#it will probably come back with more or less force again in a few days. and in a few weeks. and so on and so on

[tortademaracuya]

I have spent more years of my life feeling how I feel than not. I don't think it's ever really going away, that's just part of how I am as a person at this point, and yet I wish I knew how it felt not to at least for a few months.

[narcjsistx]

𝐕𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐇𝐂𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 | sae, shidou, rin (part two)

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

— sae itoshi

✶ Sae seems like someone who actually likes to wear bracelets, rings or necklaces, but can't wear them often due to the matchs he plays, where he would risk breaking them. going back to the basic concept, his gifts would probably be matching jewelry, especially rings... so, in case you were someone who wears them and rarely takes them off, he would try to do the same thing. during matches he would hang the ring on a string that he would put in his pocket or around his neck, kissing it before starting the match or squeezing it after scoring a goal

✶ I don't know exactly why, but beyond the canonical fetish for the ass, I see him as someone who would aim to have a partner with well groomed hands, like nails with polish, smooth and without calluses. he's not a big fan of PDA, the only thing he would do is hold your hand and occasionally leave a prying kiss on the back. in private he is certainly more open, and one thing he loves is massaging his partner's hand; it's a gesture he now makes almost unconsciously

✶ Sae didn't have instagram until he met you, you practically forced him to create an account! he resisted his manager telling him to do the same for a long time, but for you it was only enough once. he just put a profile photo, you had to do it for him the bio and some highlights, about past or future matches. a few days later you opened instagram and noticed that his account had a highlights that you hadn't created, entitled "her": you opened it and there were some photos of you, the ones that Sae considered most important (even if he loves them all). needless to say, your heart was about to explode

what would he post on socials ↓

✶ as a child he may have thought about it a bit, but after joining ReAl he didn't have the time to think about it again. he wouldn't mind having a family sooner or later, but probably after winning the U-20 world cup. two children would be fine, possibly a boy and a girl. he just knows that in some way his children would remind him of him and Rin as lil kids

✶ jealosy level: 5/10

✶ flirtiness level: 7/10 (let's specify, ABSOLUTELY NOT in public, but in private maybe he would indulge in some jokes)

✶ pet names: "amor" / "y/n" / "pretty"

—————————————

— ryusei shidou

✶ even if it doesn't seem like it, Shidou is relatively a normal person as a boyfriend... is there a concept of personal space? not that, but otherwise it's normal. the only "flaw" he may have is that he must CONSTANTLY have his hand touching you when you're together, whether it's a hand on your thigh or an arm around your shoulders: he simply needs to feel you. PDA is no big deal for him: he want to kiss you in front of everyone? he will do it, whatever the cost. if you say he can kiss you after winning a game and it's live nationally, why can't he do it in front of his group of homies?

✶ Shidou seems like someone actually very deep, or at least that seems to be described in some parts of his character sheet. Late night chats are literally the level of mental intimacy he hopes to achieve with his partner... he's someone who doesn't sleep much, so he has a lot of energy and hardly gets tired even after hours of talking. You and him tightly hugging on his bed, lights off and just everything that goes through your head... doesn't everything seem perfect?

✶ you know very well that every time he has a match he makes comments that, let's say, put him in a "bad light", or in any case make him seem less interested in you. before being with you he didn't mind saying things like that on the field, and more or less the same thing has remained since you got together as a couple... BUT THERE IS A BUT! every time, once the game is over and above all won, he makes sure to run to you before even celebrating with his teammates: whether you are in the VIP area or not, he will come to you to kiss you with all the passion he has. let's say he uses his method to reconfirm to the people that he is happily taken

what would he post on socials ↓

✶ GET MARRIED AND HAVE MANY CHILDREN AS POSSIBLE? YEAAAAH. no okay maybe not like that, but on the issue of children he doesn't lie... certainly with the career as a striker he has, he has no problems with money, and therefore with maintaining kids. let's say that for marriage it's different... he doesn't find any sense in it, in reality, he only sees it as something superficial: if he loves you and you know it, why have such a ceremony?. so let's say it's 50/50: he would do it if you asked him but at the same time he wouldn't mind not being married

✶ jealosy level: 1/10 (he trusts you too much to even think about it)

✶ flirtiness level: 10/10

✶ pet names: "doll" / "darling" / "love"

—————————————

— rin itoshi

✶ Rin hides under his serious and calculating gaze a boy who simply needs to vent after everything that happened with his older brother. Before being together as a couple he would never have expected to be able to cry in front of someone, but with you it was all quite natural: it took months and a lot of patience to show him that you really cared about him and that you wanted him to feel comfortable with you, but in the end he let himself go and was finally able to tell someone what not even he himself could explain. he'll never admit it but he believes that was the moment he realized how important you really were to him, and how much he simply wanted someone who could understand him

✶ He has a sort of fetish for seeing you in his clothes: it doesn't matter if the clothes are tight, big or the right size, just seeing you in that black sweatshirt of his or in his PxG uniform is enough to send him into crisis. he can't even explain to you why he likes it so much, but the fact that you're wearing something that smells like him is definitely a valid reason. you once surprised him by showing up at one of his matches wearing a jacket with "rin" written on the back, and we can say that he appreciated it to the point of having to prove it to you in some way: that time the match ended 9-0, goal all marked by him

✶ He may be one of the best if not the best, but after finishing the practice he simply needs to rest with you next to him, even more so if the coach was more unpleasant than usual or he simply did a lot of things wrong due to distraction (which is impossible considering it's Rin). Whether on the couch after cleaning himself or in the shower, while you rub shampoo into his hair it doesn't matter, he just needs to feel your presence

what would he post on socials ↓

✶ as a child he often saw other children playing at being married, but he was never actually interested, also because on the one hand it disgusted him to think of having to be tied to a person forever and kiss them on the mouth. as he's grown up he's changed his opinion, he's definitely the marriageable type and he'd actually like to get married as soon as possible: what's the point in leaving you legally free if you've stolen his heart?. let's say that he has a fairly positive opinion about children, he just knows that they arrive after a certain amount of time after marriage: he would like to have two girls... growing up as one of two brothers, both boys, he knows how boys are more problematic than girls

✶ jealosy level: 6/10

✶ flirtiness level: 3/10

✶ pet names: "y/n" / "love"

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Love and Care.

Pairing: Yandere!Clark Kent x Reader (DC).

Word Count: 4.0k.

Commissioned by the very lovely @distortedhumor.

TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Prolonged Captivity + Kidnapping, Spanking, Psychological/Physical Abuse, Slight Infantilization, and Delusional Behavior.

You were going to freeze to death.

That was – if you didn’t die of dehydration, first. You really weren’t sure which was supposed to work faster; thirst or exposure, the acidic dryness crawling up the back of your throat or the slow, numbing chill spreading up from your toes, your fingertips. You didn’t have to worry about hunger – even if you could feel something sharp and hollow gnawing at the pit of your stomach. You remembered reading somewhere that it took longer than a month for someone to starve to death, even if it was hard to believe that when it felt like you were on the verge of collapsing into yourself.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t been prepared. Admittedly, it’d been an impulsive thing to do, the half-baked result of a door left unlocked and the daunting awareness that you had at least twelve hours before you so much as heard from Clark again, if not the full twenty-four. You didn’t have shoes more durable than house-slippers and the delicate, lovingly polished, Mary Jane heels he liked to see you in, but you’d put on your thickest dress, stuffed a bottle of water and a few slices of homemade bread into knapsack, and started walking into the lifeless, rolling plains that surrounded the rustic farmhouse he kept you in. You didn’t run – he always seemed to know if your heart rate spiked– but you had all day to walk until you found a road, or a phone booth, or anything else that could at least remind you that other people existed. You figured you’d come across something eventually, even if you couldn’t find the help you were looking for.

Except, you’d underestimated just how cold the countryside could get in autumn, and you hadn’t thought to ration your meager supplies until after they’d already run out, and as far as you could tell, he’d found the most vacant, lifeless, desolate corner of the world to trap you within. The hem of your skirt was caked with mud and dust, your knapsack had been left behind entirely after you realized there was no point in carrying and empty bag, and one of your heels had broken off about two miles back – leaving you reduced to a slow, hobbling limp. Your body was exhausted beyond exhaustion, but you couldn’t imagine a world where you stopped walking. The only thing worse than knowing you were going to freeze to death in the middle of nowhere would be knowing that you’d just laid down and accepted it, and if you’d been willing to do that, you wouldn’t have run away at—

Your foot caught on a dense patch of undergrowth, and too tired to catch yourself, you crumpled – your knees hitting the earth with enough force to make you whimper. The last of your perseverance crashed and shattered as soon as you hit the ground, and before you could so much as try to stand up, you fell apart completely. You felt the tears before you realized you were crying – just one, at first, then another, then more than you could ever hope to count. You threw your head forward, sniffling miserably as you collapsed onto your side. You were going to die out here, but…

But, that was probably for the best, wasn’t it? It was either die out here, or die in that lonely farmhouse when Clark finally lost his temper or the roof collapsed or the ‘villains’ he was also so worried about finally did their job and put you out of your fucking misery. With a full-fledged sob, you curled into yourself and clenched your eyes shut, and—

And of course, less than a full second later, you felt a pair of muscle-bound arms your crumpled form, sweeping you off the ground and dragging you into a broad chest. You were too weak to meaningfully resist, but still, you tried to writhe and nudge yourself out of his iron-clad hold to little success. He was already talking, too. Great. On the ranked list of things you might’ve wanted to hear immediately after accepting your own mortality, your kidnapper’s nervous babbling didn’t crack the top hundred.

As if that had ever stopped him before.

“—and I thought you’d gotten hurt, and your pulse sounded so far away, and— and I don’t know what I would’ve done if it’d taken me any longer to find you.” You tuned in mid-rambling, trying to swallow your agitation. He was bent over you, his face buried in your hair, giving his voice an unsteady, muffled quality. For the world’s strongest man, he was quick to fall apart whenever he thought you so much as might be in danger. You couldn’t really judge him for that, though. You fell apart whenever he wasn’t around, too, and you didn’t care about him at all. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? There’s a hospital about fifty miles away, I can—”

“I’m fine,” you cut in, your hands shoving at his forearm where it was barred over your waist. With an airy sigh, he repositioned you – letting you fall into a proper bridal-carry rather a fully-body tackle. You noticed, for the first time, that his feet weren’t touching the ground. He was levitating, a nervous habit that that back into too often to keep track of. He must’ve genuinely thought you were in danger. More importantly, he must’ve known there was no one around to see him doing something so obviously superhuman. “Just a little cold. I‘m sorry for worrying you.”

Another sigh, this one more genuine than the last. For the first time, he drew back, and you were able to see him properly. He must’ve come straight from Metropolis; he was still wearing the suit you’d seen him in that morning, his hair slightly disheveled and his glasses shoved haphazardly into his shirt pocket. You tried to breathe, not to be thankful for how quickly his inhuman warmth was ebbing away the harsher edges of your hypothermia, and for the most part, you succeeded. You felt his lips brush against your cheek, then the corner of your jaw – Clark as affectionate as he was paranoid. “Poor thing,” he muttered, haphazardly shrugging off the jacket of his suit and draping it over your shoulders. “We’ll have to get you warmed up once we get home.”

Despite yourself, you stiffened. It was over - you knew that. He caught you, and even if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been able to go on much longer. You knew that.

And yet, you held yourself that much tighter as you asked, “…do we have to go home right away?”

Clark’s smile softened; his expression slackening is a patronizingly sympathetic sort of way. He didn’t need to answer, not really, but you still cringed when he inevitably did. “Of course, dear.” And then, with another kiss to your forehead. “How else can I keep you safe?”

You might’ve been nicer than him, after all. Rather than respond, you bowed your head and tucked yourself against his chest, shutting your eyes and blocking him out entirely. Clark only hummed in acknowledgement, flying that much higher and taking you home.

~

It took an embarrassingly short time to reach the farmhouse – less than a full minute, if that. It wasn’t what you deserved, but it was what you needed: a reminder that you were trying to run away from someone who didn’t have to run at all to keep up with you. Trying to escape on your own was pointless. You’d either have to find another way to get away from him or give up entirely.

Despite your constant squirming, Clark only put you down once you were inside (meaning, once the front door was locked and deadbolted with you securely trapped behind it), and you stumbled to your feet, still on the verge of collapsing. He let you struggle through all of two steps before taking you by the hand and, with that award-winning smile, guiding you through the farmhouse. “A warm bath should do the trick. Some tea, too – or coffee, to keep your blood flowing.” His eyes flickered down to the mud-caked hem of your dress, your ruined shoes. “It’s a pity. I know that’s one of your favorites.” He paused, squeezed your hand. “We’ll have to pick out another together. Maybe tomorrow, before I leave for work.”

You bit the side of your tongue, nodding along absently and letting him ramble. When you passed the staircase leading to the second floor, to your bedroom, you started to move towards it, but Clark only continued further into the house.

“Uh, Clark?” You dragged your feet as he pulled you into the kitchen. “I— Um, tea sounds nice, but I’d really like to change, first, and—”

“In a few minutes.” Another infuriating smile, another squeeze to your hand. “Do you remember what happens when you break one of our rules?”

You felt something in your throat tighten. You’d managed to forget, but it came back quickly enough. “I do, but— I was out there for a few hours, and I can’t really feel my—”

“We’ll take care of that in a few minutes, love.” He was already moving towards the kitchen table, your hand still trapped in his. “We should get this over with now.”

Trying to argue would’ve been useless. You did your best to grit your teeth, to brace yourself, but your vision still blurred as he finally released you, settling into one of the simple wooden chairs. You crossed your arms over your chest, but it did little to put a barrier between you and his prying gaze. “Do you want to undress yourself? Or, do you need my help?”

Shaking your head, you fumbled with the buttons lining the back of your dress. Usually, you could manage on your own, but your hands were still numb, and you were fighting back tears, and Clark only watched you struggle for a few seconds before motioning for you to come closer. Soon enough, cotton and lace pooled uselessly at your feet, leaving you all-but entirely exposed in front of him. You didn’t need to be told to take off your shoes, kicking them into the depressing pile of fabric that used to be your favorite dress, but when it came to your panties, you hesitated, glancing toward Clark with a pleading look. “All of it,” he confirmed, with a tone bordering on apologetic. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

As if that would make you feel any better.

You sucked in a deep breath, then eased your panties down to your ankles. You’d been wearing one of your nicer pairs – white and silken, with a lace trim around the edges and a ribbon bow that was just slightly too big to be entirely inconspicuous. They were one of Clark’s favorites, even if you doubted you’d ever hear him admit something crude out loud. You could only hope you’d never see them again.

You kept your eyes on the floor as he took you by the waist and with as much effort as it might’ve taken to move a doll from one shelf to another, lifted you up and laid you over his lap. His thighs bit into your stomach as a hand found its way to the small of your back, rubbing slow circles into the base of your spine. “We’re only going to do fifteen, alright?” It wasn’t really a question, so you didn’t bother pretending you were going to answer. Clark didn’t seem to need you to. “And you know I’m doing this because I love you, right?”

That, you couldn’t get out of so easily.

“I know,” you mumbled, because that was what would upset him the least. “That doesn’t make it hurt any less, though.”

He didn’t make a sound. You wondered if he’d heard you at all, at least until the flat of his palm came down on the plush of your ass and immediately, it was impossible to think about anything at all.

It was a small mercy that he didn’t make you count. It was something he’d tried early on, the first couple of times you‘d thrown a chair through a window or stolen his phone or hoarded weapons underneath the mattress of your shared bed, but you’d never really been able to hold yourself together long enough for anything like that. You broke down too quickly, too easily – fuck, you were breaking down right now and he’d only hit you once. You could already feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, a knot welling up in the back of your throat that only seemed to let little, pitiful whimpers and miserable sobs slip by. You tried to steel yourself, to bite back any signs of weakness, but that only meant you’d forgotten to brace yourself for the second strike – just as bad as the first, centered more towards the back of your thigh than your ass. He was trying to spread the pain, to make sure any marks he left wouldn’t be permanent. He was trying to be gentle.

It was scarier than it should’ve been – knowing that he really did care about you. You couldn’t call it ‘love’, not really, not if you still wanted to be able to live with yourself, but he had to care about you, at least enough to pay some amount of mind to your well-being, at least enough for you to be sure he didn’t hate you (although, some days, you could still be convinced otherwise). He didn’t love you, but he thought he did, and the fact that he could earnestly believe he loved you and still treat you like this made you very, very afraid of what could happen if he ever changed his mind.

By the third strike, you were crying unabashedly, and by the sixth, your hands were clamped around his thigh, your nails biting into his skin in less of an attempt to hurt him and more of a desperate scramble for any kind of stability he had to offer. It was all force, no friction – a bruising, throbbing type of pain quickly spreading outward from every part of your body unfortunate enough to be under his palm. You couldn’t seem to talk, but Clark didn’t have an issue, pausing after every blow to rub circles into your bruised skin and mutter to himself. You couldn’t imagine he still thought he was talking to you. “I just worry about how you’d manage things, out there, all on your own,” he explained, his tone cloyingly sweet. Like he was talking to a child, too naïve to know any better. Like he could still expect you to believe there was anything in the world more dangerous than him. “You know I’ll always keep you safe, but I can’t be everywhere at once. It’s easier for both of us if you just—” A pause, an airy chuckle. “—if you just stay out of trouble.”

You’d lived in the city for years and never gotten into trouble, not before meeting him. Saying that felt pointless, though, especially when he was already moving onto the seventh.

