#we’ll see we’ll see i already have a couple of churches in mind already

[panb1mbo]

i want to buy an abandoned church and turn it into my house so baaaaaaad

[marblehazel]

Within Reach

Part One: Joel

Joel Miller x f!reader

"I ain’t sayin’ go fall in love with the first warm body you see," Tommy exhaled, serious yet gentle. "but… Jesus, man. You’re thirty. You’re way too young to leave all the things that make life, life, behind."

Joel is unraveling. Burned out, closed off, stuck in a rut he can’t name. Years of silence, isolation, and unmet longing have left something hollow behind his ribs. Until one night, behind the glass of a velvet-lined booth, he meets someone who sees through the walls he’s forgotten he built.

Tags: Explicit MDNI, no outbreak (yet), single dad joel miller, age gap, reader is a sex worker and performer at a peep show, voyeurism (sort of), mutual masturbation, porn with feelings, just two lonely people fated to meet each other

Word count: 3.6k

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts and occupying my mind for months now and the story is basically done, i just thought i’d divide it into several parts so it’d be easier to read. if you’re confused, this story is set in 1997 (compliant to the tv show). and yes, it was ‘paris, texas’ that made me write this!

The house was quiet for once.

Joel had made pork chops and Tommy brought beer he’d stashed in the back of his fridge for weeks, cheap stuff with watery fizz, but it did the job. The plates were pushed back now, a few bones left scattered on them like some kind of post-war carnage, and the TV in the background played a rerun of a game neither of them were really watching.

The living room still looked lived-in by a small hurricane. Scuffed sneakers by the door, deflated mini soccer ball wedged under the coffee table, school bag slumped half-zipped near the stairs, and a tangle of mismatched hair ties on the arm of the couch like Sarah had shed them mid-sprint. Joel made a mental note to scold her for not putting her things away when she got back, though he already knew he wouldn’t. She was eight, growing fast, already bruising her shins in the backyard and outrunning boys at recess. Tonight, though, she was two blocks over having a sleepover, probably doing cartwheels in her pajamas and eating too much sugar, which was the only reason Tommy had dropped by for a rare boys’ dinner. Like old times. Sort of.

“So, work’s still ass,” Tommy said, reaching for a can of beer.

Joel gave a tired grunt. “You’re just now figuring that out?”

“Nah, just hoping it’d gotten less ass. You know, like mildly tolerable ass.”

Joel huffed through his nose and tipped his beer toward his mouth. The drywall gig had been steady, at least. Paid on time.

“Paxton wants us to pick up another contract down in Bastrop,” Joel added, getting up to toss the empty can before reaching into the highest shelf in the kitchen cabinet for a bottle of whiskey he had been saving. “Big one. New church or some shit.”

Tommy perked up. “That’s a haul. They payin’ gas?”

“Doubt it. We’ll find out Monday.”

They lapsed into silence again, the way only two people who’ve known each other since birth can. Not awkward, not tense, just… settled. Joel grabbed two glasses and poured himself a generous amount, pushing the other glass to Tommy as he sat back down.

Tommy shifted, picking meat from between his teeth. “So, I been seein’ someone.”

Joel looked up. “Yeah?”

Tommy nodded. “Couple weeks now. She’s cool. Works over at that diner off Congress. Cute as hell, too.”

Joel smirked faintly. “You always go for waitresses.”

“They’re friendly, alright? And they put up with my shit.”

Joel let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head, and took a sip of his drink. It burned good.

“So… you gettin’ any?”

Joel blinked. “What?”

Tommy raised his brows innocently, repeating himself, “Gettin’ pussy?”

Joel smashed his glass down on the table, the sudden crack of it against the battered wood loud enough to jolt the room, startling Tommy mid-sip and making the loose silverware jump.

“Don’t say shit like that, Tommy, for fuck’s sake,” Joel snapped, gesturing vaguely to Sarah’s usual chair at the table as if she was there. Truth was, the question made his skin crawl more than the idea of her overhearing it.

“Just sayin’, man,” Tommy threw both hands in the air, genuine remorse painted on his face.

Joel didn’t say anything, and Tommy should’ve known better than to keep poking. But he thought of the time when the three of them went to eat at a diner on their way home from the zoo. Sarah was 5, restless and curious and Joel handled her like a pro, and both their waitress and a young customer stared at Joel like they were enchanted. Joel was uninterested—leaving the napkin with the girl’s number written on it on the table, and Tommy was butthurt because he could’ve let him keep it. Once a client kept baking Joel different varieties of pastries while wearing more and more revealing dresses each time and Joel didn’t even look her in the eyes. A recently widowed neighbor, pretty and tiny and sweet, went out with Joel once because Tommy forced him to and Joel avoided her after that like the plague. Upon being asked, he said he was too busy, although his face clearly said he was not ready.

Tommy knew that Joel had a hard time withdrawing himself from giving his all to ensure Sarah (or rather, himself) that she was tended for even if her mother wasn’t there for her. He learned and played both lines and roles, exhausted himself because he never wanted to let Sarah feel like she was missing something. And Tommy convinced his brother at every chance that he got that he succeeded; that Sarah grew up happy, that he was the greatest father she could have, even if Joel never believed it. He behaved like his own fulfillment equals Sarah’s unhappiness, like if he felt happy with reason other than Sarah meant he didn’t care about her anymore, refusing to change that belief despite Tommy lecturing him that that was not the same formula at all.

It wasn’t like it was doing him good either—anybody who had known Joel for a while could tell that Joel grew more reserved each day, if not for and about Sarah. He was happiest with Sarah, that much was true, but parenthood wasn’t always sunshines and rainbows, and Joel Miller was exactly the type to believe that if he shared that with anybody else that meant he had failed to do his job. So there he was, just swallowing and keeping every bitter part to himself like he could never run out of space for it, like he would never implode or shut down eventually.

While Tommy could understand the thing with not being ready to link or commit to someone romantically if he went through what Joel had gone through, he hoped that at least Joel would let himself be a little loose. Have fun every once in a while.

Tommy would never bring this up to Joel, but it was rather difficult not to notice how Joel’s eyes would subtly sweep the adult magazines rack at gas stations, him being his co-worker and brother. Once he even found a crumpled rental receipt for tapes in his glove compartment with numbers for titles that were very obviously codes for porn. While this comforted him a little to know that his brother was at least still a human with desires, it was not like Joel couldn’t get that specific need replenished properly if he wanted to.

Joel was never much of a flirt—that was more of Tommy’s specialty—but with his face and build and slightly mysterious demeanor, Tommy doubted one night stands with strangers he would never see again would be that difficult for him, since he seemed to dislike the idea of establishing personal connections for now. After all, women loved mysteries. But if even that was too much of a work for him…

Tommy said quickly, like if he said it fast enough, Joel would not perceive it as an insult or a probing needle to his infected wound, “You know, I’d happily babysit Sarah if you want to go to, like, a strip club, or something.”

Joel just stared at him like he was insane.

“Or no,” Tommy cleared his throat.

Joel took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his head. “Not my thing. Too loud, too bright, too— seizure-inducing, too…” he looks to the ceiling, trying to find the word. “…much contact.”

The last few words were uttered so quietly Tommy wouldn’t have been able to decipher it if he hadn’t known Joel for twenty-four years. He tried to swallow but his mouth was dry. Finally, he nodded. “I get that.”

“Just a suggestion, you know,” he continued after an awkward silence. “If you’re not ready for the dating scene.”

“Yeah, well, thanks,” Joel shrugged, uninterested. Like wanking your shit every three to four weeks to some filthy rented tape was the most pathetic thing that could ever happen to a single father with trust and commitment issues.

Maybe it was.

He poured himself more whiskey and passed the bottle to Tommy.

Tommy took the bottle, poured an inch of glistening caramel colored liquid into his glass, and leaned back in the chair, watching Joel with a concerned look that he tried really hard to conceal.

“You ever think maybe that’s the problem?” he asked, swirling the drink around. “You been locked up tighter than a drum for what—five years now? Six?”

Joel scoffed. “Seven.”

“Seven,” Tommy echoed with a low whistle. “The Vatican called, Joel, they want you in office.”

Joel didn’t laugh. He just stared at the condensation on his glass, jaw ticking, fingers curling a little tighter around it. The younger one noticed and felt a little bad.

“I ain’t sayin’ go fall in love with the first warm body you see,” Tommy exhaled, serious yet gentle. “but… Jesus, man. You’re thirty. You’re way too young to… to leave all the things that make life, life, behind.”

“Sarah—“

“Sarah is the light of your life, no doubt about that,” Tommy cut him. “But you get what I mean.

“And you’re not alone, Joel. I’m here for you. For Sarah. Besides…” he looked up at his brother. “I think she’d want her dad to be his happiest, too.”

Joel didn’t answer that.

.

Joel pushed open the grimy glass door, the little bell above it giving a half-hearted jingle.

The place smelled like carpet cleaner and something vaguely plastic—old tapes, maybe, or maybe just the way sin clung to fluorescent lighting. He walked past the wall of action movies and low-budget horrors, straight through the half-curtained doorway at the back labeled ‘Adults Only’.

He slid the tapes onto the counter with a quiet thunk. The clerk, early twenties, long hair tied back in a greasy ponytail, looked up from his magazine with half-lidded eyes.

“Back already, man?” the clerk said, cracking a lazy grin as he scanned the barcodes. “Burned through these in a weekend?”

Joel didn’t answer. Just raised an eyebrow, tired and unamused.

The clerk chuckled. “No shame, brother. I got a new batch in if you want something fresh. Couple imports, too—real weird shit.”

Joel shifted his weight, hands in his jacket pockets. “Nah. Not lookin’ for that kind of thing.”

The clerk nodded, brows knitted in a more sympathetic way rather than confused or judging, like he truly understood Joel. “I can see that. Sometimes, man, when these feel not enough, I just go to a booth and see it recreated in person. Change of scenery.”

Joel frowned. “What?”

“A peep show, man. Booth. You sit, pay—“

“I know what a booth is,” Joel cut him. “There’s one around?”

“Oh yeah,” he perked up, holding up both hands, “Lotta regulars. Old-timers like it. It’s quiet, but also personalized, y’know.”

Joel’s jaw ticked slightly at ‘old-timers’, but he didn’t say anything. Upon believing that the strange older man in front of him looked intrigued, the clerk scribbled something on a receipt and handed it to him.

“It’s kinda hidden. Ask for the red curtain in the back. Tell ’em you’re new.”

Joel looked down at the address, then back up at the kid.

“Not your thing, cool,” the clerk shrugged. “Just figured, you know… if.”

Joel didn’t say yes. Didn’t say no either. Just shoved it into the pocket of his jeans and walked out the door after saying a quiet thank you.

.

When Joel finally got to his car, he shut the door harder than necessary. The engine coughed once before settling into its familiar low grumble, and he pulled out onto the road with the kind of focus that only came when he was trying not to think too hard.

But he thought about it anyway.

The booth. The curtain. The glass.

He had never been in one, although he heard enough, if not plenty of stories of people who had been in. Even then, he told himself it was stupid. Pathetic, even. Like stepping into some sad, sticky box with a roll of quarters and no self-respect. He wasn’t that desperate then, not that desperate now.

Was he?

The traffic light ahead turned red. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

He thought of Sarah then—her backpack still on the stairs, her sneakers left out by the door. He thought of her mom too, wherever the hell she’d ended up, and how long it had been since anything about his life had felt even remotely like his.

He didn’t drive to the address. He went home, took a hot shower, drank whiskey he didn’t really want. Fell asleep in front of the TV with the volume too low to hear and too loud to ignore.

The next day he’d reach in for his keys and feel the soft edge of the paper, crumpled like a gum wrapper, hesitate, then shove it right back in like it had teeth.

.

If there was anything a third-grader loved more than going to bed late, it was going to bed late with friends.

Sarah brought the idea of hosting a sleepover at their house a few times, and each time Joel said yes, but the mothers of her friends insisted that handling five to six girls might be too much for a single father, which hurt his feelings a little bit but was probably done out of consideration and understanding.

After driving Sarah to the Rowlands’, Joel stopped at the bar he’d been going to since before Sarah could walk. It was dim, always smelled like grease and old wood, and nobody asked questions, which made it just right.

The week had been dragging. Work was slow, odd jobs with long hours, and Joel found himself snapping more than usual. Not at Sarah, never at her, but the traffic, the electrician, the carpeting guy, the goddamn radio. A nice drink and some time alone to clear his head was needed. Imminent.

Joel slid onto a stool at the far end, nodding at the bartender—Gene, a man built like a thumb, most likely his age but already balding.

“Whiskey?” Gene asked.

Joel nodded. “Neat.”

“Haven’t seen you much lately.” Gene stated with raised brows as he poured the drink, his tone not pushing for an explanation, but Joel shrugged.

“Busy.” 

Gene slid the glass towards him and wiped down the counter. “You look it.”

Joel didn’t respond. He sipped his drink, letting the burn settle in his chest.

The bar was quieter than usual, or maybe Joel was just more aware of it tonight. The jukebox in the corner hummed some forgotten country song, and the glass in his hand was half-empty and sweating. He hadn’t meant to drink this slow, but he wasn’t in a rush to go home either.

He sat there a little longer, chewing the inside of his cheek and staring through the back bar mirror, hoping it would show him something else other than his own reflection.

When he finally decided to leave, grabbing some cash for Gene, and then his keys, his fingers met the asymmetrical shape of the crumpled paper again.

The thought slipped in quiet, unwelcomed—like smoke under a door. He could go. Just once. Just to see.

Something in his chest gave tonight. Soft, splintering, and before he could change his mind, he was on his feet.

Outside, the summer air was thick and close. He reached into his pockets, fished the paper out and read the thing written on it, brain easily generating the route as he climbed into the driver’s seat.

If it was any other time, he would think he was out of his mind. But he didn’t look at the clock, didn’t think too hard. Just drove.

.

The place wasn’t far. Hidden behind a pawn shop and a boarded-up diner, nestled between a laundromat and a tailor that hadn’t changed its sign since the ’80s. There was no blinking neon, no loud music—just a faded red awning and a door with dark glass and a peeling sticker that read: ‘BOOTHS IN BACK.’

Joel sat in his car for a minute, engine off, fingers drumming the wheel.

He could still leave. Nobody knew he was here.

Then again, nobody really knew much of anything these days.

He got out.

The air inside was cool and smelled faintly of cleaning fluid and incense, like someone tried too hard to pretend it wasn’t what it was. The front desk was empty. A hallway stretched beyond it, lined with doors. One curtain at the very back stood out—red velvet, just like the clerk had said.

A small buzz of static and a flickering light led him forward. No voices. No music. Just the low hum of a machine working somewhere behind the walls.

Joel swallowed, pushed his hand through his hair, and walked toward the curtain.

The carpet was worn, muffling his steps. White walls, fake wood trim, a flickering bulb in the corner. It wasn’t filthy, exactly—but it had that sticky feel of something cleaned often for a reason.

He hadn’t taken more than a few steps down the hallway when a man came out from behind the curtain.

Late 40s, maybe 50. Balding, with a crumpled face and a stained polo shirt clinging to the sweat on his back. He didn’t look Joel in the eye. Just kept his head down, tugging at his zipper like he wanted to be back in his car as fast as humanly possible.

Joel stood still, watched him disappear through the front door.

He should’ve left right then. Walked out and never looked back.

But he didn’t.

A door near the end of the hall cracked open just a little. Someone must’ve thought they shut it all the way. Joel saw a sliver of light, a flash of movement inside—a young woman, lounging with one leg pulled up into the arm of a plastic chair, eating chips out of a bag. Another one sat on a makeup stool, touching up her eyeliner in the reflection of a cracked mirror. She had glitter on her cheekbones and a lazy, practiced calm in the way she moved, like she could do this job with her eyes closed.

Neither of them looked sad. Or scared. Or broken.

They just looked... tired. Like anyone else on a long shift.

Joel turned away, guilt coiling low in his gut like he’d seen something he wasn’t supposed to.

He stared at the red curtain.

It was heavier up close. He could hear something faint—maybe music, maybe just the soft mechanical whirr of the booth operating.

He didn’t move yet. Just stood there, hands in his pockets, heart kicking a little harder against his ribs. He told himself he could still leave. That this didn’t have to mean anything.

But the curtain didn’t blink. It didn’t look away. And it didn’t stop him when he finally reached out and pulled it aside.

The curtain fell shut behind him with a soft thump, sealing him into yet another hallway, space much narrower than the last. On his left and right more curtains were lined, only this time they were covering individual booths, like a world of fitting rooms.

Joel walked down the hallway, and each filled booth revealed nothing but faint noises of men grunting, or breathing real hard, or talking but he couldn’t make out the words, or the familiar noise of a fist hugging a dick. He furrowed, but upon meeting a booth that was obviously unoccupied, he stepped inside.

The booth was narrow, just wide enough for a padded bench and a small panel of controls beside it. The walls were lined with dark velvety material—brown, maybe, or some shade that used to be red—and thin acoustic foam that had started to peel at the corners. There was a faint hum in the air, electrical, low and constant, like the sound a fridge makes in the dead of night.

He took a step forward.

Directly ahead of him was the glass.

Opaque.

Frosted from the inside, like the kind in a confessional or hospital door. He could see movement behind it—shadows, hints of color—but nothing clear. Not yet.

Below the glass was a small ledge, meant for leaning or resting your elbows, and beside it a coin slot built into the wall, with a flickering lamp display that read:

INSERT $1.00 TO BEGIN.

Joel stared at the slot, and it should’ve been enough; he’d seen what the booths looked like with his own eyes, a story he could tell to someone—Tommy, maybe—but the thought embarrassed him. He grabbed his wallet instead, simply because he didn’t realize he had the option to walk out at that point, and maybe he was at least a little bit curious of what would happen. He grabbed some singles out of it, all creased and slightly damp. He fed one into the machine. The light blinked, then turned green. Somewhere behind the glass, a soft mechanical click echoed.

The frosted pane began to clear.

Futuristic, Joel thought, mesmerized, as from what he had heard, at least, these peep shows used sliding doors or curtains. It slid upward slowly, the fog melting away to reveal—

Nothing.

An empty stage.

A small circular platform with a silver stool in the middle. Red velvet curtains drawn behind it, the same kind as the one outside. Soft amber lighting bathed the floor in a kind of lazy warmth. Aside from that, nothing. No decoration whatsoever.

Joel stood there stiffly, unsure if he should sit or wait or leave. His hands stayed in his jacket pockets. The bench looked clean, but he didn’t trust it. Not yet.

He wasn’t even sure what he was doing here.

But then, as if the room was waiting for him to settle, the curtain behind the stage stirred.

And someone stepped out.

To be continued

[beemochi-art]

Fandom hot take?

