#it just feels appropriate and I'm so fucking scared

[thatseadog]

the moment Gill uses divine sense and discovers evil is brewing from within him I'm beating up the moon and coming for the sun next

[len-the-neverending]

.

[jji-lee]

as he sat on your pink fluffy couch, haechan wondered how the hell he got himself in this situation. he fidgeted in his seat, silence eating him alive. he looked up quickly, catching a glimpse of you before immediately ducking his head back down.

if he had known he'd been called over to get stared down by five very attractive individuals, he probably would've ignored the job offer and forced himself to live with the burden of poverty. you five had been looking over at him and whispering to one another for the past ten minutes, leaving him sat there, tense and sweaty.

.

he had been greeted at the door by the short pretty boy, huang renjun, kinda mean but nice enough to appear welcoming. and then he was guided into your bedroom by a taller bulkier male, lee jeno, kind smile but kinda intimidating. as he waited for "the boss" to be out of the bathroom (that's what everyone had been calling you), he was questioned by another pretty boy, na jaemin. he asked him about photography which helped ease his nerves.

"donghyuck, you're like a camera god, don't look so nervous, there's no one better for this job than you!"

he wish he knew what the job actually was, but he'd just have to wait for "the boss" to be ready. he also wishes that you'd hurry up because during the wait, a female had appeared. she was dressed in all black, outfit simple yet very fashionable, aeri uchinaga or giselle which she preferred to be called. hyuck avoided eye contact with her as best as he could, only mumbling a little hi, eyes focused on the super interesting piece of lint on his pants.

.

when you had finally come in hyuck made the mistake of looking up, swallowing thick as he stared you down. you were gorgeous wow, well you were all gorgeous, but you, you were something out of his wet dreams. your cute little outfit snug tight against your body, wait was that appropriate for a job interview?

"taaa-daaa!"

you spun around on your heels, hands on your hips as you posed for everyone to see. hyuck's mouth went dry as he watched you.

"stop putting on a show you're scaring the poor kid, hurry up so we can do the interview."

jaemin rushed you onto the bed facing hyuck. you leaned forward from your seat reaching your hand out to greet haechan.

"hey hyuck-"

he blushed at the nickname.

"nice to meet you, i'm y/n, the one actually hiring you."

he shook your hand quickly, pulling his own back like he had just been burned.

"nice to meet you too, y/n."

he avoided eye contact eyes drifting towards your cleavage as you bent in front of him. haechan shut his eyes bringing his hands onto his lap to hide his arousal, are you a fucking teenager get a grip! you giggled sitting back down on the bed as your other four friends joined you, and that's how it began.

.

haechan feels like he's been sitting there for hours listening to you all whisper, occasional pushes and shoves being exchanged between the five of you. renjun was the first to speak, clearing his throat before starting,

"i'm gonna be blunt with you lee donghyuck. y/n is a cam girl and we want you to record her streams for her-"

"and occasionally take her sexy twitter posts!"

"yes... like giselle said, and take pictures of her. she's going to be nude almost all of the time, or as close to naked as she can get. can you handle that?"

hyuck thinks maybe god hates him, or maybe he really loves him because what the actual hell is going on. he stared at the five of you eyes wide, processing what renjun had just said.

"look now you've scared him!"

jaemin slapped renjun's thigh, an apologetic smile on his face.

"i wish i could make this better for you donghyuck, but i don't think there's any way to sugar coat this."

haechan bit his lip, looking towards you.

.

you knew from the moment you had walked in that donghyuck had zero experience with women. the way he avoided eye contact and the way he stole glances at your breasts and bare legs. so the shock on his face at the job description was more than expected, what you didn't expect to feel so bad for him. he looked like a deer caught in headlights, ready to run away at the slightest threat.

"everyone out."

your friends looked at you confused as you pointed to the door.

"you heard me everyone out. now- no not you hyuck sit down."

you watched as he nervously sat back down, ready to leave at your command. your friends exchanged glances as they exited the room, unsure of what you were planning on doing.

.

haechan could feel the heat rise in his body as you shut the door behind them. why on earth did you want to be alone with him?

he tried to calm his breathing as he watched you kneel in front of him, placing your hands on his thighs, dick twitching at the touch, for the love of god lee donghyuck relax.

"hey, hyuck look at me, please?"

he sighed before raising his gaze to meet your eyes, a gentle smile on your lips.

"i know this sounds crazy, and i know i should have told you what the job was before you came."

he nodded in agreement, a giggle leaving you lips,

"so, lee donghyuck, right now i am y/n y/l/n the college student, but when i do my job i am craftykitty the camgirl."

wait- you were who? craftykitty? the camgirl that kept him up for countless nights, moaning into his pillows so his roommates wouldn't hear him? the camgirl that he spends hundreds of dollars on? his dream camgirl that is kneeled in front of his hands on his thighs? he stared at you with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape.

"i've seen your work and i know you're capable of doing the job right hyuck, but it's up to you okay? i've been doing this cam stuff for a while but this is my first time actually telling someone who i am, so please if you don't want the job can you at least keep my identity a secret?"

.

you let out a nervous laugh, forgetting that donghyuck hadn't signed the NDA yet. what are you even rambling about telling a complete stranger your identity and you don't even know if he'll take the job-

"i'll do it."

now it was your turn to looked shocked. his cheeks were flushed and his nervousness was clear in the way he picked at the fur on your couch.

"i'll do it, just, i just need some time to adjust, i want my focus to be 100% through the lens, i'll be okay as long as i look at you through the camera."

you pushed yourself off the floor, a wide smile on your lips,

"perfect! we can do whatever you want hyuck! you can have that damn camera stuck to your eyes if you want!"

you sprinted towards the door hitting it harshly, yelps coming from the other side of it.

"i know you guys were listening! he said he'll do it! get the paperwork!"

you turned back to him quickly,

"how about we do some practice shots so you can get warmed up, hm?"

truthfully haechan wanted to say no, he wanted nothing more than to run back to his dorm and shove his hand down his pants, your face still clear in his mind. but as he looked up at your bright smile he fears that he might agree to anything you say, all you had to do was ask.

⋆₊˚⊹.𖥔 zoom, click, panic ! -> 3. chat spam mommy

previous -> masterlist -> next

notes: literally rewrote this like 10 times i am struggling guys 😭 i wrote like 3 midterm essays today i don't have brain power. but for nerd hyuck i will make an exception, hope you guys are liking it!

taglist : @sunghoonsgfreal , @hizhu , @axo-l0tl , @strawberrysavi , @hyuckiebb-blog , @hyucktion , @4yunogf , @jakesbubu , @gacktsa , @iheartjayke , @annoyednblax , @luvvhaechan , @dudekiss3r , @nanaxwi , @yesohhsehun , @prettybluei , @soobinbunnie5 , @hyucksunset , @peterm4rker , @byeonwooseokabs , @kodasity , @hyuckmoon , @catdonut657 , @lionzyon , @luvandletter , @defzcl , @nneteyamss , @222brainrot , @1lovejinki , @zzurao , @catpjimin , @multifandomania , @docilismo , @cyjzzl , @livingdoll-hara , @this-is-lowkey-a-hyuck-fanpage , @ohwowzersthatscool , @babyjenono , @wonswondrland , @jenoleeaesthetic , @bananinhazz , @hyuckna25 , @doejaejung , @angeliqueiguess , @mymartiniblue , @aerivrs , @heyitsbreeeeee , @choizzn , @jae-n0 , @hyuckshinee

[mistymisfit]

How he shows he loves you

Summary: 3 short blurbs on how Jason shows reader he loves them.

warnings: mentions of reader being kidnapped, but descriptions are very vague lol.

wc: 2k

a/n: This isn't edited at all, but it has been sitting on y drafts for wayyyy too long

Jokes

Disappointment is not the initial reaction he hoped for when he came in through your front door. Shock would've been a more appropriate response, since your music was too loud and you didn't hear him come in. He decided to pull a prank and scare you, silently making his way to the kitchen where you were having a karaoke session. Which given how quiet he could be when he wanted to, it was not that hard at all. Now Jason tries to hold back his laugh, a boyish grin plastered across his features that he wouldn't be able to suppress even if he tried.

"What are you making?" He whispers next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. If he was being honest, he'd say he is concerned about how long it takes you to notice there's someone else in your apartment. But right now, he's too caught up in the bliss of being in your presence that he can't bring himself to care.

"Oh, you're early." You say after the scream you let out when he comes up behind you, seemingly out of nowhere to whisper in your ear.

"Why? You're mad?" He replies, hiding his insecurity behind sass. What if you didn't want him there? What if he's overstayed his welcome? But before he can come up with some convoluted reason for why you don't want him anymore, you're stopping him.

"I just wanted to have this done by the time you got here" You signal back at the food with your head. And he looks over, finally realizing you were cooking his favorite meal.

"What's the special occasion?"

"Nothing," You blush "Can't a girl just cook for her boyfriend?"

"Not unless she wants me to make her my wife," He teases, you roll your eyes, growing accustomed to these types of jokes. Once he reached a certain level of domesticity and was comfortable enough in the relationship, he started to talk about how he was gonna marry you. Jason would even jokingly refer to you as his wife. At first, he made you blush, now it was just the usual routine.

You would lie if you said it didn't excite you and make your feelings all mushy when he did that, your heart felt warmer when he showed how committed he was to you. You felt giddy whenever he said "When we get married", he never said if we get married, he was very certain about wanting to spend the rest of his life with you. Your heart skipped a beat whenever he'd drop a detail of his dream wedding, "We're having a chocolate cake, like the one in Matilda" or "I'm kissing the fuck out of you on that altar". One time he said: "If you liked that, imagine what our honeymoon would be", that one got him a soft slap on his chest as you chuckled.

"How did you get here anyways?" You change the subject, going back to your cooking.

"Used the front door" He answers with a smirk, arms wrapping around your waist as he steps closer to you.

"Really? How?"

"Cause I'm your boyfriend," He replies like it's the most obvious thing in the world. It is, but he didn't need to say it like that. "I have been for a while, and you gave me your keys"

"Damn, my doorman just lets anyone in these days" You joke and you can hear the little "tsk" that comes from his mouth as he lets go of you.

"I can leave and come back from your window" He's kidding, but you know him well enough to know he's willing to follow through just for the sake of doing a bit. Instead, you hold his arm, pulling him back to you in between giggles.

"Please, I finally have boot imprint-free windowsills"

He laughs, it's real laughter, not his usual chuckle. It makes your heart work overtime as you watch his smile reach his eyes so much that he ends up closing them. He pulls you in for a kiss before he lets you go to finish the dinner you worked so hard on. The food that when he takes a bite from has him asking:"You want a summer or spring wedding?"

