#please i just wanna take care of him and have him take care of me

[starzify]

sorry ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

pairing dean x fem!reader

warnings smut | fingering | p in v. | angst

MASTERLIST

Being with Dean was challenging at times, because no matter how much he trusts you or how good things really are, he's always expecting the rug to be pulled out from under him. Even if sometimes he is the metaphorical rug.

You've had many arguments before, but none of them have hurt like this. You often found yourself in bed alone, usually because the boys were out hunting or catching up on lore, and you were honestly okay with that because they were saving the world, literally. But sometimes, you missed laying next to your boyfriend.

When you came to peel him away from whatever article he was reading on the computer, he snapped at you, saying a few things that were very unnecessary. It had sent you back to bed angrier and more hurt than you had ever been before.

It only took a few minutes of harsh silence before he came stomping down the hallway and into your shared room. You didn't dare move a muscle, remaining on your side with your arms crossed and glare settled on the wall in front of you.

He took a moment to kick off his shoes and slip out of his flannel before shuffling into bed behind you, a heavy hand resting on your hip that was covered by the duvet

"Sweetheart…" He began. "Go away, Dean." You said coldly, unravelling your arms to shove his hand off of you.

"Look— I'm sorry." He rasped quietly. "Could've fooled me." He sighed. "I— didn't mean what I said, I'm just… tired. This case has been whoopin' mine and Sammy's ass." He explained. "I just wanna catch this thing before it kills anyone else. I ended up taking my anger out on you and you didn't deserve it," Dean took your relaxed body as a sign to be able to spoon you. "Fuck, honey. I'm sorry."

"You really hurt my feelings, you know?" You whispered meekly. "I know baby, I know." He murmured into your neck.

You basked in his closeness, in the strength of his arm wrapped around your softened midsection. You shivered when you felt him place gentle kisses onto the exposed skin of your neck, his strong arm holding you pressed your back harder onto his chest.

"Let me take care of you." He said softly but sultrily, his palm slipping up to cup your braless breast. You whimpered at the feeling, but nonetheless grinded back on his growing bulge as he stimulated your nipples.

"Please." You breathlessly begged.

He was quick to turn you on your back, lips slamming down on yours. He devoured your mouth, his tongue demanding entrance as his fingers slipped beneath the hem of your pajama shorts. He groaned lowly at the fact that you had no panties on.

"Was this what you were gonna give me to make me feel better?" He asked with an amused smirk painted on his lips. Your skin flushed but you nodded shyly. "If it would have helped you, yeah." You confessed sheepishly. "Can't believe I was such an asshole to my sweet girl."

His fingers teased your damp folds, sliding a finger between them to collect your slick before prodding at your entrance. Your breath caught in your throat, a small whine leaving you as he joined your lips together once more.

It was like he was trying to destroy you from the inside-out. His strong fingers worked your entrance open, the man slipping in a second finger. Your legs twitched around his arm, loud mewls passing between the both of you whenever he'd hit your g-spot.

You pulled away from your spit soaked kiss to cry out. "Dean, baby, 'm gonna cum!"

He slipped in a third and final finger. He twisted his wrist torturously, his thumb reaching up to rub furiously at your clit. Your hand gripped desperately at his wrist, holding it to your body as you desperately rode his hand.

"There you go, sweetheart. There ya go." He talked you through your orgasm. "Dean… Dean…" You chanted his name like a prayer.

"Fuck." You heaved after taking a few moments to catch your breath. "You okay?" He asked gruffly. You nodded your head, your own fingers tangling themselves up in his spiky hair.

"I need you in me." You said as you cradled the back of his head. "Don't know if I deserve it." He said with a teasing pout.

"Ugh, just c'mere." You said with a grin, tugging your boyfriend over your body. "If you don't fuck me, then I'll be sad again. How does that sound?"

You asked playfully. "Not good." He murmured with a matching grin.

He was quick to take off his jeans, practically falling over himself to get naked as you finally stripped yourself of your own as well. Both of you were as naked as the day you were born by the time he had his cock lined up to your entrance.

His tip teased your clit, which caused you to whine in displeasure. "Dean…" He chuckled lightly. "Sorry, honey."

With his hands on either side of your head, he entered you, your head falling back in pleasure at the feeling.

"Jesus." He groaned. "Feels so good, baby." He praised. Tiny whimpers left you as he bottomed out, sheathed all the way to the hilt as your velvety walls fluttered around him selfishly.

"Shit! Please move." You begged.

Dean would be damned if you had to beg for fucking anything tonight. Pulling out slowly, he slammed his hips into yours. A loud smack resounded throughout the room, a choked moan slipping out of you.

"Ah!" His tip brushed against your g-spot pleasurably. Your nails dug into his back as he pounded into you, holding onto the taller man for dear life as he continually stretched you out.

Your velvety walls sucked him in greedily, like they were practically trying to keep him inside of you. You could feel that familiar coil in your stomach tighten continuously, a feeling that Dean had made sure you were familiar with for the past years that you've been with him.

Your pussy burned with overstimulation as you neared your end, and it made it harder for Dean to move in and out of you.

"You gonna cum, baby?" He asked through gritted teeth. "Y— yes!" You stuttered. "Cum for me then, sweetheart." Your hand slipped down to rub at your clit hurriedly, your back arching at the overwhelming feeling.

"Fuck!" You swore as you came, your chest pressed against Dean's. One of his arms held himself up as the other stretched over your back to keep your upper body anchored to him as you rode out your high.

"Holy shit." You gasped, your chest heaved with each quick breath you attempted to take.

"Best apology ever." You said with a hazy laugh.

tags: @bluemerakis @ultravi0lence14 @deansbeer @figthoughts @titsout4jackles @lanadelreyscokewhor3 @deanangel @haunteres @whisperingdaze @inspiredangel @pointocean @floralscented

cassie chats: i love how this is 10% angst and 90% smut GOODBYE 😭

[cybrasigilism]

Could you write a threesome with Nam-gyu and Thanos but Reader and Nam-gyu are topping Thanos?

Thanks!

-👽

You On Me, Me On You, You On Her (Thanos + Nam-gyu X F!Reader ONESHOT)

warning: smut | 🌽 no plot | not proofread | lowercase intended | ménage à trois | possibly OOC | f!reader | face-sitting | handjob | oral (f! receiving) | degradation | these are my interpretations of these characters, please be respectful even if my opinions of the characters differ from your own

characters: thanos (player 230), nam-gyu (player 124)

A/N: this is my first time writing for dom reader in a non headcanon format, wish me luck! also i 1000% got the title from Bounce by timbaland, of course 😈🙏

MDNI! 18+ content beneath the cut, reader’s discretion is advised

the air hung heavy with lust; sounds of sex and sweet ecstasy filling up the room as you, thanos and nam-gyu were partaking in your favourite activity.

poor thanos, he decided to get cocky and tease the two of you earlier; look where that landed him. moments ago, he was certain he had you both wrapped around his finger, and now he was truly at your mercy. with your pussy smothering his face, and nam-gyu fisting his dick, surely he would think twice before testing you guys again.

you had to admit, you could really get used to using thanos’s mouth like this. all that smooth talking he did clearly served him well; he was utterly phenomenal with his tongue. maybe the desperation came into play for the particular occasion, but you didn’t care. you preferred that, as a matter of fact. his rhythm was totally thrown, but you chalked that up to the fact that nam-gyu was for sure edging him at this point. his pained moans muffled by your sitting on his face, nam-gyu seemed to be enjoying this as much as you were.

“aww, ‘s it too much?” he taunted, lightly squeezing thanos’s cock, causing him to whimper into you. “can’t take it?” you weren’t surprised nam-gyu was being a jerk, but it was all in good fun. the sheer level of nam-gyu’s bullying made thanos dig his nails into your thighs, earning a slap from you.

“getting bold are we?” you breathed, rising from his face as he whined. “do i need you to show me why you deserve my pussy again, if you want to be a brat like that?” thanos was so overwhelmed with pleasure at this point; god, look at him he was practically crying. nam-gyu followed your lead, continuing on with the ceaseless teasing. “yeah, i think someone needs to be told how to act right— seeing as he wants to be a little bitch.”

“you’re right.” you agree, cocking your head as you look down at thanos, who even while half lidded still had a face riddled with desperation. “beg for it.” “p-pl-please… i wanna taste ya..s’ bad.” fuck, he could hardly speak he was so blissed out. you decided that you’ve been mean and, what the hell, he was fantastic at eating you.. so back on his face you sat. now that the routine was back in motion, you took no mercy in riding his face. but it was fine, both you and nam-gyu knew that thanos loved being your little bitch.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

gotta love some submissive thanos content! thank you so much for this request anon, it was fun to write dom!reader in a oneshot format! apologies if i made the reader too mean, i kind of just let loose with this one.

as per usual, if you have any advice/constructive criticism on how i can improve my writing it is greatly appreciated and requested! have a fantastic day/night lovelies 💋

tags: @gongyoosgf @kouzih @strangelife122 @kvstjwonnie @pink-apples001 @fiicalapsiholoaga @gabbystinks

[pshbites]

GIVE ME ONE MORE KISS, KISS, KISS ━ sjy

pairing : bf!jake x fem!reader genre : fluff, est relationship warnings : none! synopsis : just before you can leave for a girls night out your clingy boyfriend tries to hold you captive with kisses wc : 0.7k a/n : YES this is inspo off of no doubt and YES i know its unoriginal but these lyrics scream clingy!jake ;)

if u enjoyed pls like & reblog, feedback is always appreciated!!

jake pouted, watching you do your makeup. “okay but why can’t i come!” he whined for nth time, making you laugh. “baby for the last time, it’s a girls night there isn’t gonna be any guys there” you shook your head, applying your blush. “c'mon baby you know i don’t care about other guys, i wanna go with you” he frowned, clutching your pink pillow tighter in his chest. 

jake was.. a clingy boyfriend in the most loving way possible. he was never jealous or insanely overprotective, he was just a little clingy! you couldn’t say much because the two of you were as equally as clingy with one another but you hadn’t seen your girlfriends in so long that you were yearning to go out with them. jake would never stop you from seeing your friends but he would whine and pout about it as he was doing now. 

“baby if the other girls were bringing their boyfriends i would! but they aren’t. plus it’ll only be a couple hours” you reassured him, not knowing he would only react bigger. “hours?!?” he groaned out, still clutching the same pillow. you laughed a little, finishing up your makeup. “don’t laugh! you look so good just stay with me!!” jake whined, watching you turn around in your vanity chair. “you’ll live baby i promise” he pouted once more, shifting so he could sit criss-cross on your bed. ”can i just come with? i swear i’ll mind my own business please” he said again, watching you make your way over to your full length mirror. 

you looked at his reflection in the mirror and smiled, laughing softly. “for the last time baby its a girls night!” you replied, jake now getting up to lean against the wall next to the mirror. “yeah but it’s like i wont be there! cmon please” he flashed you his puppy eye which would’ve worked but you were already ready to leave! its not like you could just change and then stay home but jake sure seemed to think that was the solution to his problem. you laughed, pushing his shoulder away slightly. 

many people would be annoyed to have a boyfriend that was as clingy as jake was but you knew it was out of love, and to be fair you had no room to judge because just last week you made him get off of his game to watch a show you wanted to watch with him. so you didn’t mind that jake was now in the state that you were in that night.

