone relieved and her spirits held high. “How can I thank you—”

“Don’t push it,” you tell her, already walking away with your companions, waving her off. You don’t help her as she gathers her belongings. “Don’t get yourself in danger next time.”

Part of you already has second thoughts saving this girl. Jimin, the name written on her ID, is undeniably pretty, but you have nothing to gain from this encounter—or from her. She’s only studying in this university on a scholarship, and it shows in her appearance: she’s not the cleanest, nor is as well dressed as everyone else on campus. At best, you’ll probably get called into the office regarding this incident, as well as getting another target placed on your back by those bullies.

None of which are worth a drop of your concern. You can study anywhere else; you have the resources and the connections courtesy of your rich family, and the two companions by your side are your trusted bodyguards that have been with you since childhood. You can honestly live out your whole life without even lifting a finger. Generational wealth is the ultimate lifehack.

And yet, you’re in college at the behest of your parents, who spend more time abroad than at home. This is you going through the motions, looking after yourself.

After the next class, right as everyone’s packing their things and exiting, you spot her again. Jimin’s natural beauty is a lovely sight for the eyes. It’s only now do you realize you’ve shared at least one class with her. Maybe more; you’re too oblivious to the world around you to really notice. You only care about the bell that rings at the top of the hour so you can finally go home.

“Hey,” Jimin suddenly calls out to you, having noticed you glancing at her every now and then. You attempt to feign ignorance, but she approaches you and seizes your hand, catching you red-handed. “Can I speak to you, please?”

She sounds too nice to turn away. You’d be in the wrong to ignore her.

Still, you won’t fully look at her, the glint in her eyes blinding. You can only pray this is a brief exchange. “Sure. But make it quick.”

“I just want to say thank you—for earlier,” she says, her voice warm and sincere. She’s shaking your hand in appreciation; you allow her. “I’m not as rich as everyone else here, as you can see.” She looks down at her modest wear, apologetic about her appearance for some reason, “So—I don’t really have much. I’m only here on a scholarship—”

“Right.” You interrupt her, trying your hardest not to sound annoyed or bothered, though some of that impatience permeates through your filter. “Anything else you wanna say?”

Jimin becomes flustered, seemingly aroused by your low voice. A brief glance reveals her cheeks flushed red, her body trembling anxiously. She can’t have her way with words, either. “S-sorry. I just wanna say if you need help with schoolwork or anything, my services are available! My grades are good, I promise! That’s all. Again, thanks and see you around!”

Before you can even say a word or call her name, she already has one foot out the door, along with her belongings.

—————

One look at the student database proves her point: Yu Jimin, nickname Karina, might be what she advertised: an academic genius.

Her grades are mostly in the mid nineties across the board, if not low nineties. She’s only a year away from graduating—alongside you. The offer lingers on your mind, positively tempting.

“Sir, this just seems like a waste of money,” your one bodyguard turned hacker tells you, swiveling his desk chair around to face you. “There are more reputable tutors with better qualifications we can fly in from across the country if you really need a personal tutor. Also, your grades are good as they are. You don’t seem to be struggling with any specific major or subject right now. There’s no reason for this.”

“Yeah, and whose money are we spending?” you reply, annoyed at his admittedly sensible comment. 

“What will your family say about this?”

“Did I ask to be enrolled in this university? This course? Besides, they’ve never shown up for any of my graduations! I doubt this will be any different in a year or so. Go find her number so I can contact her.”

Sighing in defeat, he eventually acquiesces. They have to. “Of course, sir.”

—————

The next day on campus, Karina’s seated at the dining hall with her friends. Her eyes can only focus on one thing, or in this case, one man: the person that saved her yesterday. 

“You’re serious? Him?” Ningning looks concerned about her friend. She’s glaring at him with plenty of skepticism. They all know who he is. Not Karina, though. “That guy’s no good at all.”

“What are you saying?” she looks at her, puzzled at her comment. “He really did save me from those bullies. Don’t you believe me?”

“Yeah, but like—he’s not a good person!” Giselle frowns at the man, hiding the bottom half of her face behind her hands. “He’s a chaebol kid. He’s seriously no good! I’ve heard he gets into fights often; that's why he has bodyguards to intimidate anyone who tries to oppose him.”

“Rumor says he’s in cahoots with some crime syndicate—or at least his dad is,” Minjeong interjects, more trepid than anything. “That’s how he got his money. Who knows what kind of evil they might be doing!”

“But he was nice to me yesterday! If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t have tried to save me, you know?” Karina stubbornly pays no heed, insisting her case to them, despite their growing frustration and fright. “You guys are overthinking this way too much.”

“It’s just so he can gaslight you into believing he’s a good guy. Please, Karina, he’s not what you think he is.” Ningning implores for her to listen, but to no avail.

“We’re not saying he’s truly bad, but there are signs,” Minjeong adds, agreeing with Ningning. “We just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Look—if he’s actually a bad guy, I’m running, all right? I’m ditching him right then and there, no questions asked.” Karina reassures them, hoping to calm them down right as the man approaches their table. “He’s coming right now.”

While the others silently avoid any form of contact or communication with you, hiding their not so subtle disdain, she happily waves. “Hi. Did you think about it?”

“Yeah,” you tell her, nodding. “I’m interested.”

“Really?” Karina’s eyes gleam at the opportunity. “What do you need help with?”

“Lots. I’ll tell you after class.” Knowing her friends are evidently uncomfortable with your presence, you simply walk past her and through the cafeteria door. “See you around.”

“Bye!” she waves at you again, delighted that you’ve taken up on her offer.

When it’s clear that you’re no longer in sight, Karina’s friends turn to her in utter disbelief.

“Please tell me you’re not going to—”

“I will.”

“Oh, God dammit.”

“Karina, please.”

—————

Later that day, Karina’s waiting by the campus parking lot, holding on to the promise of you showing up. It’s been almost an hour since classes ended and there’s no sign of you anywhere nearby. It looks like you’ll leave her out to dry, until—

“Miss Karina.” A man calls out to her from inside a luxurious car. As the windows roll down, she recognizes the driver as one of your companions. One of the rear doors automatically swings open. “Please step inside.”

Without a second thought, she enters the vehicle before it drives away.  

During the ride, the bodyguard asks her a question. “Does Miss Yu have a drink preference?”

She’s slowly taking it all in, flustered at how you’re treating her so generously. It’s overwhelming at times. “N-no. I’m not really a drinker. W-where’s—”

“He has already gone ahead. He’s preparing the house ahead of your arrival. When we get there, you will change clothes before meeting him. At his request, I have been assigned as your personal assistant and driver.”

“Y-you? Assistant?” She can hardly believe it. “Wow…”

Karina is rendered speechless for the rest of the ride. She’s taken aback at her sudden change in predicament. It’s a Cinderella story through and through. The only missing element is some antagonistic force threatening to end this fantasy abruptly, but that’s the least of her worries. What’s more concerning is how she’ll compose herself before you.

Especially when she sees the scale of your house upon arriving. She’s never seen wealth this exceedingly open and grand.

There’s no time to admire the opulence, however. She’s brought inside hastily by your bodyguard. Inside, a team of stylists are waiting, rushing her upstairs and into one of the bedrooms for a complete overhaul. They’re careful to measure her hair, her size, her everything. Everything is done on the spot, with next to nothing in terms of personal input from Karina herself.

—————

You hear it. The gentle, careful steps of heels clicking. Karina’s ready. So are you.

Turning around to welcome her, you’ve got this whole speech practiced and memorized, with a card hidden in your pocket for good measure. Instead, you end up tongue tied; her presence proves overwhelming to the senses. You can only stare in awe. All black dress and matching heels aside, she looks like an angel descended from heaven. Without blemish, without any sort of imperfection. She’s unreal. 

Any less of a person you are and you would have fallen to your knees on the spot, groveling on the ground when Karina walks forward, ignoring how nervous she is as you. She modestly smiles, carefully twiddling her fingers. She doesn’t recognize how pretty she is.

It becomes all the more embarrassing when Karina makes the first move. “I knew you were rich, but not this rich.” Her eyes are glancing around the expansive room, admiring all the little details, thankfully dismissing how speechless you are.

“Mhm,” is all you’re able to blurt out, unsure of what to say. In her sight, you’re her hero, her knight in shining armor that can seemingly do no wrong. Meanwhile, you’re overcompensating your lack of social skills by hiding behind a shallow enigma and as much vanity as possible. “Not exactly my money, to be fair. My parents raised me like this.”

You’re trying not to look anywhere in her direction—whether that be her pretty eyes, her warm smile, or her shapely figure in that body-hugging dress. It’s the only way you can function normally without completely falling apart.

“So—you’re gonna introduce me to them?” she asks, her tone saccharine and innocent. 

“I wish,” you reply, sighing wistfully thinking about their absence throughout most of your formative years. She’s unaware; you’ll let the insensitive question slide. Only for her. So you immediately change the topic. “Let’s go outside. Our dinner is waiting for us.”

You reach out your hand to her, and she takes it without hesitation. In your mind, you’re already jumping around, performing cartwheels in celebration, with fireworks blasting everywhere. For the most part, you’ve been punching up, failing to impress girls unimpressed with your wealth and are far beyond your reach. Everyone else in that campus would kill to be in Karina’s position right now, but something about her caught your eye that no one has. 

The purity in this girl’s heart is something else. 