Fifteen was a terrible number. If there’d been twenty or more, you might’ve been able to go numb by the time he finished, and ten or less would’ve given you a chance to preserve at least some of your dignity. At fifteen, though, the pain was still intense enough to be blistering, and you couldn’t seem to choke down your own keening sobs as Clark brought down his hand for the final blow – using just a little more force than he really had to, making sure the lesson would stick for the next couple of days, if not the next couple of weeks. He was strict, like that, despite how tender-hearted he pretended to be. If he wasn’t, you would’ve acted out more often.

You had to believe you’d act out more often.

You were still limp and crying when his arm wrapped around your waist and with a raspy, adoring sound, he sat you up – letting you straddle one of his thighs. Whatever relief you might’ve felt at the end of your punishment was immediately overshadowed by the pale, reddish tint spread visibly across his face, the feeling of something too large and too stiff pressing into your leg where it fell between his. Clark didn’t acknowledge it, though, and you were happy to follow his lead, melting into his hands as he cupped your face, basking in his happily provided comfort. There was a shallow exhale as he tilted your head back, pressing another lingering kiss into your forehead, before dipping lower – falling immediately to your neck. You let his lips make contact with your throat before sniffling and shifting in his lap. “Hurts, Clark,” you murmured, doing your best to make your voice that of something small and in need. “It’s not that I don’t want to, but… can we go upstairs, first?”

That was enough to snap him out of it. “Right. Of course.” There was one last peck to your collarbone before he pulled you into his arms, any thought of letting you walk on your own prematurely dismissed. You tried to go blank as he trailed through the farmhouse, not to focus on anything but the pain and your exhaustion, but your gaze seemed to catch on everything you didn’t want to see – the bowl of dough still rising on the kitchen counter, the torn dress-shirt you’d planned on mending today, a dozen tiny things that all drove their own little needles into the pit of your stomach. In Clark’s defense, the housewife shtick hadn’t been his idea, but you couldn’t say he was entirely blameless, either. When you were left trapped and alone, given nothing to do and no way to occupy your time, there was only so long you could last before resorting to household chores. It was just a happy coincidence that the byproducts of your captivity were practically identical to the kind of sugar-sweet, domestic behavior that’d always seemed to melt his heart, back when your relationship wasn’t so insidious.

At least the bathroom was warm. Still too unsteady to be trusted to walk on your own, you sat on the vanity while Clark ran a bath, staring at your hands absentmindedly as the steam started to ebb at the chill. When the tub was nearly full, he helped you into it, more than happy to make it seem like you couldn’t so much as move without his help – which, in his defense, you really couldn’t. As you sunk into the scorching water, you made a mental note not to let him touch you at all tomorrow. You doubted it would be enough to fix the damage tonight had done, but it’d be better than letting him coddle you half-to-death.

Surprisingly, Clark didn’t hover over you for very long. “I think I promised you something to drink,” he explained as he moved to the doorway, his smile suddenly sheepish. Like he had any right to be shy about what he’d done to you. “I’ll be back in a second – unless you think you’ll need a hand?”

You hesitated, but shook your head. “’m fine. I just need some time to think.”

“Not too long.” He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes prying into you for a second, then another before he turned away. “I think we should be careful about what gets into your pretty little head, for the next few days.”

And just like that, you were left alone. For the first time since he’d brought you home, you let yourself relax. The hot water momentarily dulled the pain, but without the agony to distract you, humiliation quickly took its place. You shouldn’t have let Clark take you back so easily – that only gave him more leeway to treat you like some naïve, fragile object he’d been tasked with looking after. You shouldn’t have taken your punishment so quietly, even if you doubted clawing at his legs and thrashing would’ve actually accomplished anything beyond salvaging your pride. You shouldn’t have run away at all, not if it meant triggering Clark’s paranoia, not if it reminded Clark that you’d still take any chance you saw to get away from him. You’d have to be smarter about it, if you ever to escape tried again.

(You did your best to ignore that, a few months about, the same sentiment would’ve been followed by ‘when you inevitably tried again’. You weren’t superhuman. You didn’t always have the strength to be so delusionaly optimistic.)

When Clark did return, he was blissfully quiet and careful to keep his distance, sitting on the edge of the tub while you haphazardly washed the dust out of your hair and scrubbed the mud from your skin. Even after the water had gone cold and you’d managed to struggle to your feet, his touch remained fleeting, ginger as he bundled you in a towel and lifted you into his arms – his sudden distance no excuse to treat you like a living, breathing, capable person, apparently.

You didn’t have the energy to be frustrated. Exhausted and beaten down, you closed your eyes and rested your head against his chest, only stirring slightly when you felt Clark lower you onto a quilt-padded bed. You started to sit up, but the feeling of a hand laying over your hip was enough to stop you. When you opened your eyes, you found Clark, still standing, still staring down at you with that dazed, lovesick smile. “It’s really amazing, how someone like me could ever end up with someone like you.” He dipped lower, his lips finding the side of your throat. There was no pretense of innocent affection, this time, just his mouth on the side of your neck, his teeth ghosting over your skin. His voice was stifled by proximity, but mournfully audible. “I love you. I’m always going to love you. You know that, right?”

“I... I do.” You sounded hoarse, weak – more so than you would’ve liked. Clark nipped playfully at your collarbone, nearly breaking the skin. “I know you’ve been waiting, but—”

“Guess I’m just that impatient, when it comes to you.” There was an airy chuckle, a glint to his smile, but neither were very comforting. Again, you made an attempt to flee, and again, he found a way to keep you where you were – his hands curling around your thighs as he eased your legs apart. There was a hollow thud of body against floorboardas he fell to his knees, as he pressed yet another open-mouthed kiss into the inside of your thigh. “I just can’t help it. You make it hard for me to think straight.”

Not that he was trying to. You opened your mouth, trying to think of something that could distract him, that could convince him you just couldn’t do this, but he’d latch onto your cunt before you could spit anything out – the flat of his tongue running over your entrance while his nose ground into your clit. With your ass still blistered from your punishment and your nerves still on-edge from the cold, that was all it took for you to bolt upward – your hands automatically finding their way to his hair in a desperate attempt to pry him off of you. Of course, he didn’t budge, and of course, when he did glance up, he did it with that lovestruck expression that you’d never been able to stand. That you never wanted to see again.

That you just couldn’t seem to wipe off of his fucking face.

“Clark,” you whined, his name fractured and mangled on your tongue. “Please, I— It hurts, and I’m so tired, and I just—” You cut yourself off, swallowing harshly and trying to catch your breath. “Please, don’t.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Your heart skipped a beat, hope swelling in your chest. He melted into your palm, grinning like an idiot. “You can relax. I promise, I’ll be gentle.”

And just like that, you felt something deep in your chest crack open and shatter.

The next time he bowed his head, burying himself between your thighs, you didn’t bother trying to stop him.

You didn’t do anything at all.

[xjulixred45x]

I could't contain myself guys sorry--

Bro, do you realize how scary it would be to have Vox as a Yandere?

just imagine it. You could be one of his workers, maybe too good at your job, because not only do you do what Vox tells you without asking questions, but you also know what to say and what not to say to avoid a "tantrum" from him. or rather, when his insecurities attack with force like when Alastor returns.

Vox would probably be a somewhat condescending yandere (as seen with Val) but don't think you can't turn tables easily, if you stroke his ego enough, you can have him around your finger. but that doesn't make it any less dangerous for those around you.

He makes the typical 180 degree turn in attitude when it comes to Other Employees and when it comes to You. Damn, you may be the only one of his employees who gets paid vacations (or even vacations) or even birthday bonuses, things like that. He likes to give you his things or products with the excuse that "they are for testing" even if they have already been released on the market.

Like:

Vox: who the fuck eat My leftovers!?! WHENEVER WHO WAS I'M GOING TO-

Darling: it was me sir.

Vox:--give You the rest and take You out for lunch, You haven't eaten in the whole day AGAIN, didn't ya?

He definitely avoids conflict with you by hypnotizing you, when he starts to feel hostility, fear on your part or that you want to leave, he makes you "out of nowhere" have "ONE MORE TASK" and you can't help but do what he says.

and IT IS NOT just to avoid fights or for you to leave, it is something CONSTANT (once every two days MINIMUM), although Vox is not worried about your brain turning into mush due to its powers, it always keeps nutritious things in your diet and they come out relatively often , as you have to follow him everywhere.

Eventually he becomes more clingy and needy in this case, it's practically not that he's proposing to you or anything, he's just slowly dragging you into a relationship without you realizing it (because you're not lucid enough). Unless you develop a higher level of tolerance to his hypotonic trick, I don't think you'll notice his Red Flags.

I think it would be ESPECIALLY BAD if Darling is also a Sinner, because then they wouldn't even be able to get out of the pride ring to run away from Vox. leaving you with many fewer options and having to avoid all of Vox's technology, which you could only achieve by 1- going to the Cannibal Legion or 2- going to the Hazbin Hotel.

Running away is EXTREMELY DIFFICULT, not only because of his hypnotic trick, but because he literally has EYES EVERYWHERE, on every screen in hell. If you somehow manage to get away with it and run away, Vox would be SO ANGRY and looking for you all over hell with their screens.

Although definitely if you were gone more than a day, he would be more distraught than angry and would begin to despair. Even Val and Velvet would give him a hand because of how bad it would be.

Just imagine, thinking that you finally lost sight of Vox's search drones, without realizing that you stand in front of some store and VOX ITSELF appears on the screens :)

If you made the stupid decision to go to the Hazbin Hotel, Vox would be distraught and would even think that Alastor was somehow holding you hostage, obviously! Why would you go there if you knew his biggest enemy was there? Alastor must be using you as a bargaining chip! How dare he!?

(in this case, fortunately, the punishment is much less severe, but he would definitely monitor you for the rest of your life)

When he eventually gets you back (after a few days or even WEEKS of anguish) expect, first of all, to be in a mortal embrace that lasts AT LEAST 2 days and then receive your "punishment" which would be to be under hypnosis for AT LEAST 1 YEAR to be sure that this NEVER HAPPENS AGAIN.

Although calm down! He gives your mind breaks periodically because 1- he doesn't know if that would ultimate mess with your head and 2- it's nice to hear YOU talk instead of the robotic version.

When that year FINALLY ends, you will be a much more obedient, more terrified, sweeter version of You, according to Vox, like a frightened Deer. It was a long and hard process, but the good thing is that you don't have to do anything anymore! absolutely! Just do what he tells you and everything will be fine.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

Not one of the Best yanderes to have, but Def not the worst

[innerfare]

Nightmares - Part 2

Summary: What sorts of nightmares do they have about losing you?

Characters: Shanks, Beckman, Mihawk, Crocodile, Doflamingo, Corazon, Smoker

Genre: Angst

CW: SFW // that being said, caution- contains mentions of death and suffering

——— 

Shanks: 

It’s all fun and games as he chases you down the beach under the full moon, both of you splashing in the shallows, the mugginess of the summer night somehow refreshing after a few too many drinks. He doesn’t run very fast at first, giving you the head start he always does, the one you complain about, but when he does decide he wants you in his arms, he picks up his pace, only to realize you’re much further down the beach than you should be. He runs faster and faster, and with each step, you seem to get three more away from him, until the outline of you is rapidly disappearing. His throat begins closing up as he realizes he’ll never catch you. And when he wakes on deck, a half-empty booze bottle in his hands, he sets it aside and searches the ship for you, not catching his breath until he finds you sleeping in his bed, right where you belong. 

Beckman: 

You’re in the clutches of the marines. Beckman had a past before Shanks, a past that involved deserting the marines and going on the run from the World Government, and there’s a small part of him that never did overcome the fear of that past catching up to him. Worse still, he has a fear of that past catching up to you, and that fear comes to life in his dreams, when you’re thrown into Impel Down for his crimes and he’s forced to watch them dunk you in boiling water over and over again. He wakes with you asleep on his chest, the same as every night, and the skin to skin contact calms him down, but not enough for him to go back to sleep. 

Mihawk: 

He sent you away for your own good. He had a premonition the Navy would be coming for him, and with them, a slew of bounty hunters that would have no qualms about using you against him. And yet, you remained in his dreams, though the hot and heavy ones he once had were replaced by cold fear. Every time he went to sleep, a different scenario, though the crux of it the same: you were being used as a pawn to get to him, a pawn in a lot of pain. And every time he woke up, the same: your side of the bed was empty, the shape of your body tangled in those satin sheets now but a memory. For your own good, he kept reminding himself, though he believed it less every time.  

Crocodile: 

You betray him. Of course you do. He would betray you in an instant, and not even for a whole lot. A business deal, or perhaps the freedom of one of his more valuable people. From the look on your face, it’s not difficult for you, either. In fact, you seem to relish the pain on his as you inform him you’ve taken a deal with one of his enemies- a lucrative one, at that. And all you had to do was set him up. He wakes with a start, sitting up on the sofa in his office he often crashes on when he doesn’t feel like dragging himself to bed. You’re nowhere to be seen, and that’s what he needs for the next few days. He only stops giving you the cold shoulder when he figures out a way to approach the topic of betrayal without telling you how pathetically heartbroken he would be if you ever did turn on him. 

Doflamingo: 

The angry mob gets you. That same mob that went after his family, that same mob that went after him. They’re after you, and there’s nothing he can do about it. He’s not a warlord, not even a pirate, hasn’t eaten his devil fruit or met Trebol, hasn’t done anything to make himself powerful enough to protect you. You’re supposed to be his, but the mob is determined you’re theirs, and what is he supposed to do about it? He wakes in a cold sweat, leaning forward in his chair with his chest heaving. He takes a moment to massage his temples before climbing to his feet and stalking out of the room in search of you, determined to lay eyes on you (and probably to increase your security detail, too). 

Corazon: 

His brother has you tied up like a piñata for the executives to beat. Everyone in the family is there, even Law, and Corazon cries out, but he really is mute, completely unable to protest your treatment. He can’t move, either, can’t do anything but watch as everyone takes hits at you, from his brother to his son. He wakes in a fit of desperation, calling out for you. It’s the sound of his own voice- hoarse and frantic- that finally calms him down, though ultimately, he doesn’t take another calm breath until you appear at his side, your brow furrowed, asking him what’s wrong. He knows it’s crazy, but he just has to check you over for marks. 

Smoker: 

He comes home after months at the sea and finds your home wicked, windows shattered and furniture overturned. He approaches the bedroom with a lump in his throat. Just as he rounds the corner, he wakes up, but laying there in bed, he knows what he saw, knows what a crew of vengeful pirates did to his beloved. Though he had been firm on not telling anyone about you or your relationship for fear the wrong person would find out and your life would be in danger, he makes the decision to put in a call to an old friend and ask them to drop in on you every week or so to be certain you’re safe. He also installs a new, state of the art security system at your place as soon as he gets leave. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[envy-of-the-apple]

Dark!Naga!SatoSugu x reader

Top of the Food Chain

I've always wanted to continue my naga!mha fic but considering i dont write for deku+co anymore, i decided to move my au a couple fandoms over:D 1.8k wc

Part two , Part three

(Warnings: animal deaths, blood, obsession, dark content, slight gun threat but not rlly, polyamory, gender ambigious!reader) 

Despite being here for nearly a week, you still don't think Satoru understood how delicate you are. 

He's overbearing, in that sense. Constantly poking and prodding and squeezing until your lungs give and you're forced to squeak. You can't blame him for not understanding. He's an animal, after all. Inhuman. Despite his skin and hair, the scales coating his tail give away just how different he is. He was probably born fighting, kicking, and screeching his way through the foliage, hunting, chewing, and biting. 

He's not like you when all you knew when you were younger was coddling and softness. You can see it in his scars, and bruises, and marks. 

Luckily, for you, Suguru had an inkling that you weren't made for sharp claws. 

It's not a fight, you can tell when they're fighting, it's more like a warning? A minor disagreement. Suguru hisses at the other naga, scrunching up his face, showing his teeth. Satoru is quick to respond, but a little more playful. Fortunately for you, the black-haired male seems to win the argument. Satoru's coils loosen around you. Air stops fighting its way to get into your lungs. 

You finally go lax in his hold. Satoru seems to enjoy that, dipping his head to bury his face into the base of his neck. The first few times he did that, you were afraid he was trying to bite off your jugular. Now, you think it's just another way he can soak up your body heat. 

Maybe you've been here for longer than a week. At this point, you couldn't really tell. Hope that you'd be found was starting to slowly fizzle away. The explosion had been massive. The ship had sunk in a matter of minutes. With a disaster that huge, you doubt anyone would still be looking for survivors. Especially on an uncharted island, where myth had turned into reality. 

 Satoru had been the one you'd woken up to. Washed ashore, barely conscious. You were half-certain he was planning on eating you with the way he held your leg, watching your muscles bend and turn. In his defense, he must have thought you were dead. Your shrill scream quickly convinced him otherwise. 

It was barely a fight. More or less, a pathetic kidnapping as he grabbed your body, slinging it over his shoulder. You've never remembered screaming and crying so loudly before, convinced you were about to be eaten. Suguru probably heard you before he saw you. 

Satoru's mate was a little less impressed with you. Back then, they didn't bother learning your tongue, speaking in hisses and snarls, unaware of your misery. Suguru's frown was glued on his face, but the naga never let you run away, always keeping a hand or a tail on you at all times. It was a rough first day; you didn't know they weren't interested in eating you until they tried to feed you. 