Oh I’ve got a couple

1) Not a big fan of cygate. It just feels kind of weird.

2) I’ve ranted about this before but The treatment of Nightshade is unacceptable. And I’m not talking about the standard homophones, no one cares about what they think, haters gonna hate and all that. No, what I’m more concerned about how they are treated amongst the fandom. For some basket case reason we’ll have these people crying from the rooftops about protecting trans kids but when an individual comes along who represents trans kids, oop! Time to make porn! I never understood that, what makes people see a non binary kid and suddenly it’s and excuse to sexualize. Like if it’s a pass. Why! It usually Just Nightshade. It’s honestly made me uncomfortable to post them. I’ve drawn a bunch of Nightshade stuff, a bunch of goofy comics that probably won’t see the light of day. I’ve already had some idiot on here try to share their perversion to a completely innocent comic. It makes me so angry, if anything would make me gtfo off this page it’s that.

3) There are a lot of problems with Oplita fans. I’m a fan of the ship, I LOVE the ship. But I think the way most people ship them it also takes away a lot from elita. It seems like her existence is just to compliment Optimus. Many Oplita fans can’t describe Elita without saying mommy, girl boss or pegging. Maybe not that last one but still. I enjoy seeing Elita just on her own sometimes, skybound, earthspark and tf one some examples (idw as well but I don’t like her too much, she kinda eh. Honestly I’m not a big fan of angry boss lady but to each their own.) I think when people approach this ship they should try to ask themselves about her hopes, fears and motivations. If all you can describe her as “mother is mothering” I don’t think that’s good. I like mom Elita! I really do, but the thing you’ve got to remember about moms is that they were a person before they had kids. Elita is such a cool and interesting character and shouldn’t be treated as just Optimus girl boss accessory.

4) I’m of a clear enough mind to recognize that JazzProwl fans are insane and that’s ok. Cause Prowl and Jazz don’t really have any meaningful interaction in most continuings, except in tfa. But if we were all sane we’d ship tfa prowl and jazz. Not everyone will like the ship on the basis of they look good together and that’s fine. That kinda of why Forte-verse is just kind of silly. It ain’t that deep.

5) Tf one Megatron was wrong. His feels were valid all the way until he dropped Optimus. I think the villain worshiped is a bit unsettling, don’t get me wrong, I LOVE Megatron. But I think only focusing on him and his crash out takes away from the message Optimus gives. Optimus was incompetent and a bad friend but that didn’t warrant death. I think a lot of times Orion was just so shocked by what his friend was saying that he struggled to say the right things D16 needed to hear. Orion was soo close to getting through to Dee, but then he, as Dee’s best friend compared him to Sentinel. That was a major trigger for Dee.

On another note, I think it’s interesting the reactions to Sentinel’s betrayal. I noticed Megatron uses a lot of language that is related to religion, “no more false prophets.” “Have faith in Sentinel Prime.” this was his everything. For Orion it may not have ever been that deep. For Dee his faith, body and sanity all rise of what he believes in, if he could serve the primes by being a slave it was all worth it. Unfortunately Sentinel is just like those mega church pastors.

6) I think the existence of femmas are cool and important. I think gender dynamics and social structure can have a part to play in Transformers even if it’s an uncomfortable subject, but they’re existence shouldn’t be a we are all the same gimmick, if you look to our real world the dynamic between the two sex’s and the social structures are different and sometimes not equal. I’m not saying that’s how it’s meant to be but I think it’s a topic that can be explored without shame. And as much as I think that, femmas in series also outline the nature of the writers as well even if it’s negative, the fan project Galvatrons Revenge being a good example.

7) I was looking at the story boards of the first story for Tf one. I think those were fun and all but I prefer the product that we got. A lot of people are saying that we were robbed but I don’t think that’s the case. That Megatron was evil, and his actions of shooting Orion didn’t feel as heart reaching as it does in the og. Tf One Megatron was emotional and vulnerable, I think he connected with the audience much better, his raw emotions is what makes a good megatron. And the storyboards just didn’t have that. It wasn’t nearly as emotionally impactful, I’m shock people said they would have preferred that over the Original. I don’t think I would have liked it nearly as much if so.

Not to say that they’re weren’t very sweet lines in the ere that I liked very much. I liked hearing about Dee’s motivations and dreams. And how he had a home with Orion. I liked how Dee looked to Elita and Bee when Orion was making him choose. There are parts that I thought were very sweet. And if the movie was that I still would have liked it just not as much.

Ok I’m done

I hope some of this made sense. Some things annoy me more than others lol.

[planetpissed]

“I’m gonna look fuckin’ zazz-

“AIE !”

“ Pukey feeling...Owwwh.. There’s that pukey feeling… ”

“Ah. Careful. Wet floor. Can someone put a wet floor sign down? Uh. A couple, if one can? Soon. As ah. Possible? ASAP? A.S.A.P. As soon as possible...Thank you.”

>>>

“Alright. Everything looks good! You are currently in water burned with Dethwater ’s isolated whale calls. You’d normally be safe to float around in there, but if the aquatic music volume is increased for these studies- in order to help your consciousness hone in-the water will become aerated. That’s why we have that head rest support there, formed to set your cranium in a safe spot, and to prevent you from being sunk to the bottom of the tank! How does the water feel?”

“Uhhh...It feels like... water .”

“Hooray! We’re closing the door. If you need to get out, simply push the latch-panel until you hear a click. Once the door is unlocked, you can pull it open. Charles will be connected to the setup out here, just like you in there. We’ll make sure… he’s already asleep . Bitter Night-Terrors, Mr. Explosion..!”

Tsshhh

“...Erlen, did we kill him?”

Ktch

“Hoh hoh, Dr. Meyer! I was going to ask you that-”

“Did I beat you to it-”

“Yes-“

“Hoh- did I-”

“Absolutely so-”

“My goodness!”

“Goodness indeed!”

“I can’t believe I-”

>>>

“Let’s do this…Queuing our recorded prophet tracks,”

“Overlaying it with Dethwater: Remastered, ReHydrated Edition..

“ Syncing Frequencies..

>>>

<< How’s this? Is that you? Can you hear me?>>

<< Nathan! It is you. Good.>>

Charles?

<<Yes, Nathan. I’m here. Edgar hooked me up. We’re for the time being, ah. Dream Linking. I’m not good at this stuff, but I thought you’d be comfortable talking to me about what you saw… You can hear me?>>

Yeah, but…You’re a crab, again.

<<What? What do you mean, ‘again ’? Huh. It appears I am a crab. This is weird.>>

You have claws. Can you even pinch me?

AGH!

<< Woah! This is... odd! I uh. Don’t think I’ve ever experienced something like this. Are all of your visions similar?>>

I think I made the Prophet really upset, that’s why she’s not here, now... most times, I’m swimming with her . 

<< Ah, I doubt you made her upset. The world is ending. That’s a lot on everyone’s schedule. I’m glad she’s not here, if I’m being honest. Finances? That’s a language I know well. Whale? Leave that for Jomfru. <<I’m here so you can articulate  your mind, and not have to worry about finding the words in a, well, corporeal state. <<What happened at the concert? Do you remember anything? >>

Well…

A lot happened. Murderface went crazy, headbutted a fan’s face into paste. We’d normally think that was brutal, right? But we couldn’t move when he did it. There was this weird energy about him. 

It threw me back to when I was a kid, fishing with my old man. Sometimes things would get quiet and feel off . Then we’d spot something lurking around for food, mostly alligators.

You can’t provoke them, you know? They’ll see you as a curious snack if you try.

Not saying that Murderface saw us all as snacks, but the way he looked at you... he was looking for where you were weak, which spot he should swing at first to knock you on your ass... he wanted to hunt us for sport, and that fan was the warm-up.

It wasn’t him - it was-

<< Salacia ?>>

How did you know?

<<I’m the High Priest of the Church of the Black Klok? I know these things, just uh. A fun fact. Magnus really threw you all off of our first Half-Man encounter with his revengeance charades, didn’t he? Damn son of a bitch, Salacia must have been pleased knowing that jackass narcissist would distract us all from the Falconback Project... << Ahem, pardon me. The prophecy told of a traitor within Dethklok. Salacia would have to persuade one of you, but I didn’t know he’d take the form of an infection. Do you know how Will caught it?>>

...Sometime before we got to the rooftop of the parking structure Toki and Abigail were at. We got chased by junkies, then the revengencers. That weird metal-masked guy could have gotten too close to him before Ishnifus stepped in. All I remember is his arm had dried blood on it when we were taking Toki and Abigail off of the crosses.

<< Hm .>>

We were at The Depths of Humanity, he got seperated briefly by this.. ass-kisser, but I doubt that was of any significance to the cut. He looked like your average douchebag.

<< I uh. I wouldn’t brush it off, but I agree, the priority is a little skeptical, drunk fan versus a whole pack of deranged former ones driven to kill you all. Did Will say anything to you when he attacked? He was acting crazy, I know .>>

He was acting rabid . Saying he wasn’t going to take anymore orders, he started hurting people, I wrestled with him, then we both got hit by this zap of lightning-

<< Which was from the Doomstar. What did you experience when you were shocked ?>>

I can’t even begin to explain. 

<< Can you try, for me? >>  

... Ugh...

<<PREV - NEXT>>

[nickgerlich]

It's A Date

There are many consumer choices that are far more important than the mundane ones we make daily or weekly. You know. Things like buying a house, a vehicle, choosing which university to attend…these are significant decisions with lasting implications.

But perhaps the biggest choice we make—and it is a consumer choice even if you disagree with me here—is our choice of life partner. In a society without strict cultural rules requiring family or group arrangements of couples, we are free to roam. The challenge, though, is that there are just so many possibilities.

And you thought we had a lot of bread choices.

What are your criteria when you are looking to date? Oh, and before we continue, when you are young, this is also the mating game, not just the dating game. It is only when you are much older and suddenly find yourself “on the market again” that the mating part, at least as it pertains to procreating, vanishes.Is it as basic as getting along well? Shared activities? Intellect? Humor? Physical attractiveness? Religion? And, dare I say it, political preference?

With the Presidential election less than three weeks away, several dating apps have added features to help you sort through potential candidates based on their political beliefs. Talk about wearing your sentiments on your sleeve. But then again, it’s getting hard to find people on some social media sites, especially Facebook, where you have to guess their party affiliation. They let it be known with their memes, their comments, their temporary profile pics.

I get it, though. For some people, it would be a complete and utter deal breaker to find out a prospect is leaning the other way. If it would be hard to have a first date conversation, imagine how hard it might be living with this person for the rest of your life. Yikes.

It’s almost like being a single-issue voter. You have your ONE thing, and that determines where your vote goes. I like to think that I am far more open-minded than that, knowing that my vote is a complicated matter, and where a candidate stands on some things may offset how they stand on others. The same works with the dating game.

When we discuss Attitude Theory, we’ll see this quite clearly. It’s like saying, “Well, she’s a Democrat (or a Republican), but her father’s rich and man is she hot.” What’s your tolerance for a little ambiguity?

There are dozens of dating sites that already pre-sort people at the gate. FarmersOnly and FarmersMatch are clearly quite rural in scope. The Right Stuff is for conservatives. SilverSingles is for seniors. That’s all fine if you want to narrow your search field. You have to cut through the clutter somehow. In the case of senior singles, you could move to The Villages in central Florida, a retirement community of more than 151,000, and you can bet there are many widows, widowers, divorcees, and always-singles living there. Have at it.

Religion has also been a big factor for people, because if one or both partners claim a high level of adherence to their faith, it could be problematic if those adherences are in opposite directions (like a Jew and a Catholic), or with only one (like an atheist and a Southern Baptist). I have seen way too many husbands dragged to church against their will.

Even geography can play a role. If you are northern, do you automatically want to partner with another northerner? Or are you cool with a little southern fried drawl in your marriage? Diet can also play a role. What if you are vegan or vegetarian? It is possible to co-exist, but it take a commitment to work together, not to mention cooking the meat separately.

Then there’s the other side of the coin, which is not knowing what you haven’t experienced. If you reflexively apply a bunch of filters—“I want a conservative woman who is blonde, not more than 5’6”, Southern Baptist, and likes rodeo”—you might just have a hard time finding anyone. You will never know what you missed.

And then let’s not forget that just because you date and then marry, there is no guarantee that it will last. I had occasion to visit with a friend couple earlier this week, both of whom have previous partners. “We think of our first one as the ‘practice’ one,” she said.

One last thing: What if a person changes during their life? Well, I certainly hope so. I have evolved considerably throughout my 65 years, doing things I would once never have even considered as thought, much less actually done. Critics of political candidates like to call that “flip-flopping.” No, it’s about evolving and being open to more knowledge, more information, all of which helps you make better decisions. I am a very different person from when I graduated university.

In fact, I remember when I was a freshman at that conservative Christian school in Indiana. This was 1977, and they had software—probably written in FORTRAN IV—that could be used for computer dating. We had to answer a bunch of questions on a bubble form, which was then fed into the computer. It crunched the responses and spit out three possible matches. Now, being at a Christian school, it was kind of assumed the religious aspect was more or less agreed upon, but anything else was fair game.

Let me tell you, my three choices were terrible. I have no idea whatever happened to those girls, and I really don’t care. I probably could have done better drawing names out of a fish bowl.

I’ll just say I don’t envy you younguns or even olduns in the market. Yes, it can be exciting and very fulfilling, but dang it’s tough these days. Well, unless you apply all the filters early on. Still, I think it would be a lot more fun just going shopping for bread.

Dr “Dave’s Killer Bread For The Win” Gerlich

Audio Blog

[suckitsurveys]

What do you usually order from Subway/Togo��s/another sandwich place? I usually order from Jimmy Johns and I’ll either get a Totally Tuna or a Turkey Tom.

Have you ever talked about your period with a guy? Were they okay with it, or grossed out? I have before, never in great detail though, except for with Mark. He’s okay with it.

Have you ever been to small/church/bible group/study (forced to or wanted to)? No.

In-N-Out, ever been there? If not, what’s a good burger place around your town? I’ve been there once, in SLC. There are a ton of good burger places near me in Chicago.

How many people do you know with the name Ashley/Ashlee? I can think of two.

Have you ever been to an asian (any type) market? If so, what is the closest one to you? Yeah, there are a ton in Chicago.

What would you do if the person you have feelings for showed up at your door? I’m at work so I’d be like, “what are you doing here?” lol.

What did your last text message say? I don’t want to type the whole thing but it was a response from Ellen after I asked her how she was feeling last night, which reminds me I need to reply.

How many people have texted you today? Did you reply to all of them? I messaged Margo earlier this morning and she just “reacted” to it, and I’m about to reply to Ellen.

When was the last time you drank something with alcohol? My birthday a couple weeks ago.

Have you ever slept with a member of the opposite sex without having sex? Yeah, I sleep with Mark every night and we don’t always have sex.

Will you talk to the person you like tonight? Yes.

How would you feel if your significant other had tattoos? I wouldn’t mind at all. Do you actually eat breakfast lunch and dinner everyday? Yeah, but my breakfasts are usually on the smaller side, just to get something in my stomach.

Is there something else you should be doing? Working.

Was your last text message from someone of the opposite sex? No.

If you could have a free plane ticket to anywhere, where would you choose to go? New York City on November 2nd.

What’s the approximate total cost of the clothes you’re wearing? I don’t remember.

Where was the last place on your body that you felt physical pain? My neck/shoulder is killing me today.

Has someone of the opposite sex made you smile recently? Yeah.

Can your significant other/crush sing? Not well lol.

What do you want/need right now? I want a guaranteed ticket to the SNL show on Nov 2nd.

How much does the last person you texted really know about you? She knows a lot I’d say.

Who was the last person you apologized to? What did you apologize for? I don’t recall.

What are the initials of the person you have feelings for? MAW.

Did you straighten your hair today? No, it’s already straight.

Is it okay to like someone else, if you already have a boyfriend/girlfriend? Depends on the boundaries of your relationship.

Would you spend the night in a haunted house? Sure.

Look in a mirror. Are you 100% happy with what you see? Why/why not? No.

Will tomorrow be better than today? Guess we’ll see.

What are you listening to right now? The sound of my coworker typing.

Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? Mark. Do you still whip out the Nintendo on random occasions? We have a Wii we play with every once in a while.

Can you honestly tell the difference between DiGiorno and delivery pizza? I mean, if someone made one and put in in front of my face and said it was from a pizza place I hadn’t heard of, I’d probably just believe them and eat it, but if they said it was from a pizza place I’ve had before, I could probably tell.

[flowers-that-sing]

CRAZY dream bro. i was steve harrington and i was on like this school campus with some of my irl friends for some reason, like stitch, but also robin buckley and eddie munson. there was this like—basically zombie virus going around. for some reason some of them were a lot more intelligent at least at the beginning. like trying to trick us so we’d be easier prey.

they declared the emergency during school, and the teachers were so hopeless, they straight up just told us to pray. they gave us this book that mostly had prayers in it BUT it also had symbols and chants and stuff that was meant to ward off danger, or keep doors locked, or bond people in protection, stuff like that. so i used that a lot.

there was one teacher who wanted to protect us, she had us all loaded into a school bus, she tried to get us away from school and brought us to the airport but the airport was swarming. i dont know what happened to her. i hope she made it out.

i also had The Bat with nails in it to fight off the zombie guys. a lot of the dream was finding hiding places and running but a couple parts stood out. like we were all hiding in an actually pretty hidden, safe place for once. but then this guy, fully human, finds us and wants it for himself. i try to fight him with the bat but he way overpowers me and i’m already sitting and he’s standing so it’s a bad angle. but now he’s mad and just wants to kill us all. so i make a deal that if he lets us go, i’ll give him a handjob and for some reason he was really interested. my friends were like. concerned about this. but i just wanted to protect them by any means possible. so we’re all leaving and me and the guy are about to go off into the bathroom, but i see a zombie in the bathroom, and guy gets attacked, so we all start running.

at some point we stumbled upon this like. church congregation. they were all praying. for some reason there weren’t any zombies there yet but there were too many people so we kept moving.

we started to figure out the origins of the zombies and traced it back to this one experimental pregnancy where this woman gave birth to a full term baby after only a month.

it went on like this for a while, but in the end, eddie and i got split up and i tried to find him and told the rest of the group to just stay safe and hide, and in the process i got bitten. i was tired and i didn’t wanna hurt anyone so i got into a bed in some random bedroom and decided to just go to sleep.

eddie found me and he had been bitten as well. we were both crying. he sat on the edge of the bed and we kissed one more time and i told him that we should just eat each other, before anyone else gets to it, and it’ll be our last moment of love. he agrees but at some point i fall asleep and he leaves. i wake up and some random other zombie is there and kills me fully instead.

but then— then i wake up, in control, as a zombie but able to control myself. so i find my friends and tell them and they’re obviously wary at first but they warm up. i start crying because i miss eddie but then i find him!!! also just like me! he cant talk as well because his throat got damaged and hes always drooling and a little limp but hes not attacking anyone and his mind is there. i tell him how much i love him and missed him and were all cool. we decide that since we’re stronger now and have no concerns about being zombified, we’ll be the protectors of the group.

and then i got RUDELY woken up

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

Hunting Roses - Chapter 4

AN: This is a yandere Zemo fic. That means that it will have dark content. I do not endorse these relationships and behaviour in real life. This chapter contains mentions of death, tears, pain, divorce, grief, manipulation, fear, panic, and funerals. Also, please let me know if you like the new mood board!