“baby for the last time, i can’t just bail on them and you can’t come with! i promise next time i’ll convince them to include our boyfriends, okay?” you looked at jake, looking his big doe eyes and he sighed out, admitting defeat. “fine.. text me everything okay! and whatever pictures you take, send them to me like the second you take them!” he said, now a bit more serious and a little sad. “of course i will baby, walk me out?” you held out your hand in front of him and he grabbed it, the two of you walking out of your room and to the front door. 

at the front door, jake let go of your hand to let you put on your shoes and jacket as he leaned against the wall, watching you. more like admiring you but you weren’t paying attention to him looking at you. you looked up and saw him smiling. “can i get a goodbye kiss since you’re leaving me for hours.” you rolled your eyes playfully at his dramatics and walked over, placing a peck on his lips. “that good?” you mumbled, smiling at him. jake pondered for a second then shook his head ‘no’. “one more” he said, angling his head so his cheek was facing you, you smiled and kissed his cheek. “ah you have to do the other one too” he turned his head the other way so the other side of his face was facing you. you kissed his cheek once more and leaned back. 

“that good now?” you said, hoping he would agree but as you expected he shook his head, making you laugh. “jake i really gotta go” you whined out, hoping he would just let you go. he sighed and groaned. “fine fine, go have fun” he spoke out, shutting his eyes in a playful manner. you laughed, shoving his shoulder and heading to the door. “bye bye baby” you waved and jake kept on waving until you shut the door, making you smile at his silly antics. 

taglist : @cupidhoons @leeechin @chobunz @wensurr @ja4hyvn @kozumesphone @17ericas @suneng @hyunnies-world @kiss4noo @jellyluv4eva @heelariously @laylasbunbunny @silquids @squiishymeow @heeambi @yourmomssneakylink @rriribelle @srehyaps @bubblytaetae @t1iqaa @en-heedeungie @wintertxt @sweettaitea @beatrizmel-472 @i03jae @jakef3ver @mamuljji @coqhee @luvyou2ooo @thedemonriot @justalittle-hee @jjongsaengzz @beigerin @mariahxrrera @cherrybeomm @vveebee @mitmit01 @blockbusterhee @yeehawnana @mochamvgz @livelaughluvryanreynolds @ami-soph @sunghoonsperfume @tzyunaes @cripplinghooman @sunooblitz @kolawnk @ningningiloveumarryme @m1kkso @ronniee-26 @wavetokgv @baerinaa @laylasbunbunny (bold cannot be tagged)

enha taglist

© all rights to pshbites 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost my works

[reidphobic]

hey!! i would like to request something with prompt #85 “Th-There are people outside this door—” “Well, this isn’t about them, is it?” with neighbor reader.

maybe they’re meeting the team for the first time or on a date…spencer being handsy all evening and can’t control himself so you just have to drag him somewhere private and have your way with him he’s so relieved but can’t stop thinking that someones gonna walk in on them🤭

spencer’s always so clingy. you like to pretend at annoyance, swat his hands away teasingly, click your tongue. but you adore it, adore him. today, his hand is sliding up your thigh in the booth at o’keefe’s, tantalisingly close to where you want it. his friends are distracted enough that he’s emboldened, pressing a soft kiss behind your ear and murmuring i want you. can we go home? nobody will notice.

you grin. i’m having a nice time, honey, you tease, taking a long, exaggerated sip of your drink. but his puppy eyes are oh-so tempting. i’d offer to drag you into the bathroom, but… you trail off as spencer shudders. he leans in, so close that his lips brush the shell of your ear. please, mommy. i need you. you go hot all over, swallowing a moan as he wears your control thin. then, you look up, meet the bartender’s eyes, and an idea strikes you.

c’mon, honey, you say, pulling spencer to his feet. he scrambles up eagerly, tugging at your arm in his haste. his face falls when you stroll up to the bar. daniel, you say sweetly. can you let us in the back, just for five minutes? he gives you a look. okay, ten. spencer raises an eyebrow. fine, fifteen, tops. daniel sighs. fifteen minutes and i’m dragging you out, i don’t care what you’re in the middle of. you smile, drag spencer by the hand. thank you! you’re the best.

i used to work here. they love me. you explain between hungry kisses, sliding your hands under spencer’s sweater. well, sweetheart? got what you wanted. tell mommy what you need. spencer swallows thickly. th- there are people outside this door—

well, this isn’t about them, is it? c’mon, honey, we’re running out of time. he pouts. wanna taste you. you grin. go ahead, sweetness. you pull your dress up above your hips, let spencer drag your panties down to your knees and drop to the floor. you whine, hands scrambling for purchase against the door as he buries his tongue in you, greedy hands grasping at your hips and pulling you down against his mouth. he’s starving for it, frantic, lapping at your hole and biting gently at your clit, your head spinning as you struggle to keep yourself upright.

good boy, you moan, threading your fingers into his hair and tugging, whimpering as he sucks on your clit. taste so good, mommy, spencer groans into you, and you feel the words vibrate through your core. you’re falling apart on his tongue before you know what’s happening, biting hard on your lip to stifle your moans. that’s my good boy, baby, you say, legs shaking as you pull spencer to his feet, his lips and chin still soaked with you. you rub your thumb across his skin, collect your own arousal and press it into his mouth. feel better? you tease. you gonna make it to the end of the night before you try and jump my bones again?

[chosolace]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ wanna be yours!

gojo satoru x shy!femreader

THIS IS A REPOST

part 1

mdni please! there are sexual themes.

flirty!satoru did his best to respect your wishes but he was losing his mind. with each day passing where he didn't hear from you, his overthinking got worse. what happened for you to distance yourself from him seemingly out of nowhere?

flirty!satoru refused to go out of his penthouse unless it was severely urgent. he would get his groceries delivered or ask either suguru or shoko to buy it for it. The two tried their best to get him to at least walk around his complex but satoru would drag his body weight, making it difficult to even get him up. it got to a point where shoko threatened him that she was going to tell you how disgusting he was being. (as mean as it was, it sure got the job done)

flirty!satoru had his phone basically glued to his hand. constantly refreshing his feeds and checking everyone's stories to see if you would be there in the background. it was his only solace, seeing you happy even if he did feel like he was there was a boulder on his chest that made him feel suffocated.

flirty!satoru who sat up instantly the millisecond he got your text. it didn't matter that it was 2 in the morning, he was responding to your message ASAP.

hey satoru I hope you're doing well. is it alright if I call you? 2:33 am

he replied with a quick "yes of course", and he didn't care if he sounded desperate, because well, he was. he's been waiting for you to reach out ever since he got that text a few weeks ago.

his heart feels like it's going to burst out of his chest, each heartbeat thumps harder than the previous. he watches as his phone lights up with your contact photo and name, the ringtone blasting. within the second ring, he picks up, greeting you with a shaky voice.

"hi satoru," he hears your nervousness through the phone. your voice is nasally and he can make out the soft sniffling, but he stays quiet. "how have you been?"

satoru contemplated on what to say. should he be honest, or should he lie and say that he was doing well without you?

"better now that I can hear your voice." his heart rate sped up as he hears you soft laugh, "how about you?"

you sigh before you answer. "I'm in a dilemma to be honest."

"wanna tell me what it's about?" he urges, hoping he'll get the answer he's been looking for. satoru puts you on speaker and lets his phone drop onto his bed, his full undivided attention on you.

"well it's about you... kinda," you drift off before you continue. "the night before I sent you that text, I was working and someone asked me out."

satoru pleads in silence that this was not going where he thinks it's going. with this anxious feeling creeping up on him again, he doesn't say anything.

his uncommon reticence worries you but you carried on with the story.

"I didn't go out with him if that's what you're thinking of. I like you too much to do that. it just had me thinking because we spent months being more than friends, but am I the only one who feels that way?"

"no of course not!" satoru retorts, "I promise that it's not one-sided. why do you feel this way?"

it took you a few minutes to gather your thoughts, but satoru doesn't rush you. he hears a shaky exhale before you speak up, "I've noticed that you're flirty with everyone. you're not shy with touching other people and it just makes me feel like maybe it's wrong of me to feel special when I'm not the only one you've done these things with..."

flirty!satoru doesn't invalidate your feelings. he acknowledges each and every reason why you feel the way you do. satoru takes his time explaining that yes, he may be flirty and he's quite touchy, but it's different when it comes to you. the things he's done with you, he's never done with anyone else despite him having exes. although it's almost been a year since he's met you, the butterflies have never gone away and that each day his feelings grow.

flirty!satoru continues listing all the reasons why he loves likes you. he assures you that he may look like a fuckboy, he's far from it. he reminisces the time he had suguru psych him up to get your number because he's never had to ask for anyone's number (humble brag from him). he exhales a sigh of relief that the story earned a giggle from you.

flirty!satoru debates on telling you, but decided on keeping his plans of asking you out a secret. he wanted to prove to you that you're it for him and that there's no one else but you. satoru's big on actions speaking a lot more than words, so before he asks you out, he wants you to feel secure.

flirty!satoru posts you on his story constantly!!! whether you're out on a grocery run or a mini road trip for the long weekend, you can always count on satoru posting a soft launch story that has you in it. you don't know it, but satoru also has a secret instagram account, and the only thing he posts on it are pictures of you with the dates on it and a small paragraph of what you guys did that day. he likes to think it's modern-day scrapbooking.

flirty!satoru is obsessed with calling you nicknames, and as much as he loves saying your name - he will never not love calling you sweet nicknames like pretty girl, honey, or baby. satoru's fond of how your cheeks turn red and how you try to cover your face when he calls you any nicknames. it gives him cuteness aggression so bad, he ends up pinching your cheeks!

flirty!satoru can see how your eyes drift to look at his lips when you're talking to him face to face. you think you're so slick with it but satoru's quicker. whenever you do that little triangle trick you saw on tiktok, he leans in so he catches you by surprise. he observes with gleaming eyes as you back up to give yourself distance from him, but he just wraps his arms around you, pulling you towards him as he says, "hmm what was that baby?"

flirty!satoru has to hold himself back whenever he sees a customer come up to you and try to flirt with you. first and foremost, flirting is his thing! and second, he gets so jealous that sometimes he can't contain himself and ends up intervening. he'd make some stupid excuse to get you to leave like "hey I think someone clogged the toilet, can you check it please?" or something like that. you have to clean the stinky toilet but seeing satoru jealous is always a plus.

flirty!satoru is shocked when you made the first move and kissed him one night. it was the fact that you were sober too that surprised him even further. with you on top of him as he's sitting relaxed on the couch, his attention on the tv screen is stolen when you press your lips against his. the kiss, a seemingly innocent peck on the lips, turned into a heated make out session when satoru let go of his inhibitions. his hands roamed all over your body as his lips continue peppering kisses onto your cheeks, your jaw, and even down to your neck. satoru trails his hands from your body to hold your face gently so he can give you a final kiss before hugging you tightly.