Things were much different back then Nowadays, they are a lot more considerate of yourself and your soft body. You think you've come to an understanding with these strange creatures. 

Suguru was the nicest out of the two. In that, you mean the least rough. Compared to his counterpart, he's a bit smaller, but that's not saying there's any real difference. If it comes down to it, you are more than certain he'd be able to kill you off as quickly as his mate. You thought he hated you, at first. Now, you think he has a hard time showing blatant affection. His touches typically come in the dead of night, when you're barely conscious. A clawed finger gently raking over your soft skin. Large hands sculpting your face. 

Satoru's eyes were the first thing you noticed about him. Glittering like blue sapphires. You had a feeling they weren't just for show. Time and time again he's proven that he can see better than Suguru could. He smiles a lot more, but you're starting to wonder if that expression translates across species. He can speak your tongue slightly better than Suguru could. It most likely has to do with his insistence on staying with you. The more time you spend with him, the more you have to say 'No' 'Don't touch there' 'Stop'. 

In the rare times you manage to escape their hold, you like watching them interact with each other. They often sunbathe for hours, lazing around hot rocks to soak in the heat. They like touching each other. Sometimes it's aggressive, like when Satoru chomps on Suguru's neck and you're suddenly much more aware of how careful he is with you. Other times it's: soft, unintentional, meaningless. Languid cuddling when you are finally able to braid Suguru's hair. 

At this point, you've surmised they won't eat you. At least, not for the moment. You don't exactly know what they think of you. Do they have the concept of pets in their worldview? Maybe that's the closest thing you can place yourself as, at least in their eyes. They must think you're helpless. To them, you have no claws, no fangs, no venom. They probably don't know you come from a species that's hunted others to extinction and currently burning down the planet. You must be the first time they've ever seen your kind, stripped away from your weapons, when you're the least dangerous. 

"You should be more scared of me, you know," you once whispered to Suguru in the dead of night.

He was dozing off, blearily keeping his eyes open to stare at your moving lips. There was a grunt behind you, and Satoru tightened his arms across your waist. Greedy for affection, even in his sleep.

"Humans are terrifying," you said, reaching out to touch, "top of the food chain."

Suguru had smiled at that. You found yourself smiling back.

"You're lucky I didn't have a gun on me. You probably don't even know what that is." It's dark humor to press two fingers into his forehead. Your way of coping maybe.

Or perhaps your actions prove that humans will always desire to be violent, no matter how perilous their fight may be.

"Bang." He leans into your touch, unafraid. Oblivious to the threat that you are.

You're guessing Satoru only let you go because of the food Suguru brought.

You're able to feel the ground again as he glides over to Suguru having just come back from a successful hunt. The carcass of the largest deer you've ever seen is slung across his back. The smell of blood already makes you nauseous. 

You think Suguru had been the most panicked when you refused to eat, clicking and cooing while he tried to force-feed you the bloody leg of a bear. Back then, your communication was even worse than it was now. You were smeared in crimson by the time he relented. Practically dripping in it. 

Now, Suguru knows you have different tastes than them. You're not a big fan of raw. The fish and the handful of berries are more than enough to sate you as you gather the items he's given in your hands. 

"Thank you," you say. You reach out, touching his face with warm fingers. He purrs into your touch. You smile. It's the least gratitude you can give him. After all, he's not asking for much. If they hadn't found you, you would have been dead long ago, or at least, significantly less weaker. It's the least you can do. 

For a moment, you delude yourself into thinking they were your pets. It'd certainly be easy too. They have little to no regard for personal boundaries, much like dogs. They're more animalistic than they are human. 

It's funny to think of these monsters as lovable pets.

"Thank you," Suguru repeats. You giggle. It's not like they actually understand you. It's simple mimicry. Like talking to a parrot. 

"Thank you!" Satoru chirps, never one to be left out. He pushes his mate out of the way, eager for your pets as well. Suguru hisses, but doesn't argue. You've learned they like to be scratched right there on the bottoms of their chins. 

Suguru's less obvious, but Satoru has no desire to pretend. He melts into you, practically slumping his weight into your weak hold. It's a little adorable actually. You give a little laugh. He seems even more pleased at that. 

They're fun to be around, but this can't last. You belong with other humans, far far away from this island. So far, you hadn't seen any boats in the horizon, but you hope one would come by soon. A plane would be even better. Close enough to give you hope. Maybe if you built a big enough fire, it'd reach someone eye. 

Hopefully, in just a few weeks, these creatures will be a very cherished memory. 

You frown when Satoru reaches over to grasp at your food, the meat specifically. You glare, moving away from his hold. He titters in clear disappointment. You hate seeing him sad but you already have so few food sources. It's best to conserve whatever you get. 

"No," you pointedly tell him, "It's mine. Mine." 

His frown deepens, and he opens his jaws to let his fangs pop out. 

"Mine," you repeat. 

He leans back, huffing. You laugh because you know his expression is more out of frustration than any actual anger. Again, animals. You pet his head in apology, before turning away. You'd have to start a tiny fire to start cooking. Raw fish is edible, but it's hardly desirable. 

A hand grabs yours, clawed, the grip is tight around your frail skin. When you look back, Satoru is staring at you. Eyes wide. Eager. 

"Mine," he says, but it's more like he's testing the word. Tasting it on his lips. 

You scoff, unamused. "That's my arm. Not yours." 

Satoru smiles. Sharp teeth. You suddenly remember he's a carnivore. 

He's slow when he draws you in, practically dragging you into his arms. You're used to his spontaneous hugs, tight and suffocating. You can't fight him off, so you typically wait until Suguru has enough of his behavior and drags him off you. 

"Mine," Satoru repeats. Alarm bells ring in your head but it's easy to brush them off. It's mimicry. They can't understand. It's like talking to a parrot. 

You feel the weight of the other naga at your back. His arms wrap around your waist, pushing you against Satoru's chest. You stiffen when Suguru's fangs lightly graze up your neck. Never quite punctures, but is terrifyingly close.

"Mine," Suguru says into your skin. 

You laugh again, but it comes out less hesitant. More airy. Amid their hold, a sudden thought comes to you.

If you weren't at the top of the food chain anymore, then who was?

[mercy-burning]

A Kindness You Can't Afford

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary: Something that started out as 'stress relief between co-workers' is now a little concerning to you, but for some reason you can't help but keep letting Spencer walk through your door... Rating: Mature (18+) Content: Strong language, unprotected sex, rough sex, fingering, blink-and-you'll-miss-it choking, squirting (As always, let me know if I missed anything!) Word Count: 2.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: @imagining-in-the-margins sent me lyrics to Hozier's It Will Come Back to entice me to write something for her monthly challenge (which is themed Friends With Benefits), and then this happened. You can thank her for this. And also Emily Henry, because I read Happy Place and Beach Read back to back recently, and DAMN IT if I wasn't itching to do some romance-writing of my own. Sure, this one is less romance and more porn without plot, but I digress. The inspiration is there and that's all that matters. Plus I've started working on something else that probably won't see the light of day for a long while, but it's nice to feel the motivation. I'm starting to feel like myself again :) I don't know how long this creative sparkling cloud of dust is going to last, but I'm grateful to be living in it, if at least for a little while. It feels good to be there again <3

Enjoy!!

*******

There's a small pit in your gut that only deepens when you hear a knock at the door. A chill permeates your nervous system and sends you off on shaky limbs until you reach it, and as your palm comes in contact with the cool metal of the doorknob, you're disappointed to discover that the contrast does nothing to comfort the hot and clammy skin. Unless the person behind the door turns out not to be who you think, you will not know that comfort.

You open the door anyway, already used to this feeling of unease. It's a feeling you've come to tolerate, and sometimes even crave in desperate moments. Tonight has not seen one of those moments, but you suppose that doesn't really matter because you've already agreed to his terms, and unless you call it off, you're stuck. You've seriously considered doing it a few times, but something deep inside tells you he might not like it very much, and you're unsure of how he'll react.

It isn't a risk you're willing to take.

And so, you meet Spencer Reid with a bright smile, pretending not to know why he could possibly be outside your door past 9pm. He looks a little sleep deprived, but it's nothing new. Your work is exhausting. It was a major deciding factor and is the driving force behind your agreement in the first place. A way to relieve stress. Somewhere along the way, it seemed to have turned into something darker, though in retrospect that darkness has always been there. You often think back to the first time you initiated intimacy— how excited you were that he seemed willing to take you up on the offer... How your head swam through glittering mist and your heart beat quickly at his words.

"God, Y/N, I need you to be sure... Because once we go there, once you let me in... Even after I leave, I'm always going to be there... You're going to feel me everywhere you go, and that's a promise..."

In the moment it even sounded romantic, and in some twisted way, it might still be. But you don't want to let your brain misconstrue this whole situation. You've promptly decided to take it for what it is and accept the fact that he has some deep desires he needs to expel, and you're just a convenient companion for the journey.

"Spencer, you're here late..."

He exhales through his nose. "No later than usual."

"Right... Come on in." You widen the door and confidently step aside like you wouldn't know any different.

Rather than let you close the door, he'd taken your words as an invitation to make himself at home, pushing it shut with his foot and jolting you forward with it, subsequently pulling you towards him. His hands are quick to guide your face to his own, and without a second more in passing, the night has officially begun.

Electricity is immediate, sizzling through your core at Spencer's drive. It's true that when you're alone, it's difficult not to overthink the situation and rope the emotional and logical side of it to the forefront of your mind. But being with him like this dissipates the thinking entirely. All you know is that it feels so good, and it's absolutely worth all the turmoil you put your brain through.

It's worth it when his tongue possesses your own and coaxes the most sinful, desperate noises from the depths of your chest, and when your delicate fingers find purchase in his hair. It's worth it when your back is up against the door with his knee wedged between your thighs. It's worth it when his hand glides down your jaw until each finger curls around your neck, not choking you but simply resting there like a necklace would. He squeezes gently for a second each time you twitch your hips, desperate to feel friction, and you whimper.

You've come to learn that the more noises you make, the more he rewards you with... well, more. So it doesn't take very long for him to decide that enough is enough, and he pulls away from you to turn you around. You brace your arms on the door and lean your head to the left so he can work.

Warm lips attach to your neck as nimble fingers snake around your front and dip below the band of your lounge shorts and underwear. Your insides hum to life, and your legs naturally spread apart a little further, making Spencer laugh against your skin. You half expect him to tease you, but the surprise leaves your body in the form of a rather whorish Oh! when he spreads you apart and glides his fingers through your warm cunt. He explores you thoroughly, circling and spreading and plunging his fingers inside you, until eventually he continues a slow and steady pace running up and down your clit. You can feel it in his breath, in the way it stutters over your neck— He's about to give you your first orgasm of the night. If his skilled hands wouldn't do it (which you know they will), his words definitely would.

"Mmmm, I love how warm you are, Y/N," he slurs into your neck. Then he lightly nips at your shoulder and quickens the pace and pressure on your clit. "And how fucking messy you get for me..."

You know what he wants, but even if you hadn't, it still would have happened. The first time he made you squirt, he'd been determined to do it again. And again. In every different way possible. Over the course of your stress-relief-escapades you've come to learn that this particular way (with his hand down your loose-fitting shorts) is his favorite. He never strives to do it anymore unless you're wearing a pair. Perhaps it's the sounds, or the feeling of your damp clothes and the desperate need to peel them away in favor of something more solid, but it's become your favorite way, too.

Your nails scratch at the door as you pant and sigh your way through an intense building orgasm, and Spencer leans forward with you, using his free hand to assist in holding you up as he furiously works at your clit with the other. His chin rests on your shoulder as he huffs out, "Go on, baby, let it out..."

He knows you're close, and those final encouraging words seem to snap the coil tightening inside you. Your thighs tense for just a second before you feel every wave of pleasure crashing into every limb. And then, you're able to relax and ride it out, letting him hold you up and pull the orgasm out of you like magic. It's wet, it's warm, and it's fucking sensational...

You can practically see the wild look in Spencer's eyes even if you couldn't actually see him at all. His presence is always, as promised, so inherently there, that even now it's a vivid image. His pupils are an empty abyss, and if you look too closely you're sure to fall in. Hell, you're not even positive that you haven't already fallen in, because the thought of calling it all off when it feels this good seems, simply put, wrong. Why would you ever want to deprive yourself of this feeling? His possessive, damn-near monstrous way of loving you as concerning as it is, had taken you to the highest places you'd ever known. Even if it isn't 'love' on paper, you certainly love it anyway. And he must love it, too, otherwise he wouldn't keep coming back.

He only comes back because you let him in in the first place, the rational part of your brain tries to reason, though it can't quite break through the fog of lust. At this point, it's so thick that you aren't sure it's ever going to clear.

Not that, right now, you'd mind...

Once your breathing slows and your legs gather the strength to pivot, Spencer removes his hand from your shorts and gently guides you to turn around. His lips are on yours immediately, and he's tugging at your shorts and underwear to pull them down. They drop to the ground and without a second to spare, he tugs you along through your living room and over to the couch. It's practically a straight shot to the bedroom from here, but apparently time is not a luxury he can afford this evening, because you barely have time to anticipate what his next move might be before he makes it.

Mouths still attached, the two of you nearly fall on the couch, and Spencer's weight covers you like a blanket. His hips pin yours down and his arms have taken to pinning your own above your head. He nips at your bottom lip and pulls away for a moment, but you chase him, trying to lean up and keep kissing him and whimpering when you can't.

A low laugh exhales from his chest. "And I thought I was the needy one in this relationship..."

He shifts then, getting up and kneeling between your bare legs to start undoing his pants. Meanwhile you lift your shirt over your head, grateful you'd already ditched the bra earlier in the afternoon. Less time to waste.

Seeing you completely bare from head to toe and ready for him seems to amplify that animalistic quality in Spencer that's so unlike the aura of the boy you met years and years ago. Whether he had that quality before he'd met you is unknown, but it's hard to imagine. You like to think that you and you alone have single-handedly created this primal sexual being simply by expressing interest in what youcould offer him amongst the joint understanding of the daily hardships that leech onto a BAU agent. Regardless of the truth, the sheer sense of power it fills you with... In every deep stroke of his cock, in every mark left behind, and in every praise sung, there is this irreplaceable strength that you cling to long after he's gone.

No hard truth would ever take that feeling away, and so you can't help the grin that manifests at his urgency. You can tell he wants nothing more than to sink into you immediately; he visibly struggles for a moment before opting to fully slide his pants and underwear off together until they're tossed over somewhere into the abyss. You half-expect him to whip his shirt off to join them, but instead he lunges forward and covers you again, muffling your whimpers with his mouth as one hand guides himself into your slick cunt.

You can feel the rumble in his chest the moment he's all the way in and you clench around him. He rests his forehead to yours and kisses you deeply before asking, "You ready for me, Y/N?"

The low echoing tone in his voice seems to answer in the momentary silence that follows.

You better be... 

It sends a chill down to the marrow of your bones.

You barely whisper out, "Yes," and before the last letter leaves your mouth, Spencer has pulled back and snapped his hips forward, starting a slow and brutal pace inside you. Your legs spread wide naturally, giving him all the room in the world to position himself to handle you however he wants. He opts for holding your breasts in his palms, holding himself steady and pinning you down firmly to the couch cushions.

It doesn't take long for your eyes to start their descent to the back of your head, until they flutter shut and you're seeing stars behind closed lids. His pace quickens, still hard and determined, and yet you know he has more in him. Part of you itches to whine and beg for him to go farther, to push him to his limits and make him fuck you until you're nearly unconscious and delirious. And truthfully, that's still a high possibility, but you also wouldn't mind staying like this forever.

Then, one of his hands shifts and glides up to your neck again. You open your eyes and find Spencer staring down at your body with hair falling down in front of his face and sweat forming on his brow. His mouth hangs open and then grins when he catches you staring, the sight making you sigh out and grip the bottom hem of his shirt with your fingers for any kind of stability.

You're teetering on the edge of another orgasm, and by the way his face is slightly scrunching you can tell that he's not far behind you.

Just the flash-forward thought of him filling you up sends a jolt through your body, and before you know it, your legs are tensing again, and you're yelling out his name in broken syllables as a flood of warmth spreads through your body. For a split second you wonder if you've both come undone at the same time, but this feeling is different and more intense. Familiar.

The sounds filling the room only confirms your conclusion, and then Spencer's words as he pauses and feels you twitching around him.

"Twice in one night, huh?"

You force yourself to look at him, to see the unhinged pride pooling in his eyes as you finish and wait for him to follow suit. It both empowers and frightens you at the same time, an odd combination of feelings that you're sure to have a crisis about in the morning. But for now, you can't help but lean back and watch the ceiling as Spencer grips your hips and starts fucking you relentlessly into the couch.

Finally, he pauses at the hilt inside you and holds himself there, stuttering out expletives and coming. He pulls back and then forwards a couple times, gently rocking himself through it, and then his grip on your body loosens and you're able to pull him down to you.

You wrap your legs around him to keep him still, unwilling to let go of this feeling quite yet. It's there— that strength that he gives you, whether he knows it's there or not.

And in about an hour after you wash up and go to bed, he will be gone, and that strength will slowly fizzle out overnight, and like clockwork, you'll long to feel it again some time after the concern runs its course— After you replay the night in your head, over and over, analyzing every look and every touch and every reaction. After you frighten yourself into believing that he must be in tune with some level of evil to use you for rough sex and then leave you alone during the day and act like it never happened, even though it's literally what you agreed to.