Touch

Even if he's less inclined to admit this, Jason knew that before you met he was touch starved. And now he can't get enough of it, he's constantly on your side or with his hands on you in any way, shape or form. It came as a shock--to him-- how badly he needed you sometimes, he never felt this about anyone before. He swears he's not usually this clingy.

You are walking down the street and suddenly you're not holding his hand or bicep and he's grabbing your hand and putting it back. He could never be one of those boyfriends who don't notice when their partner stops holding their hand, if you ever so that he's immediately holding your hand again and asking what's wrong.

Sometimes his touch is protective. You are going through a crowded space and he has his hand placed on the small of your back, guiding you and making sure nothing ever happens to you. It turns a little too protective when another guy tries talking to you and he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in for a kiss.

But most of the time, he's all alone with you, lying down on bed or a couch, and he's tracing shapes on your uncovered skin. He leans his head closer when you play with his hair or God forbid you touch his face, it has his knees giving out. He loves feeling your weight on top of him, loves feeling you're real and that you're with him and not going anywhere. Maybe he sneaks a hand under your clothes if he feels daring, and your attention doesn't shift. It amazes him how he's allowed this, how much access you give him. And over everything else, it doesn't have to be sexual. Casual skin to skin contact did not have to mean anything else; it was just that.

With you he's experienced that not every touch has violence behind it, not every contact has an ulterior motive. So he's so gentle with you, maybe he is not good with words, so he makes up for it. You know he shows his affection in action rather than words, he's not that far from worshiping the ground you walk on. He's specially kind when you know you're vulnerable; he presses kisses to your face as much as he can and to your shoulder blades when he can't. You know he's a big softy since you've pretended to be asleep multiple times as he played with your hair. An more than once you've heard him whisper hushed love confessions he never thought you'd hear. His hands are rough with criminals but you'd never be able to tell by how kind he's around you.

Priority

Jason wants you to know you can count on him for anything, he makes a point of it by telling you multiple times. You ran out of milk? He's buying it on his way to your place Your apartment needs fixing and your landlord won't help? Problem's solved within the hour. Maybe you got terrible cramps, he's there to help you however you want him to. So it's no surprise to you or anyone that the second you're in danger he drops everything else. You're his number one priority.

"Where is she?" He pushes Bruce for information, which he was adamant in not telling him. Knowing Jason, he'd end up acting before he thinks it through, he'd show up unprepared and end up causing a disaster. Or at least that is what Bruce thinks about the son who plotted his revenge against him for years to the last minute detail.

"Jason" He mutters under his breath.

"I swear to God if I find out someone touched a hair in her head because you wasted time-"

"You go with me or you don't" He threatens "at all."

And Jason loves you so much, he's willing to agree to work with him in a heartbeat. He puts all his resentment aside when he thinks it will help you, if it meant working with the bat and abiding by his rules, then so be it. He'll track down the poor fucker who took you and kill him later. He didn't like being around him, it made him feel tense due to the incredibly strained relationship between the two of them. Bruce loved Jason, but sadly his way of showing it translated quite the opposite way in the younger one's eyes.

Bruce was being too quiet about what happened to you. All he knew was that he couldn't reach you, you were not at any of the usual places, and your friends had no idea where you were either. He checked your apartment and things were perfectly placed, no one had broken in--other than him. Then when he tracked your phone, which he only promised to do in extreme situations like today, he found it inside your purse thrown in some dirty alleyway. That's when his panic hit its peak and turned back to get his red hood gear and ask the bats if they knew anything about you.

He got to a warehouse, standing next to Bruce he decides to push him a bit more to get anything out of him. His mind was killing him with questions, were you okay? what happened? how did he know? and couldn't bear another second next to the stoic figure not willing to tell him anything.

"It's Mad Hatter, he's been taking people off the streets for-"

"Is she okay?" He cuts off, he has no space in his mind for whatever crazy thing he had planned against Batman or the city. Not when he's not sure you're safe, when Bruce won't even tell him if you're alive.

"She should be" He gives in "I'll take care of him, you handle hostages"

That's all he needs, he braces himself before following after Bruce, watching every step he made as it could make the difference between losing you or saving you. Jason's a bit pissed he's relegated to hostages much like he was during his time as Robin but decides against questioning for now. He steps and breathes as quietly as he can while he makes his way past the sign that reads "Wonderland". He silently signals to Bruce that they should split and cover more ground, to which he agreed with a curt nod. His masks allows him to have a better vision in the dark, so he can see how filthy the place was and how worn down the wonderland decorations were. He doesn't know if the man was there, but knowing Bruce he sent him on a path he wasn't likely to find him alone.

He finally finds some of his hostages, two twins laying unconscious on the floor. He tried waking them up to no success; he saw their chests move up and down as they breathed, so he knew he could worry about that later. Moving further, he sees a couple more people, all dressed up as characters like the twins were, in the same state. He then moves to the tea party, where another two kids dressed as the animals in the book sat with their heads on the table. He picks one of them up and rests them in a more comfortable position on the floor using what he could to make a cushion for their head, then does the same with the other kid. He thinks it's the least he could do if he couldn't wake them up. After a nerve-wracking walk through Lewis Caroll's nightmare he finds you, he feels his soul getting back to his body when his eyes finally land on you.

You lay on a floor that resembles a chessboard wearing a white dress and a crown, a little blonde girl with a light blue dress is cuddled up on your arms. He kneels down next to you, whispering your name and grabbing your shoulder to shake you in an almost desperate attempt to wake you.

"Please, please" He's sure if someone could hear how pathetic he sounded, his reputation would be ruined forever.

"Jay?" You manage to mutter under your breath, still not opening your eyes.

"Yes, I'll get you out of here"

"Hm, hats" you hummed, he doubted you were even aware of anything.

"I know, baby"

"off" Your voice was low and it seemed to him that you were fighting to stay awake and losing.

He took off the crown from your head and the headband from "Alice's". Listening to your advice, even if you were barely conscious. Once he confirmed you were okay, he carried you out. Then he came back for the little girl next to you, and so on until everyone was out and hat free. By that time police had arrived, and Batman was handing Jervis' ass to the cops to begin the cycle once more. He holds back, watching from afar to avoid getting caught. He watched as Batman shared a few words with Gordon, then Barbara tuned in to let him know which hospital they were taking you to.

When you wake up he is next to you, holding your hand and with the biggest eye-bags you've ever seen him with. He almost starts crying when you call his name in a hoarse whisper.

"I'm okay,"You whisper, wrapping your arms tightly around him. The scene is too touching as you see someone put a hand on his shoulder and tell him something.

"I'll go tell the doctors you woke up" He excused himself, reluctant even to let go of your hand, much less entertained by the idea of being separated from you too long.

You didn't see him as Jason's frame covered the man behind him but now you notice the one and only Bruce Wayne standing in your hospital room. It was too much to take in.

"Oh, Jason must really love me if he was willing to work with you"

[themultifanshipper]

Really, even though you were friends, the last thing Logan should be asking the Williams HR representative about, in her office, is sex.

Warnings: oral, petnames, lots of petnames

Based on true events that happened to me last week. Only difference is it was in my appartment, and I didn't actually come.

Do I use too much italics? Probably. Do I care? Not one iota.

So yeah, this was probably breaching several clauses in both your contracts.

But Logan came into your office, looking a bit sheepish, and sat down on the grey sofa in the corner without a word. You just stared at him, waiting for him to say something, but he just avoided your gaze.

"What can I do for you Logan?"

He didn't answer, just squinting at the floor, contemplative.

He came into your office quite often. Probably more than was strictly appropriate but after all, you used to be on the media team and had become friends with most of the drivers during your years at williams. Usually Logan and Alex (and occasionally others who "happened to be passing by") would come in for a chat, generally cheerful or angry or sad, depending on the kind of day they were having.

Today however, Logan was fully silent.

"Logan?"

He squinted again, this time at you, trying to figure out how to say what was on his mind.

"Lo, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong"

He took a deep breath before responding.

"So you know I'm a virgin, right?"

You, in fact, did not know that. You didn't think you were that close a friend, although you didn't exactly mind. It was just a bit sudden.

"What?!"

"Well technically I had sex once but it went really badly. And I haven't had any practice since, because I'm scared of picking up girls because I don't know what I'm doing and I'm an F1 driver so I'm supposed to be having loads of sex but imagine I'm really bad and it got out, it would be super embarrassing and I'd have to ask you, my friend, for an NDA about bad sex, which is just another level of weird and I'd hate for you to stop tal-"

"Logan!"

He stopped ranting and looked at you, obviously feeling rather vulnerable.

"Logan... have you just come into my office to tell me you're inexperienced at sex?"

He pursed his lips and frowned.

"Yes"

"Okay.... why?"

"Because I want you to teach me how to pleasure a woman"

He looked you straight in the eyes, with way too much confidence for someone who was suddenly eligible for a lawsuit.

You raised your eyebrows at him. "Logan, couldn't have waited until... oh I don't know, until we weren't in our workplace to ask me for sex?"

"Um... I guess?" He had the audacity to look embarrassed. "I'm sorry if I read this wrong. Do you uhh- not want to?"

You studied him for a second. What the fuck. It wasn't that the idea was unappealing, he was an attractive young driver with probably incredible stamina. Which is why you found the idea of him being inexperienced so odd. And why was he asking you for... guidance? A lesson? It was weird to think of him as anything other than your friend slash coworker Logan, who you had now known for nearly two years.

If someone had told you this morning that this is how your day was going to go, you would have told them to fuck off and gone back to sleep. You realised you must be taking too long to respond when Logan sighed and rubbed his face.

"Okay nevermind, I'm sorry I brought it up, we can just- pretend this conversation never happened"

He sounded almost sad as he got up to leave but stopped as you blurted out "No, wait!"

He stared at you questioningly.

"I'll do it" You sounded breathless "I'll teach you- how to do uhh... sex. With me."

His eyes lit up as he laughed "I hope you'll be more articulate than that "

"Oh fuck off" you hit his shoulder in retaliation "You're the one who looked like you were going to shit a brick when you walked in here!"

"Hey! That's a low blow" He pouted.

The atmosphere became more comfortable with the bickering but there was still an undercurrent of nervousness. He took a couple of steps towards you and leaned in but you stopped him with a hand on his unsurprisingly firm chest.

"You want to do this now?" You hissed "Are you fucking mental?"

He pouted again "why not, the bosses aren't here today, it's just us, and the engineers are working on the cars" He wiggled his eyebrows.

Well when you put it that way....

Fuck's sake.

You leaned in slowly, as if aiming for his mouth before swerving at the last second and pecked him on the cheek before whispering in his ear. "Lock the door for me will you, darling?"

His eyes darkened "Yes ma'am" and he turned away to lock the door.

You sat down on the sofa and spread your legs, beckoning him over and silently motioning for him to kneel between them. He did so and put his hands on your thighs, then looked up at you expectantly.