flirty!satoru throws out all his ideas of asking you out, and opts for an intimate moment. on a cool wednesday night, he takes you back to his penthouse as per usual. he opens the door and waits to see your surprised face. he boasts that he decorated the place all by himself and even burned himself a few times with the hot glue gun to make the giant heart sign asking for you to be officially his (ngl it sounds like he's proposing but I mean who doesn't wanna marry satoru). obviously you said yes! let's just say that the heart balloons that were hanging and the flower petals scattered all over his living room were everywhere the morning after and cleaning it all up was tedious...... (but at least it was a fun night!)

flirtybf!satoru immediately changes all his profile pictures on every social media he has to pictures with you. his bio? your initials. his stories? all of you. he does not gaf he wants to show you off! the best part is satoru only follows a couple of people — you, suguru, shoko, and a few of his close relatives. satoru wants you to know that he only cares about you and only you. he never wants to and never will make you feel like you're in competition with anyone.

flirtybf!satoru is a no bs type of guy. now that your relationship was out in the open, you've gotten so many dms from other people trying to sabotage your relationship. satoru did not spend almost half a year proving his love to you for some jealous losers to try and break it, so he blocked the people who dmed you from his account and privated it.

flirtybf!satoru loves going on vacations with you, especially if it's a destination you've been telling him about. he'll almost always keep it a secret so that you don't have to worry your pretty little head about anything. costs, booking it off, transportation, he takes care of everything so the only thing you need to do is pack your bags. satoru loves how carefree you are when you're away from everyone else, and it's just the two of you in your own little world.

flirtybf!satoru is insatiable. his sex drive is so incredibly high, you wonder where his stamina comes from since he rarely did any sports. the first time you had sex, he wanted to take it slow because he wanted to savour the time with you. even though you were close when you two were just friends, having sex was a different level of intimacy. satoru wanted to show you that to him, this was not just a fuck that a one night stand will give you, no. it was making love, and he'll spend the whole night — dusk to dawn — just to show you how much he loves each and every part of you.

flirtybf!satoru started working out during his free time. he overheard you telling your friends that you love a man with a sleeper build, and well whatever his love wants, you will get. it doesn't take long until he starts seeing the fruits of his labor. he seldoms wear a shirt when he's home with just you, choosing to just wear a pair of sweatpants that he doesn't bother tying up so you can see the waistband of his calvin klein boxers. even though you two fuck often, he thinks it's so captivating that you still get bashful whenever he's being coy with you.

flirtybf!satoru loves talking about the future with you. he'll often ask you what kind of house you see yourself living in with him, and he'll make sure to get every little detail you're telling him. you've already moved into his penthouse after he begged for days for you to leave your apartment and just live with him. he takes notice of how you decorate and makes a mental note of it. satoru will make sure to say "when we have kids" or "when we're married", because he knows you're his endgame and he just can't wait for the day he's been looking forward to since he fell in love with you.

flirtybf!satoru surprises you with a trip to your dream vacation that you guys didn't get to go to before. the weather was horrendous, so the flight was cancelled but satoru booked another one closer to your birthday. he didn't tell you about it because he had a plan to make your birthday extra special. after you were done packing, he tells you that he'll meet you in the car. before satoru leaves the penthouse and locks the door, he double checks that the engagement ring is packed securely in his bag.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

hi everyone! I hope this satisfies everyone's request for a part 2 ◡̈ ngl I had to use some moments with my boyfriend because my mind was blanking out and I am prayinggggg that this one is not a disappointment to you guys! again not proofread <3

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

taglist:

@lvrndkoo @sorenflyinn @realalpacorn @ninani-nanina @msun1c0rn @ourfinalisation @rio-reid-whoreee @staarflowerr @leonesimp @okayiamkassandra @starpachinko @atashiboba @blueemochii @hawkswifie @secrtjncoblog @esperssox @smiling-16

a few of them did not show up so please let me know if you didn't get a notification ◡̈

[gf2bellamy]

early seasons spence has me in a chokehold so i kinda have a request for you idk if it makes sense but yeah anyway (please dont tell me its obvious im a yapper ill cry)

ANYWHO

secret relationship au im imagining, earlyseasons!spencer x genderneutral/fem!bau!user (doesnt bother me but im trying to be considerate, im a girl but it really doesnt matter)

basically im thinking like the reader gets kidnapped on a case and spence is FREAKING OUT like lack of sleep, pacing constantly and being really set on finding the unsub freaking out.. and when he finally finds the reader in their state hes like that mix of relieved and absolutely appalled at the readers condition (im imagining all beaten and bloody and stuff idk how graphic you wanna make it). hes all ditsy when hes untying their binds and carrying them out of the place since hes so scared for them. the rest of the thing is kinda hotch calmly telling the reader how freaked out spence was and then im thinking like them comforting spencer afterwards and saying all the ‘its not your fault’ and ‘im okay now’ and its so fluffy it rots all our teeth (but i guess it would also be angst) IDK IF IT MAKES ANY SENSE IMSORRY

anyway remember to drink water and take care of yourself

call me some random emoji cause ill probably be here a bunch

- 🐚

captured — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: reader having bruises, reader being tied up, mention of having a terrible headache, a/n: thank you so so much for your request and your request makes perfect sense don't worry !! i loved the idea and i'm looking forward to your next requests 🐚 <3<3<3 i hope i did your request justice !!!

Spencer didn’t know where you were. No one did. That thought pounded through his skull, looping endlessly as he nursed what had to be his fifth coffee of the day. He hadn’t slept—not even a minute—and the caffeine barely registered.

The coffee tasted like ash, bitter and lifeless. Not that it mattered. All it was doing was keeping him on his feet long enough to find you.

He should have seen this coming. He should have known the unsub would target you. You fit the profile perfectly—he had pored over the details a hundred times, retracing every step the team had made.

And yet, when it mattered most, Spencer had let his guard down.

And now you were gone. Missing. Maybe worse.

The thought sent a fresh wave of nausea rolling through him. His guilt was unbearable.

But it wasn’t just guilt, wasn’t just worry for a teammate.

It was something deeper, something he wasn’t allowed to show, not in a room full of profilers.

Because this wasn’t just about an agent being taken.

This was about you.

The person he had been secretly slipping away with after hours and the person whose hand he had held in the darkness when no one was looking.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

He should have stopped you. You should have never been the one to go on that stakeout alone, even if it was routine. Even if you’d assured him you’d be fine. The memory of your casual smile as you walked out the door stabbed at him like a knife.

“It’s just for a few hours, Spence,” you’d said with that soft lilt in your voice, the one you used when you were trying to put him at ease. The one that undid him every time.

He’d smiled back, pretending to believe you, but his stomach had tightened even then. He should have insisted on going with you.

And now—God, now—he didn’t know if he would ever hear that voice again.

It was a small mistake—one that was tearing him apart.

He hadn’t even realized he’d been gripping the edge of the desk until his knuckles turned white. He forced himself to let go, staring blankly at the case file in front of him. It was no use. He’d already memorized every detail, every piece of evidence. Nothing had led them to you yet.

But it would. It had to.

Spencer rubbed his eyes, exhaustion clawing at him. His entire body screamed for rest, but the idea of closing his eyes—even for a moment—felt impossible. His mind was too full of you.

The burning in his eyes was unbearable, but the ache in his chest was worse.

Everyone on the team was worried about you—how could they not be? But they were also worried about him. And they had every reason to be.

They thought his reaction was because the two of you were close, because he was the type to carry the weight of every case like a personal failure. But it was more than that.

He wasn’t just losing an agent. He was losing you.

He swallowed hard, his grip tightening around the desk once more.

He stared at the evidence board in front of him, the faces of the victims haunting him as he tried to force his brain into profiling mode. But every time he looked at their photos, all he could see was you.

Your smile. Your eyes. The way you looked at him.

His chest tightened painfully, and he dug his fingers into the desk again.He needed to focus.

“Reid.”Hotch’s voice broke through his frantic thoughts.

Spencer’s head snapped toward the doorway where Hotch stood, his expression unreadable as always. “We’ve got a lead,” he said, stepping inside.“Where?” Spencer asked.

“An abandoned warehouse on 14th and Grant,” Hotch replied evenly, though the concern in his eyes was clear.

Spencer turned back to the board, his mind racing as he analyzed the new information. Within seconds, he made the connection. The location fit the unsub’s pattern, his profile—it was possible.

It was enough.

Spencer shot to his feet without another word, practically bolting out the door. The rest of the team exchanged quick glances before following him.

He didn’t care if he looked reckless. He didn’t care if they saw how desperate he was. He had wasted enough time already.

Derek barely had time to react before Spencer climbed into the passenger seat, his breathing uneven.

Derek glanced at him, concern flickering across his face as he started the engine. “Reid—”

“Just drive,” Spencer snapped.

Derek didn’t argue. He knew better.

The SUV tore through the streets, Derek driving faster than protocol allowed. But he didn’t care. He knew Spencer would bite his head off if he slowed down, and frankly, he couldn’t blame him.

Spencer’s knee bounced restlessly as his eyes darted to the GPS screen, counting down the seconds until they arrived.

The second the car came to a stop in front of the warehouse, Spencer threw open the door and bolted.

“Reid, wait!” Derek’s voice rang out behind him, but it was no use.

Spencer didn’t slow down. He couldn’t.

His pulse roared in his ears as he burst into the building, gun raised, breath ragged. His rational mind screamed at him to slow down, to wait for backup, to clear the scene carefully—standard protocol.

But protocol didn’t matter right now.

The dim lighting inside cast long, eerie shadows along the walls. The air was thick with dust and something metallic—rust, maybe blood. His stomach turned at the thought.

His grip on his gun tightened as he moved swiftly, his heart hammering against his ribs.

Room after room, door after door—empty.

Panic coiled in his chest, squeezing tighter with each dead end. His mind flashed with worst-case scenarios.

He shoved them down. He couldn’t think like that.

Then, he reached the last door.

Spencer barely took a breath before forcing it open, gun at the ready.

And then—

His stomach dropped.

There you were.

His voice cracked as he called out your name, his heart pounding in his chest. He rushed toward you, his gun immediately lowering as he took in your state.

His stomach twisted at the sight of you—unconscious, slumped forward, your wrists tightly bound to the arms of the chair. The dim lighting highlighted the bruises and cuts on your face, the sight of them sending a jolt of raw panic through him. For a brief, gut-wrenching moment, Spencer feared the worst.

He knelt beside you, his hands trembling as they moved to your neck. His fingers pressed gently against your pulse point, but for what felt like an eternity, there was nothing.

His mind raced. Was this it? Was this how it ended?

Then—

There it was.

A faint, steady beat beneath his fingertips.

Relief crashed over him like a tidal wave, and for the first time in what felt like hours, Spencer’s lungs finally let him take a full breath. He leaned forward, forehead nearly touching yours as he whispered shakily, “Thank God. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

His hands moved to your face, cupping it gently as he tilted your head up to get a better look at you.

When your face came into full view, his breath hitched.

Bruises marred your cheekbone and temple, a thin line of dried blood trailing down from your hairline. Spencer’s heart clenched so tightly he thought it might break. He bit his lip, trying to keep it together, trying to maintain some semblance of control

One single tear slipped down his cheek as he softly brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch as gentle as if he were handling glass.