Outside, a table full of hearty food is set before you two, a candle lit at its center. Sitting her down on one end before joining her at the other, it’s only background dressing for conversation. She refuses to eat, struggling to make sense of all this. The appeal behind all this luxury is wearing off at an alarming rate.

“What’s up? Not hungry?” you gently ask, already making predictions of her answer. Your designated assistant for her is on standby for anything she wants.

“Not really,” she says, her eyes staring back, wide, accompanied with her innocuous smile. A direct attack on your heart. “I’m—here for tutoring first. I don’t know what this is all for.”

“Yeah. You are here to help me,” you tell her, your mind racing with a hundred different thoughts, already in a state of panic. “I’m just—” you swallow a sudden lump in your throat, “welcoming you since it’s your first time visiting.”

“Like, I think this is really cool! I appreciate what you’re doing, but I can’t afford any of this.” Karina’s trying not to put any more pressure on you, but it’s really doing the exact opposite: you’re already seeing signs of a terrible end. “I just thought you were nice because you saved me from those bullies, you know? That’s it.”

“Yeah. I know,” you reply, looking down as the awkward air between you grows larger and larger. See, she has a point: it was never about asking for help, nor was it ever about improving your grades. It was always about her. Something changed overnight. You simply don’t know how to directly convey those feelings. 

“So—let’s just keep things between us simple,” Karina proposes. She rises from her seat, walking over with a hand on your shoulder. “I’m here to help you with whatever project, research, whatever—you only have to pay for my services. Is that good enough?”

“Wait. Karina let me ask one thing,” you say, finally mustering the courage to look her directly in the eye. 

“What is it?”

“Your friends,” you rapidly blink, “What did they say about me?”

“I’m not supposed to tell you that.” Her answer is delivered bluntly, straight to the point.

“They think I’m a bad guy, right?”

“N-no,” Karina stammers. That’s where you catch her. “They never said anything like that—”

Suddenly dragging her by the arm down to your level, you whisper in her ear, “Don’t have to lie, princess. I’m not gonna tell anyone. It’s only between us. Promise.”

Karina’s unsure of what to do. She’s quietly keening, lightly sweating, looking around for an out. The points her friends made are starting to make sense, but there’s nothing substantial—not yet.

After taking a moment, she folds. “They think your dad’s working with a syndicate. That’s it! There’s nothing else—”

You lightly shove her away, immediately concealing your face in the opposite direction. You didn’t expect her to catch on quickly. Karina’s utterly shocked by what you just did to her, cupping her cheek.

Empathy overrides every other thought.

“Sorry. I just—” You immediately approach her with a handkerchief, immediately assessing the damages, what little they might be. Karina takes a step back, trembling with fear.

“So, it’s true after all.” Her eyes widen. Gone is that sweet innocence; taking its place is a heightened sense of panic. “You’re really a bad guy—”

“Wait, Karina.” You raise a delicate hand, your voice as calm and little as possible. “Please give me a moment to explain.”

“Go on,” she says, cautiously wary, readying herself to run at any given moment. “But say it quickly,”

Stretching your body out to pursue her, examining her every move, every muscle. It didn’t have to end up like this. Surely, there are safer, more inconsequential ways to explain yourself. What a first date you’ve gotten into.

“It’s—not exactly what you think,” you tell her. Out of all the things to begin your justification, you’ve picked the worst possible choice.

“Really?” Unsurprisingly, she doesn’t buy it. “What’s with the reaction, then?”

Hesitating, you’re scrambling to find a believable reason, only to find just one option: the truth. “I—well—your friends are right, but—my dad doesn’t have anything to do with criminals!”

“So it’s you who’s dealing with them?” she replies, her brows furrowing, glaring at you.

“It’s nothing really serious, though. And I’m not involved with anything either! Believe me, I’m not going to get you hurt!”

Throughout this tense exchange, you’ve both made your way back to the house, one big step at a time.

“Trust me when I say: the only reason why I helped you was because I didn’t want to see you hurt,” you continue, your voice cracking. “Goddamn it—this is why I shouldn’t have stepped in, fuck—”

“You did that because—” she pauses, “you cared about me? For real?”

“I guess so,” you say, nodding vehemently, both your hands still raised high starting to ache. “I don’t do that for anyone! My bodyguards tell me to ignore what’s happening, but I just can’t stand someone as pretty as you getting hurt like that.”

“Y-you think I’m pretty?” Karina blinks, coming out twinkling and doe-eyed at the sudden revelation.

Secret’s out. There’s nothing to hide anymore.

Pausing, you admit, nodding much less energetically, silently cursing yourself spilling your innermost thoughts so casually, “Well, yes. I think you’re beautiful. All the more now.”

Karina stops moving. Her wariness is turning back to more open and willing caution. “So—this was really all for me.”

You continue to nod, this time in agreement. She still has so many questions. About you, your family, your income, your secret dealings. Clearly, her friends are onto something, whether by luck or by some past experience; not a hundred percent, but at least five to ten. It would be rash and irrational to completely trust every word you’ve said. No amount of kindness can possibly make up for the worry you’ve given her—

“Come here,” she says, lunging forward to wrap you in a sudden, tight embrace. Before you can comprehend anything else, her lips are pressed deeply against yours, sealing your fate with a passionate kiss. 

That’s where it should have stopped. A better person would have pushed her away, taken things slowly, spoken her through the terms of engagement. Even Karina said it herself; this is a transactional relationship. But seeing as you’re taking lease of her back, as well as her waist, tasting her saccharine lips—it appears as if she’s reneged on her word. 

You feel her tongue slip between your mouth, humming these incomprehensible delightful sounds your ears want to hear. It isn’t accidental; the taste takes you by surprise. Can’t show a little weakness, even if you’re close to buckling under the rapid growing pressure. The way she pours herself into the kiss, how she pushes you closer inch by inch—you can tell she’s wanted this. To be treated like a princess, to be treated right. It doesn’t matter if it’s coming from the wrong influence, the only thing she sees is your willingness to take her with open arms.

The only thing pulling you away from her is the ceaseless ringing from a phone.

Karina pulls a phone from her skirt pocket, her eyes tilting down, fingers moving with urgency, furiously typing on the screen. Her cheeks burn a rosy red, ashamed of having to put herself first in this situation. She’s smiling innocently at you, a sight you’ve grown to love even more. You understand if she tells you she’s leaving; you’ve already got her ride home on standby.

“Sorry,” she mutters, pressing buttons, hearing the ringer beep as the message is sent. “I’m still living with my parents, so—” Looking around, she’s shaking her arms loose. “I don’t think I can spend the night here, or come home looking like this—”

“Don’t worry about it,” you cut her off, confident, if not a little smug. “Neither of those things are gonna happen. I’ll get your ride ready and your clothes taken care of. But it’s still a little bit early,” you say, glancing at your watch, grinning at the time. It’s barely past seven in the evening. 

“I told them I’d be home by around ten tonight,” she remarks, putting her phone away, her gaze returning to you.

“That’s all the time we need.”

—————

Like the gentleman she thinks you are, you escort Karina up the stairs, hand in tow, leading her to your bedroom. Once the door is slammed shut and tightly locked, you immediately drop the act, and you’re back to kissing her passionately again.

You can’t be any less patient. Only a few minutes have passed, and you’re already dreading the end. The feeling of letting her go, of having to go back to your normal life the moment she walks through that door. You can’t imagine interacting like normal students again. Most importantly, you can’t imagine being the bad guy in everyone else’s eyes.

Karina brings out both the best and worst impulses from you. Abruptly breaking the kiss, you shove her onto the mattress, issuing a simple command. “Take that dress off.”

It’s been the only thing racing through your mind ever since. This divine, angelic figure straight out of heaven—effortlessly shining, effortlessly wearing the simple piece like she’s meant to be a canvas to be painted and used.

Gracefully rising from the bed, Karina looks you dead in the eye. Taking one strap in her hand, she pulls it down her shoulder, then the other. Reaching around her back, gravity does the rest. The garment smoothly rides down her body, revealing inch after inch of her skin, until she’s reduced to only her panties. 

Kicking the expensive fabric aside, along with her heels, Karina’s near naked presence demands worship.

“Fuck,” is the only thing you’re able to say, and it’s apt—fuck is the only thing you want to do to her. Hard. Fast. Without care for comfort or concern. 

Your eyes have no fixed area to rest on. When it comes to Karina, every little part of her is a treat for the senses, whether it be her slim waist, her tummy, her slender legs. But nothing captures and retains the attention quicker than her well-endowed breasts. So huge, so pliable, you can only wonder in amazement at how she’s been able to keep them secret for the longest time.

“Something wrong?” Karina asks, snapping you from your mindless daze, her tiny voice a contrast to the sheer sexiness she’s radiating just by standing there in the nude. God, she’s so blissfully unaware that you’re oh so obviously focused on her tits only; it’s endearing and sweet.

“Nothing. You’re perfect, actually.” Try as you might, you can only linger on her chest, watching them stare back, inviting you to come closer. Her nipples are taut and rigid, ripe for the taking.

The comment makes her face blush brighter. “Thank you.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, your pants already halfway down, shedding them along with your boxers. You’re imagining how they would feel sandwiched between your cock; you can’t help it. You’re stroking yourself to hardness, made substantially easier thanks to the image before you. “Has anyone told you you have perfect tits, Karina?”