The back and forth will only make living harder, and so you'll push it all away and focus on work. Until Spencer eventually brushes your arm with the back of his hand as he passes you, or hands you a cup of coffee with a kind smile, and then you'll come right back to wondering how such a gentle soul could hold such intensity. It will unnerve you until you tell yourself that it's just the complexities of the human condition and that every soul contains multitudes. You see it every day. It's not uncommon. It's completely normal.

The thought will calm you enough to get you through the rest of the afternoon, and when you get home, you'll settle in for the night without a second thought. You'll make dinner, watch a show, read a book, endlessly scroll online, or talk to Penelope about whatever show she's watching... You'll keep yourself busy.

And then the sun will set. Your house will grow quiet. You'll start to feel it: the small pit in your gut that only deepens when you hear a knock at the door. You'll meet Spencer Reid with a bright smile, pretending not to know why he could possibly be outside your door past 9pm.

So, yes. For now, you will hold onto him a little longer and bask in the afterglow of this exercise in 'stress relief'. Because even if it doesn't mean anything greater, and whether there's even anything within Spencer's motivations to decode in the first place... This moment in time, each time, is the most relieved you ever feel.

Your fingers flex gently over his shoulders, and through the soft, even exhaling of his breath across your cheek, you know for certain he feels the same.

*******

PERMANENT TAGLIST (tags not working are struck out): 

@starrylang @xoxospencerreid @lovejules888 @awesomebooklover17 @yourmisosoup @gubswh0re @venomsvl @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @umbreonwolfy @hotchandspencearedilfs @spencerreidsmommy @abby2661 @youabitchhhh @reidsbabe @shemarmooresfedora @donald4spiderman @moonlight-2-6 @chaoticcatie @flipperpenguins @muffin-cup @centiaaa @foreveryoungxx3 @happymangospot @matthew-gray-gubler-lover

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get on it right away!

[local-diavolo-anon]

i'm back!

ok so 2/3 days ago i found this youtube video where op turned Springtrap (or well, William Afton) into a fully build DnD character, and if i say so myself: things got out of hand fast

so here is my take on DnD Springtrap and specifically on that build (adding more infos under the cut for who is interested, i suggest to watch the video first)

starting with saying that unless you're playing in a scifi setting, this build is either not for you or to be modified, since in later levels spells are heavily centered around technomagic and electronic devices; personally when i will play him i will probably tinker around with the chosen spells and cantrips to make him less violently niche and/or more versatile

which kinda saddens me because it takes away not little of the characterization but, given most dnd stories take place in a medieval fantasy or high fantasy setting, a cantrip like On/Off or a spell like Remote Access are NOT particularly useful; so i will go for more psychic damage or necromancy oriented abilities, maybe i might take more than just 4 levels in artificier as well (especially given that again, all of those warlock spells at later levels are all technology oriented) but i need to see what those offer

however it is a kinda tank-y build given that with a shield on you can get up to a 27 of Ac, so even with low damage and not much hp you would not struggle too much to stay alive, and i like that!

as for the character himself, i put too much effort into my interpretation not to share it, so if anyone wants to play this guy as well, i fabricated a possible backstory that might come useful:

The character goes by the name "Dave Miller" (or whatever variant you want to use), and was originally a human artificier who created constructs for a living, mainly with the goal of offering aid to who needed it for whatever reason.

There however he ran into an issue, that being that a robot need a power source, and his own heart and lungs could not sustain a whole robot by themselves.

After losing part of his family to some kind of accident he became terrified of death, so with age he started replacing his own body parts with machinery to delay his last days (which made him a cyborg), until the point where he was very very close to become just a robot.

(This part may or may not involve a pact with a deity of death, this entirely depends on how you want to play him but it would make sense since the build is an artificier/warlock hybrid)

Through particular and very much not illegal experiments tied to necromancy he discovered that the life force of a living being could be shared, and used as a form of fuel. (possibly: age lived of the creature used= amount of extra months you get)

Here comes the second problem: this only worked with intelligent creatures, and more specifically, it worked best with creatures of your own race, which meant that he either went around murdering people or he found another solution. Non same-race creatures worked as well but not as good and there were not easy to find in the middle of a city and with a shop tied to your name.

And here is where and WHY he'd join a party of adventurers: after some time, his reserves or fuel were running VERY thin, and running into a group of adventurers was a god sent because by joining their party he essentially got a free pass to kill whoever he wanted, and reduce them to a dried raisin after sucking some life force out of them. Doing so you learn that the mowe powerful the creature is, the more energy it produces as well.

Your goal, that you as the player are following, when role-ing your character? essentially slay whatever powerful BBEG your Dm throws at you and suck all of that juicy fuel out of them, so that you can return to your little shop in the middle of the capital and return to create and sell whatever weird construct, doll, or robot comes to your mind for another few decades undisturbed.

And this is it. I think this might be a good backstory that could fit pretty much any setting you want to play this guy into, be it classic dnd or some scifi futuristic thing.

of course you don't NEED to use this one line per line, make up your own without looking back if you don't like it lol, dnd is the "make up shit and have fun" game after all!

Edit: also no his outfit makes no sense, i just went with vibes and decided a tanktop dress shirt, a twin tailed gilet and suspenders OVER said gilet was a good choice.

[unoislazy]

Promises

Vi x Reader (Part Two)

(Childhood friends to lovers…)

Love will drive you crazy.

A/N: Leave it to a woman to inspire me to write again. <3

“And promise you’ll come back?”

If only you’d known how long those words stuck with Vi. 

For years she had been kept in this prison, her age passing by faster than she could keep count as the days moved on. The gray walls and dreary interior she had become so accustomed to  would be her undoing, she thought. The constant torment by the guards, being forced to live with those she always opposed, every reminder that she needed to get out, all of it in the end would amount to nothing. She feared she’d become nothing more than a statistic among the rest of the previous lane's residents.

She feared she’d never get back to you.

That was, of course, until a strange enforcer came to her rescue. Well… rescue was a strong word. In her eyes it was as if she was being taken from one cage to another.

“In what mad world would I trust someone like you?” She remembered the girl saying. 

“Someone like you.” 

They were all the same.

But she knew this girl was her best bet out of this place. Back to her sister and back to you. 

So, with a slightly wounded ego and a more hopeful outlook on life, given her two goals were now closer than ever, she left with the enforcer.

It was as if she appeared from nowhere. When she showed up, Vi truthfully thought she was going to get another “talk”. Instead, however, she was set free. With a price of course. She knew better than anyone than to trust an enforcer, so she kept her distance. Although, she couldn’t help but be thankful for her help even if it meant giving some kind of information in return. 

For the first time in years, Vi was able to move freely, hear the sounds of people bustling about, and see actual colors other than the dismal gray that engulfed the entirety of Stillwater. She wasn’t going to let some enforcer stop her from at least stretching her legs as she got reacclimated to the world around her. It wasn’t until the enforcer caught up with her once again did she realize she wasn’t going to just leave her alone. 

“Where are we going?” The enforcer asked. Vi had learned her name to be Caitlyn, and honestly she was just trying to lose her but somehow she always found her way back. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, not even bothering to turn back towards her. 

“We’re going to visit a friend.” She answered simply, her hood pulled up to cover her tattooed skin and her ever present pink hair.  Although the crowd of the people of the lanes was a diverse bunch, someone like Vi would still be easily recognizable for those who knew to look for her, and she was sure there would be a few. 

“Will this friend help us?” Caitlyn questioned skeptically, quickening her pace for a moment to catch up with Vi before slowing her pace once again. It was clear she was unsure of Vi's methods, probably letting what she had “learned” about the people of the undercity make her imagination go wild. She too kept her hood up, but less out of keeping her identity hidden, and more as if she was trying to shield herself from the strange new world around her. She had never been to the fissures first hand… and it was a lot to take in. 

With her hands tucked into the pockets of her new, freshly stolen jacket, Vi sighed.

“If I say yes will you hurry up?” She asked with a sarcastically sweet smile on her face as she turned slightly to Caitlyn. The blue haired enforcer, now left with little options given that Vi was her only sense of direction, simply nodded in response and followed wherever Vi was headed with a hastened pace. 

Luckily for Caitlyn, their route didn’t contain any parkour. 

Vi hurriedly made her way through the streets of the Undercity with one place in mind. She had no idea where you could be after all these years, if you were even still here. So, to keep from losing her sanity all at once, she started at the place where everything used to make sense. She couldn’t help but feel her heartbeat quicken ever so slightly, fluttering with even a tinge of hope that things would be just as they once were. With you waiting outside the door, wondering when she’d be free to hang out. Just like how it used to be.

But instead of being greeted with both the nostalgic warm glow off the sign outside of the bar, and you waiting by the door, she was met with a jarring bright green neon eye that framed the sign. People hung around outside, some clearly drunk off their ass, while others picked fights. Two guards stood outside, keeping people out of the, what seemed to now be exclusive, bar. 

This wasn’t right. None of this was. 

Vi’s grip on the bar that he hands rested on tightened as she looked at the scene before her. If this had changed, she couldn’t imagine what else had happened. 

And now she hadn’t a clue in the world where to look for you.

Little did she know, you really weren’t that far from her. 

You, like many others in the Undercity, had to make ends meet. 

You had to learn to survive.

And as a kid who lost everyone close to them, you really didn’t have many choices. So, you started from the bottom, working in the mines as many other kids your age did and worked your way up. Unfortunately, working in the mines meant you were working for Silco. The kingpin of the lanes. You couldn’t escape him if you tried. No one could, it seemed. The more you worked up and out of the mines, the closer you got to the man himself. Of course you never got to any influential role like his right hand. That title was reserved for Sevika.

But you didn’t need anything like that. You just wanted to survive, you didn’t want to have any real influence. 

Who knew from starting out in the mines, you would one day work your way up into working in the bar that you once thought to be a home of some sorts. In your eyes, everyone but Powder had died in that accident all those years ago. You never did find out exactly what had happened and you figured it would be for the best not to ask. That was the best way to get around in a place that involved such sketchy business. 

Keep your head down and don’t ask questions. 

That’s how you got as far as you did. 

What’s the point in asking questions you probably don’t want the answers to.

Every day you came into this bar to work, you couldn’t help but feel an unfathomable weight of guilt on your shoulders. You felt as if you let this happen. You felt as if you could’ve done something to stop Silco from practically desecrating the one thing everyone had left of Vander, other than the statue that was built in his honor. You felt as if you had done a disservice to Vi.

You knew how much Vi cared about those around her, and of course you also knew how much her sister meant to her. You never directly told her but you always knew that if anything had happened to Vi or Vander, you’d help out Powder. 

But when the need arose, you realized far too late.

The first day you had come in to work at your new position, just as a regular busser, you hadn’t expected much. You had no interest in the company Silco kept so you never made it your business. Until one day, you were cleaning off a table when a blue haired girl came waltzing in the front door. Her demeanor was cheerful but… with a noticeable edge. There was something off about her. You simply ignored it, figuring it was not worth asking questions until you heard her laugh. 

It was as if a strike of lightning struck through your entire being at that moment.

It couldn’t be. Could it?

You slowly turned once again to look back at the blue haired girl. A blue haired girl with even bluer eyes. Her laugh was identical to the one you had come to know very well all those years ago. It was then it clicked with you, that girl was Powder. She was here all along and you never knew. She was alive this whole time. You could’ve done something. You could’ve helped. And instead, here she was under Silcos care when she should’ve been under yours.

But then again, what could you have done? You too were just a child barely able to scrape together enough to make a living on your own, let alone take care of another altogether. Clearly that's not what mattered, what mattered was keeping Powder safe, what mattered was doing what you had secretly promised to Vi. What mattered was-

“Did you hear me?” A low voice broke you from your train of thought as you fluttered your eyelids and shook your head. You then looked up at the women before you who had spoken up just moments prior. You panicked a bit, immediately recognizing the woman to be Sevika, Silco’s cold hearted right hand. She grumbled under her breath knowing damn well you hadn’t heard a single word she just said before repeating,

“Clean this up.” She huffed, her eyelids lowering slightly as she stared at you. 

“Right.” You replied quickly before quickly moving to grab your bucket and practically scooping all the dirty dishes into it to bring back to clean. You tried not to draw too much attention to yourself by just doing what was asked of you quick and easy, but it was hard not to let your mind run away from you when being in a place such as this. A place that meant so much to you and you could do nothing but sit back and watch it burn. 

As you went back to clean the dishes, you noticed Sevika had gotten up and began to follow you. Great, you upset one of the three main people you never wanted to get on the bad side of.

Good going. 

You braced yourself to be ridiculed or fired before you heard Sevika speak up.

“Hey, you.” She called out, to which you turned around, a questioning look on your face as you looked behind you before looking back at her. “Yes, you. Come here.” She called out, now very clearly looking directly at you. If you were wearing boots you’d be shaking in them by now. You listened, of course, and walked towards her, leaving behind your container of dishes on a counter nearby. 

Once you made your way towards her, you simply made a gesture of acknowledgement, not speaking up as you waited for her to continue. 

“I need you to handle something for me. You don’t talk much, that’s good.” She spoke, her voice low and gritty as she leaned towards you as if trying to keep, whatever she was about to let you in on, a secret. You were just a busser, you weren’t supposed to be involved in any of the bigger things, this isn't what you wanted. 

Then again, you were just a busser, so there was no possible way that whatever Sevika wanted to suddenly burden you with was going to be all that damning, right?

“I have a ‘meeting’ tomorrow and I need someone else to go with. Don’t talk, don’t play, don;t do anything, you just have to be there. Got it?” She asked, well actually more like demanded. Then you realized, this ‘meeting’ was just another one of her gambling sessions. She must be playing something that involves two players and as someone who clearly doesn’t want to be in the way, she wouldn’t have to worry about you trying to snuff her out while playing. 

You felt as if the entire weight of the world lifted off of your shoulders. 

“Got it.” You responded. 

“Rotten luck boys.” Sevika gloated, throwing her deck onto the table as the two men before both of you huffed and growled having now the last majority of their money that they likely had saved for this occasion.

Just before she could say anything else, the sound of a sudden impact flew through the air, and before you could ever process what had just happened you watched as a streak of pink flew past your vision. The two men that had once been sitting before you had scurried off, grabbing some of their belongings in the process, clearly not wanting to be involved. 

You looked over to Sevika who was now partly on the floor as she grasped her jaw before looking up at the culprit. 

“Vi?” You whispered at the same time as Sevika as you both gazed upon the pink haired woman who currently had her back turned towards you.

Vi quickly turned back around to face you both, her eyes quickly glancing at you but her gaze didn’t linger as her focus was clearly on Sevika. Without another word shared between the two of them, punches were thrown, blows were dealt, and the sound of faces hitting concrete became more frequent than you ever would have liked it to.

You backed off, staring at the scrap before you as your eyes remained locked on the pink haired woman. There was no way that was Vi. It couldn’t be, she was killed with everyone else right? Perhaps, this was just a woman who just happened to look like Vi..? You racked through your brain with a million reasons for this to somehow be possible. None of which involved this truly being Vi. You didn’t want to let your hopes up like that. 

It wasn’t until you tuned back into the fight had you realized that Vi had kicked Sevika through a wall and was now holding her to the ground.

“Where’s my sister, where is he keeping her!” She demanded, holding her fist to Sevika’s face. It was then you realized, this really was Vi. From the voice, the fighting ability, the hair. You couldn’t deny it, it truly was her.

Your heart raced with excitement as you realized she was alive. She was really alive.

But if Sevika had her way, that wouldn’t be the case for long. 

She drove her clawed metal hand into Vi’s abdomen, wounding her greatly. 

You didn’t know what to do, if you spoke out against Sevika and lived you would be hunted for sport by Silco’s men, or Sevika herself. If you didn’t do anything, Vi was right on track to die. 

Before you could make a decision, you heard the whirring of Sevika’s arm as she stood once again, grabbing Vi and holding her in place.

“Hm, oh. And I almost forgot, a friend of yours wanted to say hi.” She taunted as she tilted Vi’s dreary face towards you. You watched as her face that was riddled with pain changed ever so slightly with shock as she recognized you. 

“Sunshine…?” She said quietly. The nickname that she had given you all those years ago.  before you both turned back to Sevika as the sound of her arm powering up filled the air. Vi looked as if she had given up by this point, having no more strength in her to fight. 

You had to help, you had to do something. You weren’t going to sit by and let this happen.

You weren’t going to lose her again.

------------------------------------------

Tag list

@bigbangxd24

[cuntressgoingdigital]

BAD HABIT | abby anderson x reader - college au!!

free palestine! click this link for more info

synopsis: you catch abby's eye during class and she becomes determined to make you her's. unfortunately, she can't bring herself to just outright admit her feelings, forcing herself through weeks of yearning and agony.

notes: i have been sitting on this since early october. finally finished it up! gets kinda rambly midway through. can you tell i love writing abby as a gay loser? titled after bad habit by steve lacy :P

cw: 18+ content MDNI, reader referred to as a girl, alcohol ment, dom! reader (if you squint), inexperienced! abby, no smut technically (but def not sfw), abby doesn't know how to communicate

word count: 4.9k

it was abby’s final year of college. she was finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. the last three years had been a horrendous rollercoaster of trials and tribulations. all of her classes were rigorous and extremely involved. it felt like she never slept, ate, or had any time to herself. she had a couple friends, but nothing too serious. in reality, they were probably closer to acquaintances. she made the mistake of following her boyfriend halfway across the country to attend the same college as him. all of her friends were his friends and their breakup, while semi-amicable, set her back as far as friendships go. 

it wasn’t that she wasn’t good at making friends, she just didn’t have the time. making friends in your senior year of college was its own special beast. nobody wants to go out of their way to foster new friendships because of their temporary nature. everyone was applying for grad school, hoping to get as far away from home as possible. living off campus isolates you, ripping you away from the forced community that comes with living in a dormitory.

none of that mattered. abby was perfectly fine by her lonesome.

she had never felt compelled to establish a connection until she stepped foot into her french romantic literature class. everyone called it a gimme class. do the readings, write your reviews and reports, easy A. it was a low level class and she needed the elective credit, so why not? it was an 8AM, but she had dealt with worse. 

she was setting up her ipad and pencil when she felt someone brush past the back of her chair. she looked up and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. she swears she had never seen a girl more beautiful than you. it felt like one of those cheesy rom coms where all the sound in the room dropped out, the entire world slowed, and your smile lit up the room. 

