#this almost made me cry i'm not even exaggerating

[yangjeongin]

getting adopted by anne hathaway ✅

[imfinereallyy]

Bedside Manner

for @acasualcrossfade request for "the infection has spread"

"Some birdie told me that you have been causing a fuss, Wayne, is that true?"

Wayne huffs from his hospital bed, glasses sliding down his nose. He places the newspaper he was reading on the table beside him. "You tell that Robbie of yours to stop exaggerating. It was only a small request."

Steve raises his eyebrows at his favorite patient (Dustin tells him he isn't supposed to have favorites, but he also used to cry anytime he picked up Max before him when they were younger, so what does he know) and gives him a knowing look. "Robin listens to no man, Wayne, you know this. You're better off sending that message through her wife. Besides, small? She was telling me you refused to have any other nurse help you because I wasn't here last night. Which surprised me since you are always pushing me on about taking a vacation. "

Wayne opens his mouth, but Steve presses on. "And the fact Robin was even in the room means they called a psych consult, so I can only imagine how bad it was."

Wayne grumbles like a little kid being scolded for getting his hands caught in the cookie jar. "Yea, well, it was a bad night, kid."

Steve feels his shoulders sag, he takes off his glasses and rubs a hand down his face before placing them back on. "Sorry, Wayne, I had a bad migraine last night. Nance and Robs wouldn't even let me pass the entrance. Bad news?"

"Kid, don't stress yourself out over me. I'm just your patient, and more so, I am just a cranky old man." Wayne patted Steve's knee as he sat down next to him.

"C'mon, Wayne. You're more than that. I'd like to think seeing you in and out of here the last year has made us friends. Although I gotta say, you're the only friend I have that I'll be glad if I don't get to see again, given the circumstances. So, what's the news?"

"The infection has spread."

Steve takes in a deep breath, he tries not to panic, but any infection in a hospital can be deadly, especially for a cancer patient like Wayne. "Incision site?"

Steve must not be as good at hiding his emotions as he used to be because Wayne jumps to ease his worry. "No, kid, don't worry. The surgery was a success. Just got that hospital fever, the good old bronchitis. But it just means I'm here longer than I have to. It also means my nephew is on edge, and I don't know if I can take a second longer of his hovering."

Steve laughed wetly, thankful for the topic change. "Ah yes, the mysterious nephew of yours that I've never met. The way you talk about him almost tempts me into switching to the day shift, sounds like he might be entertaining. But only almost."

"Always wondered why you were always working the nights, most of the others seem to switch. Not a big fan of the day?"

Steve shakes his head gently, "No, I like the quiet here at night. Like getting to know the patients without having to worry about fixing ten million things. Don't get me wrong, it has its downfalls. Like the doctors can be horrible at night, never tell Dr. Wheeler that or Robbie will kill me, and the food is awful. But there is something special about it here at night. So sorry, your ridiculous nephew isn't enough to tempt me."

Wayne smirked, "What if I told you he was a looker and single?"

Steve blushes slightly. He is used to patients trying to pawn him off to their relatives, it came with being a young male nurse, but typically it didn't phase him. But Steve has become close with Wayne, so hearing him suggest he get together with his nephew has him flustered. "I'm good, Wayne, thanks. Gave up on the dating scene a while ago. Not many people can keep up with a guy who works nights and suffers from severe head trauma."

"Shame, Eddie likes the nights too. I'd reckon yal would get along."

"I'm pretty sure we would need more than that, Wayne."

Wayne smiles fondly at Steve. "You don't need a whole lot to build a connection, son. Me and Linda, god rest her soul, only started dating for our mutual love of mugs. And we may not have had long together, but our love was strong. Besides, there is more yal would have in common than just the night shift."

Steve huffs a laugh, "Oh yea, like what?" The least he can do is humor the man.

"Well, you both care about me deeply."

Steve blushes again, "C'mon, Wayne. I'm your nurse. I'm kinda paid to care."

Wayne won't hear any of it, "No, son, it's more than that. You take your break in here every night. You make sure to record the game at home for me because they only have the news here. And last night, you tried to come in with a migraine, even though we both know I am the only patient you can stand right now."

Steve doesn't know what to say back. Wayne is right, of course. Steve has been spending all of his time with the man, giving him extra care. Steve isn't bad with his other patients, he goes above and beyond most of his coworkers, but there is something special about Wayne.

"You got nothing, kid, you know I'm right. Remind me a lot of my nephew. Before visiting hours ended is when I got the news of having to stay longer. Kid almost threw a fit when they kicked him out. Swore he was gonna break in to stay the night with me. I told him not to worry since you would be there, I brag about you too, ya know. When he found out today you weren't here, that boy threw a fit again. Swear he gets his tantrums from his father. Said he was gonna sneak back in tonight. Make sure I had company. That 'the man' couldn't stop him. That if he ran into you, he was gonna have a word with you."

Steve can't help the snort that shakes his body, "I'd like to see him get passed Hop first."

Wayne starts to chuckle, too, "Eds may have had his fair share of escaping the law, but no man moves as fast as Jim in a security uniform."

Steve is fully laughing now, "I know, right? It's like those pants make him aerodynamic or something. No way your nephew is getting by."

It is almost as if Steve's words summon what happens next. There in the doorway is the most gorgeous man he's ever seen, even though he is bent over and out of breath.

"Eds?" Wayne questions, clearly surprised. Steve has to mask his face and quickly before Wayne catches him ogling his nephew. Steve is finding it difficult, though. The man, Eddie, despite his out-of-breath appearance, is stunning. His long curly hair is thrown up in a bun, showing off the piercings up his ears. His clothes are simple but suiting, ripped jeans and a black band tee. Tattoos cover his entire body, and Steve wants to ask about every single one of them.

The most surprising thing about him isn't that he got by Hop (although he has questions for that later), no the most surprising thing to Steve is that Wayne somehow knew his exact type, which most people assume wrong in that department.

Eddie awakens an old craving inside Steve that he thought he had buried long ago.

"Wayne, you would not believe what I just went to get up here. The story I have for you, oh boy. You're gonna love it. Who knew security guards could move that fast. Anyway, I hope that nurse boy of yours is here tonight because I am ready to—" Eddie stops mid-rant when his eyes land on Steve, a lovely blush blossoming across his pale cheeks.

"I believe what you are trying to say is, what was it, Wayne? Oh yea, 'have a word with me,'" Steve laughs softly.

Eddie sputters, "Wayne!?!" His blushing becomes deeper as the seconds pass by.

Wayne just chuckles as Steve stands. "Don't be mad at your Uncle, I think he was just trying to make me feel better. I am sorry I wasn't here last night for the news. Got my head knocked around too much as a kid—" Steve taps his head with his knuckles, "—so I suffer from migraines sometimes. I really did try to come in, but well—you met Jim. He's pretty fast." Steve worries his lip. Eddie's eyes follow.

"Well, I can't be too mad now, can I?" Eddie swallows nervously before a smirk spreads across his face, switching from shy to confident in two seconds flat. Steve shouldn't be turned on by that. "The pretty face helps too. I'm pretty sure you could convince me to give you my kidney right about now. I'm Eddie, which I know you know by now, and you are...?"

Steve puts his hand out for a shake, "Nurse Harrington. But most people call me Steve."

Eddie grabs his hand gently and brings the back of it to his lips. "Stevie, a pleasure, really." A light kiss is placed on Steve's knuckles. Stevie, he thinks. That's a new one. And he isn't mad about it, at all. In fact, the butterflies in his stomach want him to get Eddie to say it again.

Steve catches Wayne's smug face in the corner of his eye as Steve begins to blush again.

"I'm just gonna—I'll be right back." Steve stutters.

"Leaving so soon?" Eddie says disappointed.

Steve has the sudden urge to fix the frown on his face. "No, no! Just, uh, gonna call Jim and tell him not to send out a search party. That it's okay if you stay. I'll keep an eye on you."

Eddie's face breaks out into a brilliant smile, "Really, Stevie? You gonna keep me around?"

Steve's heart skips a beat, "If I can help it."

***

[iluvmy-desire]

escape ᯓ soobin x femreader

genre: smut, slice of life, little teeny bit fluff

warnings: stress pretty much hard fucking you, sweetest boyfie service top!soobin, soft sex turned into... hehe. oral (f), pet names, spit / lmk if I missed anything!

it's been a hell week for you. you don't know if this is karma getting back to you or your classmates are really just a bunch of assholes making your life miserable.

monday and tuesday started as fine, but it turned into a nightmare after that. wednesday became your starting point—your pet peeves annoying the shit out of you and even corrected your behavior for scolding your classmates who are circling around a fainted girl. you're literally in charge of keeping the class not as chaotic as possible.

thursday really got you. some asshole wrote nasty words on your notebook and you were asked by your professor why did you write it. you explained to him in a panicked voice, "sir, even though I'm foul mouthed sometimes, I would never ever write stupid shit like that to my own notebook." good thing he considered it and gave you a good grade.

friday—earlier, made you almost burst into angry tears. your professor presented a documentary to your class for reflection and to write your opinion about it, but before that happened, you noticed the girl who looks like a butchered barbie whispering to her friend. you shrugged it off, thinking it was nothing. after that, her friend literally sat down in front of you to block the tv from your view. you were pissed, you love watching documentaries.

after class, you immediately went to your boyfriend's house. you entered the house unannounced and plopped down on the couch with a loud, exaggerated sigh.

soobin, who is currently playing mario kart, paused his game to greet you with a kiss. "hey babe, how's school?" sigh, being a college student sucks when your boyfriend just freshly graduated.

you start to ramble about your day and how today's week has been pissing you off. your professor even scheduled to finish the powerpoint presentation by monday—and your group hasn't even started researching!

"I'm sorry about that, love." soobin sighed, placing his big hand on your cheek to caress it. "and I know you haven't got a proper sleep after your examinations. you need a break."

"how?" you asked. "I'm literally gonna cry out of anger right now, maybe even commit arson. but seriously, how am I gonna rest if I have a shit ton of work to do? our date is canceled because of work."

"love, as much as I want to help, I cannot control your professors. and we can reschedule our date, hon. don't worry about it." he says softly, planting a kiss on your forehead which made you feel relieved.

"why don't you let me help you relax and escape from the reality, hmm?" he continued, his eyes filled with lust and admiration for you. you nod at his suggestion, letting him push you gently on the couch to lay on it.

soft, breathy moans escape your lips, legs spread and tits out as soobin eats you out. it was messy, actually. but you didn't mind—he looks good with his mouth and chin covered in your juices and his drool.

your back arched slightly when he inserts one of his long ass fingers, and since you were lost in this pleasure, you started to grind on it because why not?

"a-ahhah... soob..." you whimpered, a sigh coming out from his mouth. "you greedy princess... look at you being fucked out when we just started."

soobin suddenly pulls out his finger, making you whine. he stands up and pulls you on the edge of the couch before aligning his cock on your entrance. you genuinely thought that he was going to be hard on you, just like he always does.

but you were surprised when he pushes himself inside you and starts to thrust with a slow speed, as if grinding on you. you had gotten a little sensitive since it's been two weeks without any sex, blame the shitty college shit of course. and oh, my. it felt like you were in heaven.

having sex with soobin was always passionate, but not as passionate as tonight. you grip his biceps, looking up at him with your mouth slightly drooling. "more.."

"hmm? you want more?" he says, smirking at your request. he paused his thrusting, his lips crashing into yours in a heated kiss.

"you want more, hon? I'll give you more."

© iluvmy-desire, 2024 [ please don't steal. reblogging and liking my posts will be very appreciated. ]

[yandere-sins]

Yan-Poll #26

"Back off, bloodsucker, they're mine!"

You wanted to protest, but your words were cut off by squeals of pain as the monster's claws buried in your hair. You reached up, digging your meager nails into the fur-covered paws of the werewolf. They were no threat to the beast, yet you drove them as deeply as possible into his flesh in the hopes he'd let go.

How could it have come to this, you wondered, tears brimming in your eyes as you recalled the last few weeks. First, your long-term partner left you, so your friends suggested this trip to an old camping ground near a "haunted" mansion to get the edge off. And then you had been the only one who didn't hear how people fled the scene while you were knocked out from exhaustion, putting you into this situation.

You glanced over to the other figure that stood in the courtyard serving as camping grounds with you. Their paled skin shone in the moonlight, almost glistening, but the sight of their fangs protruding from their lips as they grinned, catching your eyes on them, made your neck ache, the blood slowly drying up from where they had bitten you in your sleep.

This other nightmare, a werewolf, had come just in time to pry them off you, and you awoke to the scuffle, realizing you were the last human left. But when you tried to run, the wolf had come after you, catching up and bringing you down to your knees with his overwhelming strength.

"And you are being so rough with them like a true monster. Look, they are already crying."