“I’ve heard it here and there,” she says, delivered so casually, like it’s something she hears everyday—as she rightfully should. “I guess people sometimes notice through my baggy clothing.”

Pumping your shaft till you’re fully erect, you rid yourself of the rest of your clothes. Button up shirt and coat thrown away carelessly and readily forgotten. Karina takes the hint and slips off her panties, putting you both on equal footing. Creeping toward her, you press your finger on her chin, nuzzling your forehead against hers, setting the mood with a quick peck of her lips. There’s so much you want to do, visualizing all the possibilities with a body like hers.

“I want to touch you,” you tell her, tone low, sultry. Your hand traces down her collarbones, pointing out where they want to be: on her chest. 

“Go. Anything you want, but promise me one thing,” she replies, mimicking your inflection. Any request sounds so much hotter in her voice.

There’s zero hesitation. “Anything.”

“Promise you’ll pour all that cum deep inside me. I’ve been in relationships before. Just—give me a good fucking.”

“I will,” you say, kissing her passionately on the lips, your hands firmly pressed on her tits, watching Karina’s eyes close and open in slow motion. Going down, you leave kisses on her neck, collarbones, before reaching your intended destination: her chest. Burying yourself between her breasts, clamping down on her rigid nipple, forcing a sharp cry out of Karina’s saccharine lips. “I love these fucking tits, Karina. I love them so—so—much.”

“Please.” She coos up to the ceiling, grabbing you by the hair, pressing you further into them, intending to suffocate you—which is a demise you’ll happily go out on. Gasping, panting, struggling to keep herself steady, you both collapse onto the bed, allowing you to fully drink in her breasts. Darting your tongue, sucking on her stiff tits, sloppily leaving wet marks on her otherwise porcelain skin. “So—fucking—needy—”

Karina’s right. You’ve got her pinned down on the sheets like she’s prey, devouring her like a hungry animal. Giving her tits equal attention, going back and forth til you’re satisfied—which will never happen. Not with breasts as delicious as hers. Muffled by her bosom, you can only grunt and groan in appreciation, forgoing your ability to speak to keep satiating your unquenchable need. You love how her skin folds, how they crush in your hands. Squeezing them like your personalized stress balls, making her squeamish and erratic underneath you.

Meanwhile, she can only stick her head out, keening and mewling helplessly as you drown yourself in the heat of her breasts, without care for her personal comfort or yours. 

It’s always been part of you—greed. It’s what you were raised on. How you selfishly desire something and will stop at nothing until it’s in your grasp, no matter how little it has in value or how many resources are wasted. Not Karina. She’s one in a million—a diamond in the rough. A treasure worth cherishing over everything else, and you’d give up everything for her without a second thought.

Kissing down her rather tiny figure, her tummy, until you reach the depths of her aching core, already in heat. Looking up at her, so wrecked, so utterly incapacitated, you sink further—and she cries out in pain and in pleasure.

Propping her thighs up in the air, spreading her legs that extra inch wider, Karina cries, cries, and cries. Your tongue sucks away at her sticky nectar, her quivering core, putting immense pressure on her most sensitive spots. Soaking up just how wet she becomes with each passing second, you’ll happily drown in her skin. You love how she clenches, how she throbs and moans a pitch higher with every pass, every lap of your tip against her pussy brings her ever closer to her end.

Had it been anyone else, you would have finished right there. Make them unwind and cum all over your face as you indulge yourself with their juices, then leave them out to dry right after. Instead, you muster up the willpower to restrain yourself, reemerging from the depths of her cunt, before kissing up the path you’ve marked along. You can never grow tired of admiring and worshipping Karina’s breasts. 

Brushing loose strands of hair aside to get a look at her pretty face, glowing brilliantly even under duress. Whispering against her ear, you tell her, “Gonna fuck you right now.”

“Do it,” she says, breathless, gasping—and heaving—for air. “Please give it all to me.”

“Always.”

Slowly dragging your cock between her folds, your usually stiff expression gradually disintegrates upon vicious entry, unable to endure how tight she feels. The pulse and flex of her walls pulls you apart in every direction, her cunt threatening to snap you with one wrong move. Every little bit of resolve counts. Your fingers intertwine with hers, holding her down in place, even though she’s nowhere close to fighting back. In fact, it’s the exact opposite; she wants to be taken and used.

The cry of your name escapes from Karina’s lips, delivered like a call for help. A plea. It bounces around the room, echoing repeatedly in your head, the imagery instantly seared into your brain. 

“You fill me so fucking well,” she says, breath hot and heavy, her jaw agape as you hover atop her head. Her eyes snap wide open, on the verge of tears, “Does my pussy feel good? Does it feel so tight around you?”

You’re struggling to keep yourself together, showing signs of falling apart. You’re breathing heavily, only nodding back in agreement. The inability to move your body, desiring to stay inside her warmth out of fear it’ll prematurely ruin the moment speaks volumes. It’s a clearer response than any word can ever answer. 

Karina lightly rolls her hips forward, the friction far too great to remain still. You can only draw back in painstakingly slow motion, as if pulling a piece out of a collapsible tower. Even so, the feeling leaves you dizzy and lightheaded, the suffocating sensation quickly overwhelming the rest of your functional senses.

This little push is more than enough to set you snowballing further down. Thrusting back inside her heat, her fresh wetness allows you an easier passage in and out of her quivering pussy. Between calculated, deep breaths, you watch Karina take every inch of your cock without any resistance, letting these profanities and praises slip from her lips instinctively, punctuated by the growing echo of your skin slapping skin.

It becomes effortless rather quickly. The slide in and out of her heat. The pace more than enough to let all the ecstasy sink in. How she immediately relinquishes any semblance of control to you. Karina’s glued to the bed by your hands, her body rocking with every stroke, her tits jiggling in a hypnotic rhythm that captures your eyes. So perfect. So right. 

Unknowingly, she’s driving you mad. A little bounce isn’t gonna satiate you at this point. One poorly timed blink and you’ll be punishing yourself for it. There’s no going back. You needed more of her. 

As the bed violently creaks below, so does Karina’s tiny figure. As quickly as you’ve found the perfect rhythm to pound her, you just as quickly abandon it. Something about her brings out the best and worst in you, and you clearly see why. It’s the bounce—that damned ripple of her breasts, swinging up and down forcing your hips harder against her, threatening to break her. Her words turn to loud cries—of pleasure, of pain, and everything else in between. 

“More—oh, baby, please—” she keens, her eyes still completely shut, her lips twisting and contorting, struggling to find her words. Freely offering herself to you no strings attached, she takes it—and takes it all. “Harder—I’m so fucking close—please—”

It’s a request you’re more than eager to oblige.

Taking purchase of her back with one hand, lifting her slightly, and grabbing her breast with the other, you’re hammering away at her hot cunt, gasping. Squeezing her flesh, hearing her whine, turning her usually pale flesh red while her arms find solace on your shoulder—anything to keep your rapidly dwindling resolve from dissolving entirely. The end is imminent; you can only delay it by mere moments, minutes at best. 

Karina is so dangerously close, as she said—and as much as you hate to admit, so are you. 

It’s a race that you don’t want to win. As much as you want to keep it together for longer, your body says otherwise. You can’t stop fucking her, no matter how hard you wish to try—and even if you did, why would you even contemplate the idea; your thoughts mostly comprise of how incredibly good she feels around your cock, how they pulsate and grip you with every thrust. Moving inside her is second nature at this point. You eventually lay her back down, only so she takes every inch of you when it eventually happens.

“Don’t stop—don’t ever stop—” she pleads, as if your own mind wasn’t enough to invalidate the idea. Her nails cling to your scalp and neck, barely hanging on for dear life. She’s trembling, uncontrollably jerking beneath. Even she herself doesn’t want it to end. “So good—oh God—”

A handful of thrusts later, Karina cums, with your cock buried in the crevice of her cunt. 

Once again, her voice shoots up to the sky upon impact, screaming your name, her head tilted far back as the sheets allow her to. Jaw widely slack, her neck and collarbone exposed, she can’t stop trembling through her climax. Writhing in your grasp, she lets out a prolonged moan till her vocal cords flame out, her chest heaving for much needed oxygen. 

It doesn’t stop you from pounding into her pussy, even as it overflows with her slickness. If anything, it only accelerates your own demise. The wetness overload coating your cock proves to be overbearing for what little spunk you have left. 

“Me too, Karina—” you blurt out, hammering into her, gasping, bracing for impact as well. “I’m gonna—oh fuck—”

Your own peak overtakes you, rendering you speechless. Everything comes to a standstill. All you can do is bury yourself inside the absolute depths of her pussy, make her take every load, every drop. 

Filling the air with a harmonious moan as it hits you, your cock throbbing achingly, full of all that repressed need, and then—release. 

Spurt after spurt of hot, sticky cum you pour into her womb, not wasting a single drop. Karina cries and moans with every shot, while you can only groan a deep groan from your lungs. She takes it up, milking you of all your worth till you can’t anymore. Even as she drains you empty, you can’t stop pounding into her cunt, slowing your movements back to a grinded out pace till your orgasm dies, and so does your strength.

“That’s it—that’s all I needed—so, so good—”

Karina sighs, her fingers digging deep into your neck, dragging them across your shoulders, then sliding down your arms right after. She can barely open her eyes, only to find you slowly crashing into her, leaning your head to the side so you can rest beside her. Even your hips stop moving. You only have enough energy to wrap an arm around her tiny frame before you finally collapse under your own weight.