Oh, right. You were supposed to be teaching him.

"Okay so first you're gonna want to get me naked"

He giggled at your obvious statement before hooking his fingers into your waistband. "Sure thing, princess" Pulling them down and off, underwear soon following as he let out a breath, eyes and hands roaming over your newly exposed skin. "Shit, you're already so wet." He looked up at you again.

"Can I?" He asked.

So polite.

"Be my guest" you smiled at him as he lowered his body. He kissed the inside of your thighs, slowly inching towards where you needed him most. When he got there, you let out a strained half-sigh half-moan as he licked a stripe from your taint to your clit. The noise made him look up as he licked his lips, eye contact making you shiver. He then spread your thighs further and immediately buried his face between them like man starved, making a valiant effort to find your clit with his tongue.

"A bit lower- lower- a bit right. Wait no, your right"

He followed your instructions dilligently and when he found it, he sucked on your clit with fervour, which made you gasp and let out a shaky moan. "There, right there." as your right hand weaved itself into his hair.

Eyes on yours, he blinked up at you and you nodded to tell him he was doing a good job. Satisfied, he carried on, closing his eyes in concentration.

You grabbed one of his hands and started licking at his fingers, it startled him a bit and he looked back up at you, still surprisingly efficient with his mouth. The sight was absolutely sinful, blonde hair a mess, eyes blown wide, tongue out, working over your flesh. When you sucked one of his fingers into your mouth, straight down to the knuckle, he groaned, the vibrations making your hips twitch. You slid a second finger into your mouth, then a third, ensuring they were nice and wet, then pulled them out. "You can start putting them inside now".

He put the first one in, reaching so much deeper than you could manage on your own, all the while still lapping at your clit. You were so wet it didn't take long for a second one to join as he pushed them in and out gently.

"Okay now sort of hook them upwards" you showed him the movement with your own hand and he nodded, hooking his fingers and it felt so good you moaned quite loudly, hoping none of the engineers would be passing by your part of the building. He put a third finger in and the stretch was delicious as he pressed upwards again and flattened his tongue over your clit.

You could slowly feel an orgasm building and he felt you clench around his fingers, going slightly faster with both his hand and mouth.

"Oh god whatever you do, do not stop!" You panted above him as he used his other hand to hook a leg over his shoulder and he sat up a bit, changing your position slightly and making his fingers hit even deeper inside you.

"Fuck!" You clenched around his fingers as you came hard and he slowed down, helping you ride it out for a while before you had to physically push him off because he wanted to seemingly carry on forever.

"Geez Lo, give a girl a minute, yeah?" You laughed, a bit out of breath. You felt boneless as Logan started kissing his way up your body and finally sealed his mouth over yours. His face was sticky, and your hands went to his hair and pulled on it, making him groan into the kiss. You pulled his head back and he whined, his hips bucking against the sofa, searching for some relief. You lifted an eyebrow at him.

"Please" he panted. You glanced down.

"Need some help down there, soldier?"

He grinned, lopsided. "Sargeant, actually"

Oh yes, you were going to have some fun with this one.

[daydreams-after-dark]

Hiya! I think I found the "ask" button! :D I'm dropping my favourite suggestion here, hehe...

You could write about a bad cop/good cop Han/Minho (Han being the good cop and Minho de bad?) And of course, ending in an endless make out session and "fuck-time" in the interrogation room.

Have a bood day/night/afternoon! ♥

This scenario is a fucking dream!!! Thank you for putting this idea to me. I love it. I love it so much. I hope my take on it is to your liking 😘😘😘

I’ve had a few police officer!skz asks and I’m having so much fun imagining all the filthy things that are being sent my way.

I’ve already written sub police officer Han here.

CW: detective/interrogation role play (not established or clarified, but as the writer I’ve decided that is what’s happening), CNC (established off-screen and not referenced in the story). Implied established safeword (not used). Unprotected rough sex, oral sex, orgasms.

🚨🚨🚨🚨

"TELL US!" Detective Lee practically spits in your face. "You know where they're hiding, and you're going to tell us right now." He leans in close to your ear. "Or else." he adds venomously, then stands back against the cinder blocks of the interrogation room, arms crossed.

"Look, Miss." The other man, Detective Han, sighs. "Just tell us and your sentence will be reduced."

"I'm scared." You say desperately. "What they'll do if they find out I-"

Lee scoffs and you pout, turning back at Han.

"We'll protect you." Han almost reaches across to hold your hands, but the weight of Minho's stare makes him think twice. “All you have to do is give us a location.” He says softly.

You shake your head and wring your hands together.

“I think she’s going to need a special kind of convincing.” Lee raises an eyebrow.

Han slowly turns his head towards Minho. “Detective. I’m not sure that’s style of interrogation is appropriate.”

“Well where has being nice got you?” He retorts, storming over to you and pulling you up roughly by your flimsy satin top.

"Now, little Miss," he growls slamming you against the one way glass, holding your arms behind your back and pressing himself against you. You can feel his erection against the top of your ass. "Just tell us the location, and all this stops.”

You turn to look over your shoulder, giving him doe eyes. “I’m never gonna tell you the location.” You say firmly.

The corner of Detective Lee’s mouth twitches slightly. “So that’s how you’re really gonna play, huh?”

He drags you back, bending over the cold, metal interrogation table. “Han. Handcuff her.” He demands, tossing his handcuffs to his partner.

Han looks down at the cuffs in his hands, hesitating momentarily before cuffing your arm to the table leg. He moves around and cuffs your other hand to the opposite leg. You pull and tug, but it’s no use.

“Now check she’s not hiding anything she shouldn’t.” Lee adds tugging your jeans and underwear down your thighs, exposing your ass and pussy.

Han gulps and moves behind you. He strokes your back gently, and leans over you. He’s fucking hard too. “Just be good and do everything he says. Try to relax, baby. Okay. Don’t be a brat.” He soothes as his hand cups your pussy. “You’re doing great. So wet already.”

You suck in a breath. You’re turned on. No doubt about it. You close your eyes as Han slides a finger into your cunt. “Have to check you aren’t hiding anything you shouldn’t. Shhh…. Stay calm. It’s all going to be okay.”

He inserts another finger, sliding them in and out of you. Wet sounds immediately fill the interrogation room.

“I’m gonna check your pretty little mouth.” Minho forces your mouth open with his hand and shoves two fingers inside. “Suck on them.” He hisses. You do as you’re told, sucking on the detective’s digits. He removes them before sitting back down to enjoy the show.

Behind you you hear Han unbuckling his belt, then the sound of a zipper. “Shhh… you need to stay quiet, okay. So you don’t get yourself into more trouble.” Han whispers, but his voice is strained. The tip of his cock slides through your dripping folds several times, before he pushes it deep into your pussy.

“Ngh��fuck!” You gasp.

“Now, what did Detective Han say, hmm?” Lee leans forward in his seat and pulls the hair off your face. “If you can’t be quiet I’ll have to put something in your mouth to make you quiet.”

But you can’t stay quiet. Han is fucking into you hard. Each thrust pressing you into the cold, hard table. He’s hitting you deep too. The kind, sweet Detective Han isn’t holding back. His fingers dig into your hips, and his body slaps against yours loudly.

“Has she hidden anything in her cunt?” Lee asks Han.

“I’m not hiding anything, I promise!” You cry. Minho raises an eyebrow, unamused. “I wasn’t asking you.” He snaps and looks towards Han.

“She is.” Han grunts.

“What?!” You lift your head in protest. “No!”

“Tsk tsk. Now you’ve made me very angry.” Lee says low. He stands and undoes his trousers too, revealing his thick, hard cock. You swallow hard. You’re nervous. But you’re also excited.

Lee steps towards you and tilts your head in such a way that he can rub the tip of his cock along your lips. “You’ve got such a filthy, lying mouth.” He whispers. “It’s gonna feel good around my dick.” He holds your head steady as he fucks your mouth. He’s surprisingly gentle and smooth as Han continues to fuck you rough from behind.

“Han, what’s she hiding from us?” He moans as his cock hits the back of your throat.

“She’s hiding an orgasm.” Han responds. “And, she’s keeping all this cream inside her. Look!” He exclaims pulling his dick out and showing Lee.

The mean detective looks down at you like you’re pathetic and smirks. “Show her.” He snarls, withdrawing his cock from your mouth.

Han comes to stand in front of you, and you see how creamy and wet you are. His cock is covered in it.

“You have to clean it. It’s all gonna be ok. Just do as we ask. You’ll be fine.” Han looks at you with soft eyes. “Now…all you need to do is clean it up. Okay?” He pushes his cock into your mouth. He pushes in further and you gag. “Shhh…That’s it. That’s it.” He encourages you.

Your eyes water because he pushes in so deep, and he takes his time to pull out, making it hard to breath. “Yes, you’re doing really well.” He praises.

Lee’s behind you now, slapping your ass. The sound resounds around the room. He slaps you again and you sob around Han’s cock.

“That’s for not cooperating with an interrogation.”

Another slap. “That’s for hiding your arousal.”

One more slap. “Now you’re gonna come for us.”

He slides into your heat and your eyes roll back into your head. He pulls out almost to the tip and pauses. You clench in anticipation, then he slams back in.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come. Let me come in your mouth and I’ll promise I’ll put in a good word for you.” Han’s breath is shaky, and his thrusts stutter. “Catch it all for me…ngh… I’m coming.” Han throws his head back and moans as his thick cum coats your throat.

He plonks down on the chair, panting.

“Finally some cooperation.” Scoffs Lee, pounding into your pussy. “Han. Release her arms.” He orders his partner.

You’re swiftly uncuffed and your flipped onto your back. Lee pushes your legs up and squeezes his dick back inside you. Han’s at your side kissing and sucking your nipples. “You’re doing good. I’m proud of you.” He nibbles your breasts as his hands explore your body.

Lee brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing firm, rough circles on it. You close your eyes savouring every sensation that the detectives are making you feel.

You’re not on a cold metal table in a dingy little room. You’re floating, soaring higher and higher. You’re going to fall apart any second now. The tension inside you is about to snap.

Han’s lips find yours. Soft, gentle, kind. “I love it when you’re a bad girl.” He whispers and slips his tongue into your mouth.

It’s your undoing and you whimper as you clamp down around Lee’s cock.

“Fuck!” Growls Lee, pulling out and spurting ropes of cum on your stomach. He steadies himself, staying buried inside you until his cock softens.

“Now. The location. Give it to us.” Minho presses as he pulls his trousers back up.

“Please?” Han looks down at you.

“I said never.” You whisper defiantly.

Lee sighs. “Fine. We’ll be back in an hour to interrogate your further.” He says flatly, and he and Han leave the room, locking the door behind them.

Read unrelated sub police officer Han ask here

Read unrelated ot8 free use jail cell

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[volturissideslut]

Hi! Just read your Marcus x reader fic where they get compared to Didyme.