Steve Rogers who was also known as Captain America was not having a good day.  To begin with, General Ross, a man who operated on fear and not respect had introduced the Sokovian Accords to the Avengers.  In doing so, Ross had ensured that each one of the Avengers thoroughly understood that an overwhelming majority of the governments around the world supported the Accords and what would happen to anyone who opposed the Accords in any way, shape, or fashion.

Steve wasn’t blind.  He’d seen the way that Ross zeroed in on Wanda and heard how he kept repeating and emphasising the complete title of the Accords.  He was proud of the way that you and Rhodey had stood up for her.

Steve’s mind was whirring when Ross announced that you had immunity and the other Avengers didn’t.  He had just realised that the singular offer of manipulation was part of a bigger, hidden plan when his phone vibrated.

The message that lit up his screen only contained two words.  But those words were enough to cause another crack in his heart.  Steve’s gaze became unfocused and all he could see were the words, “She’s gone.”

His body trembled as he announced that he had to leave.  Steve couldn’t bring himself to turn around to look at any of his team because he feared that they would see the tears pooling in his eyes and the pain in his heart.

Fifteen minutes later, Steve found himself carrying Peggy’s coffin with five other people.  He had tuned out the whole service and his gaze had become blurry as he stared unblinkingly at Peggy’s coffin.  While there were certainly people in the church that knew of his dual identity, he was sure that none of them would judge him for his grief.

The end of the service came too quickly and not fast enough for Steve and he once again found himself guiding Peggy to her final resting place.  Due to the large crowd, it was easy for him to slip away and return to the now empty church.

That was where Natasha found him.  Natasha had just finished explaining that Tony, Rhodey, and Vision had already signed the Accords.  When Steve asked about Wanda, Natasha replied that Wanda was under house arrest and Tony’s protection.

Steve’s throat felt dry as he gathered his courage to ask Natasha if she had signed the Accords too.  He was afraid that her answer would mean that he would lose another friend.

Steve felt his heart constrict as Natasha confirmed that she had signed the Accords.  He blew out his breath in a disappointed exhale and bent his head to look at the ground instead of Natasha.  Steve couldn’t even find it in himself to reproach Natasha when her phone rang in the church and she answered it.

His head shot up when he heard her tone change.

“Say that again,” the spy commanded, lowering the hand that held her phone to waist level and pressing the speaker button.

“I’d be more than happy to arrange a hearing appointment for you, Widow, although I didn’t think that I’d need to do that for a couple more decades.”

“Tony.” Natasha snapped.

“Not in the mood for jokes I see.” Tony replied smoothly.

“What gave it away?” Natasha asked sarcastically.

“The general tone of your voice, the fact that….”

“Tony!” Steve bit out impatiently.

“Steve.  I’m sorry to hear about Peggy,” Tony stated sombrely, “and I hate to be the bearer of more unwelcome news but (Name) is nowhere to be found and a woman claiming to be the ex-wife of Baron Helmut Zemo has arrived at the compound along with Zemo’s father and son.  They are insistently demanding to talk to as many of us as they can.”

Steve’s feelings about Natasha signing the Accords were pushed to the side at Tony’s words and he and Natasha shared concerned looks.

“We’ll be there in ten minutes,” Natasha promised.

Steve couldn’t think of a time when he had been more grateful for Natasha’s driving ability even if she was a slightly reckless driver on normal occasions.  Neither of them spoke as she sped through the streets arriving at the compound in exactly ten minutes.

Steve’s curiosity and apprehension built with every step.  He and Natasha walked in silence through the compound and Steve pretended not to notice her side glances every few minutes.  While he walked, he wondered exactly what the Zemo family was doing at the compound.  He also worried about the fact that you had disappeared from the compound.

Over your time with the Avengers, Steve had been able to piece together bits and pieces of your history.  His mind kept returning to the fact that years ago, you and some others had fought against a bill called the Mutant Registration Act.  The reminder of the Act was enough to have Steve fighting a shudder.  He’d done some research on that act and he had been appalled at the fact that the Act had even been allowed to enter the Congress chambers.

Steve had also been horrified at the amount of support that the Act had amassed.  It seemed that the America he had fought for in the forties was slowly slipping away and being replaced with an unfamiliar, unpredictable, and harsher America. 

Three people stood up from their chairs as Steve and Natasha entered the conference room.  Tony, Rhodey, Clint, Wanda and Sam all turned to look at them.  Vision was the only one who didn’t.  His head was cocked to the side and he was gazing at Wanda with concern.  While Natasha sought Clint’s gaze for reassurance, Steve looked at Wanda.  Her eyes were red and the skin around them was red too and Steve felt sympathy and protectiveness surge through him.  He also noticed that Vision was standing close to her.

When Wanda spoke, her voice was firm, “Baron Heinrich Zemo, Heike Párduc, and Carl Zemo, may I introduce Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff?”

Steve frowned slightly as he tried to figure out why Wanda had introduced the three visitors the way she had.  The closest he could get to an answer was that Wanda wanted to introduce them as humans not by their job titles.  He melted when he saw Carl wave to him and he returned the gesture.

“And your other friend?  Phantasm?” Heinrich demanded forcefully, “Where is she?  We came to speak with her!”

Steve’s mind registered the with in Heinrich’s sentence and for some reason, that four letter word had his muscles tensing.  Steve estimated that Heinrich was in his mid-sixties but the man still had a formidable air around him.  Heike seemed to have a similar fire in her eyes.  With her styled, curly blonde hair and light blue eyes, Steve could be forgiven for thinking that Heike was a woman he had encountered in the forties.

Heike’s son on the other hand had innocent brown eyes underneath furrowed eyebrows and neatly parted, short brown hair.  It was easy to tell that Heinrich and Carl were related just by looking at them and Steve’s heart sank because if he could spot the similarities, chances are that other people could as well and Carl could be used as leverage against his family simply because his grandfather was royalty.

Heike turned to her son, who had sat down again while looking at Steve with an awed expression.

“Show them what you can do,” Heike urged quietly and Carl frowned deeply, closing his eyes.  When Carl reopened them, Steve was shocked to see his shield sitting on the table between them. 

Without thinking about it, Steve reached forwards to touch his shield but his hand passed through it as if it wasn’t there.

“Carl’s talent appeared the night we left Sokovia.” The Baron rumbled, his voice losing some of its forcefulness as Heike smiled at Carl proudly and the illusion of Steve’s shield vanished when Carl grinned happily up at his mother.

“We think it has something to do with his father’s innate talent of persuading people to see his point of view,” the Baron continued.  Steve understood the underlying meaning of the Baron’s words.  It seemed that the Baron’s son had no qualms about using words or force to encourage his audience to see his point of view.

“Though that isn’t the only reason why we came,” Heike revealed, “it is a small part of it.  We all wanted to thank Phantasm for her actions in Sokovia and we wanted to warn her.”

“Warn her?” Clint echoed, “Why?”

Wanda and Heike looked at each other and then Heike asked Wanda and Vision to take Carl on a tour of the compound.  Heike and Heinrich watched them leave and then Heike turned back to face Steve.  When she spoke, Steve noticed that her voice had risen slightly and he could detect notes of urgency and panic in it though her tone remained level.

“You must understand that Helmut and I fell out of love a long time ago.  We chose to stay together for Carl and because we didn’t want to give the Sokovian media any opportunity to report gossip.  I’m sure you understand that concept.”

The present Avengers all made small noises of agreement.

Heike cleared her throat, “When we landed in America and had not heard from Helmut, I began to dream of a different life.  In Sokovia, not only was he a former Colonel of the Sokovian Armed Forces but he was a commander of EKO Scorpion, an elite strike force.  As a result of his time with those organisations, I began to witness a darker side of the man.  There was a ruthlessness to him and so, I quietly made inquires about divorcing him.  Heinrich found out about my endeavours and to my surprise, he supported me.”

“People change over time.”  Heinrich asserted, “Sometimes it is not for the better.” 

Tony nodded, “I’ve had that happen to me once or twice with people I’ve known for a long time.”

Heike nodded, “Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on your point of view, I was able to recover the divorce papers that I had signed before we fled Sokovia.  When Helmut arrived unexpectedly on our doorstep, he inquired about your friend and there was a longing hidden in his inquires and I thought to myself, “Why would he hide his intrigue?”  All of the answers I considered left a bitter taste in my mouth and so, I took the opportunity and presented Helmut with the divorce papers that I signed.  As soon as he left, I felt as if I had played right into his hands and so, we made plans to come here to warn Phantasm.  It seems we have arrived too late and she is gone.”

“I have a few ideas where she might have gone.”  Natasha spoke up reassuringly and some of the tension left Heike’s body although Steve saw that Heinrich was still unconvinced, “We’ll find her and we’ll tell her what you told us.”

“I will also admit that I am worried about Carl,” Heike continued and Heinrich nodded, “while I know that Helmut would be incredibly protective and if the occasion asked for it, downright wrathful if any of his enemies tried to harm Carl in any manner, Carl is a young boy who adores his father.  He knows he has a talent and if he thought he could help his father by using this talent…” Heike trailed off.  Steve could see the shock on all the Avengers’ faces particularly Natasha, Rhodey and Tony’s faces at the implication that an innocent child could be manipulated into helping his father simply because they were related.

Heinrich confirmed the hidden message in Heike’s final speech for the Avengers, “It would be best if Helmut never found out about his son’s talent but we do not live in an ideal world.  We must be practical.  Do you know of a place where my grandson can learn to use his talent safely and without fear?” 

“There’s a place called Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters,” Natasha explained “and it would be the first place (Name) would go to feel safe again.  On the outside, it appears that the school is academically focused but that is a façade.  Its true purpose is to provide a safe environment for children and adults like Carl.”

“Can you escort him there?” Heike pleaded, “I fear that my ex-husband has eyes and ears everywhere and that it will be sooner rather than later that he finds out about Carl’s gift.”

Natasha raised her chin, “I will escort him there and do my absolute best to protect him,” she vowed.

[stellocchia]

Since people often seem to think that Tommy’s and Dream’s dynamic is something that was established in season 2 and sorta came out of nowhere before that, I thought I’d finally take a look at the evolution of it throughout season 1. 

From here on out, of course, I’ll be talking exclusively about the characters. It is also to be kept in mind that season 1 was a LOT less scripted, so there may be streams and moments that I leave out as they don’t seem to be too impactful or they lack canonicity. So sadly the whole stream where they build Church Prime that has Dream comparing himself to God for 2 hours has to go...

 This will undoubtedly be an EXTREMELY long one, so be prepared for it...

Let’s go step by step in chronological order, shall we? 

THE DISCS WAR PREQUEL

By now a lot of people know that the Disc Saga wasn’t actually started by Tommy, but here’s a refresher anyway: Ponk started it off by pranking Sapnap’s base, in retaliation Sapnap burned down Ponk’s lemon tree. With this Ponk allied himself with Alyssa and the two started a war against Sapnap. 

Later Tommy joins the server. Tommy obtains the first netherite cheestplate in the server and it’s promptly stolen by Sapnap. Later again Sapnap uses the netherite chestplate to blackmail Tommy into joining his fight against Ponk and Alyssa. Tommy just refuses ang gets his armour back, but he considers Sapnap’s offer because of: Alyssa setting him on fire and Tubbo (who was mostly neutral but leaning towards Ponk and Alyssa) had made him loose his stuff the day before.

Dream arrived then to stop the fighting, but Sapnap and Tommy decided to kill him instead (non-canonically of course). Sapnap killed him twice and Tommy once. In retaliation Dream stole Cat and Mellohi. Sapnap stole one of the disks back and then they retrived the other one and Tommy hid them near his base.

So what does this tell us? Tommy most definitely wasn’t the one who instigated the conflict, nor the one who escalated it. YET, he was the only one Dream focused on. And remember, while a proper coherent storyline didn’t exist back then we know that the wars were at least somewhat scripted (thanks to cc!Dream telling us so on the Eboys Podcast). They also kept their characters characterization pretty consistent throughtout, which means we had the first hints of their dynamic all the way back here.

ESCALATION OF THE DISC WAR

(From Tommy’s main channel it’s: “Dream is a Psychopath.”)

Everything could have been over then, but Dream was still pissed he lost, so he removed all the floring of Tommy’s base (escavating all the dirt from in front of it) in order to find the disks and take them back. At this point, after once again stealing the disks, Dream asked Tommy for his netherite chestplate (again, only one on the server at the time) in exchange for them. Also, an actual conversation they had: 

Tommy: “Dream! Was this you that destroyed my entire base and re-named the sign to ‘BitchBoy enterprise?!” 

Dream: “I didn’t touch the sign. I didn’t destroy your base either it’s just the f- the dirt” (note: as I said before, all the dirt was removed, but, hey, he didn’t touch the chickens and the carrot farm!)

Also:

Tommy:“Dream, you removed the ENTIRE floor of my base” 

Dream: “It’s YOUR fault. It’s your fault...” 

T: “How is it MY fault?!” 

D: “‘Cause you hid the disks!” 

T: “Yeah, because they’re MY disks!” 

D: “You hid the disks and I’ve taken them back, okay?”

If this doesn’t sound like the beginning of the Obsession Arc, I don’t know what does! 

But, in all seriousness, even back then for c!Dream the key of everything in the server was Tommy, though at the time he was just “the reason for conflict”. Still it’s pretty obvious that the disk conflict could have ended before it started if Dream didn’t decide to escalate things (though, as it’s obvious by the conversation, he blames his own actions on Tommy as we see him do in later seasons).

Anyone wondering about the gravity of Tommy killing Dream once non-canonically before this: In this video Dream kills both Tommy and Tubbo twice in the first 10 minutes. Yeah, he’s not any better. Btw, this is the video with the fight they then mimicked in the finale and they actually loose this one as well. 

Tommy: “What is your obsession with this disks? Why don’t you just give them back?” 

Dream: “No because I can get something in return for them, I don’t care about the disks”

Oh what simpler times when blackmail was just simple old blackmail to obtain material possessions... 

Btw, this one ended with basically a double scam where Dream gave them fake disks and they logged off with both the fake disks and the netherite chestplate.

(Main channel: “mission: kill dream (FINALE)”)

Tubbo: “Please do not tell me you have sentimental attachment to the bullshit disks...”

Early theme of attachment back in season 1. Either way Tommy has been portrayed as an extremely sentimental character that develops attachments scarily fast from all the way back in season 1. C!Dream’s idea of him he expresses in the finale isn’t born from nothing.

Anyway, Tubbo and Tommy use the composter glitch to find Dream’s base to try and get back the disks, but they aren’t there, so they end up going for the original exchange, this time with no scamming included. Tommy get’s his disks back, while Dream gets Tommy’s netherite chestplate. Just to point out: at this point Dream was the one completely at fault. Tommy was dragged into a war he wasn’t involved in and yet was the sole one to be punished for it and Dream couldn’t just accept a defeat so heavily griefed Tommy’s base and stole back HIS posssession. Dream is the main instigator here, yet he blames it ENTIRELY on Tommy from the start. Literally their dynamic started off pretty f*cked. 

Still, since Tommy didn’t want to keep risking loosing stuff to Dream for the disks he decided to make an ender chest for himself. He gets some blaze powder and ender pearls from Punz in exchange from an apple (that was too sweet not to include) and then, when it comes to getting the obsidian is when Dream realizes what he’s been doing. You’d think he’d be fine with it considering they already had a “fair” exchange (aka Dream’s blackmailing had been succesful), but nope. He hunts down both Tommy and Tubbo, but fails in killing them and they manage to put the disks away safely.

L’MANBURG BEGINNING

As we know Wilbur founded L’Manburg and Dream did not like that, so he declared war on them. Here’s the speach: 

“Tommy! (pause) And Wilbur and the rest of L’ManChildburg, we are at war. There is no mercy. We’ve burnt down Tubbo’s house. We’ve planted tnt cannons around your land. We have cobblestone walled the outside and we shot ONE warning shot inside your walls ans an explosion and we have NO MERCY! NO MERCY FOR YOU! Do you understand? We will come! We’ll burn down your houses, we will kill anything inside your walls and we’ll take back the land that is rightfully ours if you do not surrender. I want to see WHITE FLAGS! WHITE FLAGS OUTSIDE YOUR BASE BY TOMORROW, AT DAWN, OR YOU’RE DEAD!”

So, a couple of things to unpack here:

1) Dream first and foremost singles out Tommy who, if you all remember, was NOT the leader of L’Manburg. He was barely Wilbur’s right hand man and had only been confirmed as such recently at that point. He is not the leader and YET, in how the speach is enunciated it’s obvious that it’s directed at him specifically.

2) For anyone wondering if Dream could be considered a villain back in season one: so far the people from L’Manburg had done nothing but frolic in the flowers. They were a group of pacifists that refused to use any armour and Dream’s reaction to them is to kill them all and burn anything they built. And he’s doing all this because he thinks he’s entitled to all of the land in the smp and even something as small as og L’Manburg had no right to exist free of his rule.

(Always from the main channel: “Doomsday.”)

Two important things for their relationship happen here: Dream deciding, out of everyone, to kill Tommy specifically in the final control room and the duel (or more so the result of the duel). 

It is something back then no-one wondered about, but why would Dream, the leader of the Greater Dream SMP, go after the second in command instead of the leader? Possibly for the same reason he singled out Tommy in the declaration of war? Possible foreshadowing of their future dynamic?

Also, may I mention that Dream was the one to add the condition that, on top of not getting independence for L’Manburg, Tommy had to give up one of the disks (mellohi) if he lost? And Dream being the one to mention it is the reason why Tommy knew they were valuable to him in the first place. It’s the reason why Tommy proposed the deal of his disks for L’Manburg independence (which worked, which tells us a whole lot about when Dream’s obsession withe the disks started. Man was willing to take an L to have THAT sort of control over Tommy already in season one)

POGTOPIA

Jump to when Tommy and Wilbur get exiled. A lot happens here, but, for the function of this analysis, I’ll only be talking about what pertains to Dream’s and Tommy’s relationship. 