Waving their hand at you, the vampire pointed out your obvious discomfort, and the werewolf's eyes fell down, tearing away from his arch-nemesis and meeting yours briefly. You whimpered as they reflexively tightened their grip as they watched you cry. You wanted to take this chance, but the pain briefly robbed you of your senses before you could speak.

"P-Please," you whimpered. "Please just let me go..."

The werewolf growled lightly in discontent, getting down on one knee next to you. His hand fell from your hair to your back, brushing over it comfortingly, and you sobbed as the pain of being released hit you. You didn't feel soothed with the werewolf's claws repeatedly getting stuck on your clothes, chipping away at your only defense barrier.

"I didn't know... I'm so sorry for trespassing!"

Honestly, no one could have known this forest was the home of monsters. It still felt like a prank rather than reality. But it hurt even more, knowing your friends would leave you behind to fend for yourself like this. What good arguments did you have to make them keep you alive? How could you convince them to let you go?

"How about..." the vampire mused out loud, avoiding their eyes for just a moment to think. But when they looked back, you felt intimidated by their gaze, the deep red shining through even the darkness piercing into you. "We let them decide who to go with?"

A menacing smile crept over their lips, and you hugged yourself to shy away from the threat in their stare. Choosing between them? That seemed like a bad idea, almost as much as not choosing and letting them battle it out...

"You can choose the wolf and be dragged to his cave, where he'll tear you to shreds while he rampages every night. And the breeding season is near. If you make it that far, I'm not sure you'll survive that massacre."

"Or you stay with the bloodsucker," the werewolf growled, glaring at the vampire. "You won't even last one day before they empty you of your blood and life. Might wine and dine you first so you are proper lamb to slaughter, but your "friends" won't even recognize your body when they're done slurping your blood after hours of struggling and crying."

Gulping, you recognized the exaggeration in their words. Their dislike for each other was obvious, but from what you knew about these creatures, you didn't doubt the seriousness of their accusations. Accidentally or not, the werewolf was likely to hurt you—one way or another. It could last a lifetime unless you managed to escape, while your days were numbered with the vampire. They wouldn't keep you for as long as you could supply them with blood, would they? Even if they didn't do it that very night, you'd live in fear until they decided it was time, only for the torture to continue until your last breath.

You wanted neither.

You wanted to live.

This trip was not supposed to be your last one, and you wanted to continue living, no matter what. But how? How could you convince them? Convince them to keep you around at least long enough to try and escape. You thought long and hard. The werewolf's tail was like a whip, impatiently hitting the ground. But neither he nor the ever-smiling vampire, knowing he had all the time in the world, interrupted you, this challenge going beyond the worth of your life. It was a battle of dominance, one they both wanted to win. They wanted to be chosen by you, to have all the rights to you.

Thus, you thought, wrecking your head around the possibilities before you chose wrong.

[wastemanjohn]

i'm not at all bothered about people disliking john because entirely valid tbh and someone else's opinion changes nothing for me. i just think the militant anti john brigade - that is, those that make up textually unsupported and entirely leftfield reasons to dislike him - are really missing out.

the thing is, we've got an absolute buffet of an interesting and irreparably fucked up character here. we could debate the absolute Horrors of john winchester and his a+ parenting for days on end literally from the two seconds of screentime he had. because he does suck! it's totally fair to say that canon john is selfish, neglectful and at best emotionally abusive. now i'm defo no apologist (see username) - but he's also the furthest thing from a cardboard shitty abusive dad. there is serious context for the things he does and the way he thinks.

john's life was hell man. his own dad, for all he knew, abandoned him. he went to war young and almost certainly came back with ptsd. these things alone don't exactly make life easy but then your wife burns to death on a ceiling and you're left a widower and a single dad to a baby and a pre schooler before you're even thirty? then discover that it couldn't even be a plain old housefire but no - there is actual Evil out there and you and your children are not safe and never will be?

the desire for revenge is understandable. the desire to do stupid and paradoxically dangerous things to protect your children are understandable. right, good or healthy? no. but understandable. and that's what makes a good sympathetic character.

basically i think a lot of negative readings of john exaggerate the badness of his intentions and ignore his humanity. it's also understandable that john is not a beacon of emotional regulation. it's also understandable that he cant always balance being emotionally and physically there for his kids with Fighting The Horrors. pour alcohol misuse onto this dumpster fire and you're not getting a perfect person, or a perfect parent. you're getting a broken human who was focused only on keeping his kids safe, alive, protected, and able to protect themselves. sure, he had tunnel vision about it. he did it very badly. he controlled sam as the youngest and parentified dean as the oldest. he made sam feel misunderstood and smothered. he made dean feel completely responsible for the welfare of his brother and dependent on john's praise and approval as his second in command.

john fucked his kids up IMMEASURABLY. he thought he was doing the right thing.

also - remember young john? remember how he's softly spoken and loves his cars and adores his girlfriend and respects his fucking elders and, to quote mary, "believes in happy endings"? remember the doting dad we see for like a minute in the pilot? is that not meant to show us that, had his life not taken the turn it did - he would likely have been an entirely different person? how is the tragedy of that not also completely DELICIOUS??

so why homophobic john? why john who beat dean senseless regularly? why john who gave no shits and wanted his boys to be miserable? why these embellishments that make him someone else, someone with nothing good inside of him, when what canon gives us is so much better?

come on guys. the tragic messy sad angry selfish HUMAN john we got in the show is an absolute treat. why are we making him an irredeemable, unfeeling and uncomplicated asshole who doesn't give a shit about his boys. ya'll saw him spending a good 50% of his screen time crying about how much he loved them right? and sam and dean KNEW he loved them. they also knew, or in dean's case came to realise, that he was a terrible father in many ways. real life is messy and nuanced. families are messy and nuanced. and imo spn got this so right.

[stairain]

Gun that doesn't shoot.

You've grown tired of the princess treatment from Spencer, just wishing he'd slap you around for once, so you don't stop until he does.

Warnings: Hard Dom Spencer, Bratty Reader, spanking with a belt, degrading, hair pulling, slapping, fingering, crying, orgasm denial. 

WC: 3.7K

For reasons you don’t know, you were being overly bratty towards Spencer today. Actually, you had a completely valid reason. He’s gone soft, to put it simply, and quite frankly you were tired of being babied 24/7

So today, whenever he asked you to do something, it was met with a mocking grumble and hesitance to do said task. He thought it was just a one time thing, and let it slide, but now here you are again, facing the other way with a pout as he talks to you.

"What is the matter with you, Princess?"

Your heart skips a beat as you hear him call you by your favorite name, but you huff and cross your arms over your chest, as if throwing a silent tantrum.

“Don’t give me attitude, Princess. You’ve been in a sour mood all day and I haven’t done anything to you.” 

Spencer crosses his own arms across his chest as his tone is one of pure disapproval and disappointment. He sighs. 

“What has gotten into you?’

You almost make a show out of turning your head away from where he stood, exaggerating how much you wanted to do everything but look at him. 

He slightly bends over to firmly grab your chin and force you to look in his eyes.

"What's the matter? Speak."

You suck your teeth as you look up at him with malice burning in your eyes.

“Why should I tell you?”

Spencer’s eyebrow twitches as he becomes irritated with your behavior.

"Because you're being bratty, and I'd like to know what you're upset about." His voice starts out stern, but slowly turns gentle at the end of the sentence.

“And why would you care? It’s not like you’re gonna do anything about it.” You’re still avoiding his question, wanting to see just how far you can push him before he snaps. He was always so gentle and caring with you, and for once you just wanted to see what’d it’d be like once he finally lashes out on you.

"Why wouldn't I care?" He seems genuinely lost at your response.

"Just tell me what's wrong, and I'll see what I can do to fix it, okay?" His tone is still gentle, but he seems a little confused and maybe even hurt. With a scoff, you turn your body so you’re facing away from him.

Spencer sighs heavily as he stands back upright, getting more and more frustrated. 

"Look, I can't fix what's wrong if you won't tell me. So talk, or I'm going to give you something else to pout about."

You have to suppress the small smile that grows on your face, you’re finally getting somewhere. You huff once more.

“You wouldn’t.”

"Try me, Princess." He says the name in an almost mocking manner, and takes a few steps closer to you. He leans down and grabs your chin again, forcing you to look up at him. He gets just an inch or two from your face.

“That’s what I’ve been doing all day, didn’t think it’d take a genius like you to take this long to figure it out.” Your voice is sarcastic as your words bite at him. 

You can see violent anger flash in his eyes for a moment, before he’s squeezing his eyes shut and taking a deep breath. His hand slides around the back of your neck and grabs you there, dragging you like a dog over to the kitchen counter. Your back hits the edge of the island, and his voice is quiet as he speaks to you. 

"I don't know what's gotten into you, but for your own sake, please tell me what's made you so angry."

You simply bite the inside of your cheek as you stay silent, despite all of his warnings and pleads for you to just talk to him. His hand slithers from the back of your neck to your throat, and gently holds it in his fingers. 

"You don't give up, do you?" He asks after a moment, still holding you there against the counter. As his frustration continues to grow, his grip tightens, but he doesn't seem to realize it.

"I'm begging you, sweetheart. Just talk to me."

You push down a sound of pain at the feeling of him gripping at your throat, and swallow nervously before speaking. “Or what?”

Spencer sighs and his grip on you gets tighter and you can tell his frustration is only growing at your stubbornness.

"Or I'll have to punish you. You know how much I hate doing that, Princess." He sighs again, clearly hurt by the thought.

This time, you don’t stop the soft grunt that escapes your mouth, and you stutter when trying to speak.

“Y-You’re all talk..”

The man's eyebrow quirks up, and he shrugs. 

“If you say so.." His expression is now cold and serious. "Your choice, Princess." He suddenly lets you go and takes a step back. He crosses his arms and stands in front of you, waiting to see what you will do next. 

A look of confusion and disbelief crosses your face, and you’re sputtering out your words. 

“W-What are you doing? You..You’re supposed to punish me, why are you just standing there?” 

As you speak, you can see a cocky grin spread across his face.

Spencer looks at you for a moment before speaking, his tone coated in disdain as realization sets in for him.

"You really want to be punished, don't you? That must be it." He starts walking in circles around the kitchen island that you’re leaning against, slowly shaking his head.

"You're being bad on purpose to get my attention.” His tone is mocking and his grin is teasing, but there's still some coldness behind his words.

He knows he’s read your intentions perfectly, just as you had recited them in your head. Your heart starts to pound in your chest as you try everything in your power to not look at him, as he circles you like a shark would their prey.

He continues to circle you, his look turning more predatory as time goes on.

"Is that what this is really about? You get some sick satisfaction out of pushing my buttons until I snap at you and have to put you in your place? You just like seeing me angry." His grin grows, and he chuckles darkly. "Does it get you off, Princess?"

The tone in his voice is dark and condescending, and it sends a shiver through your senses. You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

“I-I..”

Spencer watches you as you try and fail to speak, and his grin only grows darker. His eyes are cold and unforgiving now, looking down on you like you're one of the worst of the worst that he's put behind bars.

"Speak up, Princess. Unless you have nothing to say?" He gets even closer to you, getting right in your face and leaning a hand against the counter next to you. You can see the anger starting to boil in his eyes, despite him trying to keep himself calm.

And it’s clear by the way all your previous confidence has crumbled underneath you, that you have nothing to say. You were trembling with fear and anticipation as you could feel the huffs of his heavy breathing hitting your skin.

His eyes narrow at your silence, and his hand suddenly shoots out to grab a fistful of your hair. You are pulled forward painfully and he pulls you close.

"Speak. You don’t have a choice." He growls at you as he grabs your hair tighter and his face looks like he's just one step away from losing control.

You wince in pain at the feeling, but also moan softly. As his fist gripped at your roots, it shot a feeling of pure arousal through your body. You take a shuddering breath before you speak.

“Y-Yes.. Just-Just wanted you to put me in my place..” 

His face doesn't soften at all at your confession. He seems just as cold and unforgiving as he did before you spoke, and his other hand now grabs your throat.

"And what is your place exactly, Princess? Remind me."

His gaze is piercing and his breath is as heavy as your own is.

“I-I’m yours, Sir..”

The grip on your hair and throat only tighten as you whimper out your words. 

"That's right, Angel. You are mine. And you know what you do when you're mine?" He leans in even closer, so that he's nearly nose-to-nose with you, his grip becoming almost unbearable. 

"You behave, Is that understood?" 

Your lips drop in an attempt to gasp for air, and you manage to nod in his hold. You swallow and squeeze your eyes shut.

Reid lets go completely and you gasp for air, coughing and sputtering. You choke on your own breath as your lungs greedily fill with air.

"That's what I thought." He mutters in a low, almost whispered tone. He watches you with a sick look of sadism for another moment as you fight to breathe, then lets out a sigh and steps away. His face is blank for a moment, then his eyes quickly fill with desire.

"On your knees."

The tone he uses is colder and less forgiving now as he says that. He hasn’t moved in his place away from you, and he crosses his arms, waiting for you to obey him. 