“sorry!” you whispered, making your way a few chairs down and getting as comfortable as possible on those horrid plastic chairs. 

every day for two weeks she just watched you from afar. abby perked up every time you raised your hand to give insight on that week’s readings. you were intimidatingly smart. everything you said, she couldn’t have possibly come up with. she hadn’t missed a single day of class so far. 

but, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say to you. a simple “hi, nice to meet you” wouldn’t cut it. she didn’t want to come off as creepy or nonchalant. she needed a plan. 

one day you had left your bag open on your desk and abby caught a glimpse of a novel. it wasn’t one of the books that was required reading for class. was it a leisure read? immediately, she looked up the title and read the synopsis. 

she couldn’t fathom any way to make a book sound less interesting.

alas, at this point she was committed. 

that afternoon, during a small break between classes, she made her way to the library. after wandering on one of the floors for too long, she finally found the novel in question. the plan was to read it, hope that you left your bag open again, and ask about it after class. simple enough. 

she took the elevator down to the first floor and brought the book up to the check out desk. there was no one behind the desk and she wondered if she should come back later.

“sorry!” 

abby knew that voice. 

you sauntered out from the hidden staff area behind the desk. abby felt stupid for letting her crush affect her like this. her face was hot, she had to make a concerted effort to breathe evenly, and suddenly she forgot how to socialize. all she could do was stiffly set the book on the desk. 

“aren’t you in my class? french romantic lit, right?” you took the book in your hands and flipped it to the back cover to scan the barcode on the corner. 

“uh, yeah. i think so?” she had never felt more awkward in her life, sliding her student ID across the desk. 

“well, it’s nice to meet you…” you pick up the plastic card and read over it. “abby.”

there was a quiet beep and abby stood there awkwardly trying to think of something to say. “have you read this book before?” she blurted out. “i just…the reviews seemed to be pretty split. people either love it or hate it, y’know?”

a smile stretched across your face. you were clearly more than delighted to give your thoughts, recommendations for other books, and authors who had a similar writing style. abby thought your enthusiasm was adorable. she had absolutely no clue what you were talking about, but was happy you got to share your ideas with her. 

she cleared her throat. “i guess i’ll give you my thoughts after class one day?” 

you nod excitedly. “i would really love that.” 

abby collected her items and turned on her heel to leave the library. she felt accomplished, only to realize a few moments later,

fuck. 

she didn’t even ask for your name. 

that night abby started the novel. she was determined to finish before she saw you again on wednesday. homework was suddenly tossed onto the backburner. her childish crush took precedent. for the next day and a half she did nothing but read this novel, even going as far as making annotations and talking points for you. 

she woke up bright and early on wednesday. the sun was hanging lowly in the sky. she couldn’t go back to sleep even if she wanted to. she drug her body out of bed and pulled on a black tshirt and grey sweatpants for her early morning workout. she preferred to get her workout out of the way during the early morning hours to avoid the crowd of people in her apartment’s rec center and lower her chances of social interaction. 

her workout was a little more rushed than usual. she wanted to make sure she looked well put together when she approached you after class. she was meticulous with her shower routine, pairing the scent of her body wash with her lotions and deodorant. pine and amber with a hint of lavender. next was her hair that she braided and re-braided at least three times in front of her slightly fogged up bathroom mirror. she peeked at her phone and noticed it was way later than she thought. she ripped a black short sleeve button up and olive green corduroy pants off of their hanger and slipped on some shoes before she ran off to the bus stop.

she made it into the classroom right as the professor was reading off the first slide. the feeling of several pairs of eyes on her was unbearable. 

for the entire seventy five minutes of class she could only stare at you. you were feverishly typing on your laptop while also scribbling something down in your notebook. the clock seemed to tick slower than usual. 

“alright, that covers everything i wanted to address today. i’ll let y’all out a few minutes early. go enjoy the weather outside.” 

abby couldn’t pack up faster. she prayed you weren’t in any kind of rush. 

“hey!” 

abby spun around to see your face. thank god, you had approached her. this eliminated the possibility of her chickening out. 

“oh, hey!” this had thrown off abby’s entire script. “sorry i ran off yesterday. i didn’t catch your name?”

you chuckled at the realization. you hadn’t noticed either. after you properly introduced yourself, abby offered a “nice to officially meet you.”

you waste no time getting to your initial reason for approaching her. “did you start the book?” 

the sound of your voice had butterflies swarming about in her stomach. 

“yeah, i finished it actually.”

you slung your backpack over your shoulders. “which way are you going?” 

the two of you set off in the direction of the coffee shop on campus. abby went over her talking points and luckily you two shared a lot of the same ideas about the themes and writing style of the book. abby made a mental note to read more of your recommendations. 

the coffee shop was coming up on the horizon and abby had already completely derailed her walk to her next class. she had to wrap this up.

“did you maybe wanna study together sometime? you looked really into today’s lecture.” was that a weird thing to say? now it sounded like she was watching your every move.

she was. 

but, that wasn’t your business. 

“oh god, no. i hated this week’s reading. way too dense and the translation was clunky.” your head dropped in embarrassment. “i was actually playing sudoku.” 

god, you were the cutest thing. 

“dinner, then?” she ground her fingernails into the fabric of her backpack straps. “i just think it would be nice to have someone to talk about the homework with.” there was a beat of silence and immediately she felt the need to backtrack “it’s okay if not! i’m sure you’re busy and all.”

“dinner sounds fun! i can do tonight? maybe around seven?”

the two of you exchanged phone numbers and abby said a quick goodbye before rushing off in the opposite direction, praying she wasn’t late to her next class. 

you mentally high fived yourself. you had only made one friend during your time at college and that was your first year dorm roommate. she was great and all, but a senior with only one friend felt sort of pathetic. you were positive the two of you only ended up being friends because of your forced close proximity. you both loved each other to death, but you weren’t so sure you would have found each other otherwise. 

this time you made a friend all on your own. well, maybe you two weren’t quite friends yet, but you’d try your damndest to make your friendship status official. she was nice enough so far. 

and really pretty. 

like, really pretty. 

an hour or so later, abby sent a text with a link to a restaurant menu. you couldn’t help but open the message immediately. 

abby a.: is this good? 

you clicked on the link and your eyes grew wide. this was one of the places you would only eat at for special occasions. the cheapest entree was thirty dollars. there was no way you could afford that. you were a full time student living off of your need based scholarship and the meager wages you received from your work study job. if you looked you would probably see double digits in your checking account. 

you: this looks rlly nice but idk if i’ll be able to afford it 

you: i’m srry!!

before you could lock your phone, the grey bubble appeared again.

abby a.: don’t worry i invited you. i’ll grab the check. 

the idea of being indebted to her made you uneasy, but you couldn’t bring yourself to disagree with her. you didn’t want to seem high maintenance. 

your 8AM was your only class of the day, so in normal fashion you gallivanted around campus and sat in front of the library, people watching, until your shift started. the older woman who worked the same desk shift as you helped you on the daily crossword, forcing the time to pass faster. 

it was a little more than an hour before you and abby were supposed to meet up when your phone vibrated. 

abby a.: i’ll pick you up. send me your address.

you had fully intended to take the twenty minute bus ride over to the restaurant. you knew the bus routes like the back of your hand on account of you not owning a car. it wasn’t as bad as everyone made it out to be. 

abby pulled up at 7PM on the dot. once you received the “outside” text you grabbed your bag from it’s designated hook near the door. 

“where ya goin’?”

you looked back to see your best friend and roommate, liz. 

“dinner.”

“like a date?”

“nah. just some girl from my class.” your hand reached for the doorknob and pulled the door open. “i’ll see you!”

“have fun. make good choices!” she called out before you could shut the door behind you. 

you peered around the parking lot, trying to find her car. you pulled your phone from your bag and unlocked it, preparing to call abby to play hot and cold until you found her. then, you heard a voice call your name. 

abby was hanging out the sunroof of her car, waving at you. you approached her car and caught the brand sigil on the front grille. it was a BMW. you didn’t know much about cars, but you knew those were expensive. you opened the doors to see a custom leather interior and a high tech touch screen on the center console. it felt like you weren’t even allowed to sit down in this car. 

“hey, sorry it’s kind of messy.” 

there were maybe a dozen crumbs on the floor mats and a couple straw wrappers in the cup holder. 

“if this is messy for you, you’d hate to see my room.” you awkwardly tried to laugh off the tension you felt. “nice car.” 

abby moved the gear shift into drive and started to pull out of the parking lot. “yeah, it’s an early graduation present. i was hoping for something a little more practical. like a subaru or something.” she immediately bit her tongue. she probably sounded so stuck up right now. “i mean, this is perfectly fine! i just…what if i have some furniture to move, y’know?” 

smooth recovery.

“no, no i get it!” you, in fact, did not get it. you would kill to be able to drive yourself across town and not have to haul your groceries along with you on the bus. 

abby’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “you can take aux if you want.” she motioned to the wire hanging out of the charging port. 

this was one of the worst things you could ever hear. now you had to carefully curate a few songs to last the duration of the short drive. shuffling your liked songs would surely end in embarrassment and you couldn’t tell what music abby would be into. you haphazardly queued a couple songs and analyzed every change in abby’s face, trying to decipher whether she liked the songs or not. to your delight she began humming along to one of the songs. 

“didn’t expect you to be into this sort of music.”

abby shrugged. “i’m full of surprises, i guess.” 

you made small talk about your major and your class load for the semester. all of the typical stuff you go over with anyone you meet in a college town. then, you discussed plans for grad school.

“i think i’m gonna take a year or two off and travel for a while. see the world and all that.” you picked up on the way abby’s eyes sparkled when she talked about it. 

“what are you gonna do about money and stuff?” finally, you had an excuse to ask how rich she was.

“my dad’s a neurosurgeon. he rolled right through undergrad into medical school with no time off. he wants me to take some time and find myself. make sure i’m committed to whatever my next step is.” 

you wordlessly nodded. the puzzle pieces fell into place. now you were almost embarrassed about not being well off. what could you possibly have in common with some uppity rich girl?

once the two of you started talking over dinner, it seemed like you actually had a lot in common. you both held a passion for the same movies, had slight overlap with your music taste, and held similar political beliefs. you had judged her a little too fast. you let her go on about her coin collection and in exchange she let you beak into a tangent about your hobbies. before you knew it one of the servers came up to your table. 

“hey folks, i brought the check over for you. take your time.”

you were mortified when you saw it was thirty minutes after close. if your server hadn’t practically run off you would’ve offered an apology. 

you instinctively peeked at the check and saw three digits. your shock must’ve been obvious as abby snatched the receipt holder from you. 

“i told you, i’ve got it.” she put down a heavy metal card and you were once again reminded about the difference in your tax brackets. 

dinner had gone so well it became a weekly endeavor. every wednesday you met up with her so she could show you a couple different spots around town. every time she paid the bill before you could even say anything. whenever you mentioned wanting to read some newly released book that the library hadn’t ordered yet, she would shyly present it to you the next time you two saw each other. weekly dinner dates turned into coffee dates between classes, which turned into study dates at home. she learned your coffee order and work schedule so she could occasionally pop into the library while you were working and deliver you a treat. you became inseparable rather quickly. often walking hand in hand across campus after your seminar. 

liz caught you smiling at your phone and peered over your shoulder. 

“hey, hey! what happened to privacy?” you scolded. 

liz looked you up and down. “what’s going on between you two? always texting, always facetiming, always hanging out.”

“nothing! we’re just friends.” 

it was clear she didn’t believe you. “there’s no fucking way y’all are ‘just friends’.” 

“i can be just friends with a girl!” 

“mhm. sure, sure.” liz left you to study (read: spend your entire night texting back and forth with abby). 

that night when you laid in bed, you finally gave your relationship some thought. were you two “just friends”? you were used to burying your semi-romantic thoughts about your female friends. that had been your MO ever since you discovered you were gay. you tried not to think about abby in that way. you were so excited to make a new friend, you couldn’t bear potentially ruining things with those thoughts. 

you two were just close friends. that’s it.

that’s all it would ever be. 

abby a.: goodnight see you in the morning <3

unbeknownst to you, abby was also spiraling about your relationship. had the little heart been too much? she was trying so hard to be subtle. either you were completely uninterested or she wasn’t being obvious enough. what was she supposed to say? “i think i have a crush on you” was way too forward. what if you didn’t feel the same way? now she would look like an idiot and have to bear the next couple months showing up to the same class as you three times a week. 

even worse, you were the first girl abby had ever properly pursued. her breakup with owen forced her to finally contemplate if she ever actually loved him. well, of course she loved him, but was she ever in love with him? after a month she had decided it had never been the latter. that had been nearly a year ago and in that time she had never actually made an effort to seek a relationship with anyone romantically. she made out with girls at parties, hooked up with one girl months ago, but this was different. she wanted your dinner dates to be real dates. to sleep with you in her arms. post you on her story with a caption that said ‘my girlfriend is so beautiful’. 

how the fuck was she going to make this work?

she laid awake drafting different text messages and formulating different scenarios where it would be appropriate for her to confess to you. 

that weekend abby invited you over for a sleepover. nothing too crazy. just wine, takeout, and a movie. the hour it took for you to respond was possibly the worst hour of her life.

you: omg sounds fun!! i’ll finish up my work at 8?

abby breathed a sigh of relief. she spent the next several hours stress cleaning. her entire house was pristine by the time she was meant to pick you up. 

confessing to you over text almost felt disrespectful. the wine would compensate for her intense fear of rejection. if you didn’t reciprocate, she’d just politely call you an uber and that would be that. the prospect of ignoring her feelings for you until the end of the semester trumped her fear of having to be in the same classroom with a girl who rejected her. 

she just couldn’t take it anymore. 

when she pulled into the driveway of your apartment she saw that you were already waiting outside, a small duffel bag in hand. 

you happily trotted over to her car and hopped in. the seat was perfectly adjusted for you as always. you took over aux without abby prompting you to. 

you always got the passenger princess treatment. 

abby listened to you tell her every intricate detail of your day. the dog you got to pet on campus, how the coffee shop messed up your order and you were too scared to tell them, and the crossword you weren’t able to finish because your usual coworker wasn’t on shift. 

while she was happy to listen to you, all she could think about was the fact that this may be the last time she got to hear your daily musings. 

“you okay, babe?” 

the hairs on the back of her neck always stood up when she heard you call her that. 

“i’m fine. just thinking about this assignment i forgot to finish.”

“i can help you when we get home. as long as it’s not your orgo chem class. you’re on your own with that.”

no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, you could feel the tension in the air. something was off, but you couldn’t tell what. abby was speaking less and just seemed out of it in general. every time you asked if she was okay it was always the same 

“i’m okay. don’t worry.”

you brush it off and carry on with the night as if all was normal. you ordered chinese food from your favorite hole in the wall restaurant and plopped down on her couch. it took you thirty minutes to decide on a movie, the two of you debating the pros and cons of every option. it didn’t take long for the food to be delivered and after abby gave you permission to eat on the couch you dug into your food.

“is this your first meal of the day?” abby knew you were terrible at taking care of yourself. not that she was much better.

“shut up.” you uttered through the food in your mouth. 

a few minutes into the movie, abby offers you a blanket which you eagerly take. you rest your legs over her lap and lay back against one of the throw pillows. abby almost felt wrong touching you. she had plans to irrevocably change your relationship before the night was over. 

would you be able to stay friends with her after?

“do you want wine? i figured rosé would be a safe choice.” 

you affirmatively hummed, prompting abby to rush off into her dark kitchen. she just needed a few moments to breathe. 

“can i ask a stupid question?” you called from the living room. 

abby felt the need to dry heave. “maybe.” was all she could offer as a response.

there was a few moments of uncertain silence before you spoke again. “liz is convinced we’re like…dating, or something? is there something going on between us?” 

you were always so forward. it was a trait of yours that abby admired. except this time. 

like the day you first spoke after class, you had completely derailed her scripts and scenarios.

“i…don’t know?” the question had her hands shaking so bad she couldn’t pull the cork out of the wine bottle. 

you hummed once more. “i don’t know either.”

the movie filled the uneasy silence between the two of you. abby was panicking and you surprisingly weren’t. 

“i think i like you.” you were the first to break the silence. “wait, that sounded really childish. i just…you know what i mean.” 

finally, abby could exhale. 

“i’m sorry. did i make things weird?” 

abby rushed back into the living room and saw you cocooned in her blanket, partially shielding your face from her.