“You still have to take me home,” she whispers, mindful of your ear directly next to her, delivered in that oh so saccharine tone. 

“I know,” you mutter through the sheets, eliciting a gentle chuckle from her. Karina’s the one coming out of this in a better state. 

“Can you do something for me? Please?” 

She didn’t need to say the word, but it certainly helps her case tenfold.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I need you to drive me home.” Karina dips her head at an angle to face you. “Not your bodyguards. You.”

Tilting upward to get a good look at her, you lift a curious eyebrow. “I don’t mind—but why?”

“I just—” she faces away, pausing, breathing heavily. She’s about to say something she’ll regret. “Think it would be safer, yeah? Besides, I wouldn’t wanna be caught by my parents just being dropped off by people in suits.”

“Oh right.” 

“I mean this is nice and all but—” Karina stops again, lightly brushing your arm away. A reminder that wealth does not equate to relationship. “I think we’d be better off if we kept things strictly professional. You didn’t have to do all this. You were kind to me and that’s more than enough.”

You roll onto your back, staring up directly at the ceiling. You can only hope Karina is doing the same. She shouldn’t see how deflated you look—after you fucked her, no less.

“Karina, I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

You don’t know exactly what to say. You’re only thinking about the what ifs and the what could, expecting the worst. So you look away, unable to face her a second longer.

Moments later, you feel the sudden tug of her embrace, a leg wrapped around yours. The softest kisses on your shoulder. You can feel her soft smile pressed against your neck. She’s cuddled up on you, intent on never letting go.

“Just keep being kind.”

—————

In the days ahead, it was about saving face. 

Karina’s wish has seemingly been lost in translation and disregarded, as you’ve been putting distance from her. Any little sign that she’s around is your signal to leave. It helps when you have two extra pairs of eyes keeping watch and alerting you at once.

All this to reinforce the same statement you’ve heard from her friends: that you’re no good whatsoever. 

Cautiously eavesdropping on their conversation through your unassuming bodyguards, you hear Karina’s distress over your earpiece, lamenting to her sisters about your absence in her life.

“I seriously don’t understand you. Are you deaf? Are you stupid?” says Ningning, vindicated about her stance. “He ghosted you. They always do that! Not just him! Believe me, I’ve been through worse.”

“Please trust us. Rina, we’re worried about you,” adds Giselle, her tone showing more empathy and concern. “There’s no use in worrying about a man after you did—that.”

“No no. I want to believe,” Karina replies, insistent on you, ignoring all the red flags being waved around. “He really appreciates the affection I gave him. I have to. He seems like a good person in heart—”

“Ugh—here we go again with that good guy shit,” interjects Ningning, frustrated at her friend’s stubbornness. You hear a powerful thud, presumably from a table getting slammed in anger. “He isn’t a good guy! God, Karina, this is why you get bullied—”

“Hey, Ning. Let’s not go that far,” Giselle interrupts, her tone low. “Everyone’s looking at us.”

Dead silence follows, seemingly lasting an eternity. And then—

“Good job, Ning. She left and you made us look bad in front of everyone else,” Giselle adds, breaking the vast stillness, huffing before the audio goes quiet again.

“All the girls have left the cafeteria,” says your first bodyguard, the one you’ve assigned to Karina the first time.

“That’ll be all. Great work,” you tell them over the earpiece before disconnecting. 

You’re not hiding anywhere inside campus. In fact, you’ve been resting in the comfort of your own home the entire time. On your phone’s screen is Karina’s number, having been registered in your contacts since last week. Not once have you bothered messaging her, let alone call—yet you constantly return to it. With each passing day, the temptation to press that button grows stronger and stronger. 

You place your phone down on the desk, as if that’s gonna change anything. Seconds later, it’s in your hand, still on those 10 digits. Calling to you, as if her very voice is somehow playing through those tiny speakers. It’s all in your head, yet it feels vivid through your senses.

It all but confirms your own feelings: you can’t move on, and neither can she.

You’re looking around, even though not a soul’s in sight, convincing yourself to turn back before you fall further down. Seeing as there’s not a form of opposition, whatsoever, you pull the trigger, consequences be damned.

In the few seconds between calling the number and her imminent responding, you’re hoping she doesn’t answer. That she sees her friends’ points, to prove that you’re in the right by leaving her to dry.

All it takes is a few key words.

“Hey. I missed you.”

—————

There’s a lot to take in, but first—you swallow your own pride. This is your own doing, after all.

Looking out the window from your couch, it’s already night. Last time you checked, the sun had only begun setting; that was four hours ago, apparently. Meanwhile, Karina lies flat on the bed, every part of her mindlessly used, mindlessly fucked. Her skin gleaming, blemished in a sea of fiery red and sticky white. Her clothes scattered all over the house, their purpose rendered obsolete the moment she walked back in. You were standing there—waiting, expecting. Along with her body, came a simple request, in her words:

“Take me like you fucking missed me.”

Delivered straight to the point, Karina is something else. She’s twisted and cruel in her own way. To make such a demand in the sweetest voice possible—you can only chalk it up to witchcraft. And to think she was the one who wanted to keep things professional.

Any intentions to study and help with projects and research was a complete lie—it was more of a roundabout way for you to get inside her, over and over again. If anything, her body was the primary object of interest. 

All the ways you can fuck her, how she wants it—anything to get you to cum in her pussy. And that’s exactly what you did.

Spearing your hips against her frame, you find that Karina is so flexible, malleable to your every whim. How she complies without complaint or moment of hesitation, propping herself in whatever position your mind thought of in the moment, and there’s a few you were dying to try. On her fours, with her legs spread wide, on her knees, making an example out of her. So utterly shameless.

And God, she takes it all quite effortlessly, like it’s second nature to her. Milking you dry with her cunt, with her mouth, making you cum with some friction from her tits—everything is a little too easy. Taking just one look at her perfectly sculpted figure, it makes a lot of sense. Yet, Karina has to explain to everyone else why she can’t walk properly in the morning.

A week’s worth of repressed desires and wanton needs, completely gone in a few short hours. It may as well have been a year, maybe two, since you last met. 

You can only watch from a distance, from your couch, as everything falls apart. Even a single second that you’re at arm’s length and she’d be burying your grave deeper. As if it’s gonna change tonight’s outcome.

Like a reanimated corpse coming back to life, Karina rises from the bed, assessing the damage. It’s quite a lot. She’s an absolute wreck.

“I think I may have gone too far in some places,” you remark, observing her take your cum into her mouth with her finger. 

“I don’t believe that,” she says, taking another scoop and savoring the taste, flashing her pasty white tongue. You instinctively avert your gaze, much to her amusement.

“Christ—Karina, what happened to setting boundaries?” you ask, genuinely concerned. Even if it’s for one night, that’s all it takes for everything to snowball out of control. “I don’t think we can do this on the regular, even if I wanted to.”

“True,” she tells you, matter-of-factly, before stepping on the ground and pacing towards you, limping, barely recovering, “But I got nothing else except you.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not? You’ve genuinely changed my life,” she says, propping her hands to her knees to lean forward. “No one bullies me anymore. Because they think I’m your girl. I’m your possession.”

The way Karina calls herself yours gives you goosebumps. Your eyes widen in disbelief.

“This is what you’ve done to me,” she continues, tracing a finger down her drenched core, splayed and ruined—your handiwork—before rubbing her slick against your arm, eventually pushing it between your lips. You allow her. Her voice turns a pitch lower with each sentence. “I can’t express how much I need you right now.”

Sinking further back into your seat, you slowly tilt your face towards her, greatly alarmed. “You’re scaring me a little, Rina. We really should—”

She places that same finger between your lips, now to shut you up. Pressing herself forward, straddling on your lap, she makes sure her cum-soaked tits are directly in view of your face, threatening to smother you between them. Her smile is the cherry on top, inviting you to relax the senses and let yourself go in that familiar lust once again. “We can talk about this—on the other side.”

And before you know it, Karina’s riding you hard, with your face buried deep between her chest, worshiping her. You had no chance.

The next time you gain awareness, you’re back in bed, cuddled beside her. With her back against yours, she’s soundly asleep, despite the repeated calls from her phone and your supposed agreement to have her home by ten. 

It’s already half past midnight.

“Goddammit, Rina,” you mutter, eliciting a light shudder as your hot breath tickles her skin. “I can’t.”

“Just for tonight,” Karina tells you, as if you aren’t gonna be doing this again tomorrow—and the next night, and the one after. “My parents aren’t home,” she adds, clearly lying through her teeth.

“We seriously need to talk about this,” you tell her, rolling out of bed, scrambling for a fresh pair of clothes from the nearby closet. Meanwhile, Karina remains lying on your bed. She has no intention to leave. You have to reiterate again, “What happened to setting boundaries?”

Even the simple act of propping herself up draws your attention, more so in the nude, especially when she’s glistening in your sheen. The question amuses her; look at her teasing expression, ready to fire back. “You’re the one who called me here. So—”

“Jesus, Karina,” you sigh, working around the clock to get everything in order. Car’s ready, her clothes are in the wash. God willing, she’s actually telling the truth. “Why are you like this—”

She laughs—heartily.

—————

The next day on campus, you make it official. Sort of.