“I’m here,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’m here.”

“Morgan!” Spencer’s voice cracked, raw with emotion, as he yelled.

Seconds later, Derek burst into the room, gun in hand, his face hard and alert. “Reid, I just cleared the—” But the moment his eyes landed on you, his words died in his throat.

Derek cursed under his breath, his gaze shifting between you and Spencer, before asking about your condition, his concern palpable as he rushed to Spencer’s side, holstering his gun.

“Alive,” Spencer barely managed to choke out the word, his voice trembling. “Pulse is steady, but we need to get out of here.”

Morgan nodded, his jaw tightening as he quickly pulled out his knife to cut through the ropes binding your wrists.

Spencer’s hands were already on you, one cradling the back of your head, the other resting gently on your arm. His thumb stroked soothing circles on your skin.

The motion was familiar, a small gesture he used to comfort you when you were restless after nightmares, when he needed to remind you—remind himself—that you were safe.

He hoped it would work now, that somehow, it would bring you back to him.

Morgan worked quickly, slicing through the restraints. As soon as your wrists were free, Spencer carefully pulled you into his arms, holding you close against him.

His breath hitched as he whispered your name, lips near your ear. “It’s me. You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

Your body felt so limp against him. He could barely feel his own limbs—his exhaustion was a distant thing compared to the need to keep you safe.

Derek’s voice broke through his daze, placing a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “Let’s move.”

Spencer nodded. As he moved, one arm tightening protectively around you.

As they made their way outside, the sunlight hit Spencer’s face, but he barely noticed.

All he could focus on was you—the bruises and cuts that were on your skin, the way your body felt too light in his arms. His heart clenched at the thought of how much pain you must have endured, how much suffering had been thrust upon you, all because of the job.

He had promised you that he would protect you, that he would keep you safe. And now, he felt like he had failed you.

Two hours later, after one heated argument with the paramedics, Spencer had insisted on riding in the ambulance with you. He had refused to let you be alone, not for a second.

Now, you were lying in a sterile hospital bed, an IV drip hooked up to you, the soft beeping of machines a constant reminder that you were still here—still alive.

Spencer, on the other hand, was slumped in an uncomfortable plastic chair. His body contorted in a way that he knew he would regret later, but he didn’t care. His legs were stretched out, but his back was hunched, his neck bent at an awkward angle.

You slowly opened your eyes, blinking as the bright overhead lights made everything blur. The room was unfamiliar—hospital white with the sharp scent of antiseptic lingering in the air.

The pain hit you almost immediately—sharp and unwelcome—making its way through your head and down your body. You winced, biting your lip to hold back the whimper that threatened to escape.

The pain was intense, but it was nothing compared to the weight of everything that had happened.

The fear, the physical pain, the overwhelming sense of helplessness, it all crashed down on you like a tidal wave. But beneath it all, something else made itself known. The hum of machines, the soft beeping of your pulse, the sterile scent of the hospital room.

You slowly became aware that you were no longer in that dark, cold room, bound and at the mercy of the unsub. You were safe now.

And with that realization came relief.

You weren’t dead. You hadn’t been forgotten or abandoned. The unsub hadn’t fulfilled his plan.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and before you could stop them, they began to fall. You lifted your hand to your face, wiping them away quickly, but more kept coming. You couldn’t stop them.

Your eyes scanned the room, and that’s when you saw him.

Spencer.

He was there, slumped in the chair beside your bed. His exhaustion was unmistakable. His hair was messier than usual, not gelled back.

You sat there quietly observing the boy you had come to love so much.

Suddenly, the door to the room opened, and you turned your head to see Hotch step in. His usual stern expression softened when his eyes met yours, and for the briefest of moments, you could see the relief in his gaze.

“Hi, Hotch,” you mumbled weakly, offering a small, tired smile.

Hotch stepped further into the room, taking in your condition. "How are you doing?" His voice was softer than usual, an underlying concern lacing his words as he slowly closed the door behind him.

"My head is killing me," you replied, your voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. Your hand instinctively went to your temple, massaging it gently, but it did little to alleviate the pain.

Hotch nodded understandingly. He glanced at Spencer briefly, noting the way he hadn’t moved a muscle.

Hotch’s eyes lingered on Spencer for a moment longer than necessary, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he knew more than he was letting on.

It wouldn’t surprise you; Hotch was perceptive in ways no one else was, and your relationship with Spencer hadn’t exactly been subtle all the time.

He cleared his throat before speaking again. "We got him," Hotch said. "The unsub... he's in custody."

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting out a shaky breath. The news felt like a balm to your soul.

You’d been terrified that the danger hadn’t truly passed, that the man who had done this to you would still be out there, free to hurt others. But now, you could finally breathe.

He was behind bars, where he belonged.

"Thank you," you whispered, your body finally relaxing a little, your tension ebbing away with the knowledge that the man behind your nightmare was locked away.

Hotch’s gaze softened, though his face remained stoic as always. “He was worried sick,” Hotch said, nodding toward Spencer. “He didn’t sleep. He was looking for you the entire time.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, your breath catching as you shifted your gaze from Hotch back to Spencer.

You could see the toll the search had taken on him. You fought the urge to reach for him, to run your fingers through his hair and wake him up just so you could see his face, to remind yourself that he was real, that he was here.

The face that had been your lifeline during the long days of captivity. It was that face, the one you’d thought of in the darkest moments, that had kept you sane.

Hotch seemed to notice the way your gaze lingered on Spencer, and for a moment, his usually unreadable face softened.

He didn’t say anything, but you could tell that he knew.

Spencer stirred slightly in his sleep, making a soft sound as he shifted. His body tensed before relaxing, the quiet movements of someone who was waking from exhaustion.

Hotch glanced down at Spencer, then back at you.He gave your arm a gentle squeeze—one that was light enough to not cause you any pain—and you looked at him.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Hotch said quietly. He gave you a small nod before stepping back.“Thanks, Hotch,” you mumbled, your voice still weak, but filled with genuine gratitude.

The door clicked softly behind him.As if on cue, Spencer slowly opened his eyes, blinking a few times as the light seemed to hurt him.

His eyes immediately locked onto yours, and in that instant, you saw everything—the relief, the exhaustion, the quiet joy of seeing you alive.

“You’re awake,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, as if he didn’t quite believe it himself.

His eyes searched your face, his expression tightening as he took in every little detail.

Spencer never liked to admit his feelings. He never said the words, but you felt them in the way his eyes lingered on you, in the way he never once left your side.

You knew what was hidden beneath the surface, even if the world didn’t.

"Hi," you mumbled back, trying to offer him a small, weak smile. The effort was exhausting, but you didn’t want him to see just how badly you were hurting.

As you shifted to sit up a bit, the sharp pain in your head and limbs made itself known, and you couldn’t stop the soft groan that slipped from your lips.

Without a second thought, Spencer stood up from his seat, stepping closer to your bed, but he didn’t reach for you immediately.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, cracking slightly. His eyes scanned over you—lingering on the bruises and cuts that were on your skin.

His breath caught in his throat as his gaze flickered from the fresh marks on your body to your face, and for a split second, it seemed like he couldn’t look at you without some part of him breaking.

"I’ll be fine," you said, your voice strained as you did your best to sound convincing, but the words didn’t do much to reassure him.

You could see it in the way he flinched, his hand immediately running through his hair—trying to distract himself from how visibly shaken he was by the sight of you in pain.

Spencer Reid, who always had an answer for everything, who always had control, was falling apart.

He leaned forward slightly, as if wanting to touch you but unsure if he should.

“Spence,” you whispered, your voice quiet but filled with reassurance. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

But Spencer’s gaze remained on you, his body tense, and his hands flexed, still not knowing where to go. His lips parted again, as though to say something, but it came out only as a soft breath.

His fingers hovered near your arm but didn’t touch.

It was like he was afraid of hurting you more. You could see the guilt gnawing at him. It was written all over his face.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, his voice barely audible. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve—" His words faltered, and he cut himself off.

"Spence," you said slowly, your voice soft but insistent. You reached out and grabbed his hand, your fingers curling around his gently.

His grip tightened around your hand, but it felt shaky. The words suddenly spilled out.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve known. I should’ve known you could be in danger and I—” His voice cracked, and the rest of the sentence died in his throat. His breath hitched, and it was clear he was trying to hold back tears.

But they came anyway, pooling in his eyes, spilling over and leaving tracks down his pale face.

Your heart clenched at the sight of him—this was the man who had stayed by your side, refused to leave even when his mind told him he couldn’t handle it anymore.

The man who, despite everything, was still so gentle with you, so protective, and yet, here he was, blaming himself for things beyond his control.

"Spencer, stop," you said softly, your voice full of concern for him “Please, stop.”

His eyes remained downcast, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "I should have," he murmured under his breath, barely loud enough for you to catch.

His voice trembled, breaking on the words. "I should’ve been more careful. I should’ve made sure you were safe. You're hurt... you're in the hospital because of me."

Your heart broke all over again. He always did this to himself, carried the weight of everyone else’s pain as if it were his own.

"No, no," you whispered urgently, doing your best to push through the lingering pain in your head as you squeezed his hand tighter.

The effort sent a sharp pulse through your skull, but you forced yourself to focus, to hold on to him. "Spence, it wasn’t your fault. Don't ever think that," you said firmly, your voice filled with all the care and strength you had left.

"Listen to me," you continued, the words coming from the depths of your soul. "You did everything you could. You were there. You found me. You're the reason I'm alive, Spencer. If anyone should be sorry, it’s the man who did this to me, not you." Your words were soft.

Spencer’s breath hitched again, his face contorting. He looked at you like you were the only thing keeping him together.

You took a slow, steady breath, forcing yourself to speak through the exhaustion. "You’re not the reason I’m here, Spence," you said, your voice full of the truth you wished he could feel deep inside himself. "You’re the reason I’m going to be okay. You always are."

Your words seemed to reach him, just enough to keep him from falling apart completely.

"Promise me something," you said, your voice soft but unwavering. "Promise me you’ll stop blaming yourself. It’s not on you. It never was."

He nodded slowly, his hand tightening around yours in return.

“I promise,” he whispered, though it felt like he was still trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

"Come here," you said softly.

Without a second thought, Spencer leaned forward, his body folding into yours as he gently buried his face in the crook of your neck, his arms sliding around you with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

His breath hitched as he adjusted, trying his best not to press too hard, too recklessly, worried about hurting you. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer as though he couldn’t bear to let go.

When he finally pulled back, there was a small smile on his face that wasn’t there before.

You smiled gently, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his face, your fingers lingering on his skin.

"I’m okay," you whispered, your voice tender, just for him. "I’m really okay, Spence."

He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering for just a second longer than usual, before pulling back with a contented sigh. "I’m so glad you’re here" he murmured.

You squeezed his hand tightly, smiling at him.

He pulled the chair closer to your bed, never letting go of your hand, settling into it with a deep breath. He was still physically exhausted, emotionally drained, but he didn’t care.

All that mattered was that you were here.