I was thinking maybe a Poly! Volturi comparing Reader to their ex/late partners and Reader shuts down. They don't mention it, but it really hurts cause they've always been a replacement, so they leave Volterra. The Volturi don't realise for a while.

Feel free to ignore this if it's too repetitive or you've done one like it before.

𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 (𝖕𝖔𝖑𝖞)

Angst, no comfort. Pure angst, literally no fluff at ALL. Bad relationship, couple of swear words in there, let me know if you want a part two of making it up <3

Part 2

It's not like you were the second choice

They had been adament that they wanted you, that you were their true mate

So why were they acting like this now?

After almost a year of being together, they were starting to fall out of the 'honeymoon phase'

Had it always just been a phase? Was this doomed from the get-go?

It started with little snippy comments about acting proper. You were human, not raised in the fine luxury and manners they were, and apparently that showed in your actions. And apparently the way you dress too.

It's like they were moulding you into their exes, it it was making you miserable

And it's not like you didn't try to tell them, you did. Only to be shut down. "Cara mia, I'm working. This is not an appropriate place to discuss this" Aro told you, despite being within the privacy of his study

Caius was no better, in no mood to 'entertain you' and your 'whims' as he put it, brushing you off with a sigh

Marcus, too, was no use, disregarding the emotion and making it perhaps worse by saying that didyme would have taken of the constructive criticism

So there you stood, looking at yourself in the mirror. The big dress, the light makeup, the haircut, even the fucking posture just want you.

And so you left.

Silently, seeing as communicating clearly wasn't an option

How long had it been when they realised you were gone? Three days at least

Honestly, Aro had assumed you were annoyed with them and wanted space, telling his brothers suck. It had never crossed his mind that you had left

I mean, the clothes you wore every day were still there, all the gowns and dresses still in place and -

Where were the clothes you brought with you?

The ones they insisted you wouldn't wear?

Caius walkers into your personal room with a huff, intending to talk some sense into this tantrum you've been throwing, and instead intruding on Aro's realisation

The grounds are searched and Marcus is informed

It is pure and utter panic

Chaos as they look for you

Demetri was called back from his mission early to search for you and you were in another country

Marcus was practically having heart palpitations, he can't lose another mate. "Why would she do this, Didyme would never scare me like this"

And he pauses

So does Aro

And so does Caius

And for the first time, they truly hear themselves

Caius is the first one to remember you bringing it up. "Did she talk to you about it too..." the proud kings' voice is for once delicate and quiet

"... I made her leave" Aro practically folds in half, having to grip over where his hear would be in his chest and lean over because of the burning sensation. It aches, it physically aches him to know he messed up this badly - he didn't give you the time of day

"... I told her I don't have time for this" Caius' fist is buried in his hair, gripping in stress and nearly ripping the strands out of his head. His hands are jittery, shaking, and his hair is tussled - a perfect relection of his inner turmoil

"... In the very moment she asked me not to compare her to Didyme anymore, I told her Didyme would take the criticism" is it possible for vampires to be sick? Because I think Marcus is about to be. His eyes sting and he makes a gagged choking noise like he's dry heaving. Like his fight or flight has chosen freeze and the rising anxiety makes his stomach churn

A knock on the door is what pulls them away

Instead of coming to the turbulent kings and taking them with him, it seems Demetri picked you up on his way back instead and brought you right to them.

There are bags under your eyes, and your skin is sickly. Your cheeks are stained with dried up tears and your eyes are bloodshot like you cried so hard you broke a vessel

They rush toward you and Demetri takes that as his cue to leave

Marcus ever so gently holds your face, eyes scanning you for any physical harm, and when he finds none he feels so much temporary relief he almost collapses into himself. "Thank goodness you're okay, I couldn't bare to lose you-"

"what, like you did Didyme?" you spit back with more venom in your voice than their combined fangs have ever produced in their millennias of life

"No, no" Caius' voice has never been so gentle, he takes your hand in his and places a kiss to the inside of your wrist

"Oh, so I'm gone for three days and suddenly it's about me and not your exes?" there is spite in your voice, but it still wavers with how upset you are

Exclaiming "three days?!" was a big mistake on Aro's part, but in that moment he was so full of concern he hadn't realised it would only worsen the situation

"... You didn't know?" and the look on your face is absolutely heart shattering

And they have no words, nothing to say. Because there is no words, and there are no excuses.

"I was gone for three days, and you didn't care enough to notice?!?" your angry now. And you have every right to be. But they have no idea how to fix what they've done

[nelkcats]

And they were roommates

After years of living on his own in the Infinite Realms, something strange began to happen to the retired hero. Every time Danny closed his eyes to sleep, a life that was not his own played in his head. And he began to see memories of someone who had passed away, from his birth to his death. That would be fine if he didn't remember the dreams in such detail.

Unfortunately when the first dream kept repeating itself continuously, and Danny investigated, he discovered that it was not a normal nightmare and was the life of someone real. Someone who wanted a closure.

Every time he woke up, he found himself feeling the same as in the dream. Which led him to do a couple of things: yell at Nocturne (who strangely had nothing to do with it), annoy Clockwork (who was definitely involved), and solve crimes that had been deemed "impossible", and bring them to an appropriate end.

The police were extremely confused when a note from "Sleepy King" was next to the evidence of a cold case. The truth is that Danny wanted to sleep, and the souls were extremely insistent about their 'unfinished business' that came to haunt him in his sleep.

Every time he cracked a case he earned a few hours of uninterrupted sleep or downright disturbing memories, but that wasn't enough. Unfortunately, it seemed that solving the cases was only attracting more souls, and he was starting to regret wanting to help. He had ended his life as a hero for a reason.

Usually his notes to the police would say something along the lines of "I'm doing this for me, not for you, good night" or some similar nonsense. The halfa was tired, very very tired, dreaming with memories wasn't fun or pretty, it was exhausting, the deaths made his skin crawl and his insomnia worse. He didn't want to relive the deaths of anyone else, but he had no way to scare away the souls.

When Martha Wayne showed up in his dreams showing him about a "court of owls" Danny made up his mind. This had to stop. He had been a hero but he retired. And it wasn't that he hated the souls, he just wanted to sleep, the mental exhaustion was too much.

So he did the stupidest thing possible: he hired Constantine (pretending to be a fairly normal human client, getting his attention after offering a lot of alcohol and some useless books from the Realms as payment) to make him a dream catcher or some wizard thing. All he wanted was something to help him sleep.

Constantine couldn't do that of course. The hellbazer was disturbed by the man with more than three hundred avenging spirits swarming. That was fucked up. So he offered him the only solution he could think of: inviting him to sleep at his house. A place where spirits could not pass without permission. It wasn't a permanent fix, but it would work for a while.

John had no idea why he was doing so much for a client (inviting him to his house? bold move), but the man looked so desperate, and he was fucking cute. If he could get an adventure or two out of it he wouldn't complain.

Constantine's guest bed felt like heaven to the halfa, despite being almost destroyed. Danny repeatedly thanked, and before they both knew it: they were roomies, lived in the same place, took turns cooking or cleaning, etc. They grew comfortable with each other to the point that Danny answered Justice League Dark's calls on a few occasions.

And well, if Constantine stopped rushing to find a long-term solution that was his business, and his alone, okay? Zatanna's comment asking when he got married was fucking out of place.

[haologram]

how to be a latin lover ♡ h.js (teaser)

♡ synopsis: the dreadful semester has started — meaning your summer vacation has come to end, and so has your summer fling…or has it? ♡ genre: summer fling au ; big dummy dumb idiots to lovers ; ta x student dynamics. ♡ pairing: spanish ta!joshua hong x chaebol!fem!reader | side pairings: lee chan x jung haerim (weki meki) ; wen junhui x lee saerom (fromis_9) ♡ word count: 2.4k | full fic: tba because i don't fucking know. ♡ rating: 18+. minors do not interact, i beg. ♡ warnings: honestly, a little toxic if you squint. lots of pining. hella slow burn. [official warnings: joshua and y/n are absolute idiots. i'm talking the dumbest mfs you've ever encountered, you'll want to scream at them through the screen.] ♡ what to listen to: otro atardecer - bad bunny, the marías ; get to you - mac ayres ; more to come.

Friday, September 16th.

It'd been a little more than a week since you met with Joshua in the library.

And since the two of you officially acknowledged that you'd slept together. What you didn't know was, while he was having his own feelings about the history that weighed the two of you down, he wasn't going to force you to return his affections. In fact…he even felt a bit silly, liking you so much off of three weeks of getting the full experience of…well, you.

Better yet, he wasn't even going to tell you there are any residual feelings on his end. If he knew anything, it was you and your type. If he came off too strong – flowers, a date, chocolates and the like, he'd scare you off even more. You were skittish, like a deer, and he had to either slowly gain your trust…

Or irritate the living hell out of you every chance he got.

Subtle flirting, double entendres, maybe the occasional lingering look. He knew that if he wanted a chance, and man did he want it – he was going to have to work for it. No problem, though. You were definitely worth the wait.

"So, as you can see, the proper conjugation is hablar, not hablando." His laser pointer is steady at the bottom of the projector screen, and he looks up to see half of the class staring intently and the other half jotting down notes. You were neither of the two – your head was resting on Chan's shoulder, eyes low. He cleared his throat, your head jumping up and a wince crossing your features.

Joshua knew Chan was really no threat. The fraternity really liked him, and he was set to move in this weekend. According to Chan's Instagram story, you'd been at his dorm the night before helping him pack up. Saerom had also been there, and Soonyoung – another Beta Tau member. You had been holding a can of Red Bull and in one of the following videos, you were shotgunning another.

"Any questions?" He calls out, and Haerim shoots her hand up. "Yes, Haerim?" "Since this is a conversational class, how would we ask someone out? Or, for their number?"

The classroom fills with childish snickering, and Joshua just smiles as he shakes his head. "Well, I-" "I don't think this is an appropriate question, to be honest." Your voice is heard from the back of the classroom, and Haerim turns in her chair, a wicked smile crossing her lips as Joshua rounds the desk, perched on the edge of it. "And why not, Y/N?" She asks, and Joshua can see you shift uncomfortably in your chair.