“holy fuck. no, no!” she tripped over her words, trying to skip to whatever part of the script she intended to use for this exact moment. finally, she cleared her throat. “that’s kind of why i approached you the first time. i mean, i’m glad we became friends!” once again, she felt the need to backtrack. “when i first saw you in class i thought you were really pretty. i’ve been trying to work up the nerve to say this from the first time we met.” 

you finally met her gaze. abby was shocked to hear you giggle. “that’s sweet.” you reached out for her, beckoning her to come sit next to you. “i wish i had known. you’re always acting so mysterious about your feelings.” you teased. 

you sat up and loosely wrapped your arms around her shoulders. “so…was your plan to corner me here and bombard me with your confession?”

“okay, it sounds weird when you say it like that.” how had you read her intentions so accurately?

“i don’t hear any denial.” abby refused to answer. she had suffered enough tonight. “enlighten me, what was your plan if i said i liked you back?” 

abby shrugged. she really hadn’t expected to get this far. she spent more time planning for a rejection than reciprocity. 

you leaned into her. “well, i think you should kiss me.” 

abby had been dreaming of this moment. quite literally. whenever she had vaguely scandalous dreams it was always about you. she’d wanted this for so long and here she was awkwardly fumbling as she pressed her lips against yours. 

you delicately brushed a few fly away hairs behind her ear and leaned into the kiss. you could feel the hesitance in abby’s body language and knew you’d have to be the captain of the ship for the time being. you closed the space between the two of you, now chest to chest. 

“you don’t have to be nervous.” you whispered in her ear while you moved to straddle her lap. 

abby placed her hands firmly at your hips, finally working up the courage to just touch you. the movie was long forgotten when she lost herself in your kiss. her hand made it halfway up your shirt before she broke the kiss. 

“is that okay?” 

you giggled against her lips. “yeah, have at it.” 

the joking tone eased her mind and emboldened her. her hand found its way fully under the fabric of your shirt, cupping your left breast. her thumb brushed against your nipple, making you sharply inhale. you grinded down against her crotch and abby whimpered against your lips. 

you couldn’t tell how much time had passed. the both of you were feeling sensitive and hot all over. you were desperate to draw those sweet mewls out of her. 

“okay, fuck this movie.” all at once you pulled away from her. abby looked like she could’ve cried at your sudden absence. “do you wanna…like…”

“yeah,” she took a moment to catch her breath. “yeah. the bedroom is this way.” she took your hand and led you past the kitchen to her bedroom that was bathed in moonlight from the wall length windows. she rushed to close the curtains before she pulled her shirt off, revealing her black sports bra. you took her hand and collapsed against her bed, tugging her down with you. 

your fingers reached for the string of her sweatpants, working them down her thighs and tossing them to the side. 

“have you done this before?” you whispered in between kisses to her neck and collarbones. 

“sort of. a while ago.” 

“well i’m happy to give you a refresher course.” you flipped abby onto her back so you could be on top. “just relax.” you hooked your fingers into the waistband of her boxers and pulled her thighs apart. 

the sex lasted for an absurdly long time. for a beginner, abby was surprisingly adept. she was a quick learner. by the end of it, neither of you had the energy to go back to the movie. you slept soundly in her arms, not even bothering to redress. 

the next morning you were harshly pulled from your sleep by an alarm. it was saturday. there was no way it was your phone. 

abby shot straight up in bed and hastily pulled her phone off of the nightstand. 

“fuck. i’m sorry. i forgot i have rugby practice.” she leapt out of bed and started digging through her closet for fresh workout clothes. “for the record, i had plans to make you breakfast and everything. the whole nine yards.”

you stretched out in her bed, missing her warmth. “oh, i’m sure.”

[eldritch-nightmare]

Can you make a scenario about how the pastas would react after an argument? Like, if the reader left to get some fresh air? (I crave angst)

-💫Anon

a/n: indeed i can my friend here's a healthy amount of (very mild) angst just for you. i'm so totally gonna use this idea in a future chapter for the silly lil scenarios book as well because uh angst. maybe the prompt got away from me just a little bit i won't lie.

how do they react after an argument?

includes: jeff the killer, laughing jack, slenderman, nina the killer, eyeless jack, jane the killer, candy pop, clockwork, ticci toby, nurse ann, x virus, kagekao, jason the toymaker, the puppeteer, homicidal liu, sully, the bloody painter, the doll maker, zalgo, and hobo heart.

warnings: the aftermath of an argument, relationship disputes, some of these are healthy and some of these are not, inconsistent length.

JEFF THE KILLER would honestly be more upset if you walked out after an argument. he's already upset enough as it is, so you turning your back to him and storming out just makes his blood boil. he won't follow after you, but he'll definitely disappear for the next few days. he really isn't the best at resolving arguments, no matter how small they are. and unless he really fucks up, then he isn't going to apologize even if he is in the wrong. he's jeff the fucking killer, what the hell does he have to feel sorry about? you should consider yourself lucky that he didn't gut you for pissing him off.

if you want to have any form of resolve to this argument, you'll have to force the conversation because he will actively try to shut you down. he can't. he literally can't. resolution is not something he is good at, and unless you're the one to apologize, even if you aren't the one who is at fault, he's just not going to let any of this resolve. does that make him an asshole? yeah, it does. does he feel guilty? just a little. does that change anything? no, not really.

LAUGHING JACK, similar to jeff, would feel more upset over you walking away from the fight rather than the fight itself. he can come off as pretty scary during an argument, especially if it's one where he feels like he's in the right. he gets frustrated easily, and he's just overall a very expressive person, so. and he can get pretty fucking mean if he wants to, so yeah honestly you needing to walk away makes complete and total sense and he knows that it makes sense but that doesn't make him any less upset.

he'll just blame it on his abandonment issues or something because seeing you leave just to go and calm down should not have hurt as much as it did. and he debates going after you but he ultimately decides it would be best if he didn't. he wants to resolve this though, and he'll try but it'll be painfully awkward because, i mean, yeah.

SLENDERMAN is, by default, a pretty scary being the begin with so i imagine an argument with it would be pretty unnerving. it isn't used to people arguing with it, that's for sure. i think it would be more amused than upset, seeing such a small being stare up at it as if trying to intimidate it... it's a cute sight to see, that's for sure. it'll keep that thought to itself, of course. it imagines that saying such a thing out loud may only make things worse.

slender won't be upset when you walk away. it understands that you're just going to cool off. it'll take this time to clear its own thoughts until the two of you are ready to talk again and clear up the tension.

NINA THE KILLER would be immensely frustrated seeing you walk away. she'll probably let out a groan and tell you to come back, but she won't follow after you. she understands that if the two of you kept arguing any longer, things would only get worse. she knows that, so she'll use this as a chance to calm down herself. nina gets over things easier than you would think, and if this argument wasn't over anything major then the next time you see her, she'll most likely be back to her usual self.

she'll probably be the first to apologize as well, even if she feels as if she's not the one at fault. she can't stand when you're upset at her, so just accept her apology so the two of you can move on, yeah?

EYELESS JACK is always viewed as mature and in control of his emotions. and he is. a little too in control if we're being honest here. for most arguments you guys may have, he'll keep his cool and will try to understand your point of view and where you're coming from. there are times, however, when the control he has over his emotions slips, and you get reminded that oh. your boyfriend is a cannibalistic demon that can literally kill you in the blink of an eye. he really doesn't mean to scare you, but it's definitely a good thing you choose that moment to walk away to cool off because he has to physically force himself to not go after you.

and once he calms down, he will apologize. it's a genuine apology, one written all over his face. he never wants to or means to invalidate you and your emotions, and he never wants to make you scared of him.

JANE THE KILLER would probably be the first to walk away from an argument, if we're being fairly honest. if this is richardson we're talking about, then she's definitely more mature about it and politely suggests that you both take fifteen minutes to cool off before continuing the conversation. she does it because it's one, a healthy thing to do for your relationship, and two, while she is heavily in control of her emotions, the liquid hate running through her veins enhances her anger and it would be really bad if she genuinely got angry.

if this is arkensaw, i think she'll be a little less mature than she would like. she portrays herself as someone in control of her emotions, but her emotions and her hatred are what drive her. she does her best to her burning-hot anger in check but if you two have an argument, then it's fairly difficult. if you walk away first, then it'll only serve to upset her more, but she won't go after you. honestly, she'll probably even avoid you in the coming days because her anger lingers. it always lingers.

CANDY POP thinks it's cute that this little argument of yours got you so worked up that you had to walk away from him. honestly hell yeah if i were you i'd walk away from him as well because there is simply no winning with this guy. worst man you could ever argue with, to be honest.

but as we all know, his mood can change in an instant with no warning so. one moment, he thinks you walking away from him is cute and adorable. the next, he's getting frustrated and following after you because you don't get to walk away from him, silly. haven't you realized that he owns you?

CLOCKWORK, while she has her own anger issues and tends to get easily frustrated by the smallest of things, does try her best to keep her emotions in check if you two ever have an argument. it's not easy, and there have been times when she's snapped at you, but she always apologizes immediately after.

you walking away would make sense. she understands, she knows that you both need to take time to calm down before things get too heated. she gets it. but depending on what you two are arguing about, doing so could only serve to make her more angry. it's... frustrating, really. she won't follow after you though, because she knows it's what is best.

TOBY would want you to walk away. he needs it, to be honest. he tries to avoid getting into arguments with you for various different reasons. arguing with you stresses him out more than he would like it to, and it reminds him of the hold you have on him. you walking away from the argument would give him time to clear his head and cool off.

once you've both calmed down, he'll probably be the first to approach you because he cannot stand the awkward tension that always lingers after arguments with people. he wants to clear the air so this can all just be water under the bridge. it'll be a painfully awkward conversation though. he's not good at... resolving arguments. never had a positive example, to be honest.

NURSE ANN struggles to speak, so i think she would try to avoid getting into an argument because she feels as if she won't be able to properly get her point across. but arguments are bound to happen sooner or later, even in the healthiest relationships. and ann, to put it simply, is a very angry person. she keeps that anger in check when you're around, but it's literally impossible to not slip up a few times.

since ann rarely ever vocally speaks, her anger is typically conveyed in her stares and her jerky gestures as she signs. you walking away is the smartest thing you could do in that moment, leaving her alone to stew in her always-burning anger that she'll choose to take out on any nearby destructible objects or some sad poor soul that just so happens to trespass at her hospital in the coming hours.

X-VIRUS seems like the type of guy who has never really been in any arguments, to be honest. maybe when he was at the orphanage he got into a few petty arguments between the other kids, but nothing that would warrant needing to walk away, y'know? and i definitely don't think he'd treat the argument seriously, brushing off your words and whatnot.

he only realizes that you were genuinely angry with him when you walked away. it's definitely like... a slap in the face that oh. i'm a fucking asshole. he's not really sure what to do in this moment, and he waits until you come back on your own to try and apologize. but he's not the best at apologies.

KAGEKAO wouldn't treat the argument seriously at all. at least, not at first. honestly, he'd probably purposefully get you even more upset just to get a reaction out of you. does that make him an asshole? oh, most certainly. he just likes seeing you feel anything towards him, even if it's anger. he likes getting a reaction out of you because it's him you're reacting to. and it's entertaining as well, though you don't need to know that.

when you walk away, he'll feel a little frustrated at not being able to see you but he won't follow after you. he knows when to stop his antics. shocking, i know. and, if you're lucky, he may even hold you in his arms once you calm down. it's his way of an apology, i suppose.

JASON THE TOYMAKER fucking hates arguing with you. you're his other half, so arguing with you makes him feel sick to his stomach because what if... what if you aren't the one? he likes you too much to lose you, so you have to be the one. he definitely seems like he'd try to keep the argument short, and he'll be relieved when you walk away to cool off.

you don't try to leave him afterward, even if he was at fault for whatever you two may have been bickering over. that's good, really. that means you want to stay with him, even if you two have arguments like this. that's... that's so good.

THE PUPPETEER can't stand when anyone argues with him, so yeah, any argument you may have with him will be horrible and tense and it will not be pretty. he has to be the one to get the final word. he has to be the one in the right, even if he isn't. you must be aware of this, right? i mean, you're (hopefully, i assume) willingly sticking around this guy, right? so you should know that there's no winning with him.

and you walking away is simply not something he'll take kindly to. it's something that'll more than likely get a how dare you reaction out of him. you're a fool if you think he's just going to let you walk away. no, he'll either follow after you, or he'll pull you back with his strings. the conversation isn't over until he says that it's over.

HOMICIDAL LIU definitely does try to avoid any potential arguments with you. to be honest, most of your arguments with him will more than likely stem from his almost blatant disregard for his health and safety when he's injured as well as his almost suffocating habit of needing to protect you and keep you safe. it's inevitable, even if it's something he tries so desperately to avoid. that desperation is what tends to lead to arguments as well, if we're being honest.

he's not upset when you walk away. honestly, he's glad that you do. he always feels pretty damn awful whenever you two fight, and he patiently waits until you're ready to pick things back up so you two can resolve things and move on.

SULLY listens to everything you say with rapt attention. the only thing that matters to him at that moment is whatever you two are arguing about. hell, he doesn't give a shit about the argument itself rather than what you say, the expressions you make, and your tone of voice. every little gesture or movement you make catches his attention. honestly, if you asked him what you two were arguing about, he'd just look at you with a slightly confused expression because he's already forgotten.

and when you walk away to cool off and get some air, he has to restrain himself from following after you. he forces himself to sit down and he bites his fist as his mind hyper-focuses on every word you said and the way you looked at him and just... yeah, he's already moved on from the argument he just wants to see your face and hear your voice again.

THE BLOODY PAINTER is definitely not someone you want to have an argument with, honestly. not because he's an angry person or scary to get into an argument with or anything like that, no. he's just... very apathetic. it'll feel like you're arguing with a brick wall rather than a person, and you'll maybe even feel as if he doesn't care about you or your feelings. he just stares at you, blank-faced and monotoned.

once you realize that this argument is going literally nowhere, you leave to calm yourself down and he stays behind. it's not that he doesn't care about you and your feelings, he does, truly, he just... well... i could go into heavy heavy detail about his apathy when it comes to arguments but to spare you the length of that, just know that he does care, he's just absolutely horrific at showing it. once you come back, he will apologize for not better expressing himself and for unintentionally invalidating you and your feelings. he'll be better, though it will take time for him to become expressive.

THE DOLL MAKER seems like the type of person who wouldn't handle arguments well, i think. he's a fairly closed-off person and has some trouble conveying his thoughts and feelings sometimes, so i think it would stress him out a bunch if he got into a fight with you. depending on how bad the argument is, he'll either try to diffuse the situation or he may get angry and make things worse.

the moment you walk off, vine will be throwing himself into work to both calm himself down and distract himself from any potentially needless thoughts. he'll certainly try his best to resolve the conflict with you once you've both taken time to calm down but it'll definitely be stiff.

ZALGO would be very amused if you try arguing with him over something. you, a silly little mortal that somehow managed to catch his interest, are trying to argue with him, an eldritch horror beyond human comprehension that literally creates chaos for shits and giggles? how adorable. he's not going to take you seriously at all, i hope you know that.

and even if you walk away, you won't exactly be alone. zalgo is always there with you, even if not physically. a part of him is stuck with you, so he's always able to watch you, to talk to you. he thinks you're being dramatic for getting upset over something that he deems to be so utterly insignificant. there won't be any form of conflict resolution with him, so don't expect any form of apology or empathy or anything of that sort.

HOBO HEART you gotta be careful with, i think. the last time he felt as if he'd been wronged by the person he loved, he tore her heart out. not to say he'd tear your heart out over a minor argument or anything like that, no, that would be pretty petty and... he doesn't really think he's a terrible enough person to do that. maybe. depending on how serious the argument is.

he'll be a little disheartened when you walk away because he would rather clear up the air and tension immediately rather than wait but he understood, somewhat, that it'd be better if you both took time to cool off before either of you tried to resolve the conflict hanging in the air.

[moosesarecute]

December 2nd

December masterlist

General masterlist

Azriel punched the training dummy once more. His knuckles were starting to become raw, but he didn’t care. He needed to punch out his feelings.

It was in the middle of the night. He had survived the first day of December, but he couldn’t imagine going through the next ones.

It hurt too much.

Everywhere he looked, he saw you. He saw your favourite café, smelled your favourite coffee or walked past the bookstore where you got all your winter romances. It was like he was repeatedly punched in the face. Everywhere he went, he was reminded that you weren’t there with him.

He had already thrown up a few times only from the empty feeling in his chest where the bond had been blooming. The emptiness always felt much more unbearable during December.

He saw so many happy couples. Not only his brothers and their mates, but also anywhere in Velaris. He saw newly married or mated fae. He saw parents with small children. He saw so much love and he absolutely hated it.

He punched the dummy once more and with such force that it fell over.

“Cassian is coming.” His shadows informed him, but he couldn’t care less.

Azriel picked up the dummy and punched it again, and again, and again.

“Az!” Cassian yelled at him and Az looked annoyed in his direction. “I’ve tried calling your name three times already.”

Azriel didn’t acknowledge his words and only kept punching the dummy. He heard his brother sigh.

“Please, Az. Don’t do this,” Cassian voice sounded almost like he was begging him.

“Don’t do what?” he almost spat back. He didn’t necessarily mean to be that angry towards his brother, but he couldn’t help it.

“Don’t shut us out. We can help you. You’re not alone in this you know. We want to help you.”