At his command, you take a few steps forward and immediately fall to your knees. You bow your head down to the floor as you await his next order.

“Yes, Sir.” 

He looks down at you and reaches a warm hand out to run over the expanse of your jawline, before quickly pulling it away to slap you across the face. Your head jolts to the side and you let out a quick noise of shock.

"I don't want you to say another word unless I ask you to. Understood?" His eyes are trained on you as he withdraws his hand, waiting for you to respond and confirm that you’re actually listening to him now.

“Yes, Sir.”

You nod and say not another word afterwards. Your body was practically shaking in both excitement and fear for this, you had him exactly where you wanted him.

Spencer nods and reaches out for the belt he keeps on his waist. He pulls it out of his belt loops and holds it in his hand, seemingly taking his time to torture you.

"Look at me." His voice becomes harsher, and you can tell he's lost his patience.

Your head almost immediately lifts to look him in the eyes, and you can feel the littlest of tears brimming your wide, “innocent”, eyes as you gaze at him through your long lashes.

"You’ve left me no other choice, Princess.” He states monotonously as he holds you in his gaze. 

"It won't be pretty, or gentle. You're going to leave with bruises." His voice is dripping in condescension, and the look in his eyes sends a shiver of fear through you. He holds the belt tightly in his fist, waiting for your response. 

“That’s exactly what I want, sir.”

The look in his eyes doesn’t waver as he sits down on the couch and looks over at you expectedly.

"Over my knee."

There's no room for argument. His face remains unmoving as he holds his arm out, waiting for you to do as you're told. With a nod, you lift yourself from trembling knees and walk over to him, before bending your body over his legs, your stomach resting against his thighs and your ass raised in the air.

Spencer looks down at you as you do, his face blank and his expression serious again. Once he makes sure you're fully in position, he flips up your skirt and pulls back his arm. 

"Don't you dare move, Princess.” 

You hold your breath as you wait for the first hit and squeak out.

“Yes, Sir.”

The thick leather of the belt crashes down against your bare bottom and you hiss through your teeth. It hurt, but you knew this was as gentle as they would get, so you take it with gratitude. 

"Let's see if that attitude of yours is the same after a few more, hmm?" He asks in a condescending tone, his voice having turned into a cruel whisper. He pulls back his arm again as he speaks. 

"Tell me again what you are, Princess."

“I-I’m yours, Sir.. I belong to you—“ Your words are cut off as he swings the belt and lashes it against your pink tinged skin, making you cry out in pain. The tears that brimmed your eyes before fell down your flushed face now.

"Good, Princess. That's a good girl, isn't it?" He says in that unforgiving mutter as he pulls the belt back and whips it forward again, just as hard as the last.

"Tell me again, Princess. I want to hear you say it. What are you?"

Your body lurches forward in his lap and you practically scream at the pain.

“I’m yours, Sir.. Y-Yours..”

"And how should I treat my Princess? Do you think I should treat her gently? Is that what you want?" His voice is sarcastic yet menacing and it sends a shiver down your spine. He pulls the belt back and whips it forward once more, hitting you with even more force than before. 

You know better than to answer him, you know he’d like you better with your mouth shut right now. But that proved to be quite difficult, as the second the rough leather slapped against your bottom, your mouth dropped in a screech.

"Shut up. Do as you're told." His voice grows brutal and he continues to spank you, his face becoming one of rage and fury as his hands turn red and white from the tight grip he has around the belt.

"I don’t want to hear a single sound from you unless I want it, Princess. Now, say it again. What are you?" He asks, his voice once again dripping in a scornful frigid tone.

You don’t even have to look back at your ass to know it’s absolutely bruised with purple and red marks, you can just feel them.

“I-I’m yours, forever..”

"Yes, that's right. You belong to me. So don't you ever behave like this again, understood?" 

He stares you down and punctuates his words with a bruising hit.

“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry sir..” Your voice is wavering as tears stream down your face and your body is shaking against his. His free hand reaches up to grab a handful of your hair and he forcefully yanks on it, making you groan in pain. 

“I don’t fucking care. Shut your mouth or I will make you.” 

An animalistic sob leaves your lips when he tugs at your roots harder and brutally assaults your already abused bottom. It’s like you can almost feel every line and crack of the texture of the belt at this point, as with every hit he dealt to you, the pattern was being imprinted on the red raised surface of your ass.

Then, suddenly, the hand in your hair lets you go and you can hear him switching the belt from his left hand to his right. All you can do is hang your head low and pray he’ll take it easy on you. But you know better. This is exactly what you wanted. You wanted to watch him snap, break from that caring and nurturing role he always regarded you with, and ruin you. 

When rough fingers take hold of the bottom of your panties, the fabric is ripped with an unforgiving tearing noise. Your eyes widen against the darkness of the couch and you clench at the feeling of being exposed so suddenly. 

Above you, you can hear him let out a deep chuckle at you bent over his lap, arching in anticipation as your folds glistened pathetically. 

“So pretty.. Shame you have to be so bad.”

Is all he says before you feel two large fingers prod at your hole, not giving you a moment to think before they roughly push into your plushy wet walls. Your cunt hungrily swallows what he’s given you, and he shakes his head at the sight of his fingers disappearing inside of you.

“It’s never enough for you, is it, Princess?”

The digits curl inside of you, making a scooping motion as they thrust deeper and deeper into you. Your eyes cross as they fall under heavy eyelids, and a strained whimper leaves your mouth. 

“You just.. take, take, take..”

He pulls back his fingers and fucks them back into you with each word he lets leave his mouth. 

“And it’s still never enough, hm?”

You shake your head the best you can, and moan out at his claims. 

“N-No, Si-”

The otherwise forgotten leather belt in his other hand thwacks down against your already welted ass, cutting you off. You practically scream in shock at the feeling, before he does it once more, just to shut you up again. 

“Do not fucking speak to me right now.”

A third finger joins the others inside of you in a slick motion, and the stretch has you dizzy in his lap. It doesn’t sound like he’s speaking to his girlfriend right now, not speaking at all to the woman he loves so unconditionally. No, it sounds like he’s talking to one of his worst enemies. 

His tone is full of hatred, malice, and coldness. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on beyond belief. He’d never treated you this roughly before and you were getting used to it all too easily.

Usually when he opened you like this, he took his time with you. Slowly pushing in each long digit and feeling your warm liquids gush around him, making sure you’re alright before moving another centimeter. 

But now, his hand was pistoning into you like he didn’t know how to do anything else, and his shaking fist held onto the belt above your ass so hard you were wondering how long it would take for him to pierce his nails through it.  

He was furious with you, and you adored it.

“People would kill to be treated the way I treat you. Pampered like a princess, spoiled rotten.. And yet-”

Spencer raises his hand once more and slashes the leather against your bottom before he finishes his sentence. You hold back a cry.

“You don’t want it.” 

His fingers push impossibly deeper into you and stay still against your stretched walls, giving your soaked pussy the opportunity to finally mold around them, tight like a vice. 

“What happened, baby? What happened to my Princess?”

There’s a faux tone of concern and sympathy for you in his voice, but you see right through it. You simply shake your head in response and try your damndest to not squeeze around his digits to avoid him getting even madder at you, as tempting as the idea sounds.

You can hear the material of the leather hitting the couch as he drops it, and you can feel a comforting hand come around to lightly run through your hair.

His fingers start to move once again, but much slower this time, and much more gentle. The 180 turn confuses you, but you didn’t want to be ungrateful and prove him right. 

The once stoic tone in his words softens, as he speaks to you in a comforting voice.

“Think you can cum, just like this, Princess?”

This time, you don’t stop yourself from squeezing around him, urging him deeper to press against your sensitive spot. When he reaches it, the pads of his fingers caress over it, and it makes you whimper pathetically. You nod, and swallow the drool that’s started dripping from your lips.

Spencer smiles down at you and brushes his hand through your hair. He can feel your arousal leaking out of your cunt, dripping from the fingers stuffed into you and onto the surface of his palm. 

He twists his digits around inside of you as he fucks you closer and closer to the edge, and it doesn’t take much for him to get you there, because after he deals one last press of his middle finger against your spot, you’re crying out.

“Sir.. Sir, I-I’m.. cum..I—”

Your eyes cross and roll back into your head as you right there, and just as fast as he’d gotten you from that point, he robs you of it. 

Before you can even finish your sentence, he’s pulling all of his fingers out of your drenched pussy and looking down at you with a cruel smile. The hand that was in your hair was still running gently through the strands, almost mocking you. 

Your eyes widen and you’re quick to look back and up at him, a look of panic and betrayal all over you. Tears quickly fill your waterline, threatening to fall at a moment's notice. 

“W-Wh..Why?”

A dark chuckle leaves his mouth before it’s stifled by his fingers dipping against his tongue. He cleans all of your slick from his skin, groaning at the taste. 

You can fill your impending orgasm crashing back to square one and it takes everything in you not to scream at him to just make you cum. 

“You can’t have it both ways, my love. If you want to be a bad girl, then I’ll treat you like one, understand?”

Tears finally begin to stream down your face, and even though you asked for this, you still couldn’t help the pitiful cries you let out at his cruel but deserved actions. 

“Are you ready to be my Princess again, or are you still going to be a bratty little bitch?” 

As he throws the insult at you, his fist tightens on your head and pulls tauntingly at your hair. You shake your head and swallow down a moan, your cunt is still painfully wet, pulsing and clenching around nothing. 

“I-I’ll be good, I pr-promise!” 

You weakly whine, and it’s humorous to him how quickly your little charade ended. You had planned on breaking him, but it’s clear now that you’re the only one left broken. 

As you beg him for forgiveness, you feel the teasing touch of his fingers slowly pushing between your silky wet folds. An evil smile creeps onto his face, and his voice is as dark and taunting as ever. 

“That’s what I fucking thought.” 

[selarina]

Bleeding Heart Dove

-> Nanami Kento x Reader

Summary: In the quiet routine of a strained marriage, a simple proposal for a trip offers a glimpse of hope.

Tags: angst, slow burn, marriage au, marital strain, emotional hurt/comfort, implied emotional neglect, second chance au, rainy day, fluff, suggestive, mention of reader having boobs, unresolved tension (they need to fuck nasty), unedited

Word Count: 970 words

Author's Note: it's raining and I finally got a surge to write something <3 anyway, bleeding heart dovessssssss have my heart

Read on AO3 | Part 2

Today had been sad and gloomy, the rain pouring relentlessly as the clouds had been crying since noon.

He tried to make his entrance small, creeping in like a nimble thief in the night. Slowly, he removed his sodden shoes and coat, hanging them up to dry. His umbrella he placed on the ground, even more slowly. See, it was an old one, and tended to spring up and about with sudden movement.

He stepped inside the kitchen now. There was food on the table, just as always. He uncovered the plastic wrapping and placed it in the oven, not even bothering to check what was for dinner. Hunger was gnawing at him and he would eat a human hand if you let him.

"Hello," a voice cut through.

"Oh," he turned, startled. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

"I was up anyway," you replied. Your business clothes clung to you like the remnants of a very weary day. You must have returned late as well. "Let me help, Nanami."

He didn't say anything, simply stepping aside to let you tend to his plate and yours. He had assumed he'd have the whole meal for himself, a strange notion given the portion size. But given that he hadn't eaten all day, he didn't question the rationality at first. Now, it made sense — you hadn't eaten either.

He started setting up the glasses, placing two for wine and two for water, movements mechanical and jittery.

"Here," you said, appearing before him with a corkscrew in hand, as if conjured by some quiet magic.

Your hands looked tired. Lagging. Your eyes bleary. An impulse stirred within him, as though a needle had pricked at his heart, he felt the urge to swipe his hands over your eyes, to wipe away the weariness. But he withheld.

"Thank you," he murmured, taking the corkscrew and setting to work on the bottle.

Your gaze lingered for a mere second on his hands, watching the way they flexed with the way he handled the bottle. Precise. Gentle.

"How was work?" you asked, turning to the oven.

He wonders if you actually cared about what he said. “Horrible,” he answered.

"Oh," you replied. Neutral. "Okay." Neutral again. It drove him a bit insane every time. But he was a calm man.

"And your work?" he asked.

"Oh, quite lovely," you replied, a soft, dove-like smile gracing your lips. It was a smile that brought a sting of sadness to his heart, for he knew you would not elaborate. Not for him.

"That's nice," he said, his voice hollow. He poured the wine into the glasses, filling yours to three-quarters and his to a scant half.

And then the two of you sat, on opposite ends of your teak dinner table. Eating and swallowing in silence. The clanking of the forks being the only music that filled the room. He thought about getting up to play set the record, playing some of those old jazz tunes you were quite fond of. But the record was likely dusty. It was much too much work.

So he remained seated, the silence between you so vast and impenetrable, it made you conscious about how loud you were chewing your food.