"This is Beginner Spanish Conversation, not Coffee Meets Bagel. Flirt on your own time, at your own pace." You scoff, and Haerim's smile only grows wider. It's like she knows something about you, and Joshua notices you begin to bristle slightly. "Why are you so uptight about it, Y/N? It's just a question." "I'm paying for this class, as is everyone else. I think I'd like to appreciate my money's worth by learning something I'll actually use." "Alright, ladies. Honestly, Miss Y/N is partially correct. This is not Café y Rosquilla, but I do think that this is…a learning moment. Asking someone out does involve conversation, you know." Joshua attempts to diffuse, but he can see your subtle annoyance at his siding with Haerim. "So, for example, if I wanted to ask out…" He looks around the room, before a flash of diablerie crosses his eyes. "If I wanted to ask out Miss Y/N, I'd have to make conversation. I'd say…eres muy bonita." "Yeah?! What else?!" You hear Myungjun shout from the far left side of the room, and you can feel Chan's knee bumping yours. You scowl at him, earning a smile as he hides in his hoodie. "I'd say…" Joshua scans your face, and he knows you're probably embarrassed. Embarrassed, but enjoying his subtle attention. He pushes off the desk, pacing in front of the students. "Hm, I'd probably say I like her dress, or me gusta tu vestido."

He watches you cross your legs, tucking the extra fabric of your black dress under your thighs. "Okay, but how do you ask her out!?" Haerim interrupts excitedly, and Joshua is on the first step of the stairs before he catches your eyes again.

"You don't just ask someone out flat out like that. You build repertoire, you make conversation." He rolls his eyes playfully, and you think you're about to get off without any further embarrassment when you hear Chan speak up next to you. "How much repertoire can you even build at this point? Psychology says it only takes two minutes to decide if you like someone." Joshua sees you gape at Chan, before pinching his bicep. Chan pouts in your direction, rubbing his arm as Joshua holds back a laugh. "Psychology also says that there are five components to figuring out if we will have a crush on someone. Physical attraction, proximity, similarity, reciprocity and familiarity. Miss Y/N is very pretty, so physical attraction is checked off. Proximity is also checked, as we see each other three times a week for this class." "What about similarity?" Myungjun pipes up again, making you sink lower in your seat. Joshua is enjoying making you squirm a bit, and he steps up a few more. "Hm, I think that's something I'd have to figure out. Tell me, Miss Y/N, do you enjoy…long walks on the beach?" Your eyes are full of fire, and you'd be almost scary if he didn't notice the way your lip wanted to twitch into a smile. Haerim shouts for you to answer the question, making you send her a scornful look – and she just sticks her tongue out at you like a child. "I do…enjoy long walks on the beach."

"What a coincidence, so do I! Now, we have a similarity. Miss Y/N is familiar, because again, I do see her quite often. Now, it's about reciprocation. This is when you ask the question, this is when you try and make a move." "Shua, how do we make the move!?" Chan asks, and you kick his shin, about to tell him to shut up when Joshua finally reaches your row. He's looking you dead in the eyes, his hand gently wrapping around the edge of your desk. He leans forward, and you can hear the stupid woo-ing of your classmates. "Señorita Y/N, ¿le gustaría salir conmigo?"

Somehow, this all feels like some stupid romcom for the both of you. The class is egging you both on, and Chan is next to you with the most idiotic smile you'd ever seen. You huff, the class is now chanting for you to agree to said…"fake" date.

"No." You say quietly, and Joshua feigns pain. He holds his hand to his heart, a pained expression on his face. "You wound me, Miss Y/N."

He turns to the class, all of which are giving you the dirtiest look ever. "Now, now. This was just an example, don't look at her like that." He scolds, and the class turns back to face the front as he barrels down the steps, checking his watch. 

"Shit, it's already ten past noon. You guys are free to go, and if any of you are taking Psych with Professor Seo Jungkwon, tell him I fulfilled his lecture for the day." This earns a laugh from the class, except you. You're angrily stuffing your laptop into your bag, the class eagerly exiting the room. Chan is holding your arm, apologizing most likely, but you don't seem like you want to hear any of it. By this point, Chan looks a bit like a kicked puppy as he quickly takes the steps down, with you following slowly behind him.

Chan is out the door by the time you make it to the last step, and the classroom is empty.

You arms are crossed as you approach the desk, where Joshua is quietly shutting down the projector. His eyes don't meet yours as he disconnects the machine from the wall, winding the cord up to tie together. "Y/N." He calls gently, and you huff angrily. He bites back a smile.

"Why do you insist on embarrassing me? The first week, it was you running your mouth to my best friend. Last week, you practically held Jeonghan at gunpoint to apologize to me. Today, it's putting me on blast in front of an entire classroom with people I will continue to see for the rest of the year."

"Oh? Was it embarrassing?" He's nonchalant as he looks up, tucking the wrapped cables behind the projector. Your eyes are narrowed, and it seems you've caught onto his little game. "Do you get off on this or something? Knowing you fucked one of your students?" "Hm, not necessarily. And none of what was done was done to embarrass you, per say. It's just decent honesty, and we both know you deserved an apology for Jeonghan's behavior." He states matter-of-factly, making you purse your lips. "What about your behavior? You asked me out in front of all these people!" You gesture to the empty room, and Joshua gives you a small smile. "And you rejected me in front of all of those people. The way I see it, it's a teaching moment."

He's on the same side of the desk as you now, resting against it as you complain. HIs smile seems to be getting under your skin, because you grab his shirt by the collar, pulling his face close to yours before you speak through gritted teeth. "Use someone else as your stupid guinea pig. I don't want to be with you, Hong." You're holding him so close, your lips just barely brushing his. He can't help but scan your face quickly, his hand reaching to brush a stray curl off your face. Your eyes follow his fingers, feeling them tuck the hair behind your ear before he swallows carefully. You can feel your stomach flip slightly as his hand drops, ghosting over your hip as he pushes off the desk, making you slightly stumble back. His fingers grab you gently, pulling you flush to him before his nose is touching yours. "Tell me you don't want me," He whispers, his breath hitting your lips making your lashes flutter closed as you press your lips to his. A whimper escapes his throat as he kisses you back, his grip tightening as your hand lets go of his shirt, your palm resting against his stomach as your other hand holds his waist. The kiss is slow but desperate, your tongue licking into his mouth in the way that drove him crazy over the summer. 

He can't help himself, his hand moving to tangle in your hair, moving his lips down your jaw and exposed neck. A sharp inhale from you as he reaches one of the many sweet spots he'd discovered, a soft whine sounding in his ears making him feel dizzy as he nips at your skin. Pulling back, he holds your face close to his as he speaks again. "Tell me you don't want me, and we can stop this right now. I'll be nothing but professional for the rest of the semester."

He can tell that wasn't what you were expecting. Your eyes are wide and full of mixed emotions, but overall, they flash with a bit of fear. "I…" Your hands move to rest on his hips, a frown on your lips as you let go, and he does the same. His arms cross with an expectant look on his face, and you grimace.

"Stop embarrassing me in front of people, and if you don't have a good reason to talk to me or be near me, don't engage at all." 

He gives you a nod, his smile reappearing as he reaches to wipe your lip gloss from his lips. "That being said, I'm guessing you will not be attending office hours tonight?" Huffing, you look away. "No. I have to help Chan move into the frat house with you and your hooligan friends."

"So I'll see you tonight anyway." He speaks with a grin, and you tongue your cheek. "Leave me alone, Joshua."

You spin on your heel, but his arm is on your elbow before you can walk away. He pulls you back, pulling you into a hug, pressing his lips to your hairline as you hesitantly wrap your arms around him. He speaks against your hair, "One more. For the road."

"Joshua." You groan, trying to hide the giddy feeling spreading in your stomach. He smiles at you, planting a kiss to the tip of your nose. "Just one, and I'll let you slam out of here like we were arguing."

You roll your eyes, but let him slot his lips with yours, the minty taste of him still lingering from the previous kiss. This one is much gentler, the warmth of his body against yours comforting as he pulls away with a chaste kiss. And another. And another.

"You said one." You grumble, swatting at his side to make him let you go. He smiles, his thumb coming to wipe at your lips. Your lipgloss is gone entirely, just glitter remaining. "Mmh. I'll see you later." "Whatever." You pull away from him, and he watches as you slam your way out of the classroom, a few students from your class still lingering in the hallway catching his eye. They look questioning, but he just shrugs as the door closes. He sighs as he looks around the empty lecture hall, a glimmer on the third step up calling his eyes. 

Making his way towards the steps, he sees the gold plating of a seven-pointed star, a message engraved in the back. 

For my brightest star, Y/N.

Picking it up, the diamonds mock him.

He feels slightly stupid to think this is fate, while knowing that once you realize it's gone, you'll be panicking. It seems nothing is really going right for you these days – your car being hit, fighting with Saerom, not being able to stand your ground against him…and now your necklace is 'gone'. He wants to be selfish and say it's because you're being a bit of a jerk to him.

So he'll believe that.

haologram © 2024 || no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[bugs1nmybrain]

Bipolar!Tomura x Reader

Warning: Bipolar Disorder (implied to be type 1), gender-neutral reader, angst, fluff, Shigaraki is mean to the reader, psychotic symptoms, substance use (weed and alcohol), short

note: Shigaraki refers to himself as "being bipolar." I'm aware this is pejorative language, but it made sense for the context of Shigaraki's condition in this story. I also have Bipolar Disorder for reference.

The TV was barely audible over the obnoxiously loud video game music and sound effects coming from Tomura's bedroom. It wasn't like he was ever quiet, but this loud? The neighbors might mistake you two for having a break-in. It definitely didn't help when Tomura would cuss out his screen.

"are you fucking KIDDING ME?! You SCUMBAG CHEAT FUCK!!"

You weren't unused to him talking shit to people on voicechat. It's just he was particularly erratic at the moment. You wanted to check in on him but you weren't sure if that was appropriate. The stabbing decibels would surely blast you away.

Suddenly, all the sounds stop, only leaving the sound of your ears faintly ringing from the absence. It was soon that you smelt..*sniff* .. pot. You hoped he had a fan going and you also wished he'd share. Tomura was already on it though. He opened the door to his room and zipped into the kitchen. With his joint still burning in his hand, he reached up into the cupboard to grab a glass and then a bottle of whiskey. Damn, maybe he should ask for some help?

You watched as he attempted to open the bottle, with his joint in his left hand. His quirk certainly was to be taken accounted for, and he knew it too, because he got too impatient and dusted away the cap, only for the disintegration to fall into the bottle.

"fuck," he said abruptly, but just decided to pour the alcohol in his glass, dust particles included.

"Tomu?" you questioned, watching him try to multitask putting the shit back while smoking his joint.

"Yea, I know, I'll share. Just hang'on."

"Can I help you?"

"Uh.." he spent a moment pondering as if it was a weighted decision. "Here, hold my joint."

You walked over to him and took it from his hands. You contemplated if you really wanted to smoke now, given his state. You knew early on that Tomura had a condition and this wasn't the first time you'd seen him manic. The fact that he wasn't on medication also meant that his episodes could get carried away, and he'd scare you. Not because he was scary...or maybe he was, but you knew it was because he had tripped into a heavy episode.

Tomura turned back to face you when he was done, noticing the joint burn down.

"Why aren't you smoking?" He asks. His tone was normal, though a little jumpy.