So, at the beginning of exile Dream offers his support for Pogtopia leaving a chest specifically for Tommy (once again, not Wilbur, the leader, but Tommy. He also gives Tommy a lot more stuff then Techno who was arguably a much more valuable asset). In the chest there was: a full set of netherite armour, 3 stacks of ender pearls, an enchanment table, a netherite sword, Dream’s crossbow (”Definitely not penis”), a stack of golde apples, 1 enchanted golden apple, 1 stack of diamonds, 17 obsidian, 3 potions of strenght, a stack of steak and a book written by Dream called “Tyrant” which, again, is addressed soley to Tommy. (In the book he basically says that he doesn’t like Schlatt and that he’s only going to help from the shadows because he can’t directly involve himself). 

Now, for the standards of the time, that was A LOT of stuff. Dream clearly wasn’t half-assing his support to Tommy there (I’d say to “Pogtopia” but, again, it was all specifically for Tommy). He keeps up his help when he intervenes in favour of Tommy in the Battle of the Lake (from the vods channel: “TommyInnit, Dream & Technoblade TEAM UP (dream smp war)”). Before that however he also helps Tommy to lava cast (or attempt to) the Eiffel Tower (built for Karl’s and Sapnap’s honeymoon). For this battle Dream also gives Mars (Sapnap’s and George’s fish) to Tommy (together with quite a few more ender pearls). Their relationship up until this point seems to have improved quite a bit with Tommy immediately trusting Dream again (he seems to be always inclined to trust Dream much in the same way he’s always inclined to trust Wilbur) and Dream seemingly being supportive (although that was actually because he needed both Manburg and Pogtopia to disappear as we discovered later on). 

Fast forward again we have the moment when their relationship sours again: Dream provides Wilbur with the tnt. With this momement we have the confirmation that Dream truly was only siding with them for his own self-interest (as he always considered L’Manburg as his own propriety, independence or not, and he wasn’t happy with Schlatt wanting to expand and being morw ambitious then Wilbur ever was) and Tommy also looses part of his trust in him, though not completely. 

You see, their relationship is a bit more complex then that. In season 1 even when Tommy and Dream were enemies there was never really much bad blood between them. And when I say this I mean that Dream in particular didn’t let there be much bad blood between them, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

After Quackity joins Pogtopia they try to make a plan to get L’Manburg back that would not include blowing it up. After that fails (from the vods channel: “Dream BETRAYS TommyInnit during the Dream SMP Meeting...”) and Fundy joins Pogtopia as well Dream announces that Schlatt gave him something “more valuable then frienship” and he’s now siding with him and leaves the Pogtopians announcing that there is a traitor among them. 

Wilbur: “Dream just wants to be on the side of the rebellion and now that we are the dominant force technically... isn’t that right Dream? Would you say you just want to be on the other side? You just want to be on the other team?” 

Dream: “No I- I don’t think so...” 

Tommy: “Dream’s the good guy Wilbur” 

D: “I think I’d say that my interest is in myself”

So, despite everything, Up to this point Tommy still trusted Dream. Fully trusted him. But now, soon after this conversation, Dream explicitely tells them that he never considered them “friends” they were “convenient allies” for him (a mindset that he carries on later on and brings to an extreme). 

Now you’d think that was the breaking point right? I mean the whole vod was also titled “Dream betrays Tommy” and Dream just left them telling Tommy specifically that no, they were not friends (though Tommy didn’t agree on that point, much like with Techno later on). But that’s not were Dream leaves it. 

First he allows Tommy back in his old base to get some stuff once they’re alone (despite having just said in front of Wilbur, Quackity and Fundy that he’d stab him if he tried going back)

Tommy: “I just don’t understand, why would you team with Schlatt?”

Dream: “Tommy... I’m a business man, you know what that’s like”

T: “No I don’t”

D: “Well you do, of course you do”

God since exile that damn soft condescending tone he does hits me so different... anyway. As you see as soon as he’s alone with Tommy he starts being more friendly, less formal. He also takes on a more menacing persona (I really don’t know how he manages to do both at the same time... no wait, exile. He acts more like how he did in exile). Anyway the switch is actually pretty interesting to see. 

Tommy: “Why would you not team with us?”

Dream: “Tommy... I’ve never been on your team. I have never been on your team, ever!” 

T: “Well I’ve been in your team...”

D: “Wel I- I’m not saying you have. I’ve never been on your team. I’ve never been on anyone’s team” 

And with this we are done with their important interactions for this stream, but wait! They have a war in a few days, right? Well, Dream makes sure to spend that time with Tommy. Like, a lot of it. 

All of “Dream bullies TommyInnit for having low viewers.” Is Dream following Tommy ominously around while mildly inconveniencing and somewhat helping when they’re supposed to be enemies (it’s literally one of my favourite vods, it’s great! It was also the one vod that sparked the “Dream is obsessed with Tommy” theory in me. Yes I’ve had it from all the way back then, but I also was right, so...). 

Tommy: “Okay, so you know how we’re going to war in 7 days time?”

Dream: “Yes”

T: “like, ME and YOU are going to war...”

D: “Yes”

T: “Yes, yeah so I need to- I- it feels very strange to be- I need to prepare for THAT”

D: “Well, what do you need?”

Dream then proceeds to half-help him half-stop him from getting gold in the nether. The whole vod is like this. It definitely has a very weird atmosphere as it’s clear that both of them are fully aware of their respective roles in their upcoming war, but Tommy doesn’t know what to do and Dream is clearly willingly ignoring it all. It’s pretty jarring to watch tbh (together with being a hilarious vod to watch) and it helps starting to paint the picture of Dream having the level of dependence on Tommy that we know he has now.

Then there is “TommyInnit, Dream & Sapnap's PET WAR FINALE” which is LITERALLY THE DAY BEFORE THE WAR. Here Dream, once again, decides to spend the whole time with Tommy. He helps him against Sapnap (who is Dream’s ally) and even decides to lead Tommy to Sapnap’s and Punz’s secret base where they keep their animals and starts encoraging him to kill them. Tommy, of course, refuses and the whole pet war finishes with Sapnap and Tommy releasing Mars and promising to be friends once the war was over. 

Like, honestly, if anyone in Pogtopia had known about this interactions maybe they could have suspected Tommy of being the traitor for legitimate reasons instead of misinterpreting him entirely as a person and thinking he just wanted to be president... and you’d think that, maybe, THAT was Dream’s goal, but... not really? He always made sure to spend time with Tommy when there was no-one from Pogtopia around. In all 3 of this vods he is drastically different when they’re alone and, I mean, he stopped hidining how he is with Tommy only during Doomsday (when he gave his speach on the obsidian grid to Tommy, not caring that Tubbo and Quackity were both there).

To finish it off, we know that season 1 ends with Dream fighting alongside Technoblade and nothing else of significant happens for their relationship. Still, I hope this was comprehensive enough to show that, most definitely, his obsession with Tommy and the having power over Tommy is not a new concept for Dream. It’s something that got worse with time, but it’s most definitely not something new. The main thing that changed throughout season 1 and 2 was Tommy’s perception of Dream (which went from easy trust and friendship to hatred and fear), not vice versa.

Also may I add that Dream's constantly acting friendly when they most definitely aren't is probably one of the reasons why Tommy was so predisposed to accepting Dream as his friend in exile? Just a thought...

@ladycatland

[mrpenguinpants]

Bennett: Affection HCs

I KNEW I HAD THIS ASK IN MY INBOX AND I JUST READ BENNETT’S BIRTHDAY LETTER TO YOU SO I SAID FUCK IT. I’M WRITING THIS. I MAY HAVE 2 FICS IN THE PROCESS BUT I CARE ABOUT BENNETT SO MUCH. 

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Xiao Ver: Affection HCs

Bennet: Windblume Love Letter HCs

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

 @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @sunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @nonniechan @htnicayh @genshins1mpact​ @morthecreator​ @ aanne2601 @aklxojjk​ @fulltimeventisimp​ @hanniejji​

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Bennett: Affection HCs

Bennett has so much love and affection to share but he’s also so shy and awkward in his delivery. It’s so endearing that you can’t help but but try and stifle your giggles lest he get more embarrassed. He just get’s so nervous since this is his first relationship and he knows his track record on luck isn’t super bright so he’s always fumbling. Trying to force his nerves away when he wants to hold your hand but as soon as he reaches out to lace your fingers, you’ll turn around, and Bennett throws his arm back so hard that he accidently pops his shoulder out of his socket. While you’re fretting over him he’s trying to reassure you that he’s completely fine and that this happens all the time. Which isn’t very comforting, he thinks things could have been worse. What if he accidently slips and drags you down with him or even worse, his pyro vision acts up and he has sweaty hands? He’s screaming internally at that.

Bennett totally reads romance novels to get a better understanding on what a relationship is like but his execution is a bit questionable. He tries to be suave and attempts to wrap his arm around your shoulder but he accidently slips halfway and he’s fallen into the fountain. But when he hears your barely contained chuckles as you try and help him out, he can’t help but feel a flutter in his chest that he doesn’t mind the unlucky accidents that happen to him if it makes you laugh. He’ll shake the water out of his hair and grin at you before he takes your hand in his and you both go back to the church to dry him off.

Whenever he sees you he has to take a couple minutes to calm his heart. Even when he’s out with Fischl and she’s talking in her special way, as soon as he catches sight of you, he’s sighing in adoration with the love-sick puppy eyes. That’s when Fischl knows she’s completely lost Bennett and you’re probably behind her. She sighs out a bit exasperated as she shrugs before she’s dragging him to meet up with you. No matter how red Bennett gets or what he’s yelling, Fischl has a death grip on him and grins smugly before she calls out your name to let you know someone’s got heart eyes for you.

While he’s extremely grateful to the Adventures guild and Mondstadt, having you beside him really hits deep. That you accept and love him despite the unlucky streak he has. You are so special in his eyes and the fact you choose to stay with him makes him sniffle a bit. Somedays he wakes up and can’t help but feel the rush of happiness he feels just being able to see your smiling face. He might get poked fun from his Dads but it’s completely worth it. It’s actually really wholesome when Bennett wants to introduce you to his family since they already know plenty about you because Bennett will literally not shut up about you.

The praise he receives from his dads and Katherine make him grin happily but when you praise him, he ends up growing so shy and pink. Awkwardly scratching at his cheek as he says it wasn’t that big of a deal just because he wants to hear you praise him more. He’s pretty hard on himself so your words really mean a lot to him. Likewise, Bennett is super optimistic. He’s your #1 cheerleader and it’s contagious adopting his positivity outlook on life. Whatever you’re interested in or wish to do, he’s fully on board and supportive.

He’s always coming back from his adventures with scraps and cuts that it really concerns you when Bennett shakes his pain away. He’s always had a head-first battle tactic that’s not easy to change in one day, so instead you ask Barbara to teach your some healing abilities or tips to try and help him out a bit. While you’re a bit clumsy and not as well-versed as Barbara. Bennett still hugs you with so much force as he exclaims he’s never felt so empowered before.

When Bennett feels sad, he’ll lean his shoulder against yours and close his eyes. Slowly moving down until it’s his head against your arm. He stays there before you reach over and place his head in your lap and slowly run your fingers through his hair. It’s a small and ordinary moment but it means the whole world to Bennett.

Bennett always keeps whatever you give him in a special pouch, from a small slip of paper wishing him luck to the small four leaf clover you gave him, it’s always on him whenever he sets out. He knows that despite his best wishes, you can’t spent every waking moment together and he doesn’t want to endanger you with his bad luck on more dangerous expeditions. He actually full on bawled when you said you wanted to join the "Benny's Adventure Team" and actually stuck around even after all the unfortunate incidents that happened. But whenever he’s far away from Mondstadt, away from you, he’ll take a small break and go through the small trinkets you’ve given to him with the softest smile as he handles them with care. They are his treasures after all.

It’s been a rather challenging adventure today. Bennett and you took on a commission to investigate a hilichurl camp on Starsnatch cliff only to run across an Eye of the Storm instead. While you both managed to defeat it, you both got your fair share of cuts from the anemo winds and the hard ground when you had to dive away from the orb crashing down. You’re silently thanking yourself for taking those lessons from Barbara as you’re trying to patch him up. 

“Sorry, I didn’t expect an Eye of Storm to appear instead. I guess my bad luck is spreading again,” Bennett chuckles awkwardly to himself as he winces a tiny bit at the throb of his cuts. You simply shake it off as you try and gently place the cloth back on his cheek to wipe away the small amount of blood. You’re just happy that you both managed to get away from that monster without any serious injuries. 

“Don’t say that Bennett, we defeated it didn’t we? That’s one less problem for the Adventures guild right?” you say as you smile encouragingly at him. He nods in silent agreement but his eyes rake over the cuts and on arms and knees and he can’t help feel sadden. He gently pushes your hands away from his injury's as he opens his own pouch that carries his adhesive bandages to place upon your scrapes.

“Bennett?” you question. You’re so used to the happy go lucky Bennett that this sudden quiet atmosphere looms above you as Bennett quickly returns the favour. It’s only when he takes a small moment to scan your body for anything he missed before he takes your hands in his. Rubbing small circles over your skin, whether he’s trying to comfort you or himself into speaking you’re not entirely sure. 

“There’s a dream I want to tell you about. I want to find the most valuable treasure to give back to Mondstadt and get our Adventures guild to become the biggest branch in Teyvat. That way my Dad’s can take a break and we can go adventuring all over the world. We can go visit Fischl at her home or take Razor to see the ocean!” he grins happily at you as his eyes light up in such a way that it takes you a few moments to register what he’s saying. You can feel such a rush of love pour into your system at his wholesome dream that you can’t help but clutch his hands closer to yourself. 

“I’ll stay beside you the entire time and I promise we’ll make your dream a reality. Benny's Adventure Team will be the greatest adventure team there ever was,” you lean forward and boop your nose against his, “But you need to take better care of yourself first mister.”

“Now come on. Let’s go home together Bennett,” you smile down at him as you stand up and extend your hand out to him. It takes a few moments for Bennett to act as he gazes up at you. The hand that’s been placed in front of him as support in so many of his unlucky incidents, covered in the bandages he carries around from the family he cares about, the hand that is still there after everything. Bennet knows he’s always been unlucky. That’s just the way it is. He’s always running on what drops of luck he can grab and live life to the fullest but right now. Even with the dull stings of anemo winds on his cheeks, the throb of new bruises he’s probably developing, he reaches out and takes your hand. He’s never felt luckier in his entire life.

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Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go gag on the sugar I just wrote. I may have strayed away from the affection hcs but I care about Bennett and his character stories cripples me. I had to re-write this so there are some issues but I’m tired. Either way, Happy birthday best boy 💕💕💕

[jared-19-cant-reid]

Sunday Kind of Love

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: M

Summary: You need a date to your sister’s wedding, and Spencer begrudgingly agrees to help you out. Your feelings for him become difficult to hide, and Spencer really commits to his role as your “boyfriend”.

Word Count: 5.3K

Content Warnings: Family conflict, minor angst, unprotected sex, Dom!Spencer/Sub!Reader, bondage, daddy kink, spitting, choking, breath play, exhibitionism/public sex, teensy bit of sacrilege

Author’s Note: This fic idea came to me while I was listening to “A Sunday Kind of Love” by Etta James, so I’d highly recommend listening to it if you read the fic. Gives you the ~vibe~. Anyway, this is way longer than I expected but Spencer and reader deserved the extra time! I hope u enjoy :)

~

“C’mon, just make an appearance with me!” You pleaded. “It’s just one night! How bad can it be?” I didn’t even believe the words as they came out of my mouth.

Morgan snorted at that, shaking his head as he moved to exit the bullpen. “Sorry, kid. I love you, but I am not spending my night off at your bitchy sister’s wedding.” 

You sighed, reluctantly stepping aside to allow him to leave. Beginning to lose hope, you turned to your only remaining coworker. Spencer was still sitting at his desk, busying himself with organizing drawers and repositioning folders to avoid meeting your gaze as you approached his desk.

“Spencer, please come with me tonight. I can’t deal with my sister alone, and I think I might die if I have to explain to her that the guy I told her I was bringing ghosted me last week.” As you spoke, you watched him try to think of a way to protect your feelings without going. In the year you’d worked at the BAU you’d come to see everyone on the team as family, but it was Reid you felt closest to. When he didn’t respond immediately, you put your hand on his shoulder. “Spence, I need you.” You spoke quietly, but he heard you clearly.

He looked up at you at your last words, visibly conflicted. You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, and he sighed, standing up. Knowing you had won, you threw your arms around his neck in a hug, nearly sending the two of you tumbling over in your enthusiasm. He tentatively wrapped his arms around you, returning the gesture of affection. 

His touch brought with it feelings of peace and happiness that you had come to associate with Spencer. Your smile grew impossibly wider as you thanked him a million and one times, squeezing him tightly as you felt relief spread through your body. Forcing yourself to pull away, you noticed his lips had quirked up into a small smile at your reaction.

“You know, almost twenty percent of weddings are called off. There’s still a chance it won’t even happen.” Spencer mumbled as you walked out together. You weren’t sure if he was trying to comfort you or himself. As you reached the garage, you thanked him again for agreeing to be your date. He just nodded, visibly nervous about the event.

You stopped him before he could start walking to the metro. “Let me drive you home,” you insisted, “it’ll be faster and we can talk over our game plan on the way!”

“Game plan?” He questioned, amused at your choice of words.

“Just pretend we’re going undercover on a case! We’ll get into character and everything. This can be fun if we make it fun.” Spencer seemed unconvinced, but he followed you to your car.

As you drove to his place, Spencer seemed to relax as he started to plan, happy to gain some control over the situation. You knew he hated big events, especially ones with a lot of strangers, but your deep dislike for most of your sister’s invite list meant you’d at least suffer together. Pulling up to the curb, you said a quick goodbye, telling him to be ready in an hour.

When you got home, you jumped through the shower, scrubbing off the stress of the work day to allow family-related stress to take its place. You quickly blew your hair dry, putting more effort into your hair and makeup than you usually did. As you reached your closet, you scanned your dresses for one that would match the maroon tie Spencer planned on wearing. A smile spread across your lips when you spotted it, your fingers toying with the soft fabric as you imagined Spencer’s reaction when he saw it. 

You tried to push the thought away, sighing at your own hopelessness. You’d been trying to bury your feelings for Spencer ever since you joined the BAU, but it was a losing battle. You found it impossible to ignore him, despite your efforts to remain neutral in his presence. Your heart swelled at the excitement shining in his soft hazel eyes, skipped a beat at the sight of his tongue resting between his lips in concentration, and stopped altogether at the way his hands moved and flexed when he spoke. The opportunity to spend this much one-on-one time with Spencer in what you were sure would be an incredibly flattering suit was almost worth the stress of dealing with your family. 