[the-moon-files]

Not sure if anyone has asked this before I think it’d be funny for the Links to get flustered if reader asked them to touch their ears (out of curiosity) (I’m totally not curious myself)

Like are they sensitive? Just some thoughts to ponder...

Again, just going thru old asks, so if i don't apologize in the ask, I promise its a given 😭

Moon: presumed male reader, but no he/him, only "you" used, so gender neutral really ig ("you")

Orbit: SFW, Headcanons-ish, SHORT

Stars: vaguely the classic chain of links

Comets & Meteors: CWs: mildly suggestive, mild discussion about ear piercings/cartilage mention, & TWs: ear piercing disussion (vague, no talk of needles).

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

☆

I actually sorta touched on this in an old ask, I’ll leave the link here in case u wanna see it, (when i find it…)

so ig I’ll expand on some short headcanons here!

so i mentioned last time i talked abt this being like a cultural hylian thing to only touch the ears of someone you love dearly, so like obviously parent/child, maybe older/younger siblings, etc. but i like to think generally,

esp as hylians grow up and become adults, their ears are like a thing only lovers/spouses touch/take care of

including piercings a lot of the time, so like a parent or sibling or lover will learn to properly pierce ears (tho i imagine they only really pierce non-cartilage piercings commonly)

so on the subject of piercings, i definitely think they see any multiple piercings/cartilage piercings on your ears as badass/def a show of good pain tolerance regardless of what you acc can withstand lol

(bro and if you have non-ear piercings?? Wind/Wild is Fascinated, and Leg/Hyrule/Sky/Wars jaws def dropped, even Time’s eye widened)

ok switching lanes back to the intimacy aspect

ok so we’re continuing off that situation in teh last post where you touch Four’s ears and are told what that means, and then half jokingly respond that they are very dear to your heart

(but obv if they’re uncomfortable you’ll def not do it)

bro the effect this has on them is actually irreversible lol

Wind was def the first to outright ask you to like check his ears after swimming or if they get nicked or even to ask you to pierce them once!

(if ur squeamish u said “no Wind, ask ur grandma” lol - but if ur not, like me when i was drunk once, u go for it after making super sure they’re symmetrical and sterile and whatnot, theyre just his firsts, as in the earlobe basic, and lend him a pair of your own earrings to keep in the meantime until healed, which is faster than humans. he is so happy he looks more like a pirate lol)

and the others def followed suit after Wind gave them the courage ironically (both being the youngest and also they literally all fought evil lol)

Wild politely asked if you could make him/help make him some earmuffs, Hyrule shyly asked if you would change his earrings, Four nearly went as red a tomato giving you a pair of earrings before suddenly but slowly all of them (except Wind?) gave you earrings some way or another (made or bought)

When one of the waitresses at an inn you guys stayed at giggled at seeing Sky give you a pair of carved pretty wooden feather earrings, before quickly running off, then congratulated you,

u asked what for, only to have her giddly explain it was a courting gift of course!!

…

nahhhh, all the Links gave you a pair of earrings, they were just being sweet and welcoming you into their culture probably!

or showing that you were dear to them to, since it was an “ear culture” thing!!

…you see the waitress sigh pitifully at the blonde men at your table later that night.

☆

thanks for the ask!!

peace out,

🌙📁

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Same as it ever was 14

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as neglect, bullying, manipulation, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Between your home life and work, you just can’t catch a break. Especially after you draw the ire of your boss.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen ft. Pete Brenner

Note: Happy Tuesday

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“Promise, Pete, I’ll get her back in one piece,” Hansen vows with a wink and a nudge. 

You sit helpless in his passenger seat. He has one hand on the open door as he faces your husband. Pete won’t look at you but you can barely do the same of him. Funny, how you’re so eager to be away from him that you’re not even that bothered at the prospect of spending the day with your boss. 

“You’re a life saver. Really. Never had a boss that cool,” Pete says. 

“Well, you know, I gotta admit. Your wife carries a big load at work. She’s saved my ass more than once and she kinda holds the whole place together. I’m sure you know exactly what that’s like, huh?” Hansen proclaims. 

“Uh, yeah I do,” Pete has the decency to sound ashamed. It’s too bad he couldn’t have seen that years ago. 

“Lucky man. We’re gonna figure it out. She’s strong, we both know you can’t keep her down,” he clicks his tongue.  

“Right, uh, well, I could take her if it’s easier.” 

“What? Pete? You were just telling me about that big meeting. Good luck!” He slaps Pete’s shoulder. “You’ll have to bring us some good news.” 

“Uh, right,” Pete grumbles, “um, honey, I... I love you. I hope the doctor can help.” 

“Thanks,” you say curtly. “Don’t wanna be late.” 

“Gotta listen to the wife, right? Always knows best,” Hansen chortles. “Watch out, sweetheart, don’t wanna catch you.” 

He closes the door as you keep your head straight. Their voices are muffled and you’re thankful for the mental break. The two of them don’t stop. You don’t know how you didn’t see the similarities before. 

You close your eyes and Lloyd drops into the driver’s side. You don’t flinch. He turns the engine and you stay just as you are. He pulls out and the motion sends a ripple through you. The painkiller might have something to do with that. 

“So, the old man and you are... icy,” he says. 

“That’s personal.” 

“Well, baby cakes, think we’re well past blurring lines,” he scoffs. 

“What do you care?” 

“Hey, I’m not entirely heartless. My balls just happen to be more sensitive,” he snickers. “Trust me, I’m not getting sentimental. I want you back to operational. That means whatever stick is lodged up your ass needs to come out so mine can get in.” 

“Disgusting,” you growl. 

“Mm, please, talk dirty to me, baby,” he purrs. 

You snap your mouth shut and grimace. You can’t help but think of the night before. Of Pete all over you. Just like the man beside you, he didn’t listen either. Your own husband... 

“Jesus, I know you’re high on percs but try to lighten up,” he intones. 

You rub your cheek and pry your eyes open, “are you really taking me to a doctor?” 

“As much as I’d rather be taking you to a penthouse and breaking your back more than it already is, yes, I’m taking you for real help. I got a magic mustache and even better tongue but I can’t fix whatever the fuck happened to you,” he shakes his head. “And judging by the way that creature had his tail tucked up where his dick should be, I think he had something to do with it.” 

He sniffs and squints at the road. He gives a thoughtful hum. 

“Petey doesn’t seem like the wife beater type, but I guess-” 

“The fuck? He didn’t-- Argh!” You grip your hip and spasm as you tense at the accusation. “He didn’t... mean to. I slipped.” 

“Huh, dropped you? Man can’t handle all of you, can he?” 

“Hansen,” you warn. 

“I could give him some lessons, if you want.” 

“Stop, please. I’m already going insane with you--” 

“Oh, I know, I got that something that makes the ladies go wacky,” he preens. 

“Urgh, for the love--” 

“Relax. Please. You really can’t help yourself. You’re making it worse. Legit. You’re getting actually butthurt because you can’t let up for one minute,” he reprimands. “I’m dying to get in there and loosen you up but you gotta meet me halfway. So chill.” 

You growl but try to take his advice. The tension is too much. If you keep going on like this, something’s going to give. With what the doctor said about your blood pressure, it could even be your heart. 

You watch the road. It’s nice to not be in control. To not be taxiing someone around; to not be the one worried about time or anything. Still, it’s that underlying reality that keeps you edgy. 

Lloyd pulls in at a clinic on the north end. It’s the kind you could never afford. You’re pretty sure you get a free Costco membership just for being a patient. 

As he parks, you sit up. He tuts, “now, you let good old Lloyd help you with your broken tush, babykins.” 

You send him a derisive look but don’t argue. The painkiller is kicking in and makes even him tolerable. He gets out and you watch him come around. 

He opens your door and with uncharacteristic caution, slides his arm behind you. You lean on him as you stand. He’s actually helping you. Your back buckles but he keeps you steady. He closes the door with his other arm and ushers you slowly across the lot. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You ask. 

“What?” He laughs. “I’m helping you, sweet cheeks.” 

“Exactly. You’re helping me. Why?” 

“I’ve been pretty honest how hungry I am for the peach,” he returns. 

“It can’t be just that.” you growl. “I’m not stupid.” 

“Oh, I know you aren’t. That’s half the fun. Easy enough to get a bimbo on my desk. Boring, now that I think of it--” 

You hiss and grab onto his forearm to keep from collapsing. You hate that you’re latching onto him for comfort. At that moment, you don’t have much else; in several ways. 

“Easy, alright,” he coaxes. “We’ll get you inside and sitting down. Hopefully it’s not as bad as it looks.” He whistles as he approaches the doors and kicks the automatic door button. “You’re looking rough.” 

“Gee, thanks, Hansen. You really know how to flatter a woman.” 

“More like flatten but we’ll get to that.” 

“Gah,” you snarl as he ushers you through the lobby. “You are the most vile man I’ve ever met.” 

“Ah, you really think so?” He angles you with him as he approaches the elevator and reaches to tap the button. “I don’t got a wife and kids at home waiting for me as I’m fucking the intern. Nah, I’m just tempting a working mom into adultery--” 

“Shut the fuck up!” You bark as the doors open. An elder woman is wheeled out at she sends you an appalled gape. Lloyd smiles and guides you into the elevator. 

“Not hard to piece together, you know?” 

“I’m telling you,” you warn him as the lobby is shut out by the metal doors. “It’s none of your business.” 

“It’s not and I don’t really care if Pete is boning the assistant he’s underpaying. But it explains a lot.” 

“Does it?” You snip. 

“Oh yeah. The way you leak like a faucet whenever I’m near for one--” 

“Gross.” 

“And the skill. Ma’am, I know you’ve been dreaming of it in that empty bed. The neglected wife, wiling away her spare hours, longing... well, here I am, baby, your knight in shining armour.” 

You whimper. The pain in your back is dull enough that you can bear it. It’s his needling that’s driving you up the wall. You need him to stop. You need everything to stop. You need one day when you’re not a plaything, not a wife, not a mom. 

“Keep sneering at me but we both know you came yesterday and it had nothing to do with the pills,” he taunts smugly. “So let me fix you up and I’ll give you all the Os you can handle.” 

🗄️

“It’s not a fracture,” the doctor turns away from the black and white images. “But I’m sure it hurts. You definitely bruised the bone but from what I can tell, your muscles are tight. It’s adding pressure to the trauma point. Pinching on a nerve or two.” 

You nod. It’s a relief that you didn’t break anything it’s not entirely great news. Lloyd turns away from the skeletal diagram on the table. “So, she’s fine?” 

“She’s in a lot of pain, isn’t she?” The doctor says. “She needs to go home. Relax. Sleep, if you can.” 

“Anything I can do to help?” He offers. “I really can’t stand to see her like this, doc. It makes me feel so powerless.” 

He touches his chest dramatically and you make a face.  

“Gentle massage. Just tender. Nothing to intense. Don’t push on anything,” he explains. “Warm bath if you can bear it, ice too. You said you have a support cushion?” You nod. “If you have to sit up, use it.” 

“I can handle that,” Lloyd drawls. “I can be gentle.” 

He smirks at you as you send him a sharp look. His lashes flick and his irises flare. You could punch him in the face and you think it would only egg him on. 