Karina’s friends are seated across the hall, their wary, foreboding gazes singling you out of the whole room. Intentions aside, you have no fight with any of them; it’s nothing personal. After all, it’s her choice. You’ll let them judge. You’re on your own for this one; you’ve told your bodyguards to leave you alone so as to make yourself look approachable in their eyes—even if there’s a negative chance they’ll ever buy it.

Then she enters the room, giving each one a kiss and a hug, as if they’re about to part ways for a long, long time. They’re overreacting; it’s not as though you’ll whisk her away and isolate her in some lonesome high castle.

You get a good look at her when she finally walks over. She’s wearing the new clothes you gave her last night. She makes your heart race with delight.

When she takes her seat directly opposite yours, you can’t help but silently remark, “They really don’t like me.”

She lightly chuckles. “Trust me. I’ve tried.”

“Yeah, I’m not asking them to like me,” you tell her, smiling from ear to ear, reaching out your hand, which she accepts. “I’m just—hoping they’ll see me one day as you do.”

“Sure they will. I believe deep down, you’re really a sweet guy.” 

You lower your head, unable to face her, but your face tells it all.

“Just to be clear, you’re not gonna make me actually sign a contract?” Karina asks, puzzled about the need to meet up on campus specifically to set your boundaries. The truth is, anywhere else that wasn’t school would be a distraction.

“Of course not,” you say, baffled at the idea yourself. “Dad usually did the paperwork, and that seems really weird.”

“So is having sex shortly after saving the damsel in distress,” she says, smirking through each word, mentally patting herself on the back for that remark.

Shaking your head in disgust, she laughs at your annoyed expression. That never gets old.

“Right—so what are we then?” Karina leans forward, grabbing your stretched out hand, her eyes widening. She’s looking to kiss you—at least that’s what her face is doing.

Ruminating through your next words carefully, occasionally giving the corner behind her a glance, her friends running through your mind, you reply, “Let’s just say I’m your benefactor for now. I don’t really want anyone to get surprised, and let’s just say, I’m not ready to handle everything just yet. But I want to stay close with you.”

“So we’re friends?”

“Yeah, if that’s how you want to see it.”

“Then there’s no need for this. Aren’t we already close?”

“Well I’m giving you money and clothes, in addition to letting you come over to my place once a week, so—”

Karina tugs your hand forward, interrupting you. “I don’t really need any of this. I just want you to treat me like anyone else. Like a friend. Just do that.”

You end up choking on your own words. Even when she’s admonishing you, Karina remains gentle in tone. And she knows how to bring the conversation around gracefully.

“So, what do you say we go out and have a snack later? After class?” 

With a lovely face and smile like hers, you’d be foolish to refuse her offer.

As the bell rings, you’re nodding in agreement when everyone stands up in unison, heading off to their next class. Karina leaves to regroup with her friends, but not without giving you a kiss goodbye as she walks through the door. You can only stare back—smiling.

Then you get a notification on your phone. A text from an anonymous number, seemingly demanding something urgently in all caps. Something about delayed shipments, but that’s the least of your concerns right now.

Paying no heed to the message, you’re cancelling your plans for today to make room for your first date with Karina.

—————

(A/N: Thank you for the commission! Was supposed to drop around Christmas, but then the holidays got busy, and then literally the day after Christmas, my dumbass just had to get food poisoned and hospitalized. Oof. Just poor timing all around, damn.

Fun little prompt, I was feeling a little edgy writing this, not gonna lie. Definitely left some clues for when I wanna revisit it. Karina is unfathomably hot, and I'm starting to like aespa a lot lately. They've probably had the best year of any girl group, and it's well deserved. Thank you for reading!)

[lazi4ss]

That's Not My Milkman

masterlist

Warning: slight gore but not that detailed, doppleganger Francis

Gender neutral reader

(NOT MY ART, I FORGOT WHOS TIKTOK THIS IS FROM BUT CREDITS TO YOU!)

"So... Is everything in check?"

A tired voice mumbled out as your eyes trailed up from the ID and entry request in your hands to the source of the sound. Tired hazel eyes stared back at you as Francis rubbed the back of his neck.

You felt bad, here you were double and triple-checking everything while the exhausted and probably underpaid milkman was there standing and waiting to be let in. But it's for everyone's safety so don't feel too bad. You gave a small smile as you handed back his paperworks. Everything seems to check out and you were going to let him in but... what's that on his uniform sleeve?

You squinted your eyes as you scanned the cuff of his right sleeve. His gaze travelled to where you were looking and with a shrug of his shoulders he lifted his hand to give you a clear view. And it is in fact blood, and by the looks of it, quite fresh too. How come you didn't notice it before?

You raised an eyebrow, one hand slowly inching closer to the danger button as you tried to be subtle and casual about it. Because what the heck? He was confident enough to show you something so suspicious without batting an eye.

"Sooo... Uhm. Anything you want to share?"

You casually asked, yet nervousness was laced in your tone. He sighed, keeping his composed and nonchalant act as put his hand down, burying it in his pocket as he dragged his free hand on his face. If he's a doppelganger then he's really going the extra mile to act or seem believable.

"Mmm. I know you're on edge."

He mumbled, gaze traveling from your hand that was ready to press the danger button to your face. Staring a little too long as he examined your features. You got a very pretty face yet it was filled with mistrust. Shame. Catching himself, he quietly scoffed under his breath. Good job Francis, already had the doorperson suspicious of you.

"But this is not what it looks like. I injured my hand earlier with a broken glass, blood must've gotten on my uniform accidentally."

He finished, not breaking the staring contest you two have started. You don't quite seem to believe that story, but it was plausible. There was a tense silence for a while before you broke it.

"Show me your wound."

You requested and again, another tense silence. He didn't look like he was going to comply. Just you and him staring down at each other. No one backing down and tearing their eyes away.

"... Fuck."

He quietly hissed and that was enough confirmation for you. You pressed the button immediately, grabbing the phone as you dialed the D.D.D. A familiar voice on the other end confirms and tells you that agents are on their way.

You sighed in relief, although that didn't last long as you heard banging on the glass pane separating you and the doppelganger. Thank God those were strong enough to withhold the assaults. You should've been shaking in your seat right now, and you were albeit not so intense, but it was the first time you came across the quiet and aloof milkman's doppel.

Hell, it was the first time you even saw Francis up front, not just out of the picture in the folder provided for your job. Out of curiosity, you raised the metal shutters to take a peek at it. And what greeted you was a snarling, red-eyed Francis. His features twisted in rage as he banged on the glass repeatedly.

"Let me in, Y/n!"

He growled, to which you shut the metal blinds again on his face in response as you heard the agents barge in. You thought it would be like last time, after a while they would let you know that the cleanup was successful and that they would be on their way back. Easy peasy, right? Oh how wrong you were. Turns out, this one was putting up quite a fight.

You could hear shouting, a lot of screaming, and the sound of something sharp slashing at flesh. Wet sounds of people gurgling in what you presumed to be their own blood... That was disturbing. You were almost too scared to pull up the shutters to see what was going on. But suddenly the noises stopped. Did they catch him? Was it finally over?

With shaking hands, you pressed the danger button off. The blinds slowly ascended and holy shit, the sight was like something out of a nightmare. It was straight up a blood bath. The agents' bodies were piled on the right side. Some missing their heads, missing their upper or lower half, and others' stomachs were ripped out and just generally shredded and torn. But that wasn't what you saw first.

It was Francis, or well, his doppelganger, with blood splattered on his clothes and a little getting on his cheek. His forearm was resting on the glass as he leaned. His mouth opened and formed a smirk as he panted, breathing heavily while glaring at you. His left hand fiddled with the blood-drenched tie on his neck.

If he wasn't a murderous doppelganger, you would've swooned. But alas, you can't have nice things in life. You blinked at him before pressing the button again,

"Wait- damn it!"

He called out but the windows were closed off again as you dialed the number quickly. Yet again, the same old thing was said, another batch of agents were dispatched. You waited, fidgeting in your seat as you heard him call out to you.

"Come on... I'm sorry Y/n, I didn't mean to frighten you. Can you open the door?"

He tried to coax you with that voice... That smooth and deep voice that sounded so tired, on the verge of begging you... Wait what-

You shook your head, patting your cheeks lightly because what the hell was that? Such intrusive thoughts are not welcome while your life's in danger!

More screaming and shouting was heard as the agents arrived and you could tell they were much more prepared than the last batch. Gunshots can be heard but another animalistic growl pulled you out of your thoughts. Everything went silent again. You stay rooted on your spot as the only thing that can be heard in the air is your quivering gasps and heavy breathing on the other side of the glass panel.

Is he still there? You thought as you turned off the danger button again. More bodies were piled up on the left corner and surprise surprise, he was still alive, albeit in a rougher shape than previously. He wasn't wearing his milkman hat anymore, letting his brown messy hair show. His uniform was missing three buttons at the top, slightly showing his chest, bowtie was nowhere to be found.

He was still drenched in blood but what stunned you was what he was doing. His form raised and dropped as he inhaled and exhaled heavily, tired hazel eyes staring back at you as his eyebrows scrunched up. His hands pressed together in a pleading manner. Is he actually begging?

"Y/n, let me in... Please?"

[sinning-23]

Calling Them By Their Full Name

OPLA Headcannons! I thought htis was a funny little thing lol. Anyway enjoy

Warnings: slight mentions of nsfw topics but nothing too serious

Sorry for any spelling errors!