You slipped on the soft satin dress, admiring how it hugged your curves and flowed around your legs. The plunging v-neck was flattering, but tasteful enough to stave off disapproving looks from older guests, leaving you comfortable and confident. You stood in front of the mirror, taking in your appearance as you would a stranger’s. The face that looked back at you was friendly but tense, hands fiddling restlessly with the soft fabric of your dress. It didn’t take a profiler to see you needed to relax.

Taking a deep breath, you cleared your mind, taking a few minutes to give your mind rest and ground yourself. Opening your eyes again, your reflection looked much more peaceful, nodding as you decided you were ready to leave. As you drove to Spencer’s, you felt your heartbeat quickening, this time from excitement instead of stress. 

Knocking softly, you were surprised to hear Spencer’s footsteps already nearing you, as if he had been waiting by the door. As he stepped outside, your breath hitched. You shouldn’t be so affected by the sight of him, it’s not like he’d never worn a suit in front of you before. It was mostly the look on his face that struck you, his lips slightly parted and eyes scanning your body as he took in the sight of you. 

“So what do you think? Good enough to pass for a put-together adult who hasn’t been dreading this day for months?” You asked.

He took a second to respond. “Y-yeah, you… you definitely shouldn’t worry about it. I mean you look great- not that you don’t usually look great it’s just-”

You interrupted him for his own sake, giggling a soft “thank you, Spence. You don’t look half bad yourself.” Understatement of the century.

Soft music played through the speakers in your car, soothing your nerves as you hummed along to “A Sunday Kind of Love” quietly. You almost jumped when you heard Spencer begin to hum with you. 

“You know this song?! I didn’t know you listened to any non-classical music!” You exclaimed, unreasonably excited at your discovery.

“I’ve heard you listening to Etta James on the jet a couple times, so I checked out a couple of her songs,” Spencer said simply. You tried to pretend your heart hadn’t just exploded at the implications behind his words. You couldn’t trust your voice to mask your overflowing adoration for the man beside you, so you just smiled and began to sing along quietly.

Oh I'm hoping to discover

A certain kind of lover

Who will show me the way

Lost in the music, you were surprised for the second time that car ride by Spencer’s voice joining yours to sing the chorus. Your eyes shot to his face, but he kept his eyes forward, a small smile the only sign he’d seen your reaction. You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face as you sang with him, his attempts at melody bringing a smile to your face. The words seemed to gain meaning as your voices joined together, both looking forward but focused fully on each other.

To keep me warm when Mondays and Tuesdays grow cold

Love for all my life to have and to hold

Oh and I want a Sunday kind of love

Before you knew it, you had arrived. It was as if the bubble that had protected you from the reality of the situation had popped, leaving you exposed to the harsh world that lay waiting for you. Spencer reached out and squeezed your hand, silently reassuring you of his presence, his support, unwavering as you faced the night together.

Nodding slightly, you let go of his hand and stepped out of the car. Spencer walked beside you to the entrance of the church, close enough that you could feel his body heat. As you got closer, you groaned internally at the sight of your mother. 

A fake smile stretched across her lips, nodding at a woman whose outfit was so brightly colored you nearly had to look away from the glare. Her smile dropped for a split second when she saw you, but quickly returned with twice the artificial sweetness as before. She called out your name, voice straining with the effort it took to sound happy to see you. 

“This can’t be the boy you’ve been seeing! Much more handsome than I expected, how much did he cost you? Just kidding, of course.” Her laugh was somehow faker than her smile. You saw Spencer tense up beside you, and opened your mouth to correct her. She wouldn’t openly admit it, but you were sure your mother would be smug about the fact you and Spencer were just friends.

Before you could say anything, Spencer’s next words sent you reeling.

“Actually, I’m her boyfriend. Glad to finally meet you.” He said as politely as he could, though you could tell he disliked her already. Spencer had never had much patience for people who made jokes at others’ expense. 

You were still processing what he’d just said when his arm wrapped around you, gripping your waist. The feeling of his hands on your body was almost too much for you, and you struggled to pay attention as your mother smiled and made smalltalk with Spencer that walked the line between passive aggressiveness and outright hostility.

You finally registered what was happening when your mother made some excuse to leave, off to emotionally torture a new victim. Your head whipped to face Spencer, your mouth hanging open, confusion written on your face. 

“Why did you-” you began, interrupted by Spencer’s panicked words laced with regret.

“I’m so sorry, I know we didn’t plan on pretending to be a couple tonight, but she just seemed so smug about it and I wasn’t thinking clearly and I just-” he rushed out. Now it was your turn to cut him off.

“Spencer, thank you. I’m not mad, I promise.” You leaned into his chest, the arm still wrapped around you tightening. “I guess we’ll just have to pretend we’re dating for the rest of tonight, though.”

The two of you slowly made your way into the church, stopping a few times to chat with relatives who called out to you. Everyone was charmed by Spencer, who played the part of your boyfriend remarkably well. You found seats on the right, farthest from the aisle in an attempt to limit your interaction with other guests. Sitting down, you remembered how uncomfortable church pews were, the hours you’d spent in mass with your family all coming back to you now. 

Looking around, however, you were reminded of what had gotten you through it. The stained glass windows that surrounded you created a kaleidoscope in your field of vision, capturing your attention for long enough to forget why you had been uncomfortable in the first place. You looked back at Spencer to find him already looking at you, sending a small blush to your cheeks. 

“Did you know that stained glass was originally used in Catholic churches to tell stories from the Bible visually for the benefit of illiterate churchgoers? During the English Reformation, many stained glass windows were smashed and destroyed as part of the 1547 Injunctions against images. In fact, all images in churches were ordered to be removed. If it weren’t for that period in history, more stained glass would likely have- sorry, I’m doing it again.” Spencer’s eyes were cast down at the floor, only to shoot back up to your face when he felt your hand on his.

“I like listening to you. Why did they want to destroy all the images in churches?” You asked, leaving Spencer speechless for a second, seemingly unable to process your request for him to continue his rambling. With a small smile, he continued to explain the importance of the English Reformation to religious art as you watched him adoringly.

The ceremony started all too soon, pulling your attention to the front of the church. As you and Spencer listened to the seemingly endless stream of anecdotes about love and life that the pastor had clearly spent years reciting, your eyes started to glaze over. You pushed thoughts about marriage and family and religion out of your mind, preferring emptiness. Your mind didn’t stay blank for long, though.

Apparently Spencer had noticed your change in mood, because he brought his hand to rest on your thigh in a comforting gesture of solidarity. Unfortunately, you were unable to respond in any way, overwhelmed by the feeling of his hand flattened against the satin fabric of your dress.  His thumb beginning to rub small circles into your skin, you felt your heart rate quicken. The warmth he brought to your thigh began to spread through your body, suddenly finding the church unbearably hot. 

Spencer seemed unaffected by the room’s sudden warming, keeping his gaze locked on the happy couple. You took a shaky breath and tried to calm yourself down, reminding yourself that you were overreacting to what was likely a completely platonic display of affection. The ceremony seemed to drag on for hours, but that might have had something to do with the constant effort it took to mask the desire and panic that Spencer’s touch had ignited in you. 

You were broken from your trance of concentration by the feeling of his hand inching higher on your leg. Whipping your head around to face him, his gaze remained fixed on the pastor, pressing his lips together to hide a smirk. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt Spencer’s hand slowly make its way up your thigh, paralyzed by shock and desperation. His grip tightened as he glanced at your face, reading your reaction to his touch. Before you had a chance to respond, it was withdrawn, the world around you coming back into focus as everyone began to clap. The ceremony was over. 

When you went to stand up after the recessional, you nearly stumbled on your weak legs. Spencer stabilized you, guiding you through the pews and through the hallways with his hand on your lower back. As you followed the crowd to the banquet hall, the gears in your mind were turning slower than usual, as if they had rusted in the time you hadn’t allowed them to work through the idea of Spencer returning your feelings. Finding your seats, you and Spencer were faced with one of the greatest challenges of your night: extended conversation with your family and their similarly judgemental friends.

The overlapping chatter of so many people at once was clearly bothering Spencer, but he stuck it out for your sake. You felt a tug in your chest at the thought of the effort it must be taking for him to stay in such an uncomfortable situation. He played his part beautifully, though, responding to the borderline offensive questions directed at you politely but firmly, protecting you from their attacks. Your sister would usually have led the onslaught, but thankfully she was preoccupied yelling at the photographer for some suggestion she’d taken as a personal slight. 

When Spencer struggled to answer questions about your “relationship”, you took over. He had never been a good liar, and while you loved that about him, you knew it could blow your cover if you allowed him to continue.

In your story, the two of you still worked at the BAU, having started dating a few months after you joined. You threw in small details from your countless daydreams, centering them around real events so that the tale was completely believable. Maybe too believable, you worried, feeling Spencer’s eyes on you as you talked. Under the protection of a lie, you had finally been free to speak the truth, pouring a year’s worth of pining and affection into your words as you concocted a love story you wished was real. 

You heard a band start to play, a bluesy vocalist at the center of the ensemble. The music filled the hall as the newlyweds rose for their first dance. A small crowd gathered around the pair as they moved in synchrony, every step practiced and planned. A few songs later, many couples were swaying together, tonight’s celebration of love bringing out the romantic in most. 

You turned to Spencer, nodding your head at the band. “We should probably dance for a song or two, just for appearance’s sake.” Spencer looked uncomfortable, but nodded and followed you closer to the source of the music.

Raising your hand to his shoulder while his landed on your hip, you felt a warmth spread through you as you joined hands. Fingers intertwining, you began to move along with the slow song that had been playing, stumbling at first but moving more smoothly as time went on. You had no idea how many songs passed while the two of you swayed, apprehension and desire swirling in the air between you. It took a second for you to notice it, but as soon as you did, Spencer’s small smile told you he had as well. 

The smooth vocals of the singer sounded even more lovely on Etta James’s familiar melody, filling you with an intense emotion you couldn’t put words to.

I want a Sunday kind of love

A love to last past Saturday night

And I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight

And I want a Sunday kind of love

The feeling in your chest grew as you looked into Spencer’s eyes as the song continued, your chest threatening to burst with whatever magical dust you’d inhaled from the shared breath between your faces. Wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head on his shoulder, you were overcome with a feeling of safety and contentment as he returned your embrace. You swayed together as you began to ponder the cliches you’d always despised, begrudgingly admitting that you now understood the sentiment that nothing in the world mattered but the two of you.

As the song ended, you gathered up all the courage you had, and spoke before your mind could think through the possible negative outcomes of what you were suggesting.

“I need to tell you something,” you started. You felt his grip on you tighten, as if afraid what you would say next would take him from you, but he let you continue. “I think I love you, Spencer.”

He didn’t respond, but you felt him pull away from you. You felt cold without the contact, but it was nothing compared to the loss you felt in your chest as you realized what you’d done. He didn’t feel the same way.

You opened your mouth to apologize, to try to undo the damage you’d done, but before you could say anything he was dragging you toward a hallway. Overcome with confusion and fear of losing him, you didn’t realize where you were going until Spencer opened the door to the single-use bathroom and pulled you inside.

“Spence-” you began, the rest of whatever you had been about to say swallowed by Spencer’s lips as they moved against yours with urgency, his hands coming to cup your face gently. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, the coldness you’d felt replaced by the warmest light filling your chest.

Your hands found his hair, pulling him closer to you as you tried to eliminate any space left between your bodies. A frantic mess of hands and lips exploring any exposed skin, you stumbled backwards with the force of Spencer’s kiss, hearing the door lock as your back hit the cold wood. Your hands slipped under his suit jacket, moaning at the feeling of his firm body under your hands. He shrugged it off completely, allowing the jacket to fall on the floor, his germophobia trumped by his need to feel your warmth. 

You moaned into his mouth as his hands wandered your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. As the kiss became more heated, you noticed that he seemed to withdraw whenever he noticed his touch had gotten rougher, clearly holding back so he wouldn’t hurt you. You smiled into the kiss at the care he showed for you, but your desire to see him fully let go was too strong to allow it to continue. You weren’t sure exactly what he was willing to do, but you took your second biggest risk of the night, showing him what you wanted.

Finding his hand on your body, you laced your fingers between his, kissing him sweetly before pulling away with an innocent look on your face. Spencer stared down at you, confusion clear on his face. You brought his hand up to your mouth, kissing the back of it before moving your hand to his wrist. He watched you intently, unsure what you were doing. Staring up at him with an angelic smile, you brought his hand to your neck, his fingers curling around it instinctively.

 As he realized what you were asking of him, his eyes darkened and his grip around your neck tightened. “This is what you wanted, huh?” He spoke lowly, a small smirk forming on his lips. “So needy for me. Would’ve let me fuck you in front of all those people back there, practically shaking just from my hand on your thigh.”

You whimpered, turned on beyond belief by this new side of Spencer. His smirk widened at your reaction to his words, pressing his body against yours, his hardness pressing into you. 

“Feel that? Feel what you do to me?” He growled. “Let me show you how I deal with pretty little whores like you.” He stepped away from you, eyes hungrily raking over your body as he began to unbuckle his belt. You just stood there, watching his hands as your mind flashed back to all the times you’d imagined this happening. Somehow this was even better than your wildest imagination had been able to conjure.

“What are you waiting for? Get on your knees” He spat out. The words shot straight to your core, and without hesitation you dropped to your knees in front of him. You watched as he pulled the belt from its loops, but frowned in confusion when he didn’t discard it. He walked around behind you, grabbing each of your wrists and pulling them together. Oh. When he was sure the belt wasn’t too tight, he whispered in your ear how pretty you looked tied up for him, your whimper at the words causing him to let out a dark chuckle.

He returned to the front of you, leaning down to toy with your bottom lip. “Show me you deserve to suck my cock, princess.” He instructed, slipping his thumb into your mouth. You moaned around his finger at that, and instinctively began sucking on the digit. You hollowed your cheeks around it, running your tongue along the length of his thumb before pulling back to swirl your tongue around the tip. He must have approved of your demonstration, because he removed his thumb, pulling down the clothing restricting him in one motion. 

Your eyes widened at his size, his smirk growing when you leaned forward instinctively to take him into your mouth. When he grabbed your hair to stop you, you looked up at him in confusion. 

“Good girls ask for permission.” Your eyes fluttered shut at that, wanting nothing more than to be good for him. 

“Please, let me suck you off, I want you in my mouth,” you begged. He seemed pleased, his hand still in your hair pulling you forward. When your lips wrapped around his cock the hand on your head pushed you down roughly, making you take all of him into your mouth, the tip pressing hard against the back of your throat. You moaned through the gag, your panties likely soaked by now from your arousal at his dominance. 

As he began to fuck your throat, you wrapped your lips around him tightly, timing your breaths so you wouldn’t have to stop for air. Words of praise mixed with degradation fell from his lips as he worked your mouth on him. Tears pricked at your eyes at the feeling of him against your throat, spilling over as he continued his ruthless pace. 

When he pulled you off of him, a dark smile appeared on Spencer’s face at your disheveled state. He pulled you up so you were standing before him, hands still bound behind your back. He stepped back to admire you.

“Look at you, such a mess for me. What do you want, pretty girl?” He asked, voice still commanding but much softer now, genuinely checking in with you.

“I want you, please, need it so bad,” you practically moaned. He moved forward to meet your mouth with his, one hand coming to rest around your throat while the other gripped your hair, fully in control of your movements. He pulled your hair back, breaking the kiss as he tilted your head up to look him in the eyes. 

“Jump.” He commanded. You didn’t hesitate, wrapping your legs around him as he walked you over to the sink, setting you down on the cold porcelain. His mouth rejoined with yours the second you felt the bowl of the sink digging into you. As Spencer’s hands roamed your body, he lost patience with your dress, pulling it down so your tits spilled out of the top. You moaned as he took one nipple into his mouth, a skilled hand toying with the other. His other hand lowered to the hem of your dress, pushing it up to gain full access to you.

Spencer moaned against your chest as he felt the dampness of your panties, soaked all the way through before he had even started to pleasure you. His fingers ran up and down over the wet fabric, applying pressure over your clit that sent your eyes rolling back. You made a noise of complaint at the loss of contact when he withdrew his hand, but were quickly silenced by a hand over your mouth.

“You’ll take what I give you, slut.” Spencer gritted out, tearing your panties off with the last word. His hand came up to your entrance, teasing you as his fingers ran up and down your slit. Gathering your wetness, he moved up to your clit, rubbing circles that left you moaning uncontrollably into his hand. “Can you snap for me, baby?” He asked. You were confused, but you did anyway. “Good girl. That’s your safeword for when you can’t talk.”

Before you could read too much into the statement, he plunged a finger deep into you, causing you to arch your back into him. Your moans still muffled by his hand, he set a brutal pace, adding another finger when he felt you start to clench around him. Tightening his hand over your mouth and nose, he cut off your breath as you approached your peak, your eyes glazing over with pleasure. The high of the lack of oxygen along with the haze that came with this level of submission left you fully pliant, his to play with how he wanted.

Right as your lungs began to burn, your orgasm shook your body, and Spencer let go at that exact moment. The relief of oxygen once again flooding your lungs added on to the euphoria that overtook you, your body shaking as you came down from your high. 

You didn’t have much time to recover, as you were brought back to reality with the sensation of the tip of Spencer’s cock teasing your slit. The overstimulation shook you, but with every second your need to feel him inside of you grew stronger. Your whimpers turned into pleas, and in your desperate state you didn’t realize what you were saying until it was too late.

“What was that?” Spencer asked, withdrawing completely.

“I-I’m sorry, it was an accident, I didn’t mean to, I’ll never-” you were interrupted by an unexpected demand.

“Say it again.”

“What?”

“Say. It. Again.” Spencer gritted out, his eyes darkening with each word.

“Please fuck me, daddy.” You said shakily.

A look of satisfaction came over Spencer’s face as he slammed into you without warning, setting a rough pace. You began to chant his new title, and his hand came up to choke you, fingers pressing into your carotid arteries just beneath your jaw. He wasn’t putting any pressure on your windpipe, but your lightheadedness from the reduced blood flow made it feel harder to breathe, the feeling of being owned by the man you loved only intensifying your pleasure. 

Spencer towered over you as he continued his assault, his other hand coming up to muffle your moans by allowing you to suck on his fingers. When he withdrew them to pay attention to your body elsewhere, he was confused to see you stick out your tongue. When the wave of understanding washed over him, he couldn’t hold back his smile. Bringing his hand up to trace your cheek, he looked at you lovingly before spitting in your mouth, watching in awe as you eagerly swallowed and met him with an innocent smile that contrasted beautifully with your actions. 