—

"Well," you returned from the bathroom. now clad in delicate sleep shorts and a camisole, applying your usual moisturizer to your elbows. "The water's cold," you commented.

"Yeah," he responded, glancing up from his spot on the bed. "Sorry, I prefer it cold so I didn't notice. I think it's the rain."

You chuckled, a sound that seemed almost out of place. "I know you prefer it cold, Nanami. We've been married for practically a millennium, for God's sake."

An exaggeration, of course. It had been six years. You did this a lot.

He offered a faint smile in response, the corners of his mouth barely lifting. "Right," he said.

He felt the bed dip slightly under your weight as you sat. "Will you get my back?" You asked, holding out the moisturiser as you turned to present your back.

He took it, as his hands lifted your camisole, all the way up. He poured some of the white lotion onto his hand as his eyes flickered up, only momentarily, to see your reflection in the mirror. The front half of your top had risen as well, cinching up your breasts.

His eyes trained back to your back, and he began to rub the cream in. Up and down. And up and down. And up and down. When he was finished, he smoothed down your top. He rubbed his hands over your shoulders, giving a gentle squeeze to let you know he was finished.

And then the two of you slept, side by side, waiting for sleep to come find you in the dark. And just then, he doesn't know how or why this happened so don't ask him. All he knew was that somewhere in those first twenty minutes, he had gotten up, his hands reaching for the night lamp to turn it on, leaving you sat up, surprised.

"What is it?" You had asked.

"We should go on a trip," he proposed, calmly.

"A trip," you squinted, your eyes adjusting to the sudden assault of light.

"Yes, we could go to Okinawa," he suggested.

You paused for a moment. "It's storming these days. The weather will be horrible."

"You pick," he said. "Wherever you want to go. We can go."

And then, you thought about it. For a few seconds, he was almost afraid you'd call him a foolish old man and fall back onto your pillow. But instead, you smiled—an earnest smile, outside of your usual politeness. And he felt his heart beating fresh blood.

"Okay, old man," you said. "I'll think of a place."

He smiled.

[dykeomania]

PLS write smut for Hazel from bottoms..I need her so bad I fear..maybe like subtop!hazel..is her having a strap too far..I need her..

this is not. a full fledged fic. but this is the first time in a sec that ive let myself be inspired by an ask. this is weirdly switcher and just pure gay-sexier than it is subby!hazel. lmk if you want things to get subbier, bc i can probably do that. but for rn i have.. this image.. and i want you to walk with me on this but also hold my hand because i'm #supershy,

(minors [including 17 year olds 🙏🏽] dni fr, under the cut: not that proofread. strap lol (r!r), foul language, breeding... language... (my bad) (hazel has a strap tho), subtop!hazel except i could've made this shit so much worse so i guess switch!hazel but like, switch!reader, idk everyone's just a whore. there's an "i love you" (or.. multiple, i guess). there's a mirror. there's a vibrator. purely stream of consciousness, i don't even think the position they're fucking in makes physical sense fr. i was bored and i was thinking, so i wrote a lot. this whole thing is not realistic btw. i have very little confidence that hazel's blowing anyone's back out, but. it's my first day out in a min so i'm rusty. all respect to the community. next time when i pull up, i'll offer something a little more tame and saccharine as opposed to [exaggerated p*rnstar moans!!!]. reblogs and whatnot appreciated.)

so, i have this .. picture.

of you putting a bullet vibe in the pocket of hazel's strap before she fucks you from behind for the first time.

she eventually finds the confidence to blow your back out, and tbh, you think it's gonna end with you seeing stars because you can already hear the fucking lottery machines going off in your head. she's fucking you so well, and hazel's problem is that you're letting her know.

at first she thinks she's going crazy. but those fucking mewls into the pillow over how deep she is, how she's making you feel so good, how you've missed her so much, are sending shocks through her clit that the vibe keeps amplifying, everytime her pelvis hits your ass.

if she thrusts hard enough, which god knows she does, it almost makes her buckle over.

you're left clenching the sheets, and gasping against the linen while she fucks you, taking you in a way that's so uncharacteristically perverse that you don't even have the brain capacity to ask yourself why you didn't ask her to take you like this, sooner. her thrusts are quick and shallow, her words breathy and a little sharp. with every jolt of your body forwards as she experimentally blows your back out, it's like you feel yourself becoming more and more removed from this fucking planet. you can't help but cry -- sob, even -- as she makes you into a mess of limbs, leaving you tugging at your tits in one split second, and gripping at the sheets the next.

something happens, though.

where her hips rut into yours in deep, hard thrusts, spaced out by what feels like eternities, you can hear her. she's moaning now, breath quickening and chest rippling everytime her crotch hits yours at a particular angle. she's mewling, and unless you're hallucinating from how fucked up you are, you can hear her --

"fuck... f--uuh--ck, fuck, fuckfuck..."

-- silently beginning to whimper.

the girl goes from bullying your cunt to burying her strap deep enough in it to make the apex of its curve nudge against your g-spot, in a way that leaves your mouth hanging wide open with nothing spilling out of it maybe other than drool, but...

it's the slick warmth of hazel's back pressed nearly flush against yours and the heat of her breath against your shoulder that makes your eyes flutter open, facing your reflection in the floor-length mirror stationed across from hazel's bed.

hazel's in it so deep, you can't even see the strap anymore. and by no exaggeration, it's like an earthquake pulses through her body everytime she nudges her hips into your ass, making your vision blurry. she's rutting into you. greedily grinding her strap into your cunt in the effort of chasing her own high.

it wasn't a secret that hazel was sensitive. more often than not, the poor girl writhed against your mouth whenever she let you put it on her ("let you" is a loose sentence -- she begs for it, sometimes). you don't even know why you're surprised that your girlfriend is getting this close over having a bullet vibe pressed against her clit, hardly protected by fabric. "b--babe--"

what sounds like a plea, amongst the feeling of hazel's thighs trembling against the back of yours, inspires something sinister inside you.

you wind your hips against her, pressing back against the strap and the toy. the sight of your ass rolling against hazel's pelvis, combined with how good it feels is gonna actually, like, make hazel fucking--

"don't cum."

she loses her breath, entirely, and her rhythm, apparently. she slows, as if that was her body's instinct to obey your orders, despite the string of breaths that tumbles out of her mouth. "n-- wha-- fuck, no, nonono--"

you wind your hips deeper into hers, extracting a moan from your own throat -- fuck, maybe your gut, since that's how deep you could feel her. you press your ass into her until you feel the buzz of the vibe against folds, the frequency of it changing and humming as you press it further into her clit. "y--es," you grit. "don't fucking cum yet, hazel."

the dull, rolling vibrations through the fabric of the strap draw hazel's eyes into the back of her head, and then closed. she's grunting now -- or all of the above -- and she tries her best to unchap her lips, fruitlessly dragging over them. the little breaths she takes through them only brings them back to being puffy, pink, and a gateway of noise that gives evidence to struggle.

"gonna let me count you down?" you puff out your sentence in one breath, and hazel can fucking hear the grin in your still-fucked-out tone and it makes her whine louder.

"yeah? gonna fuckin' let me count you down so you can cum in me, haze?"

cum.. in you. three words that you'd never even fucking uttered to her before this, and that she never fucking thought she would ever hear and.. it looks like she can't complain, because her eyes roll into the back of her head and hazel swears that she -- at least, briefly -- meets jesus christ, "oh my god--," hazel slurs, hips rolling impossibly deeper into yours, it's a miracle she hasn't swabbed your cervix yet -- "ohmygod, oh my god--"

"three..."

ohfuck. ohfuck,ohfuck,ohfuck,ohfuck. it's the soft chorus that she whispers to herself as she starts to fuck herself into you, again, opting for thrusts as a means of trying to regain control with no consideration for your demise. the vision of her blurs in the mirror, and you feel your fists grasping at her sheets again.

"fuck--" you croak. "t--two.."

she pulls you further into her, and at this point, hazel's okay with being written off as a lost cause, 'cause fuck, it's not like she has a choice. the strap brief is soaked and it's entirely your fault, and god, she throws her head back. a mess of words, a mess of sensations, hazel just blurts, "oh my g--od--i love you--"

you burst out laughing at the random proclamation, admist everything.

she forces her head down to watch you, jaw hung open. and at this point, she's just speaking. rambling and slurring and gasping, tears-in-eyes-in-awe-and-all, as she watches you throw your ass back against her.

"iloveyou so much, you're so f--ucking hot, whatthefuck?--"

there's something weirdly sweet about it. something that makes your cunt clench around the strap in a way that hollows you out shortly thereafter, and lets hazel hit that fucking spot just right. before you know it, you're wherever hazel is, cunt fully creaming around the silicon.

"i love you--" you dumbly spit out a giggle, a gasp causing a steam of spit to cascade off your bottom lip and onto hazel's navy sheets. "babe," you warn. "ohfuck, ohmyfuckinggod, you're gonna make me cu---"

"fuckingsayone," hazel, unbelievably pleads while she unbelievably spears her strap into your cunt. "oh my fucking god, say one, please, please, pleaseplease--"

she starts begging. unprompted. "it's s-so good, it's so, so good, feels so fucking good, wanna c--um in you--" and she probably repeats it. probably repeats that she wants to cum in you until she's blue in the face and,

"o-one--"

until you let her.

the noise that's ripped from hazel's throat is .. embarrassing. virginal, almost. fully reverberates off the walls, and she trembles. her clit convulses against the vibe, twitching with every short stream of her release and she folds. poor girl was holding your hips for something -- for reassurance, to get a grip, dear life, perhaps? as her hips languidly fuck and press into the surface of your ass., rocking your near limp-frame after you've pretty much creamed all over her strap.

hazel hangs over you for god knows how long, dark hair shaggy and some strands stuck to her forehead in wavy wisps. cheeks flushed, and lower lip bitten to hell. the bullet vibe fucking dies, thank god almighty, because god knows she was not in any shape to reach down and turn it off.

she stays like that for a while, until she you feel her again. this time, only gentler, and much more like herself. soft hands caressing the skin of your back, her breath warm and shaky as she peppers a splay of kisses across your skin.

as you come from the surface of your own high, you feel yourself hum. still full of her, and dizzy with it. despite it, you manage -- slurring, slightly.

"haze?"

there's a hum, somewhere.

"did that really feel that good?"

hazel distantly nods, brown locks brushing against your back.

"uh.." hazel frowns, letting out a weak laugh. "y-yeah, honestly."

the mental note gets filed away somewhere deep in the haze of your brain and you grin, when you press your ass one against her just for shits and giggles and hear her gasp, from the sensitivity of it alone.

"that's my girl."

[purplecoffee13]

Nemesis with Benefits - Part 4*

Keep me awake, buy me a coffee

Summary: “You go on a horrible date, and there’s only one address that pops in your mind when you think about blowing off some steam…”

Wc: 4.3k

Tropes: enemies to lovers

Warnings: SMUT, degradation kink (kinda), use of sex toy(🤭), bit of bondage, tiny bit of jealousy/possessiveness

A/N: I passed my exam and in celebration I have written for you this new part of Nemesis with Benefits chapter! Hope y’all like it😋

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

"And so, he said he couldn't get it, so I had to get my brother's car and drive an hour to get the keg!"

You fake a laugh, noticing that the sentence is supposed to be some sort of a punchline. Oscar's eyes twinkle with amusement at the sound of your fake giggles, and you have to do your best not to shiver at his prideful nod.

It has been three weeks since Tyler's party, and since... the events that occurred in Tyler's bedroom. Afterwards, you had picked up your life as usual, convinced that the itch was scratched and you could go back to more important things.

However, the memories of that night resurfaced your mind every single fucking day, like clockwork. Some nights you'd give in, bringing yourself to an orgasm with the help of your vibrator, but most nights you pushed the sinful thoughts down as far as possible. It made you less fun to be around, though. A bit snappy, huffing and puffing about every little thing that didn't work like you wanted it to.

So, when Benjamin suggested to set you up with this guy he knew, you couldn't agree quicker. You didn't quite care if you would get a love match out of it, you were mainly hoping for a good fuck.

Unfortunately, that wasn't going to be on the program tonight. The guy, Oscar, was the biggest fucking bore you had ever met.

Okay, maybe that is a bit of an exaggeration. He has his interests... or better said interest: drinking beer. Every story he has told so far this evening is about drinking in some kind of way. He doesn't tell any jokes, he just says the ends of his sentences a bit louder and waits for you to laugh on cue. After about three stories, you caught on.

So far, you're on story number six, and he has not yet asked one thing about you. This date is a bust, you're going to have to admit defeat.

"Excuse me for just a minute, I'm gonna go to the bathroom." You say with a polite smile, sneakily grabbing your phone as you stand up and walk away to the toilets.

Once you're out of Oscar's sight, you hurry to the bathroom and quickly get into a stall. Unlocking your phone, your fingers work fast to get to Rebecca's name and click on 'call'. You put the phone to your ear, waiting for her to answer. She is quite quick, answering you in just a few seconds.