Luffy

-ohhhhh that did not sound like your usual happy, loving voice.

-he knows he fucked up and now he’s hiding from your wrath.

-“MONKEY D. LUFFY, GET YOUR ASS IN THIS KITCHEN. NOW.”

-you could hear a pen drop from how quiet the ship got

-ok so maybe he ate that super expensive, super special dessert you had been saving for a while now. And like, it was going to go bad! All he wanted was a little taste! Than a taste turned into accidentally eating the whole thing.

-He was gonna tell you, honest! But it had proven obvious you found out before he could. He seen you round the corner with RAGe on your face and tears in your eyes.

-"TRAITOR!" You yell, throwing a tired punch to his chest.

-“I’m sorry mami, I’ll find you another one. Promise.” He hums, peppering your face with kisses, squeezing your face between his palms when he did.

-There’s no way you could stay mad at him for long

Zoro

-whoa whoa whoa why are you so ANNNGRY

-hated when you call him by his full name like that, makes him feel like a child being reprimanded

-“RORONOA GODDAMN ZORO.” You boom, Nami’s jaw dropping at the sound. Even she could tell you were pissed

-he’s the sassiest mf alive so he’ll probably just be like, “who the hell are talking to woman?!”

-“You’re a real piece of work you know that??” You’re still yelling and he wastes no time rolling his eyes at you and grabbing you by your waist, the action shutting you up.

“Wanna stop yelling and be a big girl and tell me what’s wrong?” He teases, that stupid smirk you love falling over his features at your speechlessness.

-It’s not often you say his full make but when you do he makes sure you’ll never forget it that same night.

-“Say my name baby, real loud.” He groans, a hand around your throat to steady spent body as he slams back into you

Sanji

-I know thats not a cigarette i smell Vinsmoke Sanji."

-awe hell. Yout tone is deadly. he tried he damndest to stomp it out before you rounded the corner but nope.

-You never use his full name like that. Never.

-did he just get chills?

-"Of course not my love!" He lies throigh his teeth but before he can say anything ese you re lips are on his, you fist gripping the fabric of his shirt.

-He knew he was caught, the taste of tobacco mixing with your usual mint. You pull away, smoothing his shirt out with a warning smile.

-"Don’t lie to me again, I’ll always know when you do, Black Leg." You explain , taking the small cardboard box from his pocket and walking off.

-Even though it was ment as a threat, he couldn't help but feel hotter than ususal. God he loved it when you talked all serious to him.

Bonus: Mihawk

-You know better than to use his full name. Orr to even call him anything besides the usual endearing pet name.

-So when he hears his name called with nothing short of rage, hes trying to figure out who you think you’re talking to.

-"Dracule. Mihawk." You spit, holding the empty bottle in your hand

-Ok so your rage was warented cause he managed to drink the entire vintage bottle of wine you'd been saving...it wasn’t like it was on purpose!

-He doesn’t even bother to look up from his book, just barely giving you a slight glance when you were right in front of him, pointing to the bottle.

-"Id watch your tone darling." he warns, smirking at the way you purse your lips and turn away with a fierce attitude he'd be sure to deal with later.

-“Oh shove it up your ass Dracule.” You scoff, trying to quicken your pace but failing when he’s already behind you, his much larger hand holding your wrist as you yelp.

-His look says it all. You’re screwed.

-So now you’re sitting pretty, bent over and counting each time his hand meets the sore and slightly reddened flesh of your ass.

-“Now, what’s my name again darling?”

[anirudhpisharody]

There is not a locked room anywhere that with the right tools and enough time you can't break into.

[ID: A series of 21 gifs from the TV show 9-1-1.

The 1st gif shows Hen and Eddie untangling Halloween decorations at the firehouse. Eddie says, "You never know when a door is gonna close, and when it does, then...". Hen replies "It's sealed".

The 2nd gif shows Shannon talking to Eddie, who is offscreen, at a restaurant. She says, "Because if I try to do this again before I'm ready, there won't be a second chance."

The 3rd gif shows Pepa talking to Eddie, who is offscreen. She says, "It's been too long. You need to do something or you're going to be alone forever."

The 4th gif shows an injured woman lying on a backboard in a c-collar talking to Eddie and Hen, who are offscreen. She says, "We're all gonna die alone. Might as well spend time with our loved ones while we're still living." The gif cuts to a shot of Eddie and Hen looking at her.

The 5th gif shows Shannon lying down in an ambulance with a c-collar. She is talking to Eddie, who is offscreen. She says, "I'd love...a little more time."

The 6th gif shows Eddie during a flashback talking to Shannon, who is offscreen. He says "Can we please talk about this later? Can I maybe just get a little damn time?"

The 7th gif shows Eddie with tears in his eyes talking to Kim, who is offscreen. He says, "Never did get to say all the things I wanted to say. or hear all the things I needed to hear, I guess."

The 8th gif shows Ramon sitting down at a table talking to Eddie, who is offscreen. He says, "Why didn't you tell us?" The gif cuts to a shot of Eddie, who says, "Pretty sure you know the answer to that question."

The 9th gif shows Eddie standing in front of his fridge with tears in his eyes, talking to Ana, who is offscreen. He says, "I should have said something sooner." Ana replies, still offscreen, "Yeah. You probably should have."

The 10th gif shows Buck talking to Eddie, who is offscreen. He says, "You said you did this a year ago, why are you just telling me now?"

The 11th gif shows Eddie underground during the well rescue. You cannot see his face. He says, "I need more time", but the text indicates it's unintelligible. The gif cuts to a shot of Bobby looking frustrated, then cuts to a shot of Buck shouting, "Cap, can't we give him more time?"

The 12th gif shows Christopher yelling at Eddie, who is offscreen. Offscreen, Eddie says, "We'll make an even bigger gingerbread house next year, right?" Christopher replies, "You could be dead next year!" The gif cuts to a shot of Eddie looking up at Christopher, who is offscreen, with a shocked look.

The 13th gif shows Eddie on the phone. He says, "Why wait? Well, there's no better time than now."

The 14th gif shows Eddie at the firehouse talking to Chimney, who is offscreen. He says, "Tomorrow isn't promised to anyone. If you love her, tell her."

The 15th gif shows Shannon at a restaurant talking to Eddie, who is offscreen. She says, "Eddie, uh, I think–". The gif cuts to a shot of Eddie, where he cuts Shannon off and says, "Please, just...let me say this."

The 16th gif shows Buck talking to Eddie, who is offscreen. He says, "Uh, Eddie–". The gif cuts to a shot of Eddie, where he cuts Buck off and says, "Just let me finish."

The 17th gif shows Buck being pushed towards the ground, with blood splattered on his face. He is staring ahead at Eddie, who is offscreen, with a shocked expression. The gif cuts to a shot of Eddie, who is lying on his side on the street, with his head in a puddle of blood. He is staring ahead at Buck, who is offscreen, as his hand falls forward towards Buck.

The 18th gif shows a close-up of Eddie talking to Christopher, who is offscreen. He says, "You can always come back. If you change your mind five minutes or five months from now...".

The 19th gif shows Eddie sitting in a confessional booth. Offscreen, a priest says to him, "Well, I imagine after 23 years, something in particular must be bothering you enough to make you feel like you need to be here."

The 20th gif shows Eddie talking to Buck, who is offscreen. He says, "Don't walk away from something before you even know what it is."

The 21st gif shows Eddie opening his front door. The gif cuts to wide shot of him smiling and nodding hello to Buck, who is offscreen. Eddie is wearing a button-up shirt with no pants. The gif then cuts to a shot of a visibly upset Buck standing outside, looking at Eddie.

END ID]

[willowed-wisp]

apocalypse sex [ könig ]

You are in Austria when the zombie apocalypse strikes- you and a pretty blue eyed stranger called König aim to survive together

You didn’t remember how it went down, that crashed feeling piling onto you was all that could be mustered… the excruciating pain which followed.

Left in the street to die. But you weren’t dead, if only in the days to come. The early days of the apocalypse.

Glad to be in a bed, better than the cobblestone streets you’d been dumped on. Vague snippets filtered through, light eyes furrowed with unneeded worry- arms easily cradling you. That’s when slumber betrayed you. Probably whose bed you found yourself in.

Incoherent words spilled from a masculine voice, surprisingly gentle in your ears. Yet, you couldn’t understand what the man was saying, “I don’t understand, I’m sorry…”

“I said, I’m glad you’re awake… you weren’t well.” Not feeling ‘well’ either, but able to move. Though when you did, a hand rested on your shoulder and you met his face… the same kind eyes in your hazed dream. Something so young about a face that had seen too many atrocities. “Why would someone harm British national?” He must have seen your ID, you couldn’t blame him.

You laughed the nerves away, “I was speaking to the wrong guy, apparently…” The man didn’t laugh, not even cracking a smile. You wondered if he actually could look anything but worried on the verge of tears. “I’ll be on my way… I don’t want to be a nuisance.” Everywhere ached but you’d had worse, a police officer by trade in London. That’s why when this mountain of a man blocked your way, you reached for the imaginary gun you had been specially trained to you in unforeseen situations.

“It’s not safe out there,”

“To me, it doesn’t feel safe in here…” That’s only when you noticed the static on the television huddled in the corner. Strange… you were in Vienna, there must have been service. That doomed look on his face told you as much, “How long was I asleep for?”