As you began to feel the knot in your stomach building again, Spencer increased his pace. Bringing one of his fingers to your clit, Spencer knew you were nearing the edge, and fast. “Come for me, pretty girl.” He ordered.

You obliged, Spencer’s kiss swallowing the moans spilling from your mouth. He followed soon after, sent into ecstasy by the image and sensation of you coming apart under him. As he filled you up, you felt a bliss that you’d never experienced before, using your lips to show him how he’d affected you as he fucked you through both of your orgasms. When you eventually parted, it was quiet for a moment. 

As Spencer helped you off the sink and removed the belt from your wrists, massaging the tender skin, you began to laugh. It started out as a small giggle, but it soon turned into a full belly laugh, bringing tears to your eyes. Spencer was taken aback at first, but son couldn’t help but join you. You both laughed until your stomachs hurt, and when you could finally speak again your first words were “we just had sex in a church bathroom.” 

Holding back another bout of laughter, Spencer responded, “I have to say, this wasn’t how I imagined tonight going.” He took a step towards you, arms lacing around your waist. “I’m not complaining, though.”

You pulled him down to meet him in a kiss, your teeth clacking as neither of you could hold back your smiles. When you broke apart, Spencer’s forehead stayed pressed against yours. “I love you,” he said quietly, “I have for a long time now. I just never thought you would feel the same way.”

You couldn’t hold back the happy tears that formed in the corners of your eyes.  Wordlessly, you pulled him into a hug, your bodies coming together like two pieces of a puzzle that had finally been connected. You stayed there for a while, just feeling each other breathe. 

In a few minutes, you’d sneak out the back door of the church. In a few minutes, you’d leave the room with no need for lies to excuse your shared affection. In a few minutes, you’d have to deal with the paperwork that Hotch would inevitably require. But for these last few minutes, all you had to do was hold each other. For now, you were just two people in love, and that was enough.

[fggtwrmz]

✞ pretty little sinner ✞

Hihi!! Taz here with this accounts first ((technically second)) post! This ones a full fic so it’s v lengthy

warnings: dubcon, noncon is you squint, size kin, dirty talk, talk of breeding, oral, religious themes, degradation, dumbification, dacryphilia, talk of corruption, did i mention degradation? cus we went a lil ham on degration, very rough in general, no like seriously kuroos hella mean here

please mind the warnings and leave if your uncomfortable with any listed!!

wc: 7.6k

The whole small town that you had lived in had known you and your parents as the perfect catholic family, and why would they have any reason to not believe that? After all, you were always such a good girl. The pride and joy of your parents’ lives, you did good in school, never complained about chores, and attended church every Sunday. That’s right, you were the perfect little catholic school girl. 

That's what drew you into him. 

You looked so innocent, so pure, so breakable, he just had to have you. 

And that cute little cross necklace you wore to show your faith? He just wanted to rip it off of you. Have you worship him instead. 

When you had spoken to him you didn’t imagine what he would actually be like. He’d put up such a sweet facade. But that's all it was. 

A facade. 

“What’s someone as pretty as you doing in a place like this, Dollface?” Came out the velvety voice of the walking personification of temptation himself; Kuroo Tetsuro. 

You had heard about him through whispered rumors throughout the halls. He had an infamous reputation. But rumors were just that. Rumors.

So you humored him. 

“At….The corner store? I’m getting snacks, what does it look like?” You had to giggle. It was such a foolish question. So foolish that you didn’t know the weight that it had held. 

He had you hook, line, and sinker, you were just too innocent to realize. And he had been oh so sweet to accept your invitation to church on Sunday! Of course, you had to ask him, the house of God was as good a place to get to know someone as any. Much better than a dingy corner store anyway. 

His words were sweet and charming, even for just a small chat. There was a look on his face that made you suspect something, but the way he spoke pushed your suspicions. 

So when Sunday came and you saw him waiting for you at the door, in what appeared was his normal attire, you still gave him a big smile and waved him over to where you and your parents were. 

“Kuroo! You made it!” You wanted to embrace him in a hug, but you felt that would be a little too familiar for someone you had only met yesterday at a convenience store. “Of course I made it, I wouldn’t blow someone as cute as you off.” He spoke, caressing your cheek. 

Of course he wasn't nervous about being too familiar. 

You felt the warmth rush to your cheeks, the affection catching you off guard. 

“Sorry if I seem a bit underdressed.”  He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, though it seemed as if he didn’t care. His attire could be deemed inappropriate for a church setting. His ripped jeans, loose-fitting button-up shirt, Jordan Retros, contrasting with your pure white short sleeve blouse, frilly plaid green and black skirt, and shining black Mary Janes, and of course that shiny cross necklace that hung so prettily from your neck. 

You giggled, “No worries! I’m sure if you had shown up naked the lord wouldn’t turn you away.” 

And there you went again, going on about how the lord would love anyone, sinner or saint. He’d wondered how you would react if you knew the sins he had committed, had planned to commit. 

He wondered what filthy sins such a precious girl like you were hiding under that short little skirt of yours. 

He couldn’t wait to find out. 

You had taken your seat in the far back pews, opting to sit in between him and your parents. You’d been paying attention to your pastor, up until you felt a warm, calloused hand rest itself on your thigh. 

You looked up with a curious look, but Kuroo seemed to be more focused on the word of the holy father than you, so you relaxed at his touch. Keyword; seemed. 

And that wasn’t all he was planning to do, unfortunately for you. 

He rubbed up and down your upper thigh, occasionally squeezing the soft flesh between your skirt’s end and your thigh highs beginning, pushing your skirt just a little higher up your thighs to get more space. 

At that moment you thought you'd absolutely die if your parents looked over at the sinful act that was going on between you two, but when you looked over they were both too caught up in the pastor’s prayer to notice anything. 

His hand moved inward, causing your breath to hitch. His fingers practically brushed against your core, causing you to let out a gasp. It was loud enough for just him to hear but low enough to where your parents wouldn’t suspect anything. 

You placed a hand on his wrist, signaling it was not the time for this. He simply flashed a smirk, never looking down your way. His fingers made their way to your panties, gently rubbing against your folds, you ended up dampening the garments in the process. 

You sucked in your breath, now holding onto his wrist with a feverish grip, notifying him just how on edge you were. 

“Time for the communion! Everyone, form a line, children, teenagers, then adults.” Father announced.

You let out a breath you weren't aware you were holding in. 

Your pastor had just saved you from eternal damnation. 

You and Kuroo walked in line, behind a couple of kids and in front of a few more teens. He rubbed down your shoulders and arms, sending chills down your spine. 

You held your hands behind your back as children took their crackers which were symbolic of the flesh of Jesus, their “wine” symbolic of the blood of Christ, and scattered back to their seats. 

When it was your turn, Kuroo made sure to keep a keen eye on the way your head tilted back ever so slightly when you had opened your mouth for the cracker to be placed on your tongue. 

He wondered what other situations you would be in such an arguably compromising position. 

You ate the cracker and took the small, plastic shot glass-like cup with you back to your seat. 

“Nah,” Kuroo shook his head, declining the offer of the cracker, and took the cup, downing it and throwing it in the small trash bin next to the pastor, walking back to his seat, not looking back. 

He sat back down next to you, his hands in his pockets this time. You stared ahead, waiting for anything to happen, the tension between you two was so thick you could cut it with a knife. 

Suddenly, he leaned down to your ear, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath on your neck. “By the way, you get so fucking wet. It’d be pathetic if it weren't so adorable.” He hummed, sending heat straight to your core. 

You gasped at his words, looking up at him as he leaned back up. “Kuroo!” You whispered. “You shouldn’t curse in the house of the lord!” 

He looked down at you and chuckled slightly. 

“Oh princess, if it were just us here I’d do so much worse.” He teased, making your eyes widen. Heat rushed over your body, causing you to break eye contact with him. His gaze became too much to bear. 

Your parents and pastor had warned you of temptation before, but you had always thought it would be easy to overcome. You would have never thought that it could be something like this. His words and gentle touches felt like too much yet not enough all at the same time. 

You wanted it all to stop, but yet you wanted to beg for more. 

But you had to keep your composure, God's eyes were on you, you reminded yourself. 

But all you could feel was his eyes on. They were fixated on you. The thought alone of that insatiable look in his eye made your thighs pressed together and your throat run dry. It all made your head reel. 

And just like that, it was over. 

You had been so lost in thought that it took Kuroo shaking you to make you notice everyone getting up and gathering outside for the weekly catch-ups that turned, “just a few minutes dear, and then I swear we’ll leave,” into 30 minutes and plans to babysit Mrs. Johnson's grandsons next weekend. 

“Is it time to go?” Kuroo asked you, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“Only the adults are leaving, the teenagers and children stay for Sunday school, that’s why I’m wearing this outfit.” You whispered to him. 

He went silent until he proposed an idea that caught you way off guard. “We should go back to my place for bible study, I might be able to show you a different type of God.” 

Your eyebrows raised at the sudden invitation, you didn’t know what he meant by that, but you know it’d be rude to decline such an offer since he had come to Sunday worship despite his belief in this “other type of god”. 

Before you could answer he tapped your mother’s shoulder, catching the attention of both of your parents. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but can I speak to you for a second?” He asked politely. Your parents said their goodbyes to Sister Elise and stepped away with you and Kuroo. “Yes?” Came the voice of your mother. 

“Would it be alright if me and your sweet daughter here, a real angel if I do say so, could go back to mine so we can go over the Psalms? I would offer to do it over the phone but the lord’s word can only be understood in person.” It’s like he had the good Christian boy next door role down pact. 

Your parents looked at each other worriedly. “I don’t know, will there be a guardian to watch over you two?” Your father asked. “Yes sir, my fathers at work, but my mother will be there. I promise I’ll have her home at a reasonable time.” He promised.

Oh yeah, he has this little act down to the T, not like you could see through it though. You were so naive and thought that you could bring out the good in him with the help of good. How foolish. 

Your father looked at his watch. “It's five now, so have her home no later than eight. Understood?” “Crystal clear, thank you, sir. Shall we get going?” He asked you, a perfect and pure smile plastered on his face. 

He was too perfect, your parents already adored him. 

Too bad it was only to get in your pants. 

———

You were on his bed. His room smelled of pinewood and lavender. You drowned in the scent, loving every second of it. 

His room was nothing like yours, he had deep red walls, wooden floors, and everything looked to be either black or red, barely any other colors being seen other than the clothes in his closet, and some other things you couldn’t identify, but he shut it before you could get a good look. 

“Sorry if my room is a bit dirty, I didn’t think about cleaning up before inviting you.” He apologized, closing the curtains. 

You loved the way he spoke, it was like his words were coated with chocolate. His luscious and velvety voice made you think things, things the lord would frown upon. 

“No worries! Nobody’s perfect.” You kindly reassured him with a polite smile. 

He’d think differently, you were a goddess in his eyes. Every part of you, even everything he couldn’t see, not that he’d be in the dark for much longer. 

He chuckled, his eyes wandering down your figure, undressing you with his eyes, as you sat innocently on his bed waiting for whatever he might do. 

“So where’s your mom?” You asked innocently, catching him off guard. “What?” “You said your mom was here, where is she? I didn’t see her when we walked in.” 

He’d already forgotten. Typical. 

“Oh, she’s probably taking a nap.” He lied with ease. 

He didn’t think he'd be able to forgive himself if he was in the presence of his mother while thinking about such ungodly things. He planned to defile you, and he wanted to be the only one who even got close to experiencing you in such a state.  

“Oh well-uhm...I’ll be sure to be quiet so I don’t disturb her.” 

He held in a chuckle. There was no way that you would be quiet, no way you could be quiet when he got his way.

“So…. While I have no real interest in changing faiths, I have to ask about the god that you worship.” 

He had you right where he wanted you. 

He hovered over your frame at the edge of the bed, him standing and towering over you. He’d lifted your chin to look up at him with the tips of his fingers and said in a delightfully sinful tone, 

“Oh baby,” He leaned in close to your ear, you could feel his hot breath on your sensitive skin. “I’m the new god, and you're gonna worship me like I’m your true creator.” 

You felt yourself shrink, yes at the way he was menacingly towering over you, but at the way he describes his God—no, himself. 

“You-you’re...the god you were talking about?” You stammered, your hands on his chest, trying to make some distance between you and his dominating presence. 

Sadly to no avail. 

“Mhm, and you’re going to be a good girl and obey me, understood?” 

 "Y-yes, sir." 

"Awe look at you, using your manners without me having to tell you. Keep that up and you just might get a reward." He cooed.

You felt a familiar heat pool at the pit of you. 

What was he going to do to you? What were these sudden temptations? And most importantly why did you want more. 

This was god testing you, and you were failing miserably. 

You wanted so badly to give in to your desires. To leave behind the life of that sweet innocent angel that everyone once knew, you wanted to give yourself wholly to your new one and only savior. 

You were really doing this. 

You were abandoning the only faith you’d ever known for some stranger. 

For all you know he could be a demon from hell himself, here to stray you away from the path the lord had originally sent you to. No, he couldn’t be a demon. He was so sweet when the two of you had first met, and he was so polite when addressing your parents. 

You felt like Eve, being tempted with such a delicious specimen by the devil himself. So when he pushed his lips against yours harshly, like Eve, you gave in. 

His lips molded perfectly against yours. Your tongues were dancing in an elegant waltz that could only be described as heavenly. His lips tasted so sweet on yours. If this was the forbidden fruit you would happily taste it again and again. 

His hands roamed your backside, hiking your skirt up so he could get a feel of your cotton panties. Your breathing sped, feeling him caress your clad ass. You’d always been told to never let anyone touch you like this unless you’re married, but I guess your god was the only exception. 

That’s right. Kuroo was god now, and you had to let him do whatever you want.

Suddenly, he roughly pulled your skirt off, throwing it behind him. You whimpered, afraid he might’ve ripped your skirt. 

Feeling his rough hands run up your sides and into your shirt, he stopped kissing you to look down, causing you to let out a whine, missing the feeling of his lips on yours. 

“Awe baby, don’t look so sad, I’ll get your mouth back to work real soon.” He whispered, trying to unbutton your shirt. Trying. 

You could tell he was getting frustrated at how the buttons wouldn’t come undone. 

He groaned loudly, grabbing an open hole of your blouse and ripping it open, making the buttons of your shirt fly everywhere. You gasped, whining because now you didn’t have anything to come home in. 

“Kuroo! How am I supposed to go home without a shirt?” You whined, hearing him chuckle soon after. 

“Hush, you’ll be fine don’t worry, you won’t be needing it anytime soon.” Kuroo reassured with a smirk.

He unclipped your bra and threw it behind him, looking down hungrily at your tits, admiring how perfect they were. He cupped one of them and proceeded to place the other in his mouth. You let out a soft moan, awakening something fierce in him. 

“Oh fuck, I can’t wait to hear more of those sweet sounds, princess. That’s right, let it all out for me baby.” 

He kissed up your chest and to your neck, peppering kisses and bite marks on you. Claiming you. 

He bit down on a certain spot, making you moan out, your fingers getting intertwined with the back of his hair. Your legs clung onto his waist as he abused the spot with his mouth, leaving dark hickeys. 

Your moans became needier when he brought his knee up to your cunt, grinding it right against your clit, making you wetter by the second. 

You felt high on ecstasy, the pleasure becoming heavenly, but what made everything pure bliss was his words. 

The way he’d call you his baby, his princess in between kisses, and the best of all, his little sinner. 

Being called his sinner made you feel a different type of feeling. It felt wrong, you could feel the heavens looking down on you in disappointment with each response you gave him. 

Yes, you’d be giving up your oath to stay pure until marriage, but if it’s your god taking your virginity, what harm could be done?

When he lifted up off you, you were snapped from your pleasure. 

He was looking down at your body and you resting upwards on your elbows, wondering why he’d left. 

“Get on your knees.” It wasn't a request. It was an order. One that you, of course, didn’t even think to disobey. 

So there you sat. All pretty and kneeling in front of him as if he was an alter. 

 You looked like such a perfect slut in his eyes. Who knew that such an innocent little virgin could look like the perfect whore. 

He wouldn’t tell you that though. No, he wanted to warm you up first. Call you such sweet names, make you feel like his precious baby girl and then let you know just how much of a dirty slut he thought you were.

Knew you were. 

All you needed was a push in the right direction. And he would provide that push. 

“Now you want to know how to appease your god, don’t you?” 

You nodded from in between his legs enthusiastically. 

“Well, first, you have to atone for your sins. Now how would we go about doing that?” 

You didn’t answer. You didn’t know what to say. 

“C’mon baby, be a good girl and use your words. How would you atone for your sins? Think about the position you're in before you answer.” 

You looked down at your legs which were folded underneath you and looked back up at him. 

“P-Prayer?” 

He couldn’t help but laugh at your innocence. “Oh princess, so innocent even in such a vulgar position baby. You’re gonna atone for your sins by sucking me off. You don't want me to be mad, do you?” 

Of course you didn’t. You didn’t even understand what sins you had even committed, but if Kuroo says you’ve sinned, you'll let him do anything to make you holy again. 

He stood up and unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock and waving it teasingly over you. 

“Now stick out your tongue.” 

You did as you were told, eyes never leaving his cock. It was the only one you’d ever seen, and the only one you ever wanted to see. It was a good 7 or 8 inches and about 4 inches wide in girth. 

It had the drool pooling at the bottom of your tongue before falling on your thigh high socks. It felt every bit as sinful as it looked and it had your panties soaked. You'd grinded against yourself for some sort of friction. 

“Awe, so pretty for me, now listen to me, you're gonna take everything I give you, ok princess?” 

You nodded, feeling as if your voice would betray if you tried to speak. 

“What’d I say about using your words? Such a shame, you were being so good earlier.” 

“Sorry sir, please don’t be mad, I promise I’ll-I'll take it all. I'll be so good for you.” The words were coming out faster than you could control. If someone would have told you that you would be in that predicament about a week ago you would have laughed in their face. But here you were, begging for him to do something, anything. 

You sounded absolutely brain dead and he loved it. 

“Ah, yeah that’s it, that’s my good girl.” He said grabbing you by your hair and gently guiding you down his shaft. 

“Fuck baby, ‘gonna train this throat so well you’ll be ready to worship this cock with your mouth anytime of any day.” He growled, lowering your head down faster, soon hearing you gag over his length. You felt tears prick your eyes as he finally thrusted his full length in your mouth, going well past your limits. 

He lets out a dark chuckle, suddenly being cut off by a throaty moan. 

“Ah f-fuck princess you’re being such a good girl, now remember to breathe through your nose.” He reminded you, resulting in you looking up at him and nodding, letting him know you understood. 