"I don't really wanna."

"Why? I don't like smoking by myself. Makes me feel like shit."

"You seem restless."

"Mm, how'd you guess?" He said with a blissfully agitated staring at you.

"Like..you're fast."

"I'm so speedy fast wanna watch me?"

"When's the last time you slept?"

Shigaraki paused and tried to sort through his recent memories but he was unsure. "Uh, maybe..five? Five days ago? I've probably had a nap or two though."

"Maybe we should calm down. Do you wanna watch a movie?"

"Why're you talking to me like a kid?"

"I'm not, I'm worr-"

"Yea I know that, I can tell it's all over your fucking face. Listen, I'm well aware I'm batshit crazy right now but I'm NOT some tragedy, alright?"

"I didn't mean it that way," you stood shaking, trying to fight back your eyes watering.

Tomura sighed seeing you standing scared in front of him. He'd been trying to be fine for weeks. Tomura was never "fine," but when he was paranoid, hyper, determined, and careless beyond proper function, it was a major hindrance. Impacted his goals, though he was great at brainstorming when he was manic.

"You meant it. I'm not even like, mad. I don't know why this happens though, you've seen it before, right?"

"I have. Tomura, can I say something without you getting pissed?"

"What?"

"I think you have Bipolar Disorder."

"Oh really? Turn in your psychiatric report because I'm sure I'm many other things too!"

Tomura huffs and plops down on the living room couch. His adoptive father never gave him access to anything like mental health treatment. AFO told Tomura himself that issues of this matter where only problems that could help his passion for destruction. But Tomura would even admit, being manic beyond belief was scary. He heard voices, saw things that weren't there, sometimes his family, and it was a total living nightmare.

You snuck up behind the couch and began playing with his hair gently. He let out a "hm?", confused considering he just raised his voice at you.

"I just say it because I notice patterns. Like you'll be motivated and nonstop for weeks and then super depressive and bummed out. And it repeats over and over. Usually within the same time frames, too. I'm not trying to insult you, but it might explain things, right?"

You ran your fingers through his scalp. It was definitely a while since his last shower, too. His hair was greasy and dry, but you kept touching him. You could feel him relax into your fingers and whine.

"Sounds like bullshit. I'm not taking any pills."

"I'm not telling you to."

"Well, are you leaving or something? Gonna punish me for being Bipolar?

"No. I want to help you."

"Ain't you some fucking hero."

"I mean it. I can tell you're overwhelmed and just need some sleep or something. I'm not mad Tomura, I never was, I just want you to be ok."

His shoulders began to tense and shake a little. He may have been tearing up but you didn't look and he sat silent.

"Can we order pizza and play Mario Kart, instead? I don't wanna just sit. I'm too awake."

"Yes, baby. I can make a pillow fort!"

"Fuck yessss. Um. I'm also really sorry for yelling at you that wasn't cool."

"I understand Tomu."

You ruffled his hair and kissed his head quick before bolting off to grab your phone but he pulled you down to his lap before you could escape! mwah-ha-ha!

"Stay here for a bit."

"You're trapping me!!" You protested.

"You want me to settle down? Then stay."

Tomura rested his head against yours and held you like you were a stuffed animal. Soon, you could feel his body relax and heard snoring. You turned to see Tomura finally sleeping, but decided to sit still and drift off with for the rest of the night.

[runraerun]

Heard a random 90s rock song & it legit got me thinking about Steve & Billy meeting again in their twenties... Like what if s3 never happened? After the fight at the Byers, Billy kept his head down & avoided Steve? I see him as being consumed by a sense of guilt/shame & yet still not being able to apologise until, that is, the day of their graduation when he's suddenly overcome with a need to just get it off his chest. He's been crushing on this guy since he got to Hawkins & he blew whatever chance he had of even just a friendship with him, but it doesn't matter now cos he's getting out of this shithole as quickly as possible, but he can't have this guilt gnawing at him any longer...So maybe he deliberately makes sure he bumps into steve at some point and mutters out a: "Harrington. We need to talk." And sucking on a cigarette like his life depends on it, hands shaking, barely making eye contact, Billy gives the world's shittiest apology. And it feels like his heart's gonna beat out of his chest & Steve's just standing there, staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face, before saying something like: "yeah, man. I'm sorry for that night too." (In my mind either Max let drop something about Billy's homelife or Steve has deduced something's not right). Anyway. Billy finally feels like he's able to breathe again for the first time in months UNTIL steve unknowingly utters the world's most devastating sentence: "I think we could've been friends if, y'know, shit hadn't gone down the way it did...oh well." And steve gives a sort of little grin and a laugh as if what he said wasn't a major deal. "Heard you're headed back to California?" Steve asks, and Billy's barely able to nod, still struck dumb by Steve's previous offhand comment. And maybe someone calls Steve's name and suddenly that's it. The moment is broken & Steve's leaving with a "Guess I'll see you around, Hargrove... or not" and a goofy little salute. And Billy thought he'd feel better. But in fact he feels worse. Because holy shit. Steve just said they could have been friends. And that's gonna haunt him for years....

Cue a few years later and they run into each other in Chicago (listen, the idea of Billy returning to California only to realise it no longer feels like home and maybe it never did consumes me), but yeah. They bump into each other accidentally and holy shit. Steve Harrington. He looks almost exactly the same. Other than the fact he's grown out the mullet and holy shit, are those highlights in his hair??? And billy's stunned by what looks like a genuine grin of delight that crosses Steve's face once he recognises who he's walked into. And maybe they chat for a little while; Billy doesn't even know what he's saying he's so in shock at meeting his highschool crush again. But just like the last time someone calls steve's name and of course steve has a girlfriend, of course he does (joke's on billy, cos it's just robin) and suddenly the moment's broken again and steve's walking away with a casual "it was good to see you again, billy" and billy is gripped with the thought that he can't let steve slip through his fingers again. how many people get a second chance like this? he can feel his old highschool crush flickering back to life where it's buried deep in his chest and maybe steve will never like billy like that but holy shit. billy still remembers the day steve said that maybe they could have been friends if things had been different and things are different now so why not take a chance??? and billy has never felt so brave or so fucking scared in his life as he does when he steps forward and calls after steve: "Hey Harrington! Wanna meet up and catch up properly some time?" and Steve's attention is back on him and goddamn. Billy didn't even realise how much he missed those eyes until now. ANyway!! This got away from me!! But 90s Harringrove pls and thank. Also the song i heard was lightning crashes by live. like the lyrics aren't even that appropriate but there's such a nostalgic feel to it.

oh my god. OH MY GOD.

Anon, this whole message has got me in a chokehold. Like, it’s such a direct hit. 🎯🎯🎯Billy choking on an apology because he’s so painfully unfamiliar with the very concept, the absolute devastation of hearing the potential of being friends with Steve was there, but he blew it, the PINING… urgh. How Steve can unknowingly fatally wound Billy just like that.

AND THEN THE HIGHLIGHTS ARE YOU JOKING?!

I hope that things get away from you many many more times, because this was incredible.

Okay okay. Now, if I may, I will now attempt to match your freak.

ahem

—

By some serendipitous fuckin’ miracle, Steve agrees to exchange digits with him. They couldn’t find a napkin or any other god forsaken scrap of paper to write on, so they just scribbled their numbers down onto each other's arm. Billy was so fucking on edge that when he was peering down at the pale expanse of Steve’s mole-speckled forearm he damn near forgot his own phone number. Jesus, he’s a wreck…

At least whenever it comes to Harrington, anyway. Dude has like, Billy’s own personal strain of kryptonite woven in through his DNA or some shit. It would explain why his hands always get clammy and his knees feel like they’re made of fucking jello every time Steve flashed those pearly whites his way.

Christ, Hargrove, get it together…

Billy had spent the rest of the week running a finger along the wobbly looking numbers, fading more and more every day. Before they fade completely through, he finally finds his balls and dials Steve’s number.

A girl picks up, which… well, Billy knows Steve has a girlfriend. He didn’t know they’re living together though… but whatever, it don’t change shit.

“Steve around?” He asks, clenching the receiver in his fist so tightly that he can hear the plastic creak.

“Who’s asking?” The girl says, sounding pleasant despite her words. Sandy-haired, freckles. Cute, Billy remembers. Harrington always did go for the cute ones.

“Billy,” he answers, “Billy Hargrove. He’ll know who I am.”

“Oh, Billy,” The girl’s voice draws out his name like it’s an answer to a question that she’d been stuck on. “It’s about time you called.”

Which. That…

What the hell does that mean?

While Billy’s puzzling it out, she hears the girl holler for Steve, telling him Billy is on the line. His name is said with a weird amount of familiarity.

Billy switches ears and shakes out the stiffness in his hand. Focuses on breathing evenly instead of the steady flow of questions suddenly piling up in his head.

“Billy?” Steve’s voice, clear as a bell, asks from the other line.

Billy clears his throat, “hey, man.”

“Hey. I was just about to call you.” Steve says, doing that thing where he so casually drops bombs onto Billy’s world, leveling his cities with a passing word.

“Beat you to it.” Billy grins, and hears the little huff of a laugh on the other line.

“Always so competitive,” Steve teases, and Billy can just hear the smile. It makes his chest ache. It’s the sweet kind of ache, though. “Haven’t you ever heard it’s not winning that matters, it’s taking part?”

Billy shakes his head even though Steve can’t see him and sneers, “sounds like some shit losers say to each other.”

That gets a genuine laugh from Steve, all breathy and sharp, and Billy feels himself laughing along from the sheer thrill of getting Steve going.

“Jesus, I forgot how much of an asshole you are.” Steve sighs, but there’s no heat behind it. Just shit talk. It’s fine. What guys do.

“Yeah yeah. Can’t change my spots, or whatever.” Billy mumbles as he scuffs his boot along the floor. Fucking antsy. Jonesing for a cigarette. Just get on with it you piece of shit. He takes a breath and then takes the plunge. “So listen, we should hang out this weekend. I know a few good bars where we could catch up. Maybe get into some trouble.”

Steve makes a scoffing sound, “what kind of trouble are we talking here, Hargrove?”

His heart jackrabbits in his chest. He loves this part. Billy brings the receiver just a little closer to his lips. “The fun kind, Harrington.” He murmurs, voice pitched low.

There’s a brief, unbearably tense couple of seconds where Steve doesn’t speak. He just lets Billy dangle like a hooked fish. Static from the line. He doesn’t breathe. Then.

“Friday at 8?” Steve tosses the offer out, real casual-like. And with it, Billy feels the muscles around his neck and shoulders relax, like he got shot with a tranquilizer dart. Steve continues, “You wanna meet at the same coffee shop from before? I live in the apartment building just across the street from it.”