“Doc,” Lloyd nears him, “thanks. I owe ya. I’ll have a bottle of scotch sent to the practice.” 

“Just doing my job but I don’t mind a good cask-aged bottle.” 

“Consider it on its way,” Lloyd assures him and turns to you. 

You thank the doctor and let Lloyd help you off the bed. You don’t have the strength or energy to resist. It’s just the same as the last professional prescribed. Rest. You think he might just have to listen to the experts and give you a break. 

“Alright, let’s get you home, baby,” he cooes as you pass through the waiting room. You catch the glance of a woman who watches with envy as her husband slumps with arms crossed and resists a midday nap. If only she knew the type of man Lloyd truly is. 

He reclines the seat in the car for you. You close your eyes. The pills make you tired, just like everything else. 

The smooth motion of the car lulls you. You startle as you find yourself still. Lloyd lifts you from the seat and you spasm. You whimper and he clucks. 

“There ya go, making it all worse again,” he chides. 

You grab onto his shoulder. You can’t help but think of how Pete let you fall. You fear another crash down to earth. 

“I work out, baby face, don’t fucking worry,” he assures you. 

You furrow your brow and look around. You’re not in your neighbourhood. You thought he was taking you home. Instead, you’re staring up at one of those overpriced modern builds. 

“It’s glorious, isn’t it? The high life.” 

You don’t answer him. There’s nothing you could say that could convince him you’re not covetous, because you are. You could’ve gone down this road. You could’ve skipped the dry marriage and the fussy kids. 

That thought scourges you with guilt. You love your children and once upon a time you loved your husband too. It can’t be a mistake if it made you happy once. Simone and Malik still do make you happy. Hopeful, even. 

He brings you through the front door and strides into the airy front room. The windows stretch from ceiling to floor and let in the day. He lays you on the spacious sectional, the cushions wide enough for two, and he drags a pillow over for you. 

You close your eyes, content to just be in one place. 

He tugs your shirt up and exposes your stomach. You tug it back down and your lashes snap open. He tilts his head at you. 

“Baby, I’m helping.” 

“Leave it,” you warn. 

“What’s the problem? I saw it all before.” 

You glare at him. The problem is it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t need to gawk at you. He doesn’t need to count the ways you can’t compare to Kendra and those other pretty interns. Just like the one your husband is fucking. 

“Leave that at the goddamn door,” he says as if he can read your mind. 

He yanks again and you relent. Whatever. You’re just something to be used. For Pete, you’re a dishwasher and a laundry machine. For Lloyd, you’re a piece of flesh and fodder for his twisted ego games. 

He undresses you with a tenderness so unlike him. His hands rove up and down your body with each piece he removes. When you’re completely exposed, you cover yourself futilely with your hands. He tweaks your nipple then toys with it. 

“Gotta turn you over,” he winks. “My favourite position.” 

“You can’t--” 

“Relax, I’m not gonna finish the job,” he taps your thigh. 

He helps you shift onto your side. You groan and grunt with the effort. You hug one of the cushions and lean onto it, your back to him. He flutters his fingers down your side and goosebumps rise over your skin. 

You shiver and he chuckles, “feels nice, huh? See, I can be a good boy.” 

You don’t reply. You close your eyes and cling to the strands of delight. That relief is so fleeting. He drags his fingers up and down and around your lower back. He sweeps around your hip and retraces the same path. Your muscles quiver but unwind. 

“That’s it,” he encourages you. 

You moan as the heat of his fingers seeps into you. It’s nice. You haven’t feel this placid in so long. Your head stirs and your limbs slacken. You forget the world and just let yourself be in that feeling. 

His hand creep along the back of your thigh then between your legs. He wiggles between them and you flinches. He pushes against your slit and rubs the side of his index against your clit. 

“Hansen,” you rasps. 

“Shhhh,” he hushes you. “Doctor’s orders. You need to relax.” 

[justastargirlbabe]

BEST Friends | J. Routledge + J. Maybank

Innocent!reader x John b x JJ

Summary: Your best friends help swipe your v-card

Warnings: Loss of virginity, smut, oral (fem. receiving), Threesome, reader is a bit of an airhead when it comes to sex, aftercare...

“C’mon baby, there's no one better than us.” you’re currently sitting in between your two best friends, john b and jj. You might have let it slip that you’ve never had sex before, and the two gorgeous boys were quick with an idea. “Idk guys I mean, we're best friends a-and-and…”. You stutter, not having the courage to voice your thoughts. “And what princess?” jj blurts impatiently. “You’d have to see me yk… naked”. They both burst out in laughter hearing your confession. “Well duh cupcake, that's how it works.” jj goes back to laughing. John b speaks up, trying to settle your nerves. “Sweetie, c’mon were your best friends, we just wanna help you feel good,” he says rubbing your thigh soothingly.

“O-ok, but how do we umm start?”. You question cautiously. With no response jj gently takes your face into his hands and smashes his lips against yours, catching you by surprise. John b settles for your neck, placing gentle kisses as he sneaks his hand under your shirt. You pull away from jj, nervously looking at John B's actions. Jj intervenes before you get too unsettled. “It's alright cupcake, just lift your arms so me and jb can see your pretty tits”. Flattered, you lift your arms, allowing John b to remove your shirt, whilst jj unclips your bra. “Fuck, I can’t believe you’ve been hiding all this from us sweet thing.” this time john b claims your mouth, jj moving down your body to suck on your nipple, groping the other breast in his hand. You moan into the kiss with john b, and they both smirk. “You like that don’t you baby, c’mere lets get you out of those pants.”

john b removes his shirt, jj doing the same, and they both help you slide your pants off. Leaving you in your pink underwear. “Aw, princess your so fucking cute in your pretty little panties but these gotta go”. Jj tuts at you. Feeling nervous, you don't move. John b picks up on your body language. “Hey baby, it's ok. We just wanna take care of you, but you gotta trust us alright?” John B says. You nod in response but that just isn’t quite enough for John b. “ uh-uh honey, gotta hear you say it.” you take a deep breath before you break the silence. “ok, but uh please just go slow, oh and you guys gotta take your clothes off first.” The boys smile at you before moving to take off their pants. “Anything you need cupcake,” JJ confirms.

After staring wide-eyed at the size of their dicks, john b tugs on your panties, signaling it's your turn. He helps peel them off of you and you witness jj take them in his hand. Inspecting the pink cotton he touches on a wet spot and looks to John b. “I think someone's excited”. He says looking at you, making you blush.

You allow them to push you back on the bed, jj spreading your legs. “Sorry I'm all icky and not waxed” you say, panicking. “Hey hey it's alright, completely normal hun.” john b says assuring you. “Why don't you just start off by showing us how you make yourself feel good, that ok baby?” jj says trying to get a hint at what you like. You speak up cluelessly, “u-um what d’you mean?”, “y’know like when you flick the bean, or play with the pea, tickling your fancy-”, john b cuts him off. “He means Masturbating babe. Can you show us how you do that sweetie?” he questions. “Oh I um… uh, haven't done that before.” say surprised. “ Here I'm gonna rub on this spot and I want you to tell me how it feels.” jj starts drawing slow tiny circles on your clit. You throw your head back, shocked by the foreign yet amazing feeling. Sensing that you’re ready, John b delivers a quick kiss to your lips and sinks his mouth down on your soaked pussy. Jj goes to hold your head up, making sure you see how good they’re making you feel. “ oh-oh my god bee, your making me feel so good fuck”. John b smiles up at you as he sucks down hardly on your clit.

You whine at the loss of contact when he pulls a way to talk to you. “Yeah ik it feels good bunny, but i think you’re ready to take this cock yeah?” you almost gasp at his vulgar use of words. “It's alright mama, jj’s gonna open you up real good first. The boys swap places, “okay mama gonna stick a finger in, just remember to breathe.” you take a deep breath in as you feel his finger enter you. He begins to curl his finger inside, causing you to yell out and your body completely jolts. “Sh sh it's ok baby, he just found your sweet spot s’all.” john b cuts in. jj resumes, this time adding a finger. You cringe a little at the slight stretch but completely relax again when you feel John b kissing your neck. Without you even noticing jj has slipped in a third finger and you’re moaning louder than ever.  “I think she's ready for some dick JB” jj claims.

John b slides a pillow under your head, as well as one under your hips. He spits on your pussy once, and runs his finger through your slick lips. He takes his fat cock, already glistening from pre-cum, and taps the tip against your throbbing clit. He lines himself up with your entrance, your eyes snap shut anticipating his actions. He tries to enter but you’re just too tense. “Dude what's up?” jj questions. “She’s too tight, honey you gotta relax your mind so that it can go in smoothly.” John B informs you. “I’m sorry, I just can't, I'm scared.” you confess. “Hey there's nothing to be afraid of, baby, just take a deep breath and focus on my fingers.” jj instructs. He starts applying pressure on your clit making you loosen up enough for john b to slide right into your pussy. Your mouth forms an ‘O’ shape as he moves in and out of your dripping cunt. “Mm bee dat feel s’good” you manage to mumble out. “yeah baby I know, you gonna cum already hm?” he says mockingly. “Mm- I-I dunno w-what that is”, you force out dumbfounded. This time jj steps in, “you know baby, like an orgasm”, he says shocked at your innocence. “Oh-oh, I uh I’ve never done that, I don’t think.” you clench around john b even more feeling a sense of heat building in your lower abdomen. John b notices the change in your face, “you feel it coming don’t ya pretty girl?” you frantically nod your head, feeling like a bomb is about to blow inside of you. Suddenly the greatest thing you’ve ever felt erupts inside you. John b continues his rough pace as feels your orgasm rush over you, his own following quickly after. Jj gives you sweet kisses as you come down from your high, and gets you a glass of water, allowing you to take small sips. John b pulls out of you slowly, and feeling the after effects of your orgasm, your eyes get heavier.

“Hey sleepy girl, c’mon I know you got one more left for me” jj says almost encouragingly. You whine, “it's ok hun, i’ll make it quick”. The boys swiftly swap places carefully making sure your body is supported at all times. Their sudden movements slightly alarm you. “Shh s’alright sweet girl, jj jus gonna use your pussy real fast,” he places soft kisses to your face as JJ slides in, his thumb nudging at your clit. You gasp feeling the difference of his cock compared to the previous one inside you. He slightly speeds up his movements, already getting close from just watching you. In no time, you reach orgasm #2 crying out whilst jj fucks you harder chasing his own release.

When he's finished and clears his head, JJ grabs a damp towel from the bathroom to wipe off the mixture of juices from the three of you. You wince and snap your legs close, the feeling of the cool rag on your worn out pussy becoming too overwhelming. “‘S alright mama, just cleaning you up”. “C’mon baby, ur sensitive but ya gotta open your legs for jay”. They persuade you. Once he's thrown the rags into the hamper and you’ve gotten some more water, the boys help you slip on one of their t-shirts and place you in bed. “W-what! You-you’re jus gonna leave me” you say panicked. “No honey, don’t worry we’re staying, just relax babe.” they both climb in on opposite sides of you. You lay your head on jb’s chest while jj spoons you from behind caressing your curves until you fall asleep.         