The words only made Azriel angrier. They maybe wanted to help him, but they wouldn’t understand. All of them had their mates. They were safe. None of them had failed so extremely at protecting their mate. Failed so miserably within a week of being mated.

He couldn’t save you. You trusted him to protect you, and he couldn’t. He had one job as your mate, and he was too useless to even do that.

The pain still haunted him. The pain in his chest. The missing bond screaming for him to find you and hold you tight for the rest of your life.

But he knew he probably would never hold you again.

He would never smell you or feel how warm you were. He would never see your smile or hear your laugh. He would have to live with the memories and even though it was far from enough, he didn’t have a choice.

Because you were gone.

“Are you okay?” Cassian asked.

Okay? Of course he wasn’t okay. He would never be okay. He had been okay for a week. A wonderful, amazing and completely safe week where you laid in his arms every second of every day. He would never experience that again either.

Azriel felt one of his shadows dry his cheeks and he realized he started crying. He saw Cassian grow more worried, but he couldn’t take it anymore.

Azriel left Cassian standing in the training ring. As he left, he just barely heard Cassian speak.

“We miss you.”

Annette woke up in her bed. If only took her one breath to know that today would be painful.

She carefully lifted herself up from her bed. She made her bed by moved her duvet made of animal fur into place and moved her pillow. Then, she straightened her back and stretched her wings a little. They always felt sore in the morning.

She took one step at the time as she moved into the living room. Her chest was hurting like crazy. It felt like something was trying to pull her heart out of her chest. She took one step and one breath at the time.

She just needed her medicine.

Cathrine would have her medicine.

She turned the corner and walked into the living room. It was still early, but the rest of her family was already up. They stood around a big table that held a map over the entire continent. What they were talking about, Annette never got to know, but sometimes they let her watch the map and that was her favourite thing.

Because of her heart condition, they never let her out of the house. She had to stay warm and inside so that she didn’t get sicker. A sickness on top of her heart condition would kill her.

Annette moved towards the closest chair and slumped into it. She moved her wings to make it as comfortable as possible.

“Annie! What are you doing? You need to wear at least one more sweater!” Cathrine told her. “Bru! Fetch me a blanket for Annie.”

Cathrine crunched down in front of her and tried to warm her by brushing up and down her arms as Bru came and covered her with the blanket.

“Hurts,” was all Annette managed to say.

Cathrines eyes widened a little and she abruptly stood up and found her medicine. The potion tasted awful. Even though she drank it almost every day, it never got easier. It was like her body refused it more and more.

Annette took the potion, and Cathrine helped her back into bed.

“You should rest, little one. A new day will come tomorrow. We’ll make the stew you like so much!” Cathrine tried to lighten the mood while she caressed Annette’s cheeks.

It didn’t take long before Annette was asleep once again.

Dividers by @issysh3ll

[omgsecretsecret]

Sweet Fuckboy

Pairing : Lee Minho x gn!reader (use of you/your pronouns) ; friends to ??

Genre : fluff ig ; hurt/comfort if you squint reallyyyyy hard

Word count : about 2,500

Warning : talking about sex ; HyunSung are a couple but honestly it's just barely mentioned twice (I'm just having fun so don't come after me for that please) ; no smut here but in the part 2 there will be (there will be two versions for afab and amab reader) ; cursing (fucking, bastard, bitch) ; english is not my first language

Author's note : idk this just popped in my head when I saw some My Pace era Minho pictures again ; the pics on top are not mine, credits to the owners ; lots of love to @giddyfatherchris who helped me a lot by proofreading this <3

Reminder : you are not “a baby” if you are a virgin, nor are you “a slut” if you are not

Masterlist || Part 2 afab ver & amab ver

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Minho is a fuckboy, and your closest friend. He is known for pretty much giving his dick to whoever asked him to fuck them. You know it’s exaggerated by the rumors and he does not actually fuck anybody, but it’s true that he isn't too hard to convince. It isn't bad though. People do not see him as a whore, he is seen as a boy who can help you out if you are in need of some.. relief.

You, on the other hand, have never slept with someone else. You have already tried some solo pleasure, of course, but you are a virgin. And you are tired of being one. You want to see what real sex is like.

This is how you ended up here, sitting in the school library, talking about it with your friend Hyunjin because to hell with taboos.

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"You can ask Minho, no ?

— Yeah, I guess. But I don't want him to be awkward. you reply with an unhappy pout.

— Who says he will be ? We're talking about Minho here. He'll probably tease you a bit, but he's the sweetest and most understanding guy I know under his 'do not touch me i am not nice' act. He'll stop joking as soon as he sees it makes you uncomfortable and we both know how observant he is, he'll know if it bothers you in less than a second.

— I know. But what if he just doesn't want to ? And if he's too kind to say no ? It's not every day your best friend asks you to take their virginity.

— Sweetie, calm down. Once again, we're talking about Minho here. He's an honest guy, he'll tell you if he doesn't want to do it. He knows it'd do more bad than good to force himself to do it. And worst case scenario, it'll be a little bit awkward between you for a few days, but it'll be back to normal soon. You know him, it wouldn't change the way he sees you. Hyunjin reassures as he puts his hand on yours and gives you a fond look before chuckling. Besides, he'd be stupid to refuse !

— Yeah... You're right. Minho's amazing for that. But you say that like anyone would want to fuck me. It doesn't feel like it. you pout again, playing with his long fingers.

— Well, maybe I wouldn't, because I'm already in a happy relationship with Jisung. But it doesn't prevent me from admitting that you are hot, even though I say it without being attracted to you. Plus I wouldn't be your friend if you were a bitch. And it's always better to fuck someone with a good personality. he winks, trying to make you relax slightly and it actually works as you release the pressure in your shoulders and give him a small smile.

— Mmh.. I'll see if I ask him later. you say softly and shrug before squeezing his hand lightly as a sign for him to get up too. How about we go to the cafeteria grab some food now ?"

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You leave the library and head to the cafeteria to eat with your friends, sitting next to Minho as usual. You talk normally, laughing to Felix's jokes and Seungmin’s fake gag at how lovely dovey Jisung and Hyunjin are being, until the latter started kicking your leg not so gently under the table. You roll your eyes at him, silently telling him to please stop doing that right fucking now before you throw your ratatouille on his oh so pretty and new white shirt. He immediately puts away his leg, not without glaring at you meaningfully. ‘you know I'm right’. You sigh and go back to eating while listening to the others.

It's only a little bit later though that you get the opportunity to actually talk with Minho when he turns to you discreetly and looks directly in your eyes. He seems to be feeling a mix of annoyance and concern as he puts his hand on your chair before speaking.

“Okay what’s up ? he doesn't beat around the bush when he asks you that, just being his usual honest self. You've been having a whole conversation with your eyes with Hyunjin for the past few minutes without even opening your mouth once. I would have let it be and thought it was none of my business if Hyunjin hadn't been looking at me so intensely while you were pouting, avoiding my face and just openly being unhappy. So I'm asking you. What’s up ?” he asks in a gentle and low voice despite the bluntness of his words, not wanting the boys to meddle in your business.

You sigh again. Great. Now you were going to have to tell him. He would know immediately if you lie, you didn't have a choice. You give Hyunjin a death glare. ‘thanks, bastard’. Why did he always have to be like that ?

“Look, Minmin I… Can we talk about it later ? After school we can go for a walk or I don't know. you don't even really look at his eyes as you speak, too embarrassed.

— Mmh… Sure, yeah.” he looks cautious, yet he nods and squeezes your shoulder lightly as a sign of reassurance.

He lets his arm rest wrapped around your shoulders for the rest of your lunch break, not even bothering to remove it. You're still slightly nervous, but he doesn't say anything about it, trying to not make you uncomfortable or self-conscious.

The rest of the day goes by like this. You're not really able to focus completely on your classes, a part of your mind constantly going back to the conversation you were going to have with Minho. ‘It's going to be sooo awkward if he says no’. Yet you try not to worry too much. As Hyunjin said, Minho is honest and (secretly not so secretly) very kind, so everything will be okay. With that, Minho spends the day being his caring self, even paying extra attention to not tease you too much as he senses your tension.

“Alright. This was the last class of the day. Where do you want to go to talk ? Minho looks at you patiently as you walk together.

— I don't really know, Minho. you mumble and he arches a brow in slight concern at your anxious tone.

— Okay, okay. What about we go to the grocery store to grab a little something to drink while we walk to my place ? We can pass by the park, it's always nice. he offers nicely as he looks at you fondly.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and nod, giving him a small but genuine smile. You walk together peacefully, Minho complaining about random stuff to make you laugh and distract you. By the time you reach the grocery store, you're a lot more relaxed and confident about telling him.

“What do you want to drink ? he asks as he stops in front of the cold drinks section, hands on his hips.

— I think I'm just going to take a lollipop, don't worry. you shake your hand softly for him to let it go but all he does is tilting his head to look back at you with a raised eyebrow and you can't help but laugh at his position.

— You serious ? It's hot out there, you know.

— Yes, thank you. I’m not that stupid. you roll your eyes before staring at him in disbelief when you hear him mumble a ‘not so sure’ and run after your laughing best friend, chasing him until he can't run anymore.

— I was joking ! I was joking !” he pleads as you punch his shoulder more or less lightly, still laughing.

You just pout and punch him once more before smiling at him thankfully. You know he could just push you away but he lets you do that to make you feel better.

“Seriously though, are you sure you don't want anything to drink ? he asks when you finally stop.

— Yes, sir. you answer with a chuckle and he frowns, looking at you with squinty eyes for a moment before moving.

— We’ll share a bottle of juice. he simply states. Which one do you want ?

— What ? No, Minho I–

— Let's go for this one then. he ignores you and grabs a small bottle before heading towards the store cash desk, making you sigh.

— Thank you.. you mumble and he doesn't say anything, yet you don't miss the way his lips curl up slightly.

— Here's your candy !” he says as he throws a lollipop of your favorite flavor at you.

You fight for a minute about who is going to pay until you find a nice compromise. On your way to the park before you go to Minho’s place, you forget to worry about asking him. You’re just comfortable with your best friend and it's all that matters.

“Minmin– you start but he cuts you off.

— Are you seriously going to call me like that again ? he groans.

— But it's cute ! I like it, and I'm sure that deep inside, a little part of you likes it too. And you let me call you that in the cafeteria !

— Because you looked nervous as hell. he gives you a stern look.

— You know what, whatever. I was going to ask if we could talk but forget it. you pout and turn around.

— Seriously ? Oh come on ! Do you want to talk here in the park or at my place ? he asks but you keep pouting for a second before speaking.

— Here.” you mumble as you sit on the nearest bench.

He settles next to you silently, watching you with a soft gaze as you take a deep breath. Although you're a lot calmer than earlier, you're still worried about telling him. But if you keep spiraling on that, you’ll never do it, so you cut your thoughts and begin.

“So…I don't know how to say this so I'll just ask like this, okay ? you pause, waiting for him to nod before continuing. You know that I'm.. y’know.. like.. I've never had sex... And hum.. well I-I don't want it to be like that anymore and I trust you and I know you and I know you're somewhat, like, hum… e-experienced..? So I was wondering if you could help me maybe ? you ramble in a shy voice, speaking more and more lowly with each word and by the time you're done your face is bright red.

— So you're asking me to be your first and take your virginity because I'm your best friend and I fuck regularly, right ? you look at him with wide eyes, his expression unreadable. How can he be so blunt ?

— … more or less yeah. you look down with embarrassment.

— Why did you not just say it like that ? I can't believe you were in such a state for this ! he bursts out laughing. Now I understand why Hyunjin was looking at you like that.

— It's embarrassing.. you hide your face in your hands.

— No, y/n. I’m actually very flattered, you know ? If you want me to do that, it means you trust me enough to show yourself to me without anything. And I'm really grateful for that. I’m glad my reputation can actually be useful. he smiles at you and rubs your back gently as you sigh in relief, slowly resting your head on his shoulder. But I understand why you were stressed about it.

— Yeah.. you whisper with a tiny smile, resting your head in the crook of his neck as you simply enjoy the moment. Everything feels so easy with him.

— So.. do you want to do it today ? We don't have to though if you want to wait a little. he offers softly after a small, comfortable silence. We can just start with some kissing, to see how it feels. he says before you can start panicking.

— You'd really do it, like, now ? you ask and he gives you a slightly annoyed, yet still soft, look. I-I mean… yeah, it'd be good. you blush slightly and he chuckles, ruffling your hair gently.

He doesn't reply, just carefully removes your head from his shoulder to make you look at him. He smiles sweetly as he looks at your red ears, eyes slightly widened in apprehension. He brushes a strand of hair out of your face and strokes your flushed cheek in a gentle, almost romantic gesture, before suddenly bursting out laughing. You immediately look at him with confusion, your whole body tense.

“If you're going to act this awkward we're never going to get through this. he laughs and you look down, embarrassed. It's okay. Just close your eyes and let me guide you, okay ? You trust me, don't you ?” you nod and he smiles softly.

You do as he says, closing your eyes and letting him do the rest. He carefully cups your jaw before leaning in closer and landing his mouth on yours gently. The kiss is soft and tender, and it’s so good. You melt into it as your hand instinctively reaches for his own. He takes his time, not rushing anything. He started slowly moving his lips, letting you get used to it and mirror his actions. When he pulled away and looked at you, your eyes were already opened and shining, a grin forming on your face.

“I guess you liked it. he chuckles again as you nod eagerly.

— It was so sweet ! I didn't know you were such a great kisser. And I didn't think it would feel so nice. you squeeze his hand still in yours and he looks at you fondly. You are so cute.

— So what ? Were you expecting me to be a bad kisser ? he teases.

— No ! It's not what I meant. you roll your eyes. Is it okay if I want another one ? you ask somewhat shyly.

— Sure.”

He kisses you again and it's just as good. There's still no rush, no pressure. It's just full of the tenderness and affection Minho has always had for you as your best friend. You keep going like that, kissing again and again with the same softness until you naturally move to straddle his lap carefully, arms wrapped around his neck to continue to kiss him softly again and again. It's so nice, and you feel him smile against your lips.

“I think we should maybe continue like that at my place, love. Unless you want to do it another day. It’d absolutely be okay.” he whispers when he pulls away, resting his hands on your hips and looking at you patiently.

You're a bit embarrassed at first when you notice the way you're sitting on his thighs facing him. You didn't think you were that close to him when you first moved to settle there. But you quickly forget about it, deciding it doesn't matter and you can just trust Minho.

“I think… it's a good idea.” you reply with a somewhat shy smile.

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Part 2 coming more or less soon ~

do not repost, translate or rewrite without my written authorisation

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Tender Care.

Written for a very lovely, very indulgent anonymous commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!Yor x Reader (SxF).

Word Count: 2.5k.

TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Slight Asphyxiation, Overstimulation, Implied Violence, Bad Medical Advice, Oral Sex, Delusional Behavior, and Prolonged Stalking.

[Part Two]

Your first instinct was, unimpressively, to assume that she’d followed you here.

It wasn’t the most brilliant idea that’d ever flashed across your mind, but honestly, what else were you supposed to think? You could count the number of days in the past three months you hadn’t ‘coincidentally’ run into the Forgers on a single hand, and you had to hold the precious few nights you didn’t spend helping Loid cook for his busy family or attempting to tutor Anya or trying to talk your way out of whatever family outing they’d invited you on close – if you could really call Yor showing up on your doorstep with a spare dress and a beaming smile an invitation. You couldn’t seem to get rid of them, so it wasn’t out of the question that you wouldn’t be as safe as you’d hoped in the sanctuary of an opera house two trains and three taxis away from the little apartment complex that’d become your waking nightmare. Even if it was only Yor, rather than all three. Even if she clearly wasn’t paying attention to you, her concentration solely on the man she had pinned to wall, one hand wrapped around his throat and a long, needle-like blade clasped in the other. Even if she couldn’t have known you would’ve gotten lost on your way to your seat, couldn’t have snuck into a place like this in a dress sporting so many strange, crimson stains. Even if nothing you were looking at made any sense, you couldn’t help it.

Your second instinct – when you realized that the man she had pinned to the wall wasn’t breathing, that the strange substance painted across her dress probably had something to do with the blood leaking from his throat, that you could only pray she hadn’t come here for you – was to scream.

You covered your mouth as quickly as you could, but it was too late. Yor snapped in your direction, letting the dead man fall to the ground as she turned to face you. Suddenly, as those prying crimson eyes met yours, the hallway between you and her didn’t feel as long as it had, a moment ago, the threat she presented less psychological and more immediate, more physical. Yor seemed to recover from her bloodlust before you managed to pull yourself out of your shock; her eyes widening as she took a step towards you, then another, tucking her weapon into her belt as she approached you slowly, as if her pace would be what scared you away.

And, to her credit, you didn’t move. It was one thing to dread running into your clingy neighbor in an unused wing of an opera house on the other side of town, another entirely to see that same neighbor strangling a man to death. It was all you could do to remind yourself to breathe, to try and fail to stop yourself from shaking as she came to stand in front of you. There was an airy sigh, a quick shake of her head, then her blood-stained hands came up to cup your face, to tilt your head back and force you to acknowledge her adoring stare, the tentative grin tugging at the corner of her lips – not entirely dissimilar to the expression she wore as she forced you out of your peaceful seclusion.

“What are you doing here, sweetheart?” she asked, in the same gentle tone she used when Anya got into a fight with one of her classmates, when Loid came home with bags under his eyes and only half the energy it would’ve taken to stumble to bed. “I thought you were supposed to be staying home, tonight.”