"'Sup girl, how's the date?" She asks casually.

"Unfortunately, he's got the personality of a wet sock. I'm gonna need you to fake an emergency, please?"

"Oh my god, is it that bad?"

"I can't listen to one more second of this guy's stories. All he talks about is beer! I mean, I like myself a beer, but you can't possibly fill up an hour and a half of stories about beer!" You exclaim, making Rebecca giggle.

"I'll call you in five minutes."

With a bit more hope, you walk back to the table, and brace yourself to be bored with another beer story. You almost laugh to yourself when Oscar, like you predicted, brings up another story of the time where he drank almost half of the keg and puked in the bushes. With your jaw clenched, you lay down your fork, having lost your appetite entirely. This is the worst fucking date ever.

You count down the seconds until the phone rings, and your heartbeat rises in excitement when it does. You fake a frown, telling Oscar that you need to pick up really quick. The second you answer the call, a string of screaming and crying sounds from the other side of the line.

You should have known that Rebecca would go all out, she's a theatre major after all, but it still throws you off a bit. Holding in your laugh, you put a bit of your own acting skills to use.

"Rebecca?! What— what's up?" You hold the phone closer to your ear again. She cries out something along the lines of 'He cheated on me!'. You glance at Oscar, who is positively terrified. Mission accomplished, you think.

"Stay where you are, okay? I'm on my way!" You say as you get up from your seat, grabbing your purse. Rebecca says something else about wanting to die, and after that you hang up.

"I'm so sorry, I've got to go. This was fun, text me." You spit out before speed walking towards the exit. You hear Oscar shout out how he doesn't have your number, but you act like you don't hear him.

The second you are outside, you dial Rebecca again. Like before, she immediately picks up.

"Did it work?"

"Yes, you're a genius, thank you!" You smile, looking around to see if maybe there's a taxi near. "Now I just need to get out of here before he catches up with me or something."

"I already called an Uber for you."

You let out a dreamy sigh. "Are you an angel sent from heaven?"

"Actually, yes, I am." Rebecca jokes, and the two of you chuckle. "No but seriously, it's not big deal. It should be there now I think. It's a black Volvo."

And as if on cue, a car matching the description pulls up in front of you. You put your hand up, signaling that the driver is here for you, and walk towards the door.

"Thank you so much babe."

"No problem. Debrief tomorrow?" She asks as you slide into the car and silently greet the driver.

"Yes, over lunch?"

"Sounds good, I'll text you tomorrow. Love you."

"Okay, love you, bye." You say before hanging up the phone. The driver turns around, asking where you want to go. You give him your address, and he begins driving. It is quite a drive from your place and from campus, this restaurant.

You look out the window, reeling the ridiculously bad date. You're a bit disappointed; you were really hoping to have a fun night tonight. Sighing, you look at your phone screen, allowing a forbidden thought to crawl to the front of your mind.

After fiddling with you hands for about five minutes, going back and forth with your stance on your own idea, you make a decision. Swallowing, you unlock your phone and go to your message app.

You

Where r u?

The realization kicks in your mind the second you send the message. What the fuck are you doing? You go back to the chat, holding your finger on the message to delete it, but then you see three dots.

+1-334-555-0383

Home, why?

You

Text me ur address

+1-334-555-0383

Why?

You stare at the word he sent you for a couple of seconds. You scoff. As if he doesn't know why you are texting him right now. You think for a bit, deciding on what to send him.

You

I want my panties back

*****************************************

It doesn't take long after you've banged on Harry's door that he opens it. He wears a smirk on his face, his signature look it seems. He likes this, the fact that you're going to give in. Technically, you already have, but you aren't going to admit that.

He doesn't say anything, merely stepping aside to let you in. You stride into his apartment, letting your eyes fly over the apartment. It is not what you expected at all. The boring beige and grey colors you had imagined would dominate the color palette of his living room is instead a navy blue. There is nothing grey about this place at all.

Nevertheless, you ignore all the things you want to say about his apartment, and turn around, hands on your hips.

"So?" You shrug, insinuating for him to give you your panties back. You both know it's not what you're here for, and Harry raises his eyebrows, as if having accepted the challenge to see whoever can hold up this act the longest.

"It's probably somewhere in the panty drawer."

"You have a panty drawer?" You frown, disgusted with him even having such a concept.

"Women always seem to leave them here." He says, casually strolling towards his bedroom. You follow him with a sigh. Entering his bedroom, you try your best not to look so surprised over how beautiful it is. The deeper shade of dark blue that coats the walls looks very pretty in comparison to the light bedding, curtains and other furniture.

When you turn around, you see your panties in Harry's hand. He holds it out for you to grab, but pulls away just when you try to do so. You give him a pointed look, but he doesn't seem to care. The second attempt to snatch the panties from his grip fails as well, and you find yourself groaning in frustration.

"Stop being a fucking dick." You bark at him.

"Fine." He shrugs. You reach for the panties again, but Harry catches your worst with his free hand. His eyes search yours. "Tell me why you really came here, and I'll give you your panties back."

"I came here to get my panties." You say through gritted teeth, blood rising to your cheeks. The touch of Harry's fingers on your wrist heats your skin up even more than his infuriating actions do.

"Try again." He grins, dimples showing and everything.

"I came here to get my panties." You repeat, glaring at him with nothing but fury behind your eyes. He throws the panties behind him, and they land back on his drawer.

"See, I think you're lying." Harry says, stepping a bit closer to you. You lose your breath at the proximity, and you feel like you might start sweating. Harry notices, and smirks, pressing his thumb into your wrist. "I can feel your heartbeat, you know."

You huff, not sure you're able to keep this up any longer. Harry lets go of your wrist and sneaks his hand around your neck instead. You feel the blood pumping through your veins as he leads you backwards towards his bed.

"I think you're a little bit frustrated. You couldn't get me out of your system, so now you're here to beg for my cock." His low voice vibrates through the room before he pushes you onto the bed, standing over you. "Did I guess that right?"

When you don't answer, Harry scoffs.

"Fine, you won't mind if I find out for myself, will you?" He asks, pushing your legs apart. You obey him silently, shaking your head. You refuse to admit defeat, but you're afraid that the second his fingers touch your pussy, it'll be game over.

Harry's fingers slowly trail up your leg, taking his time with his victory. You hold your breath, the pounding of your heart making it feel like it might jump out of your chest, as you stubbornly hold his stare. His fingers wrap around your panties and gently pull them down, the smirk on his face only growing the further the panties are pulled down your legs.

The cool air that hits your cunt nearly makes you shiver, but you resist the urge, and focus on maintaining the last shred of dignity you have by holding up that poker face of yours.

You watch Harry observe your pussy, as if it is the first time he's ever seen it. Despite knowing that he is dragging this out to tease you, you can't help but ball your fists in anticipation of what he's going to do or say. When Harry's eyes flick up to yours again, you let out a hint of a sigh.

"Well, well, look who's turning out to be a liar." He says cockily, tongue running against his cheek. Your face remains stoic, and you refuse to say anything. "What am I going to do with this, hmm?"

He looks at you for a few seconds, a thought running through his mind. Then, he suddenly walks away from you and to his closet. You lean on your elbow to sit up a bit, trying to see what the hell he is doing. When he turns around, he is holding a small box. Your eyes widen when you see the picture on the box.

"Are you open to trying out this toy?" He asks, nearing you again.

"I'm not going to put a vibrating egg inside of me that has already been inside of like seventeen other people." You argue, shaking your head in disagreement. Harry quirk up an eyebrow, the right corner of his mouth tugging up.

"Seventeen is an oddly specific number." He notes, and you roll your eyes. Of course that is what he pays attention to.

"It's the first number that came to mind." You reply, unimpressed by his attempt to seem funny. He laughs softly, putting the box down beside you.

"It's new, I just bought it. It's not even out of the plastic wrapping yet." He tells you as you scan the box. The shiny plastic coat around the box makes you believe he is indeed telling the truth. You think it over for a second, still not entirely sure.

"Why'd you buy it?"

Harry shrugs. "Well, technically I didn't buy it. The website had this deal about getting an extra secret toy, or something. I honestly don't really remember, truth be told I was kind of high when I ordered it."

You sigh, your lips cracking into an unavoidable smile. Of course he orders sex toys while he's high, the bloody idiot.

"Okay, yes. I've always wanted to try it."

Harry looks pleased with your answer, and he is quick to return to business. "Alright then, get further onto the bed and lean your head against the headboard."

Your stomach bubbling with excitement, you crawl towards the headboard and wait until Harry comes walking over with a belt. When he signals for you to give him your wrists, you don't hesitate to do so, biting your lip impatiently as he ties your wrists above your head.

You wait for him to put the batteries in the toy and test it out on his hands—which seems like it takes forever—before he finally saunters back to you. He sits down on the side of the bed, and brings his hand down to your cunt, inspecting it with his own digits.

You gasped out at the sudden contact, not having expected it to be so much and out of practically nowhere. Without a word, he pushes a finger inside of you. You try to catch up with your breathing but it is hard with Harry pumping his finger in and out of you, especially when he decides to add another one.

The frown that paints your face and expresses the emotion that your shut eyes can't portray, have Harry picking up his pace a bit. The squelching sound of your wetness only increases with every time he sticks his fingers inside your hole, but you manage to keep quiet despite the immense pleasure that makes you want to scream out.

It is only when Harry removes his finger that a slight whimper falls from your lips, and Harry feels the immediate results of it: tighter pants. Figuring you are wet enough now, he grabs the toy from his lap and brings it to your pussy.

"'M gonna put it in now, okay?" He announces. You squeak out an 'okay' and watch as Harry lets the toy disappear inside of you, filling you up ever so slightly. He softly restrains your legs from closing, watching in awe at how your chest rises and falls at the hand of your breathing.

"You okay?" He asks when he's put the toy all the way in. Your heavy eyes fight to stay open as you answer him with a soft 'yes'. He nods, looks down at the remote in his hands, and gets up from the bed. Your eyes trace his every movement, heart pounding at the thought of what his next step could possibly be.

He walks over to his dresser, and grabs the panties which you came to retreat in the first place. He turns around and stalks back to you, standing in front of you now on the end of the bed. One hand in his pocket, the other one holding your panties.

"You wanted these, right?" He asks. You nod, and open your mouth to respond, but the feel sudden vibrations cause you to let out nothing but a string of moans.

"I asked you a question." Harry taunts you, walking over to you. "Did you want these?"

The chance at an answer is interrupted once again by the increasing speed of the toy, and you shriek out at the intense feeling of it. Your body squirms, and you feel yourself getting fed up by these stupid games Harry is playing.

"Alright then, let me ask you a different question. Why did you come here? Honest answers this time." He warns, sitting down next to you again. He strokes your shaking leg. You take a deep breath.

"I was on a date." You confess. As soon as the sentence has left your mouth, the rhythm changes. Your hips buck at the sudden switch. Harry, with his jaw clenched, nods at your honest answer.

"Doesn't explain why you're here." He replies nonchalantly. You sigh in frustration.

"I— I needed... I was frustrated, and I thought he could help me, but he couldn't." You say, hoping he's catching onto what you're saying. From the look on Harry's face, it seems that he does.

"So you came to me to relieve that frustration? How sweet..." He concludes arrogantly. You can't put him in his place, though, because that's exactly why you came here.

You don't expect him to add his thumb to your clit for extra stimulation, but he does. You cry out his name along with a few profanities at the increased pleasure, especially now that he's changed the speed to its maximum.

"Hmm, just this once, that's what you said, right?" He taunts, pressing his thumb down a bit harder, leaving you nothing but a whimpering mess under him. You lower your arms unconsciously, but Harry pushes them back.

"Wish you could see yourself, tied up and crying for me like the desperate slut you truly are. Knew you'd come running back, begging for my cock. Knew one time wouldn't be enough for you." The filthy words fall from his lips so easily, as if second nature to him. It sounds so good with the combination of his voice and accent. The degrading words bring you to the edge, and his fingers push you right over it.

"Ah, shit! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!" You whimper, eyes shut as your entire body moving along with the aftershocks of your orgasm. While still coming down from your orgasm, you hear the faint sound a belt unbuckling, but you only open your eyes when you feel the bed dip.

You watch in awe as Harry leans over you, and hiss when he takes out the egg. He puts it on the nightstand along with the remote before aligning his hard, bare cock with your wet hole. And just like that, he pushes himself into you.

You wince at the change of size, breathing deeply as he enters himself entirely. It is easy to slide in considering how drenched you are, but you still have to get used to his girth again. Harry sighs at how tight your pussy feels around his cock, uttering out some curse words as he lets you adjust to him. And then, he begins to move.

"Shit, you’re so big… it feels so good." You pant, your eyes fluttering shut. Your senses are entirely focused on the way Harry is building up his pace inside of you and his lingering touch on the rest of your body. He is everywhere; he massages your tits, grazes his fingers over your thigh, and grips at your waist.