Your parents would disown you if they knew what you were doing. Your pastor and priest wouldn’t even think of speaking to you. You’d only have Kuroo, but that doesn’t sound too bad. After all, you had devoted your life to your religion in the past, so what would be so different now? You’d just be able to indulge in such fine luxuries as getting facefucked after church. 

He put his other hand on your head, roughly shoving your head down, matching the bucking upwards of his hips. The action erupted a loud groan from him, throwing his head back. 

You could feel him all the way down your throat. 

“Oh yeah, that’s my good girl, fucking hell baby girl,” he moaned, you could feel his thrusting start to get uneven, your throat not having anymore time to adjust to his size and abuse. 

His pace was absolutely brutal but you sat there, taking everything he gave you.

On the inside you were smiling, happy to please your god, you felt so proud of yourself for making him feel good. Being his good little girl. His obedient little worshipper. 

Your eyes became watery, the way he roughly thrusted into your mouth made your throat hurt, which made your eyes water. 

He bit his lip, lowering the sound of the grunt he let out. “Mmf, baby you look so pretty right now, such a pretty fucking princess for me.” He grunted. 

You didn’t feel pretty, though. Your face was covered in tears, sweat, makeup, and ran down mascara. Your hair was under Kuroo’s grip, messily overlapping his hands. Strings of drool were hanging from your plump lips onto your thighs, not to mention your soaked panties. 

Kuroo on the other hand looked heaven sent. Hair messily askew and face tinted slightly red. Biting his lip while sweat slid down his forehead. He looked like he was graced by God.

He looked like he was graced by God.

You felt ashamed at how wet you got by just looking at him, but fuck was he sexy. 

He shoved your head down quicker and quicker, thrust harder into your mouth. “Fuck, fuck baby you’re gonna-you’re gonna make me—” His groans became more and more breathy, and his working became more and more sloppy, until you felt a warm, thick, sticky liquid coat the insides of your mouth. 

The foreign substance tasted bitter and you wanted to spit it—

“Ah ah,” he sang, grabbing your chin to make you look up at him. 

You looked disgusting. He wanted to see you like this more often.

 “Be good and swallow for me, baby girl.” 

You gulped down the liquid, feeling it still in your throat, but it didn’t bother you enough to where you couldn’t breath. 

“Di-did I do good, sir?” You sounded absolutely broken, and it was like music to his ears. 

“You did amazing, I don’t think I’ve ever cum so hard. Does your face feel alright?” He cooed, tucking himself back into his pants. 

“My jaw hurts, and so does my throat, but I’m glad I got to make you feel good.” 

Kuroo smirked, admiring what he molded you into. Such a dedicated disciple, you deserve an award. “Now it’s your turn. Come on, hop up on the bed for me,” he commanded, patting the spot on his bed beside him. 

You did so eagerly, not wanting to break your obedience streak. You sat on your feet, your hands resting on each of your thighs, smiling with the light shining beautifully in your eyes. 

Even as the mascara ran down your cheek, you looked so beautiful to him. 

“Lay down.” He softly said. You obeyed, as usual, keeping your legs closed in the air. You had no idea what he was thinking of doing. 

“Spread them for me, babes.” He commanded. You were confused, why did he want your legs spread? 

“Wait, why?” You asked innocently. His eyebrows furrowed.

 “Because I said so. You’re not really denying the word of your lord, are you?”

Of course you didn’t. You were completely devoted to him, so without further hesitation you spread your legs. He pulled your drenched panties up off you and threw them somewhere in the room. 

He ducked himself inbetween your thighs and planted your thighs on the side of his head with a secure grip. 

“W-Wait!” You squeaked out. 

“What’s wrong baby? You’ve been such a good girl, and good girls deserve rewards now don’t they?”  He acts like this is for you, when in all honesty it’s all been for him. This whole time he’s only been fulfilling his desires of turning you from a sweet and innocent princess into a filthy fucked out whore and he knows this will only speed the process a bit, you just so happen to be getting some pleasure out of it. 

“Yeah I gue- Ah!” A moan cut you off when you felt him lick up your wet folds, moaning your legs jolt up and your back arch. 

He plunged his tongue into you, his thick tongue thrusts into you, making your moans come out in squeaks. You felt absolutely amazing already. 

His tongue circled around your clit, pushing his tongue in and out of you in patterns; leaving his tongue in, out, for a second, then in again going back to sucking and circling.

Your moans became higher and breathier each time his tongue circled your clit, it drove him absolutely crazy.

He was...spelling something? You could feel it as he kept making the same trails around your cunt. 

K,

U,

R,

O,

O. 

Kuroo. 

“Mmph, Kuroo, more please…” You moaned tugging at his hair. He slid his thumb up your thigh, rubbing your clit as he pushed his tongue deeper in you, prodding your sweet spot.

The sudden action made you cry out in pleasure, tugging at his hair. He moaned from under you at the sudden mix of pain and pleasure on his scalp.

Kuroo stuck his tongue in and out of you, continuing to rub your clit with his thumb. You felt a tingling sensation grow low in your stomach, making your grip tighten on Kuroo’s hair and while your other frantically grabbed at his sheets, the foreign feeling traveling through your entire being. 

You moaned his name, wanting to ask him what the sensation was, but your mind only focused on him, making barely anything come out other than moans and his name. 

His fingers sped up as his tongue explored your walls. The sensation made you tighten, sending chills through your core as the pressure became too much to process alone.

Your legs twitched as your orgasm rocked through you, your eyes rolling back, gripping his hair tightly.

All that you could think of in that moment was Kuroo. KurooKurooKurooKuroo. It was a repeating mantra in your mind.

Your walls tightened around Kuroo’s tongue, a moan squeaking from your throat. Your grip tightened as you came, covering his tongue. You came from your high slowly, allowing you to let out a satisfied sigh. 

You smiled peacefully as he hungrily lapped at your clit, making sure not to let a single drop of your cum slip from his tongue. 

As he pulled out his fingers and lifted up from your body, you relaxed, your legs falling and your hand bringing itself to rest upon your stomach. 

He came up and captured your lips in a bruising kiss, making sure you could taste yourself on his tongue. You tried pushing him away, not liking the taste of yourself, but he slapped your thigh, taking your hands and holding both of them above your head. 

You whimpered squirming, uncomfortable with him holding you down. You shook your head in the kiss, trying to get away, but he only took this as an invitation to slide his tongue into your mouth. 

You moaned into the kiss, feeling your body temperature rise as he rocked against you, grinding against your thigh. The foreign feeling felt weird, but knowing you were giving him pleasure did cloud your mind with a hazy fog. 

He parted ways from the kiss and looked down on you. 

You looked so fucked out, and the real fun hadn’t even started yet. He wondered how you would be able to take him all the way, the thought of you not being able to handle all of him snuck its way  into his mind and making him groan. 

You would look so cute crying that it was all too big, how it wouldn’t fit. The money he’d pay to see that, he’d bow down and pray to any god to see that image and keep it in his mind forever. 

He leaned up and loomed over you, caging you with his hands on either side of your head. His eyes were dark with lust. It struck a tinge of fear in you. 

He unzipped his pants, pulling his cock out, and spread your legs once more.

Leaning down, he whispered in your ear. "Do you think you're worthy enough for my cock princess?" 

"Huh!?" 

"Awe, what did you think was gonna happen sweetheart? You thought it'd be that easy to make up for your sins—"

"But you said—" you felt tears prick your eyes. You didn't think you were ready for such a big step before marriage. You two weren't even dating!

"But you said—" He mocked in a whiny voice. "I know what I said, and now I'm saying," he pulled you by the cross on your necklace. 

"That I'm gonna fuck you until you’re too fucked out to even think about anything else. I'll turn you into such a pretty whore that you'll feel dirty even thinking about stepping foot in that church. Do you understand slut?"

Whore? Slut? Where was this coming from? He’d been so nice to you. You wouldn’t think he’d call you such degrading names. It was like a switch had been flipped inside him. 

You looked down at his size, causing you to whimper in fear for your small body. 

Kuroo squeezed your cheeks in one hand roughly, making you whine, your eyes watering. “Use your words, you dumb bitch. Do you or do you not understand what I’m saying?” He repeated. 

You nodded. “I-I understa-stand.” You hiccuped, hugging your arms.

You we’re borderline sobbing at this point. This wasn’t the smooth and sweet guy who chatted you up in the convenience store. This wasn’t the sweet christian boy your parents knew. This man was Lucifer himself.

And now, your new lord and saviour. 

You didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. You should have never given him the benefit of the doubt. Everyone was right about him. He was just a mean playboy jerk who treated women like shi-

“Awe don’t cry sweetheart. You were doing so good just a minute ago.” His sweet and comforting tone snapped you from your thoughts, and you felt your mind become just a bit less panicked about the whole situation. “Although, you do look awfully pretty when you cry… hm… How bout this; I’ll just make you feel so good to where your instant reaction is to cry. That way I get to see that cute little tear-stained face, and you get to have my expert cock. How does that sound, princess?” 

You nodded, feeling like if you opened your mouth only sobs would come out. 

“What did I say about your words?” He quickly chastised. 

“S-Sorry. Yes sir I-I’d like that…” 

“That's a good girl,” The praise made your chest bubble with joy. You were happy that you could be seen as good in his eyes after all the disgusting things he had just called you. 

“Now here’s the worst part.” 

And that was all the warning you got before he rammed his cock into you. It was the worst pain that you had ever felt. The agonizing stretch, the unfamiliar feeling of being so full, it all was too painful to bear. So you did exactly what he planned and cried. 

He thought of going slow, he really did, but then he wouldn’t be able to see you and those absolutely gorgeous tear streaks. 

“Kuroo, it hurts! It’s too much! Take it out please!” You sobbed out. 

He laughed at you. “Aww poor baby, is it too much?” 

“Good.” He said with another slam of his hips. “You seem—fuck— to forget what we’re—oh god your so fucking tight—doing this for. You were acting like a bitch in church. In the house of your—shit—precious lord.” He said the last point in a mocking tone. “And now you're just paying for your sins to your new god.” He breathed out while continuing to thrust into you at a brutal pace. 

You could only cry harder as he fucked you with such vigor. The stretch was so painful and with every rough thrust he hit your cervix dead on. It was absolute torture. 

So you 're confused as to why the pain slowly subsided and turned to pleasure. Were you… enjoying this? No. There was no way. You didn’t even get a real say in what was happening. So why we’re tiny gasps coming out faster than you could stop them? And why did your hips start to move down to match his thrusts. 

“How do you thi-think your parents would react to your sinful actions right now? Huh, you dumb slut? Bet they’d be so disappointed to see that their precious little girl is nothing but a pretty little sinner huh? Say it! Fuck- Say you’re a sinner, and make sure the neighbors can hear you say it.” 

“B-but your mom..!” 

“You actually believed that?” He laughed. His laughing consisted of grunts and groans, making his laughing time out. “You’re such a fucking dumbass, you know that? I wouldn’t be touching your disgusting ass if my mother was home.” He growled, making more tears stream down your face. 

You whined, covering your face because of the absurd amount of embarrassment you felt. 

“Oh no no no, don’t cover your beautiful face now!” He grunted, taking both of your wrists and holding them above your head. 

With only the bottom half of his cock fucking into you, his thrusts were long and deep, making sure you felt it in your stomach. Your eyes rolled back with each agonizingly painful and deep thrust, your nails ripping off your skins from balling your fists. 

“Oh fuckkkk you're so tight for me.” Kuroo groaned. ”How’s such a slut like you got such a tight pussy?” 

It was obvious that the question was rhetorical as he started to slow his thrusts but put more force behind them, bruising your cervix. All you could let out were little “ah ah ah ahhhhhhs”. 

He slowly stopped, looking down at your trembling body. He let out a breathy groan, shaking his head and biting his lip. 

He let go of one of your wrists and grabbed hold of your hand, bringing it down to your stomach. 

“Princess, do you feel that?” He asked, rubbing your hand over a bump on your stomach. You looked down with him, seeing a slight bump stand with attention below your belly button, making your eyes widen and your breath quicken. 

“Ka-ka-Kuroo! What is that?!” You frantically questioned. 

He looked up at you with the most agrivated, most dumb founded look on his face. “What do you mean, ‘what’s that’?! That’s me, dollface.” He spat, making you jump. “Y-you..?” 

He groaned, slamming into you again, causing you to scream out again. “Ya’ see that moving in your stomach? That’s me, fucking deep into your tight tight pussy.” He growled. You look down again, seeing the bulge in your stomach move with each sharp thrust Kuroo sent through you. 

It made your head feel fuzzy. 

Your body started adjusting to his size, finally. You lifted your legs to cling onto the side of his waist, but they quickly fell spread for him. Your arms also stopped struggling, relaxing under his grip. Your eyes slowly rolled to the back of your head. With each animalistic thrust of his hips you could feel the bed shake. You could barely hear the frame hit the wall over the sound of your high whines and moans and his low groans filling your ear. But you could still faintly hear it, reminding of how rough he was getting. 

“Alright princess now open your mouth and stick your tongue out.” He commanded from over you. 

You opened your mouth and leaned your head back being sure to lol your tongue out.

You felt a cold liquid settle near the tip of your tongue, it was Kuroo’s spit. He’d let it fall like a fountain. Licking his lips when he’d finished. 

“Now swallow like a good girl.”

You closed your mouth and gulped. Letting the spit slide down your tongue. It should have grossed you out, but instead it made your eyes roll back. 

“Aww, look at you, all pretty and fucked out.” he shrugged, thrusting upwards into you, hitting a spot that made you scream out in ecstasy. 

“Kuroo, right there! Fuck, Kuroo yes right there!!” You moaned, arching your back and throwing your head back. 

That was the first time you cursed. Ever. 

“Such a dirty vocabulary you’re discovering! I’m such a good influence on you, your parents would be so proud.” He sarcastically exclaimed in a low and gravelly voice. 

Your parents. You were so caught up in your pleasure that you completely forgot all about them, and the time limit they'd set for you. You were sure you’d past it, it was fairly dark outside. 

You whined, feeling more tears of disappointment roll down the side of your face. “Do-don’t talk about them right now…Ah-I’m gonna-Kuroo fuck p-please!”

He only thrusted harder faster. “Awe baby, do you think you're the one in control? That’s so cute.” He pulled you by your necklace for the second time that night. “You’re atoning for your sins, and I’m using your body for my own pleasure. So you’re gonna sit back, and make sure the only thing that comes out of that pretty. Little. Mouth,” He punctuated each word with a harsh thrust. “Are those pretty. Little. Moans. You got that princess?” 

“Y-yes sir. I’m so sorry sir.” 

“Awe look at my baby! Using her words like a good girl!” He deeply cooed. 

You bit your lip, holding back the moan you desperately wanted to let out, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of your voice. He noticed and started to pound faster. You couldn’t hold back anymore. 

“Fuck! Kuroo! Ple-ase! Fuck you’re so good. Sosososo good. Pleeeeease!” 

“Listen to you! You sound downright pathetic!” He laughed at you. It felt humiliating, but you felt yourself getting wetter from the whole situation. The intensity, the humiliation, Kuroo’s groans, they all were filling up your senses, and you could feel yourself nearing your climax. 

“Look at you, you’re getting tighter. How much of a- fuuuuck how is it possible that your tighter- slut are you? You're really getting off to me calling you a slut? You like that? Huh? Go on, answer me whore.”  

“Yes! Yes Kuroo! I’m your whore! Fuuuuuckkkk!” Your moans were high and breathy. 

He pulled you by your necklace one again and snatched it clean off of you. 

You gasped, snapping out of your lustful trance. “Kuroo!!! My dad gave me that!!” You cried. 

“I don’t give a fuck, I’m your god now, you don’t need a stupid cross, I’ll let everyone know you’re mine.” He huffed, dangling it in front of you, before throwing it out his window. 

The window. The window! 

 “K-Kuroo, how long has that be-been open?” You asked. 

He groaned, slowing down his thrust. “The window? It’s been open since this morning.” He shrugged, fucking into you sloppier and sloppier. 

You felt embarrassed, heat rushing over your being as you held onto Kuroo to hide your face. “O-oh…” you moaned, scrunching your eyebrows together in embarrassment. 

“What’s wrong baby? Are you embarrassed? Are you embarrassed that my whole neighborhood can hear how bitchy, and pathetic you sound? Fuck- Good, fucking cry about it like the stupid bitch you are.” 

Each insult brought you closer to that edge. You forgot all about your previous embarrassment and basked in the bliss of Kuroo’s rough thrusts. 

“Holy shit- Did you get tighter from me reminding you of how much of a—shiiiiiitttt—of a fucking slut you are?” His voice sounded so breathy. You could feel him twitching inside of you. 

And then the dam broke. You could feel your orgasm sparking through you like electricity. 

“Kuroo! Kuroo! Im cumm- Im cumming! Oh Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck! You're so good!”

He revelled in the profanities spilling from your mouth, knowing that before this you probably would have never thought about saying such vile things. 

“Oh thats right baby who’s making you cum on his cock like a dumb bitch in heat? Who’s your god? C’mon, say it, princess.” 

“You! Shit! You're my god! Oh please- It’s too much! It's- It’s too much!” 

He laughed at you. “How many fucking—Fuck baby you feel so good—How many times do I have to tell you this isn’t- Shit- This isn’t for you.” The last part came out as a dark growl. 

“Y-Yes sir! I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah that's a good girl, oh you're such a good slut for me. Shutting up and just taking it. Yeahhh that's a good fucking whore. You want your god to cum inside you? Breed you and fill you up so nice? That what you want princess?” 

Your eyes widened. Nononono he couldn’t! He had to pull out! 

“N-No...Please...” Your voice sounded so weak and tiny. 

“Oh no baby, that was rhetorical. You're gonna sit back and let me breed this little pussy like a good girl who stays in her place, because surely- fuck- you remember your place and wouldn’t talk back, now would you?”

You knew it was useless to deny him. You don’t even know why you tried. 

After a few more thrust there was a particularly hard one. The force of fit knocked you back a bit, but he pulled you back by your thighs so he would stay fully buried inside of you. 

Suddenly you felt nothing but warmth filling you. He was cumming inside you. You could feel him shooting spurt after spurt. You had never felt so full, his thick cock splitting you accompanied by his come pushed you to another orgasm. Your legs shot up and you let out a loud whiny moan. 

“Oh god! Oh fuck! You feel so good filling me up Kuroo- Fuck!” 

“Aww you came again from me cumming in you? What happened to you not wanting it?” He teased. You couldn’t respond, you still hadn’t come down from your high. 

_________

You woke up in an unfamiliar location, dark red walls and black sheets were unlike your pastel blue walls and baby pink sheets. You panicked, until memories of your earlier actions came back to you. You weren't completely calm though, you were sure you definitely passed your curfew and Kuroo was nowhere to be found. 