Did you? You didn’t remember that. Then again, you couldn’t remember much of anything beyond this, beyond the feeling of Yor’s warmth seeping into your cheek, the sight of her looming above you. Had she always been so tall? She couldn’t have been. If it’d always been so clear just how easily she would be able to overpower you, you would’ve moved to the other side of the country the day she and her awful husband moved in.

You didn’t respond, but Yor didn’t seem to care. “It’s alright,” she went on, as if that would be enough to stop your knees from buckling underneath you, as if that would be enough to stop you from running for your life as soon as you remembered how to move your legs. “I’ll have this cleaned up in a few minutes. Then, we can spend the rest of the night together.”

She bowed her head, ducking low enough for her lips to brush against the top of your head and linger there.

She didn’t get a chance to pull away before your legs gave out and the world around you went dark.

~

Yor’s first instinct was, of course, to catch you, smiling as your body went limp and collapsed into her arms.

Her second, rather belatedly, was to remember that she was still very much in the middle of a mission and think that maybe, just maybe, she should stage your little reunion somewhere other than her crime scene.

It helped that her time alone with you was cut short before she could let you distract her, again. For as adorable as she’d found it, your scream had drawn more than a little unwanted attention; she could already hear a rush of footsteps only a few hundred feet away, five or so civilians she didn’t have the clearance to dispose of. With a small frown, a disappointed sigh, she took you into her arms and found somewhere to stow you away – a cramped, forgotten dressing room, left neglected by those responsible for its upkeep. She didn’t bother trying to turn on the lights, relying on her limited sight to find a dust-coated vanity and lean you against a cracked mirror she could only hope wouldn’t cut you. She wouldn’t know what to do with herself if you got hurt because of her carelessness.

Even unconscious, it was clear you were already in distress. Your breathing was uneven, ragged, and she could practically feel your heart beating as she pressed her ear to your chest, even if she was glad to know it was beating at all. She’d let rose-colored joy tinge your greeting, but she now that she thought about it, Yor could remember how shocked you’d looked to see her, how shaken the sight of so much blood had left you. Oh, poor thing. She couldn’t begin to imagine how scared you must’ve been.

She couldn’t begin to imagine how scared you still were. With her head still resting against your chest, she felt you start to stir, shifting underneath her as your own restlessness brought your brief respite to an abrupt end. Your hands – still shaking, much to Yor’s shame – rose to her shoulders, shoving her away gently as you attempted to speak for the first time since you’d run into each other. “P-please, I need—Please, don’t—”

The footsteps were closer, now, a small collection of vaguely masculine voices coming into earshot. Her hand was around your throat in a moment, her palm forced over your mouth in another. You let out a panicked, muffled shriek, and Yor did what she could to hush you, to comfort you. You looked like you could use some comfort, right now.

“I know, I know, it’s scary,” she started, doing her best to keep her voice down, to make sure her hold on your throat wasn’t too tight, that she wasn’t pressing too hard on anything you couldn’t live without. It’d be a shame to accidentally snap your neck, or worse – choke you until you passed out for the second time that day. Even you wouldn’t forgive her for something like that. “Please, try to stay with me. We just have to wait until the commotion dies down, then I can explain what’s going on.”

Her excuses did little to soothe you. Her heart broke as you kicked and struggled, your nails biting into her wrist and thick, warm tears soon flooding down your cheeks. In any other situation, the sight would’ve brought her to hysterics too, but she couldn’t, she had to be strong for you. Catching her with her mark must’ve left you more off-kilter than she’d thought. You weren’t just startled, you were terrified – no, worse than that, you were irrational, past the point of anything Yor could think to say. You were—

You were hysterical.

The phrase rose up from a half-remembered conversation she’d had with Loid weeks ago, after she commented on how cutely your voice shook and wondered aloud if you were always so nervous, if there was anything they would be able to do to help you lower your guard. It was only a passing thought, an ill-advised suggestion, something he’d mumbled about in a state of exhaustion and refused to mention again after a full night’s rest. Pelvic massages, he’d called them, an outdated treatment administered to women experiencing fits of extreme emotion. Often administered without consent, let alone proper documentation.

‘Outdated’, Loid had called it, but he never said ‘ineffective’.

Yor took a deep breath, steeling herself. She tightened her hold on your throat until each shallow breath took every last drop of your concentration. Only when she was sure you didn’t have the oxygen to cry out did she let her palm fall away from your mouth – taking to the space between your thighs, instead. “I’m going to help you,” she whispered, more for herself than for you. “Just… just let me do this for you, please.”

Her voice shook as she found the hem of your dress. Thankfully, your skirt had pooled around your thighs when she set you on the vanity, meaning she’d only just started to blush by the time she’d dragged it up to your waist. She tried to think about how Loid would handle this, about how he would handle you, but nervous static overwhelmed her more rational thoughts the moment her fingertips made contact with your panties, already damp where the fabric pressed against your slit. That was good. A doctor would’ve thought that was good, surely.

Yor couldn’t help but think that it was great – just how quickly you’d gotten wet for her.

She slipped too fingers underneath the thin material, pulling it to the side. In response, you let out a noiseless whine, only identifiably by the slight reverberation of your throat against her palm, and tried to shut your legs, to stop her from helping you. She worked a knee between your legs before they could close completely, forcing your thighs apart and finding your clit with her thumb, eager to prove how useful she could be before you tried to shut her out again. Admittedly, she wasn’t the most experienced caretaker you could’ve had, but she tried to picture the anatomical models she’d seen in Loid’s study, to think of the way she touched herself when she had a excuse to let herself into your apartment, when she was surrounded by things that smelled like you and unable to hold herself back. Slowly, carefully, she started to circle the bundle of nerves with the pad of her thumb, mindful not to hurt you or leave you feeling neglected, unloved.

When you bucked against her, she only held you more securely. Soon, her chin rested on your shoulder, quiet coos and words of comfort falling past her lips as she slid two fingers into your pussy and scissored them apart, savoring how you clenched around her. You weren’t in a relationship (she would’ve noticed if you were, would’ve made sure no one else got close enough to hurt you), and while she wasn’t sure how often you… how often you took care of yourself, it couldn’t have been often enough. All she had to do was curl her fingers, flick her wrist, pay a little attention to your clit, and you were practically melting around her. As your slick began to drip down the inside of your thighs, she added a third digit, and your body stiffened underneath her touch, a pair of hands shooting up and taking hold of her shoulders. You really were adorable, she thought, as your nails bit into her skin. You really did need her.

It took more than a little strength to remember why she was doing this, to keep herself from leaning into your affection and keep her pace steady, her tempo constant. The most self-indulgence she allowed herself was a stolen kiss to the curve of your neck, right above the point where her hand wrapped around your throat, then another to your collarbone, a satisfied hum escaping despite her best efforts when she realized you were wearing the low-cut dress she and Loid had gotten for you, last time you accompanied them on a day-long shopping trip. Still, it wasn’t enough to stop her heart from skipping a beat as you stiffened, as your pulse raced underneath her palm and the walls of your pussy convulsed around her fingers. Your mouth fell open, but she managed to keep any sound you might’ve made silent as she brought you to your first climax; your orgasm gentle, but intense enough for her to draw out for minutes before it ended and left you limp, clearly exhausted. Your eyes flickered up, meeting hers in a wordless plea to stop, but she couldn’t afford to be soft with you, not when your own well-being was at stake. Not when you so clearly needed her help.

Tearing a strip of material from the ringed collar of her dress, she pushed an apologetic kiss into the corner of your lips and fastened the makeshift choker around your neck, tight enough to keep you quiet, tight enough to make sure you’d have that pretty, glassy-eyed look for just a few minutes longer. She couldn’t hear the civilians anymore, but then again, she couldn’t hear much of anything over the sound of her own heart beating in her hears as she kneeled in front of you, her hands keeping your thighs spread open as she buried her face between your thighs, mouth latching onto your dripping pussy as if by instinct. Attempting to think about what was medically necessary, what was best for your health was beyond her, now, as her tongue lapped over your entrance, as she tasted you for the first time and found pure euphoria between your thighs. For all the joy she felt, she wasn’t surprised. She’d always known you’d be the sweetest thing she ever tasted.

Any noise you might’ve made was quickly replaced by the slick noise of sucking, lapping, savoring. It was messy, not as calculated as she wanted to pretend to be or as tender as it had been whenever she imagined your first time together, but Yor’s best traits had always lied with her passion, her brute strength, and it only took seconds for you to let out a breathy, muffled sob of a moan, to grind stiltedly into her mouth as she swallowed down everything you had to give her. This time, she didn’t attempt to pull away, to act like she could let that much distance form between you and her. Loid had called it a treatment, right? No, it wasn’t a question, she was sure – this was supposed to be a treatment.

And, as far as Yor could tell, that meant she’d have to help you until you were completely, entirely, absolutely better.

No matter how many hours it took to cure you, she wouldn’t leave your side until you’d made a full recovery.

[lapsthings]

I flunked my math paper again so here's how I think the blue glockers will do in ascending order (no glaze)

0-49%

Zantetsu Tsurugi 🤓

Sad thing is, he genuinely tried. He really gave it his all, immersing himself in study materials for the past week to ensure he was fully prepared. You could find him studying anywhere—whether in the cafeteria, passing through the halls, or even coming out of the toilet. He went to bed the night before confidently, walked into the exam hall confidently, sat down confidently, and handed in his paper confidently. When he received his paper back, he thought the big fat zero on the front meant he made zero mistakes

Igaguri Gurimu 🤡

Whines about studying, but ends up doing it because his parents forced him to. He grumbles as he picks up his book, pumps himself up for a motivational boost, but gives up after skimming the first page. Has the audacity to complain when he gets a failing grade

Gagamaru Gin 🐨

He lives in the forest, so Goatmaru was probably never exposed to the concept of education

Just kidding, surprisingly he does go to school, but my point still stands

Don Lorenzo 🧟

Sorry, bro grew up on the streets, he never went to school 💀. He picked up some basic numeracy from Snuffy, but that’s about it. Couldn’t care less though—you don't need to know about angles to count your cash, okay?

Raichi Jingo 💥

He forgot there was a test but somehow believes he can wing it. His overconfidence is bound to crash and burn when he gets his results back

Bachira Meguru 🐝

He casually picked up his textbook, flipped through all the pages, and called it a day

Charles Chevalier 😝

If someone doesn't specifically tell him to not study, he won’t even bother. Pretends to look up how to solve equations on YouTube, but he's really just watching Skibidi Toilet

Rin Itoshi ⚽

Surprise surprise, apparently he's only fluent in English and sucks at everything else

Otoya Eita 🥷

He’s got the potential to do well, but he’s too busy having fun with girls. Stealthy enough to copy off someone without the invigilator noticing, but gets caught anyway because he forgot to change up his workings

Kunigami Rensuke 🏋️ (post-wildcard)

He does not care 😭

Nanase Nijiro 😇

He gave his all in hopes of passing, but despite his best efforts, he fell short by a few marks :(

50-69%

Kiyora Jin 🍇🍬

He only puts in the bare minimum effort, so he barely makes the cut. Always hovering on the borderline between success and failure

Sendou Shuto 🩷

Goes like “Heh, I didn’t even study,” but the truth is he crammed everything the night before. Manages to pass though, good for him

Tokimitsu Aoshi 💪

He’s plagued by self-deprecating thoughts before, during, and after the exam. He's slightly more confident since his favorite subject is math, however his low self-esteem causes him to overthink, continuously changing his answers. Even after finishing, he’s constantly rechecking everything to avoid careless mistakes. Overwhelmed by anxiety when he gets his paper back, but lights up when he sees he got a decent grade

Aryu Jyubei ✨

He often stares at his study materials, but rarely does more than that. Instead of panicking about how under prepared he is, he’s too busy stressing over a big fat pimple on his forehead. Still ends up with a C…so not glam

70-79%

Niko Ikki 👀

He’d rather play Yu-Gi-Oh, but knows when to prioritize. He only puts in minimal effort, yet manages to get through because he’s a chad

Kurona Ranze 🦈

He sticks to recommended study methods and puts in the necessary effort, but still struggles with some concepts, resulting in a lower grade

Kunigami Rensuke 🏋️ (pre-wildcard)

He actually studies, even reaching out to others for help when he’s stuck. Unfortunately, he forgot to double-check his work and ended up with a lot of careless mistakes

Shidou Ryusei 😈

Huh? How did he end up here?

Hiori Yo 🎮

He doesn’t invest much time in studying, usually too busy being a #gamer. Despite this, he pays enough attention in class to get a good grade

Chigiri Hyoma 🐆💗

He pays attention in class and only studies to cover what he didn’t understand during lessons. Confident in his abilities, he doesn’t spend much time preparing for exams

80-100%

Oliver Aiku 🐍

Believe it or not, he actively listens in class and is disciplined when an exam is coming up. Very chill during the test, but instead of checking his work, he’s checking out girls

Alexis Ness 🪄

You cannot tell me he’s not a teacher's pet. He pays attention in class, completes his work diligently, and can be found in the library during lunch. He has a very organized study plan, so he avoids careless mistakes

Michael Kaiser 🌹💙

He’s smart enough to decipher complex formulas, dissecting problems before arriving at solutions using his own understanding. He truly is the goat

Yukimiya Kenyu 📸

Quite literally a model student. He’s a bit like Ness, but he also participates in group studies

Barou Shouei 👑

Of course, he gets good grades—he’s the king, after all, and he doesn’t settle for anything less. When asked about his study methods, or if he actually studies, he just tells them to piss off and walks away

Isagi Yoichi 🧩

He actually studies every day for about 30 minutes. He knows the key to math is consistent practice. Politely declines any invitations to hang out until exams are over

Nagi Seishiro 💤

Bro, how? He doesn’t study, sleeps in class, never does his homework. I guess he’s just cool like that

Karasu Tabito 🐦‍⬛♥️👑

Oh, Karasu, my beautiful, beautiful…

He’s an accomplished, well-rounded student who excels in every subject, including math, thanks to his determination to avoid mediocrity. His motivation and serious approach to his studies fuel his academic success

Sae Itoshi 😐

Unlike his brother, his academic success comes naturally to him—barely puts in work, barely breaks a sweat. I think it runs in the family

Reo Mikage 💳

You'd think he hired professional tutors, but he doesn't — he’s just that amazing

[x-hotoke]

The Weakest Gojo.

content warnings: use of you/your pronouns, mean brother!Gojo Satoru, Male reader insert.

— GOJO SATORU

Gojo Y/n, the youngest and only brother of Gojo Satoru. You were always seen as a stain — a disappointment to the Gojo Clan’s family and reputation because of your illness. It affected your daily routine and abilities—making you weaker as you appear.

Your skin was paler than your usual skin tone, the skin under your eyes are sunken with the purple hue on it. You were forced to stay in your room — locked up with no entertainment other than the books they give you and your older brother, Satoru.

He always comes by and visits you every chance he gets. Sometimes he brings stuff that he thinks would entertain you for long.

He rarely sneak sweets inside your room even though it was forbidden because of your deteriorating health which the doctors never seemed to find a cure for.

But Satoru — A man of his words would scavenge the bestest of the best doctors in the whole wide world. He is indeed rich and he won't hesitate to give everything up just to see you in good health. But that's how you think of him.

He isn't always like that sweet and caring brother as you thought. You'll be lucky enough if you caught him in a good mood like this but it's one of the few rare moments you wished to experience over and over again.

He'll borderline invade your personal space and say the meanest things anyone can say to the point the Elders of your clan banned him from visiting you again but that didn't stop him though.

He'll threaten and intimidate anyone who steps in his way. What you mostly don't like about him being inside your confinement is that he annoys the heck out of you—always having that stupid smirk you hated whenever he would do things to get a rise out of you.

Something that you hated.

Whether it was a positive or negative reaction—Satoru doesn't care nonetheless—as long as he gets a reaction from you, he's done for today.

Being the Weakest Gojo means less attention and more discouraging words from the Clan.

Though you accepted it a long time ago that you'll never be good enough like your older brother, Satoru. Because even stepping outside of your confinement always ends up in the worst possible scenario.

Satoru will boast and rant to you about his day being a sorcerer and ultimately mentioning how he's the strongest sorcerer in the modern era. Unfortunately his side comments on you will never change nor be gone. He'll take every chance he gets to tease, poke fun at you, intimidate and make fun of your situation.

The first time you were able to stand all by yourself with no help, he was on his way to your confinement when he noticed you—hand on the wall—with trembling legs, trying to stand up properly outside the room.

Satoru was impressed and angry, he didn't expect this from you at all! You were always weak to stand up on your own and now here you are.

“what’re you doin’?” Satoru spoke up, stared at your trembling figure, you looked like you were about to collapse at any given time. He is indeed impressed, he didn't expect this from you at all because you aren't even capable of doing this by yourself or maybe he hasn't known yet.

You slid down the shoji screen carefully, breathing heavily. You were finally making progress! “Did you see that, brother-?”

“You aren't supposed to be out here, go back to your room.”

You furrowed your brows at him, opening your mouth to speak up but he continued on speaking. “Look at yourself. You can't even stand up properly without your legs giving up. I don't get why you still try—you’re weak. Nothing will change.”

Satoru can be a decent brother at times and will heed to whatever you want but sometimes being the strongest overwhelms him and unfortunately he pours all of the pent up anger he has on you. He’ll probably say mean things to you but that's how he shows his love!

He can be a dick sometimes but he loves you!! Just don't do something that you'll regret later on.