"I know baby, just the way you needed, hmm? Worth breaking the one-time rule, isn't it?"

"F-fuck... yes Harry."

"Glad you came to your senses and called me, sweetheart. Not like that guy could've satisfied you the way you needed." He cockily remarks, and it almost feels like the comment is more for himself than to you.

"Maybe he can." You decide to stir the pot. Your core flutters at the low chuckle that leaves Harry's mouth. He pulls himself almost all the way out of you, before he thrusts into you with way more force. You moan loudly at the feeling of him reaching your g-spot.

"No he can't, sweetheart. Otherwise you wouldn't have texted me after your shitty little date, begging to be fucked dumb by me." He says, resuming to deeply thrust into you. You have lost nearly any ability to truly form coherent sentences, only borderline pornographic moans managing to escape you. Your face is curled up, and you clench your fists together.

"Fuck you—" is all you manage to croak out.

"I am fucking you, baby. And you love it so much, I can tell you’re close. Are you gonna do it, baby? You gonna soak the cock of the guy you hate most?" Harry teases you with his words, but his fingers are back on your clit. It doesn't take long after his touch reaches your most sensitive nub before you begin to spasm under him. A long string of high pitched whines accompany to euphoric orgasm that overcomes you.

Instead of slowing down, Harry begins to chase his own orgasm, driven by the way you are clenching around him, and picks up his pace. The sound of your bodies clashing against each other and your panted moans are like music forming a symphony and you can't quite fathom how good the two of you sound together. During sex, that is, not in any other situation.

"You fuck me so good, Harry. I hate it." You confess, still woozy from your orgasm and how deeply Harry is driving into you right now. Not even a few seconds later, Harry's hips still, and he lets out the sexiest groan you have ever heard in your life. He falls over you, catching himself with his hands. He keeps himself and his seed buried inside of you as he tries to steady his breathing and looks at you, curls hanging in front of your face. A smile creeps on both your lips.

"So... can I have my panties back?" You joke, and Harry laughs accordingly. A silence follows soon after, one in which Harry pulls himself out of you, unties your wrists, and carries you to the bathroom to clean you up.

Afterwards, you walk back to the bedroom together, where Harry puts you back on the bed and tells you to wait there while he grabs you some water. You obey, but your eyes fall shut by accident.

When Harry returns, he sees you, lying on your side with your eyes closed, breathing deeply. For a second he thinks about walking you up, but it quickly dawns on him that he doesn't really feel the need to do that. He has tired you out quite a bit, and he's already seen you naked, so what does a few hours of sleeping next to each other really matter?

*****************************************

*The next morning*

It was quite the shock to open your eyes and realize you weren't lying in your own bed. It had come back to you swiftly, the events of last night, and you were quite disturbed with the fact that a smile was the first bodily reaction you had to the memory.

You didn't want any unnecessary drama or awkward conversations, so you decided to sneak out.

Now, on your way home with the bus, that same smile paints your face again, that is until you are interrupted by the ringing of your phone. You immediately pick up when you see Rebecca's name.

"Hey, how are you?" She asks once you've greeted her.

"Good. Better, knowing that I am never ever going to date again." You exaggerate, mainly for fun.

"Don't say that! You'll be fine." She urges, her voice letting her gentleness shine through like it always does. "Anyways, I wanted to ask, where are we having lunch?"

"Uhm, how about that new place across your street?" You suggest, and Rebecca contests in an agreeing hum.

"Sounds good!”

You smile. “Okay, then I’ll meet you there at… twelve?”

“Perfect, and then you can tell me why you didn’t go home last night.” She says, and you can tell she’s holding back her laugh, but your face pales entirely. When you don’t respond, she’s quick to continue. “I saw that the Uber ride ended on some street near campus, so you definitely didn’t spend the night home right?”

You take a deep breath, a thousand possible lies running through your brain as you think of a response.

“I’ll tell you over lunch.” You finally say, and distance your ear from the microphone at the sound of a high pitched squeal coming from the other line. You giggle at your friends’ enthusiasm, but your stomach is heavy with the weight of this blown up lie.

After that night at the party, you thought, that would be that. You’d never hook up with Harry Styles ever again, and the event would be erased from your memory. Although, it didn’t exactly, as you thought about it every night, but you didn’t expect yourself to do this kind of shit. And the worst thing is, it feels too good to stop. You don’t want this to be the last time.

So, you better think of some elaborate lie to tell Rebecca.

Your head shoots back to your phone screen when it lights up and the familiar ping of a text sounds through the bus. You lower your volume and unlock your phone to see who texted you this early in the morning.

+1-334-555-0383

You forgot your panties again

[orphicrose]

I got bit by a spider a while ago and it made me come up with this request idea, imgiane Alastor x reader were they were already together and one day they come to him with a spider bite and then he aboustly looses it on Angel even tho the reader persists it wasn't him it was an actual spider and AL is like "doesn't matter! I'm not letting any spider harm you!" And Angel is like "HEY! IM A SPIDER DEMON NOT A SPIDER! AND I DONT BITE...unless ya want me too, and what are ya a spider racist?" And its a stupid argument but Alastor is still mad at Angel for a spider bite he didn't cause and Charlie and Vaggue have to break it up. 🤣

Tiny spider

This was really fun to write. Thank you so much for the suggestion

_______________𖤐

Alastor was always your night in shining armour when it came to bugs. Hearing your squeals of terror from the room next door to him, he could always safely assume it was because of some sort of mutated beetle or spider. And he was right 90% of the time. He’d swiftly eliminate the threat, sometimes letting it outside. Sometimes calling over niffty to have her fun with it. This time, though, he was too late. It got you. Seeping into your skin with its sharp fangs before you had the chance to notice it was on you.

Flinging your hand about in sheer panic, you let out a cry for help. Alastor assuming someone had murdered you, materialising into the room next to you hearing his hands. Ready to smite someone with his black magic at any given moment.

You turned, showing him the tiny red mark at the end of your finger. He calmed down, posture adjusting itself. He took your hand in his, moving his monocle closer to his eye to get a better look at the microscopic mark the even tinier perpetrator had left on you.

“What happened my love? A paper cut?” He mindlessly questioned to the sobbing face in front of his.

“It got me…” you almost wept from the panic.

“What got you, my darling” his arms slithered around your waist to pull you into an embrace.

“A spider”

His pupils dilated at the sentence, his beloved was hurt and his instincts tell him to seek justice. Arms pushed you away and within the blink of an eye, was on a search for said spider. There is was, all of its arms waving about in front of him, golden teeth bared ready to attack its next victim.

“Yeah so, now I have to work all day to make up for it tomorrow” angels arms waved around, exaggerating his story to the cat behind the bar in front of him.

“Uh huh.” He responded nonchalantly , cleaning a glass in his hand with a mouldy cloth. His face slowly lifted to see the spiders face, but his eyes widened when he saw the enraged Alastor behind him. Thinking it was for him, but almost relieved when Alastor reached for Angels neck from behind.

Angie screeched in a mix of confusion and fear, managing to twist his flexible body around in the deers clench. Soon being thrown to the floor “What the fuck are ya doing there, Alastor?” His voice was nervous, backing away as he was planted below him.

“You bit my darling y/n. Spider” he walked slowly toward the spider, before he burst out laughing. Leaving the confused Alastor with a tilt in his neck. “You think this is funny?”

Angel struggled to form a word between breaths of air. “Let me guess. Y/n got bit by a spider and you’re automatically gunning for me?” He got up, hand on his knee to help him.

“That’s a bit discriminatory to us spiders, we don’t all have 8 legs yanno?” He dusted his blazer off and wiped away a tear from his eye. Alastor losing his temper the more he spoke. Someone needed to pay for the harm, he thought.

Within seconds hell broke loose. Charlie and Vaggie rushed to the lobby after hearing something break. To be met with glasses being throw at the wall, a black tentacle slapping husk around the face, angels golden tooth glaring as he shot anything that moved and a fire In Alastors eye that said “death to all”. It was mayhem.

Before they had a chance to react, another scream came from the living room. Stopping everyone from what they were doing… except for niffty. Niffty was still cleaning up after everyone like a mad man.

Rushing to the room next door, the group stopped in their tracks to find you hiding on the mantle piece above the fire place.

“My dear? What’s the matter?” Alastor spoke first, stepping into the room.

“SPIDER!! ITS BACK TO FINISH ME OFF!” You screamed, pointing at the tiny black spec on the floor.

“Oooohh…” everyone in the door way collectively hummed, realising the mistake.

“what have you got to say to me now,huh?”Angel poked his shoulder, the demon gritting his teeth as his head snapped back.

“There’s still time to kill you, Angel dearest!”

[sosickastro]

Hi!! I saw your post about being open to req's and was wondering if you could do a yandere jjk x reader one!

Snow leopard hybrid gojo would not leave my mind and i've been rotating a scenario in my head about reader smelling a bit too much of other men. But they aren't dating and gojo's is starting to go insane about it and so confronts reader bout it.

i mean you could do it without satoru being a hybrid, i don't really mind. i'm just craving for a yan gojo rn

I AM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE

HOLY SHIT- SCHOOL SUCKS

BUT I'M ALMOST DONE YAY

Warnings: slightly possessive Gojo, crappy writing, maybe full on possessive Gojo, Gojo having a scent kink thing, so mdi (?) 18+ (?), Gojo really loving your smell and but also calling you smelly (I’m scening a slight theme with my writing…)

As always lmk if I miss anything and this isn’t proof read so grammar mistakes 🫶

———-

Fem reader!

‘Jesus Christ I want to quit my job’ was all that was running through my head as I walked up the sets to my home, my feet crying out for relaxation after the horrible treatment of a 9-hour shift. All I want to do right now is to curl up in my bed and cry.

I open my front door, and at the same time, my phone starts to ring off. Huffing I close the door and set down my bag, I awkwardly shuffle through my pockets to see ‘Gojo’ lighting up my screen. An exaggerated sign escapes my lips as I answer the call. “Hello?” My horse voice spoke out, “I’m coming over! I see you off of work” a very happy Gojo responded to me, I looked down at my disgusting work clothes and the overall quality of how I felt, “Gojo- look, I don’t feel like hanging-“ “Great! I’ll be over in 5 minutes.” Was all I heard before the abrupt sound of the call being hanged up. I roughly made my way to my bathroom, if Gojo is coming over might as well look decent.

The thing with Gojo is, that he has been becoming increasingly clingy to me. Especially knowing days when I have work it’s almost as if there’s some sort of thing growing inside himself. I tend to brush him off whenever he buries his head into the crook of my neck, his long lengthy arms curled tightly around my stomach, or when he invites himself to stay the night but insists that I wear his clothes. I brush it off as Gojo being himself as he is usually very overly touching with everyone in his life- but sometimes- sometimes, it feels a little off.

I sighed as I heard my front door opening and closing I wrapped a large towel around my body. I run my fingers through my wet hair as I cringe at it being tangled up. I slip on an old hoodie and a pair of shorts, using the towel to dry my hair I set out of the bathroom and I’m immediately pushed against the wall nearby. My vision gets clouded by a mop of white hair and twitching light grey ears, as Gojo buries his head into the crook of my neck.

“Mm-Gojo!” I yelp in surprise as I place my hands on his solid chest trying to move him off of me

Keyword: trying

Gojo slips his hands down my arms, creating goosebumps in his wake as he grabs my hands with his own and places them around his midsection. His own hands find home on my hips as I feel an aggressive sign flow out of him. “M’ not Gojo, it’s ’Toru to you” his voice is horsed, and Gojo buries his head more into my neck- if that’s even physically possible. “You smell like other guys.” Gojo bluntly says,

I raise my eyebrows at him, my hands are mindlessly playing with his Snow White hair. “What do you mean ‘Toru?” I ask, the man-child before me lets out a groan. He raises his head from my neck and stares at me with his ocean-blue eyes. My heartbeat picks up as I feel my face heat up. Wordless Gojo tilts his head to the side, his eyes turn to something more obsessive. His pale hands travel up my body to cup my face, the air in my lungs gets stuck in there.

“You smell. Every day, every single day you always smell and it’s driving me insane.” He leans into me, our lips inches apart as his eyes dart down to my lips. “You should only smell like me, only be with me. I can give you so much baby.” His right-hand caresses the side of my face. I shake my head

“ ‘Toru you..” I let out a shaky sigh “You don’t want-“ “I know exactly what I want baby.” Gojo cuts me off, his breath growing more aggressive.

His lips move to the shell of my ear. “I want, no- need you baby. I need it so badly you don’t even know the depth of it” he whispers in my ear as he goes back to face me. “You need me to, I’ll prove it to you.” I nodded my head, allured to the words Gojo was feeding me, our lips connected as he immediately pressed the kiss. His arms cage me against this wall. My knees feel like they are going to give out.