[poisonsage808]

“Piss off you dirty, old man.”

“Who you callin’ old?”

john munch is a fucking freak

nsfw headcanons: 18+ only, minors dni, sexual themes, touch of voyeurism & other kinks, bedroom issues (mild angst)

~

• First thing’s first, yes, if you ask nicely, he’ll bring handcuffs into the bedroom. If you ask very nicely, he’ll let you use them on him.

• John’s not picky.. but he’s also an ass man. The upside of having transition glasses? He can check you out, toe to head— lingering quite obviously on your backside— and admire every bit of you. Feigning innocence when you catch him ogling, he grins like a wolf, “You look nice today.”

• Everyone’s got a filthy little secret they don’t want anyone knowing, even cops and detectives. And John’s? You gave him an obscenely sexy, borderline pornographic, polaroid and it lives in his wallet, right underneath the PG photo of you. Unless he’s apart from you for a long period of time (like when he went to Washington and you gave it to him) he doesn’t really look at it, he just likes knowing it’s there.

• A way less fun and way more embarrassing secret is that there’s times he just can’t finish.

• He’s enthusiastic to start then.. becomes lost. He feels himself slipping before he admits it and tries to bring himself back by kissing you, kneading your flesh, pushing himself so deep into you that you moan his name. You can’t imagine how badly he feels when he’s ruined the mood.

• Depending on the day, John can either last a few minutes or a while. However, just because he’s finished doesn’t mean he’s done with you. He’s got hands and a mouth; he’s yours to use until you’re satisfied.

• If it’s a time where he’s lasted too long then he checks in on you often with, “Poor thing, you look tired. Should we stop?” or “You need a break, Sweetheart?” They vary in sincerity but he will bring everything to a stop if you need it, or he thinks that you do.

• On that note, not even in bed will this mad shut up. He’s talking the whole time either teasing or praising you. He’s vocal, and he loves when you are too. “C’mon say my name baby, I wanna hear it again.”

• Praise, praise, praise. “You feel amazing, love,” and “you look so good riding me, sweet thing,” and “I need you so bad, baby.”

• Munch is the infamous joke that turned out to be very true, he probably likes spending time between your legs more than the average guy would. Any way you’ll let him, he wants to use his tongue to pleasure you ‘till you scream.

• He still likes receiving, too. John whines, such a pretty noise, his hand covering his eyes as you kneel before him with your lips wrapped around his cock. That’s how you found out he begs. “Shit—sweetheart— please, please don’t tease me.”

• Just because he’s a bit scrawny and older than the others, they all forget he can hold his own. Sometimes you forget too, then John holds your legs apart while he’s going down on you, nipping your thigh and warning you not to close them ‘till he’s done. Try being cheeky, see where that gets you.

• He doesn’t like to chase, he wants to feel wanted. He doesn’t mind pinning you down every once in a while but he prefers when your fingers lace with his and you don’t let him get away. In fact, he’s putty in your hands when you simply tell him how badly you desire him, need him, crave him. Blushing, he’s automatically pulling you in for kiss after breathless kiss. That’s all he ever wanted, he’ll be damned before he lets you down.

• The only time that he allows someone to mess with his clothes is when it’s you. He’s especially fond of when you’re needily pulling his coat off and tugging at his shirt. “Honey,” he laughs lightly but it’s strained and his resolve is slipping with each plea that leaves your lips, “I’ll give you anything you want, all you have to do is ask.”

• Aftercare is his middle name, did you expect anything less? A shower, a hug, a snack, water, praise; he knows exactly what you need when you don’t. It’s his second nature to take care of you inside and out of the bedroom, and why wouldn’t it be? He loves you, he wants you to feel as good as you make him feel.

[moonlight-prose]

How Logan and sore shoulders 🙈

I love your writing btw! The way you write just itches the perfect scratch on my brain ESPECIALLY for logan 😩

note: thank you so much!! it makes me really happy to know my writing itches people's brains. cause that's the best feeling when reading. i went with old man logan for this, because i feel like he'd have sore shoulders the most. just a man who needs to rest for a year and a day. this is based off the song your needs, my needs and i swear i just wanna build a whole universe around it with this old man.

Noticing has always been your love language. Small fractions of a second that play across his grim face weathered by pain. He does his best to never let it show. A small insight into the layers of grief he carried like a cross over his shoulders - enough agony to bring even you to your knees. But on nights when the whiskey was low and his body begged for relief, you caught it.

The wince, the stifled groan he bit back with a thick swallow. The ache in his shoulders coated in scars and muscles you clung to throughout the cold nights. He was hurt...and you could see it.

Even if he didn't want you to.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered into the hot mug of tea he struggled not to pour whiskey into.

"Don't you love me?"

The narrowing glare of his eyes drew a smile across your lips. "'Course I do. Doesn't mean I gotta put up with this."

"Oh fuck off Howlett," you snipped pouring the oil across your hands.

"Fuck off. Who the fuck are ya talkin' to like that-"

Your fingers dug into the taut juncture of his neck, wrenching free a hoarse groan that echoed in the hot air. The snide remark died on the back of his tongue with ease, eyes falling shut with another soft noise of bliss you felt curl into the base of your stomach. He'd never admit to enjoying a massage - ever the man who denied his own needs for others.

But tonight he allowed you to divulge in this small act of love. Domestic, gentle, and built on trust.

He gave into your touch, purring like an overgrown cat finally at peace after so much pain. Digging into the right shoulder blade, you worked free a knot built there through two centuries of fighting. Years that weighed on him - baggage he never asked for.

A legacy he could barely carry on his own.

"Feel good?" you asked softly, lips finding a spot on the back of his hot neck.

He grunted, hand sliding to the back of your thigh behind him. A silent thank you from the man who didn't know how to be taken care of. The caretaker, the giver, the hero who ravaged the world to protect those he loved.

The man who deserved to have his needs met just as he met yours.

[fumifooms]

Makima, devils and self-fulfillment

Dumping some Makima and CSM thoughts after a part 1 binge bc I think about her forever and ever. I’m sure I’m forgetting some devil lore, feel free to correct what i get wrong/what’s been confirmed. On the table of contents there’s why & how Makima got fixated on Chainsaw, her revealing liking for the country mouse and discussion of her nature & emotions & desires. Was the scorpion doomed to be a scorpion?

The most of this post was thought of during a conversation with @saccharineomens and I don’t think it makes sense to jump into the spiral it sent me on without first laying down the interesting groundwork theorizing she did:

"Thinking about how makima herself wants to be deified. I wonder whether she recognizes the difference between Love As Worship and the love that Aki, Power, and Denji had. She says she wants to help humanity by having Chainsawman eat the “bad” devils, but why does she want to help humans? Because she was ordered to by the Prime Minister? No, her drive seems much more personal than that, it seems like she teamed up with the PM for contractual reasons. (In the most recent chapters we see governmental members wanting certain devils to be eaten, too. What was Makima’s relationship with them? She’s too independent to just follow THEIR orders, she’s Control.)

So is she wanting to better humanity for the accolades, or out of the goodness of her heart? She sees the big picture. She sees any small sacrifice as worth it for the end result, and she’s ruthless. Perhaps she thinks that a more sedate human race would be easier to control? But Makima doesn’t loathe humanity. She never acts like she sees all humans as lesser. She loves humanity’s creations, like good food and movies. She just wants Good Things all the time

She says she prefers the country mouse BUT adds a story where she helps exterminate country mice like vermin. She likes the simplicity yet rejects the idea of being simple. Makima the complex individual you are"

~

The story itself seems to prefr the country mouse. Well- it strikes a balance, shows that a risk to live good & fully can be very worth it, but still that stability over ambition is preferable, proning having a simple happy life over fame, a simple job instead of a dangerous one, etc etc. And I do find Makima’s answer on this so so interesting, she prefers the country mouse, but this preference isn’t out of affection or sympathy but because of how relaxing it feels to exterminate them when they cause problems.

Order satisfies her. Her order satisfies her. She likes the action of rooting out disorder. Maybe this is the devil part, like how Power especially wants blood and drinking it, I feel there’s an itch to every devil, and for Makima it’s a very rigid world view/morality/standards & making things follow her rules and submit to her order.

And maybe this is why she’s attached to humans too, why she felt it was worth it to stick with the government- because devils are chaotic by nature (it’s a whole plot point that hell is essentially a free-for-all battleground for example), meanwhile humans are the species that universally rule Earth with systems they invented and instilled. They made then enforced rules, complex and intricate webs of them. She feels alienated amongst devils but she understands the humans’ need for an orderly organised society, and now she wants to be part of it. Control and conquest require social dynamics after all, requires civilizations or groups. War is chaotic while peace is, well, peaceful— Makima resents her sisters for being death, famine and war, things that throw the world in such chaos. She wants a world of perfect order, no matter how much collateral damage there will be if the end result is control.

This is even more interesting if you consider that yes, Makima is untouchable of her own design, she deifies herself with her omnipresent amount of control and the sway over others that she seeks and encourages— There is this urge to dehumanize her for it, that yes, she is the devil of control and that means she was never going to be any different, have any more feeling be any less uncanny. And I love part 2 so much for this, because it shows us the war devil and the famine devil and we see how frankly uncharismatic with poor self-discipline they are, Nayuta too, and it helps us realize just how much Makima’s success was self-made.

She admires Chainsaw Devil, the Hero of Hell, because he had his own code and his own rules and he made Hell, the chaos pit, submit to them unfailingly. Wherever he goes he decides what he does and what happens to the people he encounters but does so consistently, he has his mechanism and his rules that he always obeys, and he fulfills them every time. It’s still a mystery the why of Chainsaw Devil’s behavior back then and how it works exactly, maybe Pochita left hell because he was tired of these rules he lived by like chains, but still, he was a servant to his code. Makima would have been glad being killed and eaten by Chainsaw Devil because it’d have been becoming part of his design, his conquest, his domination, she’d have been part of that —his— order. Through her death she would be shaping his world and be part of a conqueror’s making history. Like how she appreciates the country mice that die for the sake of order. Like how sacrifices must be made to herself, like listing the name of every person whose life was lost to the Gun Devil— All for the ~greater good~, for her vision for the world. Conquest always thinks its reasons are justified.

And she does mention with the country mice thing that she goes out to a friend’s farm every year! She has a human friend?? That she visits yearly and she genuinely likes it?? Ultimately she lives a busy city life because of her goal and drive and her urge & satisfaction with overseeing shaping the world herself, but part of her, like so many characters including Angel and Aki and Reze, wishes she could live a slow peaceful country life. Moviegoing and dogs and mice in a farm- Wouldn’t it be so much simpler if Makima could find fulfillment and happiness in being a farmer, in keeping control of her own farm, getting satisfaction from exterminating vermin and expertly getting everything right, the right crops grown at the right time on the right soil? Here, too, in a way it’s trying to have full control of an ecosystem, but her goals would be easier to achieve and better, without ceaseless sacrifice or much pressure. But Makima wants grandiosity and her goal does matter to her on a fundamental and moral level, she does think she knows what’s best for the world, and with the power to change it why wouldn’t she strive to? Visiting the farm is just a break, just something she does in fall to help out and just in time to see the vermin extermination. It calms her, then it’s back to actual work.