“A day…”

“And what’s happened in that day?” Peeking out the window, fire consumed some of the city while trash scattered the streets. Ignoring the people walking. “Rioting?”

He shook his head, “A weapon was released… infecting anyone by the bloodstream.” It clicked.

“Zombies?” You sounded much too nonchalant… that’s why you were in Vienna, investigating reports for HQ. You unfortunately rubbed people up the wrong way in Austria. “Fuck… we need to get moving…” He watched you walk across the room, out to the living area of his apartment. It was bare, lifeless as if he was never there on the frequent. “I never asked your name. I’m Y/N.”

You sat on the sofa while he loomed, “They call me ‘König’,”

“Who’s they? You’re friends?”

He looked out of the window. Hung up on one detail. “You’re taking this zombie problem too well, officer…” He was too observant for his own good.

“Who are you, ‘King’?” You were smarter than you looked… he admired that in an adversary.

Something in his eyes toyed with you, a buzz of some kind. “I’m your friend, we’re going to need each other to survive out there…”

That you agreed on.

You laughed in his face, “You really want to finish unsigned paperwork now?”

“I need to get to my work… they have things we’re going to need.”

When you arrived, it was burned to the ground. “König, we need to go.” It had all moved so fast, those first weeks. Luckily both of you able to handle yourselves, what you really needed to were guns… to no avail.

König drove most of the time, the only time he looked at peace. You hadn’t really spoke much, always having your eyes wide open for potential threats. But in the countryside, where very little people inhabited- you could exhale properly for the first time.

Especially when you found a possible refuge. Passing by a lake- you saw an island out in the clear waters and on the tuft of green in the turquoise glimmer, you spotted a cabin. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“A decent nights sleep?” It didn’t take long to find a rowing boat on the dock your side of the lake. Both equally doing your work, loading up any supplies you had acquired on the way. Tinned food, bottles onto of bottle of water. Luckily König was a big guy… and you couldn’t stop watching him in that previous week.

He had saved your life with an axe in the grocery store, it seemed to be his preferred weapon choice. Ever since, you couldn’t stop the wondering.

The settlement looked like a holiday outlet, it was out of the way of civilisation and had its own livestock on the stretch of island behind your viewpoint on ‘mainland’. Cows, chickens… it was there. Luckily you watched your farming programmes…

König did the security sweep of the two story property himself, deeming it clear. “Still has electricity…” He marvelled.

“There’s a wind turbine out back and solar panels on the roof… these guys were ready for an apocalypse…” Head up looking at the haven you had uncovered, not paying mind… crashing into the body beside you. His hands held the back of your head and your the base of your back. In an ode to keep you upright.

He made you feel incredibly small, “Gotta be careful, kleine dame…” You almost blushed at his handsome smile, eyes shining down on you.

That night you sat by the fire, in the cozy cabin. Having eaten soup beforehand… life couldn’t be too bad like that. Huddled under a blanket, too preoccupied staring at the warm lit visage of the man who had saved your life more than once. Before he peered back in you, a lopsided grin on his lips

“Doors locked?” You asked before heading to bed… a nice comfortable bed instead of the inside of that crappy Peugeot you’d picked up along the way.

He hummed a ‘yes’ to you. All power off, all windows boarded up. “The people who lived here had an eye for security systems…” How he knew the code was beyond you but you’re pretty sure he said he’d grown up nearby and fished the lake with his grandfather. You shrugged it off.

Going downstairs you noticed the pictures hanging up, on the second floor landing. A remarkably tall boy stood with his grandparents- catching his first fish… this was König’s place…

You stepped to the room he’d settled in for the night, only to find him dripping wet from a shower. Only in a towel hung around his hips, “I’m sorry, I should’ve knocked!” Before darting out of the room… too focused on the rippled flesh of his abdomen rather than the colours of the walls. You checked on the livestock, naming each of them in your head. Getting mixed around every time they moved.

A hand grazed your hip for a split second, “This was your grandparent’s cabin, wasn’t it?” He gave a nod. “And you’re the guy with good tastes in security systems?”

He seemed trapped in his own thoughts, “I knew it was safe here, we’d have everything we needed… and yeah I’m the security guy-,” You didn’t care, hands placed on his scarred forearms- craning your neck up, kissing König. Just a small token of your growing affection. He tasted like sea salt and smelled like ginger and sandalwood. “Damn, you beat me to it…”

A hand pressed against what felt like rock but was in fact his chest, “We’ve got many more of those to come…” Not helping the purr in your voice, sultry to a fault. All completely intentional.

Though, something told you he’d have trouble initiating anything.

You were truly mistaken.

That night, nails dug as fingers wrenched in his growing out dirty blonde hair. Tongue riveted along your folds, watching him work before he flicked the sweet spots you didn’t even know existed. That had your head against the dining table, toes curling on the edge. Fingers added, corkscrewing in and out of your wet pussy had you whimpering. Only able to get part of his name out.

His hands wrapped around your ankles, propping onto his shoulders. Bending your legs so your knees were at your waist, mouth invading deeper. Kissing and marking his territory, careless moans thrown into the void. Curses tossed out, fingers teasing your bud while he devoured.

Tasting yourself on his lips, fucked out already, “This isn’t over, prächtig.” Draping your legs around his hips, holding your ass as his carried you to the bedroom you’d found him half naked.

Walls a dark grey and military decor splattered here and there. Fingers at your chin, kisses twining the two of you. A shared effort to get the t-shirt over those broad shoulders. Hot, bare flesh under your fingertips. Muttering a swear, open-mouthed adoration consuming you. Tracing along rough and ready skin, he keened away, “Sensitive? How ‘bout here?” A palm at his denim, you witnessed König melt. Caging you in under him, never breaking contact.

Thick fingers teased- delving at a slow pace - curling at that sensitive patch inside. Breathless gasps coming from you in ebbs and flows, “Be loud, schatz…”

“Still so shy, even after making me come on your tongue…” Caressing his soft cheek, eye contact broken. Clenched down only for him to pick up the slack- feeling yourself gush with a wail. Grasp on his forearm tightening, your face pitifully scrunched up. Mouth carved to an ‘o’.

König’s warmth gone as he stood, tall and domineering. Unbuckling his belt, though you could see the outline in the blue fabric before. White underwear, black elastic at the top. Subdued but in tune to your surroundings, your eyes wide. His height corresponding at the thick, lengthy outline. Scarred hand giving it a rub, looking down at the mess in between your legs… the pool on the already dark covers. “Fucking hell…” It slapped across the trail of dark hair down the lower half of his stomach. V-line encasing the well defined cock in front of you.

How was it ever going to get inside you? You hadn’t had sex in a while, and this was the thing that would prize you open. You salivated thinking about it. His weight dipped against yours, seating between your legs. “Don’t look so scared, Y/N,” A thumb against your bottom lip, claiming both once again. Laying you down, the same thumb rubbing your face. “I’m going to go slow…” Resting on his knees, you couldn’t help but touch the thickness. He huffed so sweet at whatever touch you gave him.

Lifting your hips up with one of the pillows, legs stretched to fit his hips. Cold air hitting your bare parts, his legs filled the chill. You didn’t look, as his tip sank in. A sharpness turned into pleasure as the rest of him burrowed inside of you. Hands stapled to his neck- look at every twitch in König’s features. A loud groan from him, “Scheiße…” All that more attracted to him from that angle, incoherently in a void between dizziness and suffocation. Fleshy walls swollen around his girth. “I don’t think I can control myself, schatz…”

Your mind delirious and vision like a kaleidoscope, “Give it to me…”

König struggled to move, which made his movements more erratic. Hands everywhere on him, maiming him any time he bucked. Movements not rough but pent up.

Wriggling too much, his hands clamped down on your raised hips while ploughing you. Lifting your ass off the bed, fucking into you. Slaps of skin and strained choruses of teeth gritted screams was all that could be heard. Discomfort outmatched by carnal tears… He knew when you came- each time you did. Pulsing around him, almost pushing him out. That’s why he ground so deeply. And that’s when he’s name came out in a squeal.

Before his body buckled, hilted in you. Holding your wrists down, all while you milked him dry. So right, so soft… all his from now on. This giant of a man inside of you.

What a way to spend the zombie apocalypse…

————

Thanks for reading :)

————

masterlist

[writersrkive]

Warmth | Aaron Hotchner

summary: Your period arrived, and you are feeling like shit, but that doesn't mean you won't go to work. Your body is pleading to rest, but you are stubborn, so you act like you are fine. However, Hotch is there to take care of you.

genre: comfort pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau!fem!reader warnings: cramps and physical discomfort caused by menstruation, fainting.

a/n: maybe is not a good one, but I'm on my period, so let me be delulu. English is not my first language, please be kind <3.

Masterlist Spanish ver. On Wattpad (coming soon)

When your lower back started to hurt, days prior, you knew what day of the month was getting closer. You prepare yourself, however that morning your body felt heavy, almost numb.

Walking out of bed, going to the bathroom, showering and dressing up were difficult tasks. The morning didn't go any better. You had problems with your car, the traffic was hell, and when you arrived at Quantico, fifteen minutes late, your ID wasn't in your wallet. You had to walk back to your car and go up to the floor where you worked five minutes later.

“Did you have cardio yesterday? Is that the reason why you are so late?” Derek asked, teasing, but you were not in the mood to joke with your best friend.

"Maybe I just took too long to hide the body of the rat that was bothering me last night, do you want me to show you what I did with it?" I asked, finally sitting on the chair to rest my lower back. My belly was hurting a lot.