“I’m going to show you just how much I need you baby.”

—————

A/n: this isn’t really that yandere, kinda forgot about that while writing this LMAO

[kingdomoftyto]

I'm crying laughing, the DVDs are even worse than I remember... Season 1's menus are silent with a single static jpg of the same key character art they use for everything else, and the episodes on the Season 2 discs don't even match what's listed on the box! Absolutely stunning lack of shits given. Truly unparalleled. But I really shouldn't be surprised given... well... everything about how this series has been treated since the very beginning.

Time for a quick ~✨PHANDOM HISTORY LESSON✨~ to give newer/less hyperfixated folks more context for why the graphic novel being as great as it is is such a HUGE deal:

Danny Phantom was one of Nickelodeon's MAIN cartoons, in its time. It was a central pillar. One of the top three or four of their lineup, which is saying something when the competition includes the cultural juggernaut that is Spongebob.

Despite this, and despite its superhero theming making it perfectly marketable, it got basically ZERO official merch.

What little we did get was often ugly and very, very cheap. The dedication at the start of the graphic novel that jokes about collecting the Burger King toys? That's because it was some of the most notable merch the franchise EVER had. (I sadly do not have any of it. There was no BK in my hometown. Here's a pic from the internet, though, to give you an idea.)

If you think I'm exaggerating about that being the most significant physical merch to come out of the series, consider that the first video game had an entire menu option specifically for the Burger King promotional tie-in:

That video game, by the way, was one of only two ever based on the show. The first was an adaptation of "The Ultimate Enemy" in the style of a short sidescrolling beat-em-up, and the second was themed around "Urban Jungle" and (as far as I can tell--I've only played the first couple levels) was an arcade-style scrolling shooter. Both were for the Gameboy Advance, and both are...... fine, as far as cash-grabby video game tie-ins to kids' shows go. This was pretty normal for the time, so I suppose we did okay in that department, actually. They're not GOOD, but they're playable and have at least a bit of effort put into them.

But besides those two video games (plus a handful of simple, long-defunct Flash games on nick.com)? In the decade and a half since the show ended?

Nothing.

No books, no games, no comics, no web shorts--unless you count mega-crossovers with every other Nicktoon (a la Nicktoons Unite), or soulless promotional material like "Fairly Odd Phantom" (which, trust me, despite being the first new DP animation in over 10 years was not even worth the effort of watching).

...I think there was a limited edition FunkoPop once?

So yeah.

A Glitch in Time is not just the first cool, well-made thing we've seen from the franchise in a while. It's the first THING we've seen since the show. PERIOD. And arguably the first worthwhile supplementary material to EVER come out of the show, depending on how you feel about those GBA games and the Nicktoons crossovers.

This franchise is widely beloved even now, almost 20 years after it first aired, and it feels like that fact is now, finally, FINALLY getting some official recognition.

PLEASE read A Glitch in Time. Tell other people about it. The series--no, the fans--deserve this (and more of this, if the folks in charge see enough of a response and decide to grace us with any followup). It's LONG overdue, but better late than never.

[scoobydoodean]

hot take ig but… dean wanting to contain jack was not cruel or even a bad idea…

first, it was not just dean’s idea. sam agreed, and cas had basically the same idea, just using the cage instead. but for some reason everybody ignores this!! second, containing dangerous people is what they always do. sam and cas have done so to dean. the s5 finale was all about locking up a dangerous powerful being. and there are other examples! third, jack was the most powerful being in the universe and had no soul meaning no ability to discern right from wrong. he was killing people! and they’ve always seen soulless people as dangerous. dean was willing to let sam die via the process of returning his soul bc he saw that soulless sam was not sam. and sam agreed!

like. yes dean was not handling the situation well, let alone gently, so i understand why sam and cas were frustrated. but his mother had just been killed (and ftr i do think cas was being kind of insensitive about it), and jack was still killing other people. dean’s allowed to be angry. he was being outwardly meaner, but sam was agreeing with him (he said a part of him wanted jack dead!) up until the point that dean actually agreed to kill jack for chuck.

idk i just feel like people really exaggerate dean’s actions in this situation especially in comparison to what sam and cas were saying and/or doing too. so i’m just wondering what you think of all of this? do you think dean was “right” or was he overreacting? or do you think the audience is too hard on dean (as always :/) about this? could this be another version of samdela effect? cause i feel like people misremember what the others were saying/doing in order to put more on dean…

also omg i just realized how long this became, so so sorry for the long rant!! if you can respond, thank you!

*opens my coat* would you care for some memes?

I will take your hot take and flambé it. When it comes to this subject, I don't feel inclined to be patient with fandom or carefully lay anything out piece by piece. I'm sick and tired of hearing about what a betrayal it was to put Jack in the box and how mean and evil and abusive it was blah blah blah cry me a river. I was there watching when that episode aired and saw how stupid everyone was about that episode in real time and it was annoying then and it continues to be annoying that almost no one seems to bother putting a single granule of thought into this episode or what Sam and Dean were thinking or what the stakes actually were. And yeah—it was not just Dean who did that despite the samdela effect hard at work causing people to insist Dean somehow forced Sam to go along with him when that categorically did not happen.

People act like Jack was just standing there shitting rainbows and unicorns out of his ass and Dean turned around and strangled him to death for it. What happened was Soulless Jack killed Sam and Dean's mom and then went off and turned someone into a pillar of salt for being an atheist and filled someone else's body with worms to punish them for not wanting to be turned into an angel. Then he showed up at the bunker trying to make nice in the most hauntingly emotionless way possible—calling killing Mary an accident and then in his next breath saying he snapped and killed her because she threatened to reveal that the manner in which he killed Nick was scary and disturbed. In other words—he made it very clear to Mary's sons that murdering her was not actually a fucking accident at all even while he was calling it one.

Jack: I know -- I know things have been bad. A-And, if it helps, I regret it. The accident. Sam: The -- The accident? Jack: What happened to Mary. She kept talking about my soul, t-that I didn't have a soul, and she kept pushing. Dean: Oh, so she made you do it. Jack: No, it -- it was me, but I didn't want this no-soul thing to become an issue between us. I guess I snapped. Before I knew it, it was all over. Dean: "It" being the accident.

So Sam and Dean tricked him (the most powerful being in all creation) into getting in a box and he sat in there for 10 minutes. Oh no. How horrible.

A lot of the stupid fandom response to this is rooted in the babyfication of Jack that ran rampant within fandom at the time and continues in many circles. I happen to like Jack, and when I say that, I mean that I actually like him, and not the fanon adultbabydestiellovechild the fandom invented who has the emotional and mental capacity of a two year old and can't understand the difference between right and wrong. The real Jack did understand, and the real Jack would be (and was when he returned) horrified by what soulless Jack did (and for more than just how it would impact him). Jack was always an emotional person who struggled to control great power, but he had a strong moral compass and he loved people. That Jack would never have subjected someone to the twisted biblical punishments soulless Jack did for the crime of not believing in god or in him???? That Jack would have thrown Dumah into a wall in a rage for the mere suggestion he kill people over their beliefs and said, "You're hurting people". That Jack also would have wanted Sam and Dean to lock him up to protect others.

Some of the fandom problem with this also has to do the soulless lore as a whole and the constant usage of Donatello as the "soulless people can manage" poster child. Which ignores not only soulless Jack's actual behavior and how deeply dangerous his powers make him, but... pretty much every other soulless person we ever saw in the series, from soulless Sam, to numerous victims of Amara who turned into raging murderers in season 11 after she ate their souls. Hell though—the same people who insist soulless Jack was some poor little baby who just needed gentle parenting probably also think there was nothing wrong with soulless Sam despite the fact that he watched his brother be assaulted multiple times and seemed to actively enjoy it. Just normal Sam things, right? Donatello is the exceptional soulless person—not the rule—and it's because it isn't in his best interest to make trouble.

The idea that soulless Jack could be molded was suggested by Cas, but he also (as you pointed out) ended up inquiring about putting Jack in The Cage, instead of the Ma'lak box (and after the Ma'lak box was destroyed, so it wasn't an option anymore).

Lbr—the misogyny also jumped out in this string of episodes. Countless posts one after the other about how stupid Mary was and how it was all her fault and Jack did nothing wrong. How dare she make Jack angry. God forbid. What a stupid, frail, illogical woman. She deserved to die long before that anyway because she was a terrible mother, right? I mean it was obvious this sort of nonsense would come from the fandom in advance, given how many people had meltdowns over Dean shooting Jack in the back (something that didn't hurt Jack in the least) to get him to stop strangling a black store clerk to death in 13.23. As always, the imagined frail little fee fees of the white adult baby that fans invented must supersede other people's lives. Jack should be allowed to throw whatever tantrums he wants and kill anyone he wants during them and in response, Dean should shush him and start singing lullabies and carry him to a rocking chair to nurse.

[gaylorvader]

Agatha All Along Episode 4 Spoilers

Lorna Wu's Version of The Ballad Of The Witches Road

I know we're all distracted by the almost sapphic kiss in this week's episode but can we talk about the new version of the witches road ballad. Like the fact it was Alice's mom's way of protecting her and the lyrics "if I can't reach you, let my song teach you" like that shit makes me emotional dog. Makes me think of my parents and how they've only ever been supportive even if they don't understand, how they'd do anything for me. And "I'll see you at the end" like her mom's saying I'll see you in the afterlife, like she almost knew the curse would kill her. The whole thing is so god damn tragic man. And I almost forgot the line "my love can not be turned" her saying I'll always love you no matter what, like fuck dude. :'(

And Alice getting revenge on the curse, seemily killing it while singing and playing her mom's song that she made to protect her. The shot with Alice looking determined and angry at it with the fire in the background was SO cool. I wish I could find a picture of it. She's looking at it like "try me bitch" and I just know all that was going through her head was memories of her mom.

It hits so fucking hard for me. Like I'm deadass almost crying, like I'm being 100% literal with that no exaggeration. Maybe it's cause musics so important to me and such a big part of my life, and my parents mean the world to me. Idk. Maybe I can see myself in Alice's shoes, knowing how hurt and angry I'd be, and how badly I'd want revenge for what happened to them. Alice is now one of my favorite characters in the show, it's Teen and her either barely below him or tied for 1st.

I feel like I could keep talking but I'd probably end up repeating myself so imma end it here. God that episode was so good.

(Edit)Took a picture of the scene I was talking about. The quality ain't good cause it's a picture of a screen but still.

[calico-cheriies]

Dream Girl |Yuta Okkotsu x Reader Fanfic|

{Chapter Three}

{Masterlist}

{Dream Girl Masterlist}

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You were sitting on the edge of a bed, your hands gripping the sheets a little too tightly as Miss Shoko gently cleaned your wound. It wasn't as bad as you thought- you weren't really used to pain, this was your first time receiving such a huge wound. You also didn't want them to think you were a cry baby so you tried to keep a neutral expression.

Gojo-Sensei took it upon himself to ramble about who knows what, you seemingly nodded and let a few one-word comments at his over exaggerated stories. It wasn't until Miss Shoko finished and left to take a smoke break that Gojo-sensei gently flicked you on the forehead to get your attention. "You know," he started off, "It's a really brave thing you did." You scrunched your face up in disbelief.

"It was dumb- I really need to get a weapon. I just-" you looked up at the ceiling, your eyes narrowed as all kind of critics of yourself ran through your head. "I thought I would be better. I hate being weak when I could be so much better," you rubbed your eyes, almost wanting to pluck them out yourself.

"Aye, you're being too hard on yourself," he waved his index finger around disappointingly. "With that much power, it's good to learn to control it properly," he understood the pressure you probably felt, and you had no choice to really do much. "We'll find ya something nice to use to protect yourself when your eyes aren't available," he decided, which made you slightly relieved.

"Oh great, I'll look forward to that," you shot him a small smile, but before anything was said, Gojo-sensei turned to the door, "Ya can come in, Yuta," he had that usual cocky smirk as the door slowly opened to reveal the surprised boy. "I didn't even knock," he mumbled, which warranted a laugh from your teacher. "I'm such a good guesser!" He then placed his hands in his pockets.

"Alright, you two need to start getting some rest. We'll be up bright and early tomorrow!" You were already too excited to find a weapon, and some rest seemed really nice to you. "Yuta, show our dearest (Y/n) to her room!" He slid open the door before leaving, which prompted the boy to jump. "Ah- I don't know where it is..." his words fell upon deaf ears.

You on the other hand, had a small smile on your lips. Every interaction with Yuta was always so naturally funny. It's probably because of his shy and awkward nature, "Okkotsu," you softly called out, catching his attention. "Can you help me off?" You gently held your hand out, the table was quite high and your back was sore. "Ah- sure," he scuffled over to you, his hand gently intertwining with yours to help you off.

His other hand supported your waist which made the process much smoother, you were a little flushed to be this close to him but something about it made you feel better.