Fancy, Billy thinks. Of fuckin’ course. All the buildings on that block are the high end kind; with door men and balconies and working elevators. Billy only ever finds himself in that leg of the city when a pipe bursts or a sink gets clogged and Billy gets called in to fix it. Of course Steve’s living in the lap of luxury here in Chicago. Mommy and Daddy’s only child. Not that it’s his fault, Billy supposed. Some people are just born luckier than others.

“Sure, rich boy,” Billy grins, “bring your appetite though, I’m buying nachos.”

Steve heartily agrees. Because obviously. Who the hell could say no to that? Rich or poor, nachos are nachos.

It ain’t a date. It ain’t. It’s just two guys hanging out, y’know, catching up. For old times sake. Getting into some trouble, like Billy said. It ain’t date.

So what if he calls and asks Heather to pre-approve his outfit when everything he owns suddenly looks stupid on him? And who cares that he dabs double the amount of cologne onto his chest and triple down his pants—Billy likes to smell good, it ain’t a big deal. He wears a silver chain around his neck, the one that matches his earring, and undoes a few more buttons than usual to show it off. It’s cold this time of year but he figures they’ll be inside for most of the night anyway. Drinking, shooting pool, tossing darts. Shit like that.

Billy chain smokes as he waits outside of the coffee shop, sucking back one cigarette after the other, trying not to think about how he’s about to see Steve fucking Harrington again; the one who got away. Or, one one Billy never even fucking had a chance with in the first place, more like. He keeps wondering if he’s making a mistake. If he should just go home, forget he ever ran into that long legged, poofy haired, Bambi-eyed—

But then Steve’s there, handing Billy some froo-froo drink from inside (somehow they’d missed each other???) before he starts giving Billy a hard time for still not having a proper winter coat. Steve’s got highlights in his hair and eyeliner on his lower lashline and a spot of foam from his drink on the tip of his nose and Jesus fuck.

Billy’s in trouble.

[teaboot]

Hi! (just a personal ask. Sorry if it's not okay to ask for advice out of nowhere but I wanted to see an outer perspective and didn't wanna ask my friends. No pressure to answer of course but I would love to hear your thoughts!)

Is it normal for me to feel overwhelmed about something I want? I am just starting med school and it's a lot but I am fighting. And in my culture, parents buy their daughters their like things?? (like towels and bed sheets and a fridge. Anything they can buy except the apartment basically) for marriage from a young age. But my mom just started recently. And when she first bought me something. The idea of getting married & being a doctor (both things I want) felt like too much I teared up. My mom said I was being spoilers I guess?? Like I was ruining a good moment? Of course it is not that serious since I wasn't outright crying, and I just laughed afterwards as I felt silly lol ,but It got me thinking if I was being that dramatic.

This honestly felt like the moment in the movie where the mom hugs her daughter and says something like "oh how much you've grown" . Her retort felt like it was out of the script.

If you find time to answer, please be extremely blunt. Because I know for a fact I have a tendency to exaggerate things.

You are not overreacting. You are not exagerrating things. And I'm going to tell you this, because I experience this, the tendency to downplay your own feelings and recollections of events very often comes from having other people do it to you first. People tell you your feelings are wrong, or stupid, or irrational, and you learn to listen to them instead of yourself.

It makes complete sense that coming up on a major cultural milestone would make you feel excited, or scared, or overwhelmed. It sounds like you came upon the first step of a very big change and the reality of it all hit you at once, which sounds completely normal and expected!

Fuck, *I* used to get that about moving houses, and YOU'RE expecting shit like marriage? Holy fuck! I'd be a complete mess! The fact that you're level-headed enough to ask questions and process your feelings and talk things through is impressive, because I think I'd be losing my mind.

Personal story, but when I turned 17, my mom asked me if I wanted to go to a restaurant to celebrate. When I told her that it sounded nice, but I'd rather have dinner at home with the family, she told me I was a selfish narcissist, and that I was so busy thinking of myself that I didn't consider that other people might have been excited to go out.

At the time, I thought she'd been harsh but ultimately correct.

Now, I see that she had decided what kind of perfect evening she had wanted, and had expected me to play the part in the movie she had written herself. It had never been about what I wanted at all- it had been about her personal desires and expectations.

And it's normal to feel frustrated about things that don't go the way we want or expect, but lashing out at others is not an appropriate way to handle those emotions.

The way we feel cannot be controlled like a machine. The way we feel is usually not a problem. The problem is what we do, and the choices we make based on those feelings.

Children throw tantrums and sat mean things because they haven't learned better yet. They don't have the practice or experience. Adults like your mother and mine should have that on lock, but often don't, especially if culture or tradition or social expectations tell them their actions are justified.

If I had to take take guess, I'd say it sounds like your mom gave you this gift with an idea in mind of how she wanted you to react. She probably wanted you to be grateful and praising and sweet, so she could fulfill the role she envisioned for herself, and when you deviated from that picture, she was disappointed. From that perspective, it would seem that she felt slighted, and that she was owed your gratitude, and you were at fault for withholding it.

This perspective makes sense, in an emotionally immature sort of way, but would completely overlook your feelings, which are just as important.

Your exact situation is not one I've been in before, but if I'm correct in my assumptions (which I may not be) then I'd suggest keeping an eye out for other instances of your perspective and feelings being minimized.

Are you often told you are behaving irrationally? That you're over-emotional? That you're self-centered or greedy or entitled? Are you told that you don't remember things or do things as you're told? That you see problems where there aren't any? That you male trouble where there is none? That certain conversations aren't worth having, or that "you're always like this"?

It sounds like you know that something is off. I'd encourage you to keep asking questions and follow your instincts. At the end of the day, your life is your own, no matter where it came from.

[cannedbeefaroni]

okok giving incel!edward his first blowjob, hed be so overstimulated n he cums so quickly, he just can’t help himself !!

fuck it i'm thinking about this carnally

(gender/sex neutral reader)

it wouldn't matter that he's creepy and sweaty and awkward, you'd need him. he's so jaded he can't even react appropriately to your advances, he just goes quiet and timid, acting as if you're just toying with him. he's so scared of being picked apart: being seen for the perverted freak he is. your first act of intimacy with him was simply laying your head in his lap, which horrified him. so suddenly he was sharing body heat with another person for what felt like the first time in his life. it wasn't intrusive or malicious. your touch was inviting and safe.

so soft. he couldn't think of anything else besides how soft you were. how gentle and sweet you were with him despite how grotesque he had become. his legs were shaking at the thought as his fingers gripped your hair at the scruff of your neck, not knowing what "gentle" even meant, but needing to hold you. his heart stops, hearing you whimper at his grip on you, worried he's done something horribly wrong. though he expects you to pull away, you bury your face into his lap, feeling how his cock hardens in excitement from such simple touches. He doesn’t know if you’re even aware of what you’re doing, until your mouth brushes up over his clothed cock.

It might be way too forward, but he starts quickly undoing his belt with shaky hands. As he unbuttons his pants, yanking them down, he notices you mouth agape as you pull back, staring as he shyly pulls his hard cock out of his boxers.

Yeah? This what you want? he asks, trying to have an air of dominance in his tone, but ultimately sounding as if he’s pleading for you, but you don’t mind, as you wrap your fingers around his dick, replacing his hand with yours.

He’s freaking out internally, fully aware of the fact that you’re the first person to ever touch him like this. Suddenly, he worries if he smells, or if he was being too forward in exposing himself to you. Wincing, he whines as you grip his cock especially tightly. He throws his head back, ashamed in knowing he shouldn’t like this type of pain. His stomach does a backflip as your mouth hangs open, drawing your tongue out as you tease the tip of his cock.

He feels disgusted, as every part of his body knows his dick is repulsive. That probably no one deserved to see it, let alone put their mouth on it. It twitched and throbbed from the gentle torture. As your lips wrap around his tip, something consumes him, and he grabs your hair, thrusting deep into your mouth on instinct. As you gag, he lets go, horrified. He apologizes profusely, knowing he just ruined everything, but he’s shocked when you grab his hand, guiding it back to your hair, as you push your head back down on his cock.

Please, please, please, please, please, he whispers through sharp breaths.

it makes him want to cry: the way you swallow him hole. devouring him as if it gets you off as it does him. he can't look you in the eyes as you stare up at him as if what you were doing was innocent. you pushed him deep into your throat, reaching his base. he gasps loudly, throwing his head back as he thrusts hard. after only a few slow pumps, he's already exploding for you. he freaks out, pulling his cock out, but it's too late, as he accidentally cums all over your face. his orgasm is so intense, it almost hurts. even after it spurting across your face, his tip is still leaking as he grips his cock tightly.

I'm so sorry, he sobs, feeling the shame settle in.

please, hold me, you whine as you pull your head back up to his level. he holds you are your waist tightly, as you crawl into his lap. you wipe your face with the back of your hand before feeling him inching closer. with a shove, his lips press against yours in an attempted kiss. you accept it, kissing him back.

[captainx-camino]

I'm about to be the Internet's most hated person again but, uhhhh...I'm a chronic over analyzer, so, deal with it.

So, Jeremy - and here me out on this - wasn't the cold-blooded murder kid the movie wants you to believe he is.

*insert shocked and horrified reaction here*

Yeah, that one will do....

Anyway...

Okay, so first of all: Jeremy's parents are AWFUL.

His father is clearly an abusive drunk and his mother is clearly a traumatized beaten wife who makes excuses for her husband's abuse.

Jeremy wasn't lying about what his parents were - we can see that through their behavior when they're shown and by small clues in the background of the shot.

His father probably became abusive due to feeling he could no longer fulfill his role in the household and succumbed to drinking to patch his depression.

His mother probably took the brunt of this, causing her to fall into fawning and do the only thing she could do to keep the household together. A very common response to domestic violence is to dote on the child in an aggressively overbearing way - which we see her do.

Additionally, the only person we learn of the incident from is the 'Karen' of the town - who states the boy was bad news. But was he really? Or was he a troubled child dealing with severe abuse at home and escaping into himself?

Was he a 'bad kid'? Or was he just different?

(There are some other points but I have like 10 min to write this so you get what you get.)

Personally, one of the things that really drove home for me that Jeremy wasn't the monster he was made out to be is how he died:

You want to tell me that this "cold-blooded killer" went to his treehouse to hide from the cops after committing his awful crimes? That doesn't sound like some crazed murderer to me - that sounds like a scared child running away to the one place he felt secure.

Which he still does, by the way. As a fucking ghost who has now been trapped in his living nightmare with the two people who probably abused him for 20-some-odd years.

With the given evidence, I shall construct you a possible alternative series of events that makes far more sense than his simply killing his parents...

-Jeremy comes home from school, his dad is already in a mood.

-Mom is baking in the kitchen in an attempt to forget the throbbing in her right eye

-Someone, possibly Jeremy, makes an offhanded remark that unintentionally triggers his father.