“Uh.” Emily said and chuckled when she saw Derek's surprised expression.

“Maybe not the time.” The dark skinned whisper.

“Definitely not.” I answered. “Did Hotch…” I started, turning to JJ.

“Don't worry. He has been inside his office since we arrived. I don't think he noticed."

A few minutes later, I was leaning towards the files I had on my desk, not because I couldn't see, but because I needed to feel something warm towards my belly. My hands weren't enough, but it was all I had.

“Take this.” Spencer said, handing me some pain killers.

“Thanks, but last time I tried, they didn't work."

“Try again.” Emily said softly, understanding what was happening. “If you don't feel good, tell us.”

“Thanks, but seriously, I'm fine.”

That wasn't true though. Thank God we had just file day, because I wouldn't be able to fly in that condition. But at least I would have the opportunity to sleep a little thereby.

I needed something warm. So I stood up and walked to the mini cafeteria, where there was a coffee machine, with tea bags on the side and snacks. My tea was already prepared, I only wanted to grab a chocolate bar, but the cramps hit me, making the cup of tea almost fall from my hands.

“Hey, hey. Easy there.” That calm and velvety voice made me realise the man who I liked was now next to me, helping me by taking the cup and steadying myself with his other hand.

“Sorry, boss.” I whispered.

“What happened? Are you sick?”

“Kinda… I'm just not feeling good. You know, that day of the month.” I answered, still trying to breathe, feeling a tear of cold sweat slide down my back.

“It's okay. You need to rest. Go home.” He said with a firm, yet soft tone of voice. The team was always saying he only used that tone with me.

“I'm fine, seriously.”

I could see in his eyes that he was not convinced. “Okay, but let me know if you need something. Don't think I didn't notice that you arrived late.”

“I'm really sorry. That won't happen again.” My cheeks were probably burning, and I didn't know if it was because of my period, or the embarrassment.

“What I'm trying to say is that I know that you are not feeling good, and I will understand if you need to go back home.” He reassured me, lightly caressing the arm that still held me.

“Thanks.” I whisper.

“Here. Take this.” He handed me a warm compress that he took out of the microwave after heating it for a few minutes.

The tea and compress helped a lot, however, the painkiller didn't work. I felt like I was about to faint. The noises of our workmates, the weather, and even poor JJ's breathing was stressing me out. A break was what I needed, but I wouldn't be able to take one, so instead, I went to the bathroom. I didn't know Hotch was observing me from his seat, through the office window.

In the bathroom things weren't better. My forehead was covered in sweat, my throat felt dry and my legs and arm were about to give up. All of that was reflected on the mirror in front of me.

Someone knocked.

I opened the door and then my vision turned black. Next I remember strong arms embracing me on the floor. “That's it. I'm taking you home.” He said.

“I'm…” I tried to talk.

“No, you are not fine. Sometimes you need to hear your body and rest.” He explained gently, moving my hair out of my face. “You are going to drink water. I'm going to get your stuff and I'll take you home.” It was obvious there was no room for discussion.

“Got it, boss.” I whispered, letting myself smile on his chest. It wasn't a surprise how excited I was because he was taking care of me, even if I was feeling like shit. He was the warmth I needed.

[girlivealwaysbean]

it's been a year since i lied to you and told you that yes ive moved on so can we please be friends again. can you really blame me? i thought getting good at suppressing our memories from that one month meant moving on. i didn't know that i would feel a lump in my throat when you called me suddenly in the middle of a sunday even tho the plan was to talk once a week and we had talked only 3 days before. i didn't know i would feel butterflies in my stomach when i heard your laugh so close to my ear, but can you really blame me for being reminded of you giggling talking about the logistics of kissing on your study table?

but it's been another year since we've talked on the phone. those memories are so distant and blurry and full of light and happiness that i can't even believe they happened to me, it feels like they happened to a different person. so you don't have to worry, because ive moved on now.

remember when i used to tell you that i miss you so much i can't think about anything else, that i spend all my day reading our old chats? and you used to say, you need to stop and there are other people in the world? well, you don't have to worry about feeling uncomfortable now. i passed the exam i failed because i was too heartbroken over you. i go to tuitions and then i go to internship and i come home so late that all i do is eat and sleep. ive been doing better these days.

and you were right, there are other people in the world. but do you know, i asked a girl to come watch barbie with me, and she made a disgusted expression and said she'd already watched it and she hated it? this happened after we shared a coffee and realising we live next to each other and finding out that she watches kdramas and i listen to kpop. so surprising isn't it? someone who probably understands toxic masculinity and gender roles are fucked up still has internalised misogyny in her? nobody can compare to you, you lecturing me about feminism in tenth standard and your little book club with assigned reading as a thousand splendid suns and you having tears in your eyes showing us harry styles with pride flags in his concerts and you being mean and blunt saying i need to talk about my internalised homophobia. im starting to think you were one in a million and i was a fool to lose you, and an even bigger fool to have had you back and then lose you again.

but do you understand now? you told me you didn't, two years ago. i asked you, don't you understand that i was going crazy dealing with my psychotic family and i was depressed and tired and couldn't talk? and you said no, you're sorry, you really don't, you don't understand how someone can not share why they're sad to the person they supposedly love the most in the world. as i was writing this, daylight by taylor swift started playing. ironic, isn't it? there are many memories ive tried to erase from that one month, but this one i cannot forget- me coming into your room the night we planned and asking you if you're sure about this and is this like an experiment thing a oh what's kissing like thing or is it a we're in love with each other thing, and you smiling softly and saying girl yes i am sure it is one hundred percent a we're in love thing.

ive been getting better at sharing my sadness with my loved ones. my parents haven't stopped fighting, my dad shouted at my mom today morning because my brother lost the car keys, but it's okay, ive learned to tune it out. he only lives here for half a month, he stays somewhere else the other half so it's been easier to bear. my sister moved out, finally. ive been sad because of it but i know she's obviously happier there so it's okay. we have a neighbor and they have this tiny tiny annoying si kid she always comes to her house after her mom scolded her to sulk and watch tv with us. how is your little sister doing? i think of her when our neighbor devil comes. and how is your mom doing? are they settling in well to the new city? and how are you doing? have you been okay? we don't have to be exes trying to be friends again. but can't we just be childhood friends (if age 15 was childhood) who drifted apart briefly but found their way back to each other? please?

but it's okay, if we can't. cause like i said, ive moved on.

[xazse]

SUGURU AND SATORU MEETING A CURSED HYBIRD PUPPY!GIRL 😭😭

Tags: Fem!PuppyReader, Hybrid!Reader, Licking, petting, Cursed!Reader, Female reader, the licking isn’t sexual.

PART 2

“Suguru.”

“No”

“Sugruuuuu…”

“Nope”

“Please, please”

“No Satoru, she needs to be exorcized” Suguru quite frankly was sick of this back and forth they’d been doing for the past five minutes, they were sent on a mission to come dispose of a curse that had been bugging the village for a while. After killing the huge thing there were still traces of cursed energy, following the trail led them to this predictable right now. Hiding behind an abandoned house was you: a curse? But some type of Hybrid dog thing? Puppy thing? You looked around their age, human body but what was off about you was your fluffy ears and equally fluffy tail.

But regardless you were still a curse that needed to be killed, Satoru clearly wasn’t seeing that, here he is huddled on the dirty ground with you in his lap, licking at his face whilst giggles fall from his lips. You were far too friendly to be some normal curse, definitely an abnormality, something they should also be reporting to principal Yaga and the higher-ups.

Satoru has a tight hold on your waist, not letting you go but you seem too eager to bury yourself deeper in his hold, he’s cooing at how cute you are, how pretty you look, and how he just wants to “eat you up” Suguru damn near wants to slap some sense into him. Your attire consists of a thin nightgown that stops at your thighs, probably something you found?

“Oh I’m definitely keeping you” Satoru says, “no you definitely aren’t, if I’m saying it’s not possible what makes you think Yaga is?” Suguru shifts his gaze to you who’s staring right back at him. “Don’t listen to him he’s just a big grumpy meanie!” Satoru starts to rub and mess with your tail, instantly your eyes are back on him and so is your tongue, licking all over his face again.

“Stop letting her do that, it’s gross.”

“Suguru just look at her, isn’t she just so darn cute though?” Satoru grabs your cheeks and pinches them together while forcefully turning your head towards his companion. You look at Suguru once again, he genuinely thinks you look a little dumb? Is that even possible? A little line of drool is currently on display with your mouth open. Satoru stands up at his full height and a slight whine can be heard from you.

“Don’t worry I’m not leaving” Satoru helps you stand up and you’re instantly clinging to him again, you can’t reach and lick his face again so you take to cuddling into his chest, smooshing your head all over. He uses a hand to rub at your ears while cooing at you again.

Suguru’s phone rings and the called ID reads Principal. “That’s Yaga, Satoru, we should be leaving now.” Satoru looks at Suguru with puppy eyes, fake tears decorating his lash lines. Suguru visibly sighs out loud before speaking: “listen we won’t exorcize her, but we do have to leave okay?”

They do end up leaving you, a confused look on your face as you clutch onto Satoru’s clothes and attempt to follow them , he gently grabs ahold of your hands and disengages them from his shirt, he feels so bad for leaving you, already had felt a connection with you even with a short time frame.