Okkotsu really made you feel better.

Your knees wobbled a bit once your feet made contact with the ground, but his grip on you tightened slightly to keep you from falling. "Ah, fuck," you softly cursed, a burning sensation shooting up your spine. "You okay?" His fingers gently loosening on your waist as you nodded. You soon started to walk on your own, your shoulders rolling forward.

"Yeah... can you guide me to my room?" You sheepishly smiled, but his hand was still intertwined with yours. "Huh? Oh sure," he gently tugged you in the correct direction. You took the time to look at your surroundings, it was mostly bland and you could see that the sun was setting down. It created a beautiful atmosphere, the reddish orange colors blending in with the cool blue of the incoming night.

"It is usually quiet?" You asked, not hearing any other noise, you assumed everyone else probably retreated to their rooms or were still coming back from their practice. "Um... sometimes?" He glanced back to see you looking out the passing windows. "I mean- when we come back from practices yeah... but when we're all together it gets kinda loud," you could see the fond smile forming on his lips as he spoke.

It was nice.

You continued to ask small questions here and there, you two had a ways to walk anyway so it was nice to kill the time. You got to know a little bit more about him, such as how long he's been there for, some moments with his friends, and even life before jujutsu high. "Schools huh? Did you like it?" You asked him, trying to picture what "school" would be like.

You had always wanted to try being at school, since you've been homeschooled your entire life. "It was... it wasn't the best," he sighed, "I guess I always had a hard time getting myself out there... hard to make friends," you hummed in response, "I guess you're right... everyone is different," he was glad that you assumed it was about diversity than about his attached curse.

But you knew, you just didn't want to remind him.

"Ah, are these the rooms?" You asked as you two approached the end of the hall. "Yeah! My room is right here..." he stopped in the middle of the hall, nudging his head to the side to show you, "oh..." you looked around to see the other doors, hoping one of them was empty with your stuff. "I guess... we'll start here," he walked over to the door in front of his, gently sliding it open to reveal an empty room with thankfully your luggage.

"Oh thank goodness," your body visibly relaxed and you accidentally leaned into Yuta. "Thank you, Okkotsu," you were truly grateful for his assistance and patience, you gently let go of his fingers before walking over to the bed, taking a seat with a wince. "I'll just have to unpack everything tomorrow," you didn't even have the energy to change clothes.

Yuta's eyes snapped to your figure, "Well... you can't sleep like that," he pointed out, you were still in the uniform, "Just change into something comfy," he got a little quieter, you then motioned to one of the suitcases. "I think my clothes are in one of these," you hopped off the bed and squatted down in front of it. "Don't hurt yourself," he reminded you.

He got down to his knees next to you, helping you unzip it your bag. "Here, let me help you," you couldn't help but let your eyes wander his face. Why was he so... nice? It was almost flattering how he would naturally go to help you, you thought he would leave right after he dropped you off. You almost wanted to cup his face to express your gratitude.

"Okkotsu," you gently rummaged through your clothes as to not mess up the order you organized. "Thank you, you've made me feel comfortable here," you felt your face heat up, hoping that he wasn't weirded out by you.

"You're welcome... I just want to make sure you're safe," his response really warmed your heart.

You picked out your clothes and you tried to push yourself off the ground but Yuta had already swooped in, his arm linked around yours to help you up. "You know, you're probably the nicest guy I've ever met," you wobbled towards your bed, his expression now shifting to one of confusion.

"I am?" He nervously laughed, although you really meant it. "I mean yeah, you know... I wasn't really allowed to be around other men for a long time," you started off, taking a seat once more. "I guess my parents thought it was too dangerous. I didn't really know how to control my technique for a while," you placed your pajamas right beside you.

"Take a seat," you patted the spot next to you, watching him scramble to do as you told him to and hear you out. He was tense at first, keeping a distance from you and having his hands in his lap. "So they brought a lot of people to try and teach me, but the fear was still there," your eyes flickered down, slightly glossing over the ring that hung onto his necklace.

It made you wonder about his curse.

"In the jujutsu world, sometimes it's common for people to marry off their children, hoping to become one of the big three," this got Yuta's attentions, quickly glancing over to see if there was a ring on your finger. It was his initial instinct to do so, but he did feel relieved to see there wasn't one. "There was this man, offering a marriage proposal. But I declined! I'm still too young, I wanted to experience life outside of my own family," you fell onto your side, now laying down.

"You know?" You were now looking at him, wanting to hear his opinion. Even though you knew he didn't actually know or understand, he was still intrigued enough to nod. "Yeah, something like that," he watched you curl up into a more comfortable position, a peaceful silence falling over the two of you.

"Okkotsu," you were looking off into the door, not exactly sure how your question would be perceived. "That ring... on your necklace," your eyes piercing through it. "Are you... married?" You were hoping that wasn't the case but his response made you feel different. "No!" You jumped at how loud his voice sounded, but it cracked at the end showcasing his embarrassment.

"It's complicated..." he muttered, earning a raised brow from you. "The girl? Does she go to school here?" You now became wary, it made your mood sour at the thought of some girl hanging around Yuta's arm. "No... I'm not married! Nor do I have a girlfriend," his fingers coming up to hide his flushed face, a few beads of sweat forming on his brow.

"My childhood friend, Rika.... She... she promised to get married when we were older, and she gave me this ring before..." he trailed off at the end, but he didn't need to finish for you to catch on. You propped yourself up with an arm, your face displaying sympathy.

Now you felt terrible.

It all came crashing down on you, "I'm so sorry Yuta," you yet again cringed at your obliviousness. "It's okay!" He reassured you, taking in the way you tenderly spoke his name. You reminded yourself to stop asking about his childhood friend and the ring, he was most likely off limits and you didn't want to awaken the angry curse.

You two continued to speak for a bit, you told him more about your upbringing as did he. You found yourself giggling and forgetting about the prior events, at least until you yawned. "It's getting late, I should go," he took notice of your exhaustion, and he slowly stood up. You were a little disappointed, but you did have to change and he did need to get up early.

"Alright, thanks again, Yuta," you were slowly getting used to addressing him by his first name, which he was quickly becoming fond of. "Have a goodnight, I'll see you tomorrow," you sent him a smile, waving him off as he reciprocated the wave- except with more of an awkward vibe to it.

Now that you were alone to your thoughts, it's like you went on autopilot as you changed and shuffled around the room to at least organize half of your belongings into their respective spots. You forced yourself to ignore the aching pain from your back.

You did stay up a bit late, cursing when you would drop stuff or cause a loud noise. Though at some point you did just end up giving up close to the end and turning off the lights, falling onto the bed and shaking off your blazer before falling asleep.

A few days passed and you didn't seem to notice people peeking their heads into your room, you were laying on your stomach, mouth slightly propped open with a trail of drool dribbling out the corner of your mouth. You were definitely too exhausted from the previous stress and injury so you took some days to heal.

"She's sleeping," Yuta's voice was soft and almost raspy-like, and Maki's voice was slightly louder, "someone needs to wake her up!" she grumbled, but she nevertheless kept her mouth shut to refrain any mean comments from

Coming out. "So who wants to?" Panda shoved his head between the two, his nose twitching as he contemplated the decisions.

"Tuna mayo," Inumaki's voice rang out and they all stood there, watching before Maki pushed through, "I'm gonna do it," everyone else stayed stuck to the door. Maki had to admit she was a little nervous, she didn't know you that much and everyone was coming up with theories on what would happen if they woke you up.

"Oi, (Y/n)," she nudged you with her staff, causing you to stir in your sleep. Maki sighed and she kept nudging you while everyone spilled inside your room. Yuta looked around, taking in how neat and at home you made yourself here. He did stop to look at a framed picture with people, he assumed it was you and your family.

You looked more exhausted in the picture, yet a smile graced your features as you wrapped your arms around (what he assumed) your siblings. He crouched down beside your face, seeing that Maki's nudging did anything but wake you up. "She's like a log!" Maki gave up, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"(Y/n)..." he mumbled your name, his fingers coming up to gingerly move the hair out of your face.

Your eyes snapped open, a soft glow emitting off. You suddenly pushed your hand in front of Yuta's face, "Gah!" You screeched, shoving yourself back from the frightening wake up call.

"What- what are you guys doing here!?" You rubbed your eyes, keeping them closed for a minute before opening them. "Ah- I'm sorry Yuta," you quickly apologized, seeing how he had fallen backwards. "It's okay," he quickly picked himself up. Maki let out a laugh, finding the situation funny, "We were checking up on you, newbie. Just making sure you were healing nicely," she brought her staff back to her side.

"Oh... yeah I'm fine. I should be able to return today actually," you sat up straighter up, stretching your arms before you kicked the covers off. "Good! I heard that blind folded idiot is going to take you to pick out a weapon. Hopefully it's a blade so I can spar with you," she ranted on about how Yuta was the only other person she could fight one on one, making you nervous by the second.

You actually weren't a very good blade wielder, you preferred to keep a distance when sparring. "Right... I'll see what I'm given," you then stood up, "Well... I need to change, so shoo!" You motioned for them to leave, the room being filled with laughs and giggles from everyone as you tried to push out Panda, who kept falling and pulling Inumaki down with him. He even pulled Yuta and Maki to create a barricade to prevent himself from being pushed out.

This was the best time you've ever had.

Actually- this was the first time you've felt pure joy. Your family never had moments like these- and you couldn't stop smiling, especially when you meet Yuta's eyes, which seemed to be filled with pure joy.

You never realized how lovely that sight truly was, and you finally understood what he meant earlier. So for the moment, you fell to the floor with them and laughed, turning your head to meet Yuta's face scrunched up.

He was so pretty when he laughed.

You couldn't stop the giddiness from within you, you just relished the feeling and looked up at the ceiling as you tried to catch your breath.

Everything else could wait for a few more minutes.

{Chapter Four|

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[kyoness]

Blue is the color of sorrow

Chapter 1 of a silent cry

(First story, don’t be mean but tips are 100% appreciated)

Since Gojo heard the news about Suguru he seemed.... Different. Sure, he did still have that annoying,cheerful presence you knew. But, When no one was looking you noticed how he would space out. His baby blue eyes glowed in sadness behind his sunglasses, unable to show any sad emotion. They laid almost limp against his pale skin. You've always been able to read people amazingly, even without your cursed technique which allows you to see how people are feeling if you look at them directly in the eyes. Pretty useless in a fight.

The reason you were watching him from afar was because you've been trying to muster up the courage to talk to him. You guys weren't friends, you two never interacted other than some small talk here and there before everything happened.  You only knew Suguru. But now? You couldn't say anything to gojo, I mean what would you say? He's already heard "I'm sorry" or "I understand" no though, nobody understood him. You saw that look of loneliness in his sorrowed eyes. Honestly, neither could you, but for some reason a part of you wanted to try. Why?

it was probably because growing up, you've always served people, you tired to understand, to listen, to see. It's also because You admired him, everyone did, After all he was the strongest. And yea, you admired the strongest but the way Satoru Gojo held himself high and tried to be okay, Or the way he cared for his students. If his students and him didn't have such opposite facial features you would mistake them for siblings for the way Gojo treated them. When you would stop by to drop off some papers, the annoyed glances his students gave him made you giggle. even so if you just looked a little closer at their eyes, you knew they cared for him too.

he'll get through it, he's strong. You don't need to try to console him, he'll just brush you off like he's done to everyone else. After all, you two weren't close anyways, why would he?

Oh. My. God. It got worse, so much worse. Not only was Suguru dead, your friend. Gojo had to kill him. You wouldn't even be able to tell Gojo killed his best friend from how cheerful he was being. It was all fake tho, you knew even with the bandages that now covered his eyes. Again, you were still good at reading people without your technique. It wasn't untill when you two ran into eachother in the hallway, his bandages teared down from his face exposing his eyes. That upsetting light blue that dwelled in his eyes reconstructed into a dull, numb, grayish blue.

"My bad!" He cheered as he picked up his bandages along with your papers. He wrapped his almost spotless bandages around his head, giving you an over exaggerated thumbs up and walking away.

Say something! Ask him if he's okay! Try to see him, understand him!

"Gojo!" You shout almost desperate, trying not to cringe at yourself.

"hm?" He smirked as he turned around to look at you, tilting his head to his side.

"I um.. are- why do you use those bandages now?"  You faltered. You didn't mean to ask him that, why can't you just say it?

Were you afraid of him rejecting you trying to help? That he would find you annoying, not wanting you to help him? Yea you admired him, but not to this extent to be this crazed about it. Why were you so troubled about satoru gojo? A man you've never had a true conversation with.

He pauses, you can feel his stare through the wrap he wears. "Oh!" "It's easier for me to control my technique when I cover my eyes" he brightly remarked, bringing his finger to his covered eyes pointing at them excessively.

You smile plainly at him with a nod, not even trying to seem genuine.

"Okay Gojo" you upsettingly state, slowly turning away from him and walking away.