In capitalism, even the one at the very top of the ladder is ultimately alienated from others and often unsatisfied by their lifestyle, always wanting more and more power because surely that’s the extra edge they must be missing to be content— like how Makima thinks she wants to dominate Chainsaw Devil instead of being his equal. And she says it herself too, she likes humans the way humans like dogs…….. And she keeps so many dogs :( Makima prefers the country mice because they’re calming to root out, maybe because she usually mainly deals with city mice. It’s very easy to equate humans to the mice in this allegory because it’s pretty direct and she’s already likened humans to lesser animals compared to her. She’s self-isolating by design for her design but she still craves relationships and contentment, and the dogs are the embodiment or her want for bonds and occasional simplicity because there is no possible ulterior motive, no way they tie back into her wider plan. They’re her personal life— something that feels so alien when speaking about Makima. Personality and individuality and likes and preferences and friends they visit every year. She likes how easily she can train a dog and how they become putty in her hands, at her beck and call, how much they love her and how much she enjoys their love. How simple and straightforward and easy it is. She keeps them because she likes being loved by them and loving them, and she’s gotten and raised so many. A conqueror always wants more and more and more, is never satisfied.

Devils and agency

Like Power the blood devil wanting blood and having a fixation on drinking it like with Denji’s, or how it was shocking that the violence devil was pretty tame and nice and how he himself theorized it was because he was a fiend and possessing a human body… There’s something to be said about nature vs nurture with the devils. The way they reincarnate and always embody their fear makes it seem categorically like nature, that they always always end up fulfilling the role they were named after and born to fill… Outside influence they’re helpless but to conform with. Like the humans accepting their spot in the social ladder and the shittiness of their living conditions and job under capitalism. Makima craved being equals with someone despite being the control/conquest devil, Angel Devil despite claiming to be a devil who likes to see humans dying was haunted by their deaths and wanted to avoid ones like Aki’s. The Ghost Devil being ironically haunted by Himeno, seemingly helping Aki in her memory out of… Lasting affection? Or maybe it was less about being haunted itself and more about it recognizing how Himeno haunted Aki, and acknowledging that, with the memento, paying her respect to the ghost of her. It’s Angel Devil’s devil nature that makes him like human suffering, so then is it his angel nature too to still care about their deaths? Is there truth to this or is that just personality, just our confirmation bias haunting every part of their identity like it might in their own view of themselves too? We do know different reincarnations of devils do have different personalities after all.

Yoru, war devil, is the most interesting one when talking about the nature vs nurture debate with devils. There is how through her we see the perhaps the most the consequences of a devil stopping being feared— we see a horseman for a concept as universal and horrifying as war be reduced to some bird who needs a contract with a human to have any power even just on the situation when meeting Asa. And through the story we get to know her better, and it becomes clear that her goal is fueled in good part by simply wanting to be remembered and respected through fear. Liked, validated, seen a powerful. But what is more isolating than war? Or control? We also see Nayuta accepting others’ house rules. If part 1 shows perhaps the futility of running away from the truth, with Denji’s memory, with escapist coping mechanisms, with passivity and denial under a corrupt system and with abusive relationships- running away from your own feelings and from the reality of things and from all that you are, more complex than simply human or devil or both or neither— part 2 builds upon the theme of cult of personalities, the chainsaw church, etc. The apocalypse is coming, but this celebrity superhero might save us all, or doom us all uh, dunno. The hero of hell reliving the cycle of pressure from responsibilities and expectations, maybe the part will end with Denji running away like Pochita did~

But yes, on the reverse, I think Famine is a very interesting example of how a devil’s namesake may be more innate than coerced by circumstances. One would think that a famine devil would only like inflicting famine upon others, not being famished itself, but Famine has a bottomless stomach that can never, ever be satisfied, sated. I struggle to find a psychological explanation for this, except that maybe instead of her being hungry it’s her feeling empty when she’s not eating, tasting and having that high sensory experience that releases serotonin in humans, sort of like drugs? But I do take this as a step towards the compulsion theory overall, feels like a reach in the consistency otherwise. And compulsion does not mean it’s something that they like nor that it’s something that they fight against, pretty neutral, just a nature that nudges you towards one path. Maybe it’s even just their go-to for entertainment. Maybe it’s the only thing that makes them feel right and whole. But still the debate remains, what is it, a compulsion or an urge or an itch or an active desire or a conscious chosen want? Does it change anything in practice?

And because of all of this earlier, devils being self-fulfilling prophecies with their role is not in unsignificant part nurture, because doing their atrocities is how they stay remembered— feared, powerful, known— hell and devils are a very isolating place and breed after all, and we do see devils can want companionship. Existentially, it’s their purpose and how they justify their place in the world, in the terrifyingly vast and unknowable cosmos.

We still know so little of what makes Chainsaw Devil so special, why his carnage is so self-controlled. Despite a chainsaw maybe being possibly one of the most "nature" thing you can be— a tool to cut things, a human tool that can be helpful for many things, something to be wielding by another at their judgement on what they decide, but mainly something to cut, a tool suited for carnage, to hurt and to destroy. A blade with a toothed chain, spinning around and around and around endlessly on the same road at the same pace. Such a…. Innately circular concept. And yet the Chainsaw Devil is his own, not driven by an urge or by chaos but his very own brand of order, his own unique assigned purpose, a "if you call i’ll come running to help" policy equalizing everyone. He chooses to withhold his destruction and interference otherwise, and then he chooses to be used. If it’s a choice, of course.

Maybe this is what inspired Makima so much, that Chainsaw Devil could decide what to make of himself despite expectations or innate role. Because even Hell he decided & managed to subjugate under his will and whim, with a precise vision and process. When Chainsaw Devil acts like Denji or is defeated, Makima clicks her tongue and loses her admiration and respect. Makima admired and liked Chainsaw Devil, but only as long as he matched her great image of him in her mind, as long as he followed he rules for what she thinks he should be like. She admired him for his unrivaled self-made success, but once he stepped out of that to truly embody self-fulfillment and agency, disappearing from hell to live on his own road at the beat of his own drum… Well. Surely that was a mistake she has to correct. However their second battle ends, the better conqueror will have prevailed and she’s happy about that, all in the spirit of domination and subjugation.

Imo Makima’s biggest tool, similarly capitalism’s most helpful effect for its own purposes, is complacency. Resignation and passivity helps uphold the system and go along the flow of the will of the people in power. Aki and Reze go along with orders even when knowing their job is trash, etc. In Angel Devil especially we see him go along with the flow uncaring about anyhing, and we discover it was in part due to Makima taking away memories that motivated him. If every devil decides this is just how things are and how things should be that’s what they’ll continue to be and do mindlessly, not pursuing a better life like Chainsaw Devil and Denj and not seeking to change the world like Makima. I think even Makima veils herself to a lot of things, she doesn’t like to think deeply about some things, like her desire for connection, or how making bad movies disappear is strenuous and unsustainable and requiring sacrifices at best— how her judgement is as subjective as anyone else. How liking the country mouse and her friend back at the farm and her dogs could be not devoid of sentimality. Wanting bad movies erased is her one biggest show of selfishness, of pettiness and individuality, it’s about her tastes, simple as. About how she can have tastes, and cry seeing a scene of people hug, and want things that aren’t logical, her ideology and mind twisted into a pretzel to avoid acknowledging that she doesn’t live and breathe purely for the mission she’s made a single-minded robot out of herself to accomplish. Nayuta is assertive and selfish and loud, Makima is manipulative and strategically both for her goals and for coping hollow.

Everything in her plans and goals she says is for the greater good, necessary evil, manufactured happiness the way she’ll have decided for people— and that’s the thing isn’t it, like with War, it’s the crack that shows it was all truly about herself after all. Her self-made deification still had the flaw that a self made it. Makima is not omniscient, and it’s not Chainsaw Devil the not-so-fellow-kindred-soul conqueror who gets the best of her, but a city mouse, a dog, someone she would have never thought to respect, Denji.

[hussyknee]

Ever since I realized anyone who's made art I loved could turn out to be a monster I've tried to preemptively interrogate how many preconceptions and biases I've formed towards creators just because I've bonded with their work, and think about what I'd do if that axe fell on my own most beloved books and music and shows (I mean it already has on many of them. Millennials can't have shit). I've squared it with most of them but ngl, in the full knowledge that I didn't actually know the man from my left elbow, if Terry Pratchett turns out to be a shitwipe I'll probably just lay down and die. I'm the first to encourage engaging much more critically with his work than his insufferable fandom will ever do, but I cannot contemplate someone whose blistering rage against social injustice I can feel so keenly in my own blood could be a racist or a piece of shit like Gaiman. Maybe he'd have disappointed the fuck out of me by believing Gaiman until he became indefensible, because whiteness and man-ness and ego sometimes calcifies in people's twilight years and undermine all they were in their youth. But actually being party to, or knowing about and accepting of that kind of abuse, especially at the time of writing Good Omens, when the characters of Vimes and Granny Weatherwax were beginning to unfold in his imagination? I don't want to live in a world where that's possible. I can't.

I mean, if allegations like that did come to light I would believe the victims and shut the fuck up about my own turmoil until the dust settled. But I'd also just fucking give up on the world man.

[laurrelise]

ok so: the umbrella academy except it’s about the hargreeves siblings in 40 years when five is a very, very old man but really in his early 50’s while the rest of the siblings are senior citizens whom five has to take care of against his will

someone please read the tags and yap about this with me. thank you

[dootznbootz]

I think some folks MAY have gotten the wrong idea about how I feel about Circe with some of my posts. So, to clear the air...

Homies, I love that fucked up sorceress.

I love how we're never given a reason why she turns people into animals. That's so funny and so awful. And another potion-making magic gal?!?! I love that she's just basically vibing on an island doing whatever she wants. I even love the fact that she scares Odysseus shitless! She's morally gray and that's why she's FUN.

I just sincerely hate when people try to girlboss her or have her be a victim of SA when she never was Looking at you, Miller. Especially when she was actually the one who coerced Odysseus in exchange for his men being transformed back into humans. And even then, while he was clearly afraid of her, (it's in the language of the Odyssey) she likely meant him no harm after a certain point. He just didn't know that.

Why does she need a reason to do awful things? Why can't she just be a goddess who does whatever she wants? That's the reason why I love her!!! She's fucked up!!! :D

I hate what the Telegony did to her as well! >:( You're telling me, this sorceress goddess, who makes potions (!!!) wouldn't have magic contraceptives??? Would WANT CHILDREN?!?! WITH THE PATHETIC WIFEMAN?! No. Fuck no. Eugammon of Cyrene, I have beef with you 🤬

Anyways!!! Understand all the "#anti circe" I have is simply Anti "Girlboss Circe" or the book. I genuinely think she's neat af as her morally gray, fucked up sorceress self and just get frustrated with...everything :'D

[puppppppppy]

for like 3 weeks i was wondering why i was sleeping so much and felt listless. and just now I managed to email 3 people and responded to a month old message in the span of an hour because I got back to TAKING MY FUCKIN MEDS..........