-The situation escalates with Jeremy becoming the target of his father's aggression this time.

-the father, already several sheets to the wind, goes after Jeremy in a fit of rage.

-the altercation continues, eventually ending up with Jeremy and his father tussling in the garage.

-Jeremy grabs at his father's abandoned tools in an attempt to protect himself and lands a hit, killing his father.

-Jeremy's mother, a victim of abuse herself, is too traumatized to react appropriately to the situation.

-Because her coping mechanism is to fawn, she reacts negatively towards Jeremy.

-Her first reaction is to scream and panic, asking Jeremy what he has done and believing that he has ruined their family that she has worked so hard to keep intact.

-Her defensiveness causes her to lash out at Jeremy and attack him.

-Jeremy is once again forced to defend himself, knowing no other way of fending her off.

-this altercation also ends in a defensive strike towards his assailant with another convenient item within the room the attack took place.

-After the incident, Jeremy, a child, quickly realizes that he is going to be in trouble.

-Jeremy's first instinct upon hearing the approaching police sirens is not to flee custody, but to hide in his childhood treehouse.

-When authorities inevitably find him and coax him down, he slips, breaking his neck instantly.

-This untimely demise causes him to be stuck in the world of the living with no other contact besides the people who neglected and abused him, causing him to become desperate for escape.

-That desperation was answered by the single person who was able to see him in 20+ years and Astrid just got caught in that crossfire.

I'm gonna say it now because I know how y'all are: This post is not to justify what he did to either of his parents or Astrid. It is simply what I have gathered ACTUALLY happened leading up to Jeremy's death and his possible true motivation to return to the world of the living outside of "ooooOOOOOOoooo so he can KILL AGAIN~" which is frankly just boring.

You don't have to believe it. I am not saying this interpretation is canon.

It's just what I picked up on watching the film.

Do with that what you do.

[donatellawritings]

candy necklace - r. jerimovich

pairing(s): richie jerimovich x f!reader

content warning(s): language, smoking, age-gap, pining

song: candy necklace by lana del rey

The crisp Chicago winter air hit your tender scalp as you exited the taxi cab and ran your fingers through your freshly blown out hair. It probably wasn't the smartest decision for you to wear nothing but a mere hoodie that belonged to him, a skintight t-shirt that barely reached for belly button, and yoga pants that clung to your skin, but hey, it was your day off and the only outfit appropriate and comfortable enough to get your hair done in and pick up your paycheck in. Plus, you were well aware that he would be at the restaurant today, and thankfully The Bear wasn't busy enough, to where he'd have no choice but to drink in your appearance.

Approaching the tall and older man, you shove your hands into the pockets of the sweater, before stopping short in front of him. You watch with your bottom lip between your teeth as he wordlessly takes a pull from his cigarette, and loosens his tie to hang comfortably around his neck.

The two of you stand in silence as Richie taps the bottom of his cigarette, allowing the ashes to fall at his shoes, before raising his eyes to meet yours, "You here for your check?" He asks, his raspy voice like silk in your ears.

You nod, "and to see you," you take a step closer to Richie, catching how his shoulders and jaw begin to relax as the distance between your bodies begins to decrease.

Richie allows his shoulders to fall for a brief moment, before shaking his head and straightening his posture, "You're somethin' else, you know that?" His voice raises.

"Richie-" you begin.

"No, you don't get to fuckin' come here and stand there, when you aren't mine - do you not see how fucked up that is?" He rants, keeping his eyes locked solely on yours as you bring your gaze to your feet.

The brim of your eyes burn with welled tears as Richie's hand grabs ahold of your chin, a gentle yet firm touch. He opens his mouth to speak, but decides against it once you pull away from his touch, with a sniffle, "this isn't fair, you don't get to be upset with me," you hastily wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.

Richie allows his hand to drop this his side as you point your finger at him, "Y-you let me slip away, that was you, not me," you suck in a breath, "I fucking wanted you, Richie, I didn't want to be with h-" you sigh.

Richie's baby blue eyes glaze over as he watches your emotions overtake every inch of you. He wants nothing more than to wrap you in his arms, kiss your hair, and tell you that everything will be okay, even if it won't be. And seeing you in his sweater, oh, that is what gets him. Even though your hateful tears are staining your cheeks, he can't help but feel envy of the way that the fabric of his sweater gets to envelope you, while he remains at a dangerously close, yet existent distance from you.

"Your check is in the office." Richie's voice cuts into you with no warning, his face stoic as you blink away any remanence of threatening tears away. You make your way towards the back door, Richie's hand grabbing onto your wrist, before you are able to open the door. Your eyes meet his as he pulls you into his chest and cradles the back of your head. His lips press a warm kiss to the skin of your forehead as you relax in the confines of his warm and slender arms. You inhale a shaky breath as you take in the smell of his cologne, mixed with the lingering air of his cigarette. Richie presses another kiss to your nose, and to your cheek, stopping right before your lips.

"I want you, I-I fuckin' need you, so fuckin' bad and that shit scares me," he rants as he moves his hand to cradle your face, "I hate seeing you with him, I hate that he gets to come home to you, gets every part of you, I wanted that since the moment I fuckin' met you."

"Richie-"

"No- no, just listen to me baby, I'm sorry, I'm fuckin' sorry." Richie pleads, leaning his forehead against yours as you raise your hands to cradle his face.

"Richie, listen to me." You cry, your lips ghosting against his, "I want you to kiss me, okay?"

And so he does. The moment you ask, Richie's lips are on yours and the two of you are feverishly grabbing at each other's limbs, as Richie pushes you against the brick wall, holding one of your hands above your head, interlocking your fingers. A moan leaves Richie's lips as you softly bite down into the skin of his bottom lip, before sucking on it.

"Come home with me," You mutter, breathlessly, licking over your lips, watching as Richie tightens his hold on your waist, "please, come with me and I'm all yours."

"Fuck." A moment passes, before Richie nods his head, moreso to himself than to you, "Yeah, yeah, anything you want, baby." He rasps, his forehead leaned against yours as his baby blue eyes drink in yours.

Richie's head lowers to your neck, his hand that once held onto your waist, now resting on your neck as his lips find the sweet spot right on your pulse, before softly suckling on the skin. Your head rolls back against the brick wall as Richie continues to work on the flesh of your neck. A soft moan leaves your lips as he softly licks the freshly bruised and broken skin. Richie continues this process for a few more minutes, until he is satisfied, pulling his lips away from your neck.

"I want you to leave him." Richie speaks, wiping the corners of his mouth while he adjusts the cuffs of his black button-down shirt, "you leave him and I'm all yours, I fuckin' promise you that."

A smile tugs on your lips as you slide your arms around the tall man's waist and push yourself to meet his lips, "Anything you want, Richie."

You pull away from Richie, your hands now reaching for the tie that messily hung around his neck, before grabbing ahold of the end of it and beckoning him to follow you inside of the building.

-

and that's all for now! I hope you all enjoyed my first writing, I promise that I have longer writings in the works, but I just wanted to post this, just to get a gist of what it's like to post <;3

feel free to send me any requests!

[thenightfolknetwork]

Hello. I'm, um, not entirely sure how to talk about this. I hope it's okay if I misspeak. I'm a human, right, so I think that needs to be clear more than anything, but I've been very involved in the creature community for years now. I live by a great big lake and I always liked to walk down the shore late at night or early in the morning, you know, just to try and get out of my own head, and one night ages ago I accidentally tripped over someone's jacket and twisted my ankle. It was a gorgeous fur jacket, too, not like any kind of fur I'd seen in a jacket before, but just stunningly soft and thick as Hell.

Now, of course I didn't take it, that'd be awful, but also I had just hurt myself in kind of a nasty way and so it wasn't like I had anything else to do but sit by the shore next to the jacket and waited, and yeah, a few hours later one of the lake seals popped its head out of the water, looked at me for a good long while, and then...well, I mean, you know how the rest of the story goes, I'm sure.

Anyway, it's been a few years now and I've become really close to this family. I didn't really know anyone in my town before meeting them and I'm not on speaking terms with my own folks, so in a lot of ways these people have become my family, and it's an honor that they trust me to keep guard of their cloaks and such when they go out. But I've got this problem, right, and it's just...over the years it's felt less and less like I fit in with other humans. All my friends are nightfolk now, my family hates me even more because they're bigots--in this night and age, can you fucking believe it--and it's just like every night I get further and further away from the shore.

I'm just scared because...I don't *want* to stop drifting away. I've had dreams of joining them down there in the lake, practically every night for months on end. I've tried doing research into methods of joining the community but I don't want to become a vampire, I don't fancy any lunar-aligned nonsense, nothing has felt right except selkies, but I can't decide if I'm just self aware enough that I need a push from an outside viewer to try and accept something I already know full well...or if no, actually, that little voice in my stupid head that won't go away that keeps calling me a fraud, an invader, an appropriator--what if the reason it's not going away is because it's right and I really don't belong?

Just...please be honest with me. Am I a complete asshole for spending hours every day trying not to just outright beg my family--sorry, chosen family--to help me sew myself a cloak, or is there something to this?

First of all, reader, please rest assured. As long as you are speaking from a place of kindness and a willingness to learn, you don't need to worry about using all the correct terminology. I always try to listen generously when people come to me in need, and I encourage our followers to do the same.

Unfortunately I can well believe that bigots like your biological relatives still exist. I'm glad you've been able to extract yourself from their hateful society, and have found comfort, support and kinship among the nightfolk.

You say there is a little voice in your head calling you a fraud, casting doubt on the validity of your feelings. As much as you might want to push it away and stop your ears, I want you to listen to that voice, just for a little while. Pay attention to the language it uses and what ideas it seems to have about the world.

And then ask yourself: is this my voice? Does that sound like me? Or does this sound like a last, desperate, wriggling remnant of the people I've worked so hard to distance myself from?

Every one of us is raised with a narrative, a story about the world and our place in it, and how we should treat the people around us. We're told that story by our parents, by our teachers and schoolmates, by television and books and a million other sources. The story is so vast and so all-encompassing, it takes an enormous effort to be able to see any single part of it clearly.

Imagine, then, how hard we have to work to realise some of that story is untrue, or harmful, fed by hatred and fear. To start untangling ourselves from the rotting, strangling roots of the story we've known all our lives, and start planting something new and fresh and honest.

It sounds to me like this little voice is one of those lingering strands of the story you were raised with – one where liminality is nothing to admire or strive for, and where you cannot be trusted to know your own mind, and your own needs. It's time to tell yourself a better story.

You've found people who honour you with their trust and who make you feel supported and loved, as you deserve. You admire them, and want to be like them. None of this sounds “stupid” to me.

This is not a decision to be taken lightly. By all means, take your time, and talk your feelings through with your family. But I think you already know what story you want for yourself, reader – and for what it's worth, I think the world will be better for its telling.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]