“Kuroo! I need to get home like— now!” 

He entered the room and laughed. “Oh calm down you big baby, I called your folks and said you’d passed out cause you were so tired. Took some convincing, but they’re fine with you spending the night here.”

You sighed, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. “Oh, thank god.” 

“Speaking of,” He came closer to you. “You down for round two?” 

You felt warmth flood your face and threw a pillow at him. “You pervert!” 

“How am I the pervert when you're the one naked in my bed?” 

He was right, you did feel a cold breeze brush against your cold body as you pulled the covers up. 

“Well then where are my clothes?” 

He winced, itching the back of his neck. “Ya’ see...your skirt is still ripped, but I put your underwear and skirt in the wash. You could wear something of mine though!"

[honeyhan-123]

No Body, No Crime

Summary: Sheriff Bodecker just has a few questions about your husbands disappearance that he’d like to go over with you. 

Warnings: Non-con/dub-con, abuse of power, Lee is a sneaky devil, very brief (squint and you miss it) mention of an abusive household. 

Word Count: 2.7k

AN: No one asked for it, but I’ve finally written some Lee for y’all. Hope you enjoy! Also, a massive thank you to the awesome @lilithhellfire​ who beta’d this for me, I really appreciate it!

My Masterlist

When you heard the knock on your door you never thought it would be the devil coming to call. But there he stood in all his pudgy glory. Sheriff Lee Bodecker.

You had seen the Sheriff a fair bit in the last few weeks, ever since your husband Trey had skipped town but he had always been accompanied by some deputy or other, and he had never called so late at night. He must know something. 

Forgetting all formalities, you jumped right into the questioning. ‘So? What is it? What have you found?’ Your voice was panicked despite his call waking you up. 

‘You’re not even gonna invite me in darlin’?’ His deep drawl cut through you and you realised he was right. You probably didn’t want to have this conversation out on your front doorstep where any of your neighbours could overhear. You stepped back and opened the door wider. ‘Please come in Sheriff.’ 

‘Darlin, I think we’re past that point in our relationship. Just call me Lee.’ You supposed he was right, you had been spending a lot of time down at the department recently. Still, the way he mentioned your relationship and how he kept calling you darling sent a chill through you. You weren’t his darling. 

‘I don’t suppose I could get some coffee? Maybe even something sweet to eat too? I was up half the night last night and it looks like I’ll be up most of tonight too.’ His authoritative tone made it clear you didn’t really have a choice and so you left him in your little sitting room before flittering off to the kitchen. 

Your mind was a blur as you methodically went through the actions of lighting the stove and grinding the coffee beans. You let the coffee stew as you grabbed the tin of freshly made brownies. They had been meant for the church picnic tomorrow morning but you didn’t think letting Lee have one or two would make that much of a difference. 

You had a million questions and no answers. Why was the sheriff even here? What had he found? Or God forbid, had he found Trey? A shudder wrecked through you as you thought of the unthinkable only to be brought back by Lee’s hand on your shoulder.

‘You alright there darlin’? The coffee’s probably ready by now.’ You gulped and nodded jerkily as you stepped away from his lingering touch. 

‘Sugar and cream?’ Your voice was nowhere near as strong as you wanted it to be and you knew the sheriff had heard the difference. 

‘Plenty of both please.’ You doled out ample amounts into his cup and prepared your own as something to do, even though you already knew you couldn’t drink it. 

The couch groaned under Lee’s weight and he patted the seat next to him, calling you over. You teetered on the edge of the faded cushion and forced a smile as his arm rested along the back of the couch.

‘You know darlin’, there’s been somethin’ about this case that just hasn’t sat right with me ever since it first came across my desk.’

You took a minute to respond, unsure if he was baiting you or just thinking out loud. ‘Oh? What is it?’

‘Well you see, it’s a little hard to explain, but when you’ve been on the job as long as I have you start to notice things. Little things that by themselves don’t matter much but when you look at the big picture, well, it becomes a whole lot clearer.’ 

‘Little things? Like what?’ Your heart was pounding in your chest, your meager dinner of chicken fillet and veggies threatening to come back up.

‘You know, just the odd thing here and there. Like how in the week before your husband went missing you made sure to tell anyone who would listen you were workin’ that Saturday. Or how even though you were at the diner from lunch till close you didn’t take a break. Not once in ten hours were you anywhere where someone couldn’t see you. You wanted to make sure you had an airtight alibi so when your husband was finally reported missing, we wouldn’t pin it on you.’ 

You felt the blood rush down from your head and there was a lump in your throat. ‘Wh-what are you… I don’t understand.’ 

‘Oh no darlin’ I think you do. I know that you and I both know that we can look for weeks and weeks and we’ll never find Trey alive will we? How’d you do it huh? Bludgeon him in his sleep? Or did ya put somethin’ in his coffee?’

‘I didn’t…  I-I loved my husband. I didn’t do anything.’ You tried to stand from the couch but his arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you back down against his body. 

‘C’mon darlin’ we both know that’s horse shit but I am feeling awfully generous right now.’ Confusion swept over you. What was he saying?

‘Generous?’ 

‘Yeah, very generous. I won’t turn you in but… well it is gonna cost you. Generosity doesn’t come free.’ His other hand brushed your dressing gown away from your thigh before resting on the bare skin just above your knee. 

Realisation dawned on you and you tried to shove his hand away. You weren’t about to trade one monster for another. ‘I didn’t do anything and if you had even a morsel of proof I would’ve heard about it by now. In a town this small news travels fast.’ 

Lee let out a dark chuckle that sent a shiver through you. ‘Do you seriously think I need real proof? I can fake anythin’ I want and at the end of the day who’s gonna believe you, some little waitress over me, the man they elected Sheriff? You’re doomed either way darlin’ so why don’t you do yourself a favour and take off that dressing gown and let me see that body of yours before I lose my patience.’ 

You were all too well aware of the Sheriff’s darker side to go against his wishes. With a shaky breath you stood up, glad to not have his hands on you anymore, no matter how temporary their absence was. Your legs threatened to buckle as you fumbled with the knot. The heavy cotton finally fell away from your shoulders and into a pile on the floor. 

‘C’mere darlin’. Let me see you.’ You settled yourself in between the sheriff’s legs and his hands quickly grasped your hips, bunching the satin nighty. ‘Well, isn’t that a little unexpected treat.’ He paused to admire you, his cerulean blue eyes raking up and down your body before he spoke again. ‘Take it off.’ 

You shut your eyes and grasped the edge of the satin, pulling it over your head in one swoop. ‘Oh yeah. That’s much better.’ His hands grasped your tits, groping the flesh greedily. An image of your husband flashed through your mind and you cursed his name. Even in death he was still screwing you over. 

Lee’s hand dipping down to the apex of your thighs had your eyes snapping wide open. Regret of not wearing panties to bed filled you as his fingers did too. They explored your walls, scissoring this way and that. They teased your slick from your unwilling body and you shuddered, disgusted at the effect he had on you. 

His thumb found your clit and started rubbing smooth circles around the little bud. Your knees began to shake as the squelch of your juices filled the room. Your arms involuntarily reached out to grasp his shoulders as he continued to toy with you. A devilish smirk came over him and he wetted his lips before attaching them to one of your pert nipples. 

A gasp fell from your lips as he suckled on the tender flesh in time with his thick fingers. Before you even had time to recognise it for what it was your orgasm washed over you. Your body shook as pleasure made its way through your veins and you could only just feel Lee’s arm circle around your waist holding you up. 

When you recovered, you watched as Lee withdrew his hand from you and held it up so you could see it glistening. ‘Look at that darlin’. This pussy already knows who it belongs to now don’t it?’ You bit back a snarky response as he licked his fingers clean, his eyes remaining on yours the entire time. 

‘Now c’mere. I didn’t come all the way over here just to get you off.’ His hands dipped down to where his belt was partially hidden by his overflowing stomach. He fumbled with the belt before pulling his pants and underpants down a couple inches. Just enough for his cock to pop out. 

You tried not to stare but it was hard not to. He was easily bigger than Trey’s pathetic excuse of one had been, plus this one was flushed, with little drops of cream oozing from the tip. 

‘Well c’mon darlin’ don’t just stare at it. I’m sure you know what to do.’ His arms stretched out along the back of the couch calling you forward.

‘No. I- I can’t. You can’t make me do this. Please don’t.’ You tried taking a step back only to be stopped by Lee’s darkening glare. 

‘I can make you do whatever the fuck I want.’ Lee spat at you, his glare turning positively hostile. ‘I’m in a pretty good mood right now so I’ll give you five seconds to get that cunt over here before I’ll show you my bad side. Five… Four…’ You blinked back your tears as you approached him, straddling one leg on either side of his thick thighs. ‘That’s a smart choice you just made darlin’.’ 

You refused to look at him as you gripped his aching cock and lined it up with your entrance. With one small sigh of resignation you sunk down onto him. The stretch was worse than you had thought and you could already tell you were going to be sore tomorrow. ‘Fuck, darlin’. God… this cunt… fuck me.’ Lee was already breathless as you began to ride him. His arms fell to your hips, pulling you in even closer. His soft belly rubbed against you with every lift of your hips and his shirt buttons which seemed to be clinging on for dear life scratched along your chest.

You weren’t afraid to let your fingernails dig into his shoulders. A sadistic part of you wanted to draw his blood as though that made up for what he was forcing you to do. You gritted your teeth as his lips found your nipples once more, leaving a scatter of love bites on your skin as he went. 

You tried to hold in your moans of pleasure as he brushed against your g-spot but a stuttering of your hips gave you away. ‘Oh you like that? Right there?’ Lee’s hips flexed up to meet yours, hitting his mark. 

You made sure to look into his eyes as you responded, ignoring the pleasure he was causing. ‘I don’t like any of this.’ Lee’s eyes narrowed at you and his jaw clenched. His hand briefly left your hip and you felt the rush of air before it landed on your ass with a smack. His other came up to clutch your chin roughly. 

‘Don’t you lie to me darlin’. I know you like this. I know you do. And do ya wanna know how I know?’ His hand squeezed its way between your bodies, coming to your clit. ‘I know because this little cunt is squeezing me so fuckin’ tight. It’s tryin to milk me dry because that’s what all you women want. You just want a man’s cum in ya. You just want to be owned. And don’t bother trying to deny it because your body can’t lie to me.’ He gave your jaw one last squeeze before settling his hand back on your hip and rocked your body against his. 

As much as his words had disgusted you, they had also turned you on and you could feel yourself getting impossibly close to the edge. Lee’s hand clawed at the back of your neck as he pulled you in for a dominating kiss. His tongue easily forced its way between your lips and he demonstrated his ownership over your body as you kissed him back. His kiss was harsh and needy, all teeth and tongue. You could barely breathe as you felt your toes curl. Your subsequent moans were swallowed by Lee and he planted his feet firmly to help thrust up into you. 

‘God, that pussy is just squeezing me dry. Fuck, I’m gonna - I’m gonna cum. You’re gonna make me fuckin’ cum.’ His voice was husky as his lips found their way to your shoulder. You could feel him swell inside you, his body tensing against yours. 

You didn’t have time to tell him to pull out before he was yanking you as far down his shaft that he could. You could feel spurt after spurt of his warm seed fill your cunt as he let out a sinful moan. His lips found yours once more as his hips rocked slowly against yours, making sure you got every drop he had to give. 

When his hands at last disappeared from your body you opened your eyes. You were startled by how flushed he looked, his cheeks well passed being called ‘rosy’ and his breath was heavily laboured. He had a lazy smirk as he openly objectified your body, his arms once again resting along the back of the couch. His pink tongue swiping across his plump lips pulled you from your observation and you hastily stood up. 

You wanted this man out of your house now.

You had satisfied him and done what he had wanted. Surely he would leave you alone now. You dressed on shaking legs and made sure to tie your robe extra tight. Even though he had already seen you naked, you didn’t want him seeing anything ever again. 

You stood as far away from him as possible as he pulled his pants back up and popped his sheriff hat back on. His hand strayed to the tin of brownies you had pulled out earlier as he crossed the coffee table towards you and the door. You watched as he popped the entire thing into his mouth and a little groan came from his throat. 

‘Well, these are quite the treat aren’t they?’ You hated the smirk he sent your way but you nodded just the same. 

‘It’s a family recipe.’ 

‘I’m sure you’re excellent in the kitchen, though, I doubt you’re as good as you are in the sack.’ Your jaw clenched tightly and you ignored his last comment. 

‘My mother taught me a lot.’ Lee nodded as though in deep understanding and you opened the door, eager for him to leave your house forever. He stepped out onto your stoop and turned back to face you. 

‘Well, I sure do look forward to seeing everything else she taught you.’

‘What- What do you mean?’ Dread turned your blood to ice in your veins.

‘You didn’t think that this was a one time thing did ya? You committed first degree murder darlin’. You’re gonna have to pay up a lot more to get out of a charge like that.’

‘But- But you said it was the once.’

‘I said no such thing. It’s not my fault you didn’t ask for the terms. If you wanna remain a free woman, you’re gonna do what I say and continue letting me pay you night time visits ya hear? I’d hate for any damning evidence to come to light…’ Lee let his sentence hang in the air and you very nearly considered telling him he could go fuck off, but then you remembered the reason you were in this mess in the first place. Prison was only marginally better than an abusive household for the little bundle of cells inside you to grow. 

‘See ya soon darlin’.’ Lee racked his eyes down your body one last time before tipping his hat to you. You stood in the doorway, watching as he climbed into the cruiser and drove off down your street. 

You could do nothing but pray you hadn’t just traded one monster for an even worse one.

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BTS Reaction | Their S/O doesn’t Believe In Marriage [Request]

BTS X GN!Reader

A/N: First post back after my break! Hope you guys enjoy the new lot of requests! I’ll let you know when I open them up again! Thank you for being so patient with me 💕💕💕

SEOKJIN:

Seokjin had known about your feelings towards marriage since the start of your relationship. When you began dating and could tell that it was starting to get serious you decided to tell him that you didn't believe in the whole marriage thing. Claiming that it was nothing more than a piece of paper declaring that two people were together forever and that you didn't need that to be happy. That was almost ten years ago and your relationship was Jin was still growing stronger every day but the marriage scenario was starting to bother you. Jin had told you how much he'd wanted a wedding but he was willing to give it all up for you, give up his dream in order to make you happy. 

"Jin?" You questioned one night as you sat across from him at the dinner table. The two of you were having a date night inside since he'd been so busy with work that week, you'd made the setting romantic with candles and flowers trying to hint at something you wanted to talk about. It was a tough subject since you had been the one to abandon the idea of marriage altogether and just be together. 

"Yes, love?" He glanced up at you as he sipped on the red wine you'd gotten and he could tell there was something on your mind. You were frowning as you stared down at the placemats, not being able to hold eye contact with him. 

"Something bothering you?" He questioned, putting down his glass so that he could hold your hand in his own. It was now or never,

"Why haven't you asked me to marry you?" The words shocked you almost as much as they'd shocked Jin who was sitting with his mouth hanging open and not blinking. He began shaking his head as he stuttered out, trying to think of some kind of an answer for you. 

"You...You told me that you didn't believe in it. I wasn't going to ask because I knew your feelings on it," The crushing feeling of Jin giving up his dream of being married began to weight down on you and you realised just how much he was willing to give up for you so you began shaking your head.

"I would marry you...I-I would do it because I know how happy it would make you," You whispered, pushing aside your plate so you could lean into Jin's personal space to let him know how serious you were about this. 

"But you think marriage is a piece of paper-"

"It is, but that piece of paper will make you the happiest man in the world...What kind of partner would I be if I didn't make you happy?" You smiled softly as he kissed you deeply, holding your face in his hands as you could sense just how excited he was at the idea of marrying you. Even if you did think it was a cringe-fest to have a huge wedding if it meant you got to see Jin smile like this forever, you would do it a thousand times.

YOONGI:

It always came back down to this whenever you and Yoongi were bickering about something stupid. After being together for almost eleven years you would think you'd get used to it but you weren't. You couldn't even remember what this fight was about, just that it was now in the direction of marriage which was where all of the fights led to lately with him. 

"Why won't you marry me?" He questioned as he stared at you from across the kitchen, your hands gripped onto the sink as you peered down into the dishwater. The subject had never come up as to why you didn't want to get married, just that it was something you never wanted to do. Ever. You could hear the pain in Yoongi's voice as he'd asked you as if there was something wrong with him as to why you wouldn't marry him but that would never be the case. There was nothing wrong with Yoongi it was always just you getting into your own head as you thought about marriage.

"Do you not love me?" You span around so quickly you almost passed out but you stared at him trying to think of the words to say to him as he teared up in front of you. 

"Yoongi it's not you...It's me," You groaned as you realised how cliche you sounded to him and you shook your head, moving closer to him as you reached for his hands. 

"Yoongi I just...I don't see the point in marriage." You admitted to him as he stared at you, frowning as he heard your explanation for it not following along. 

"The point is that we'll be together forever...Married and as one..." He said slowly as if you didn't understand the basics of what marriage meant but you shook your head softly, sitting down with him at the table. 

"I don't see the big deal in having a huge party because a piece of paper has joined us as a couple...We're already a great couple without that," As Yoongi listened to you he began to realise what you meant when you said you didn't see the point in it but that didn't mean he felt the same. A big wedding was something he'd always wanted, marrying the love of his life with his friends and family there to bear witness to it so he could show his love. 

"Is it a deal-breaker if I don't want to get married?" You questioned as you stared at a shocked looking Yoongi who was still trying to process everything in his head. 

"You would never...ever marry me?" He stared back at you and you could see in his eyes how much it was breaking him at the idea of not being able to marry you and you bit down on your lip. 

"I-if it means that much to you I would do it," You whispered as you stared at him, realising that it didn't matter what you thought. If marrying him meant that he would be happy you would do it, you would do anything for Yoongi.

HOSEOK:

Since agreeing to marry Hoseok you had done your best to at least act as though you were truly excited about the wedding but it was hard when you weren't. It wasn't as though you weren't in love with Hoseok because you were, you were hopelessly in love with him which was why you were going through with the wedding in the first place. 

"Babe?" You glanced up as you heard your pet name being called out and you were met with stares from Hoseok and a cake lady both of them waiting for your opinion on the cake you had just tasted. 

"Oh," You glanced down at the red velvet cake and nodded your head at it, 

"It was good." Hoseok chuckled softly as he kissed your temple softly, 

"You said that about all of them," You forced out a smile to him as you nodded your head once again, 

"They were all good." You mumbled not knowing what else there was to say about cake, the baker excused herself to speak to another customer while Hoseok stared at you. 

"Sorry...I just don't feel great," You lied as you saw how heartbroken he was that you weren't taking this as seriously as he was but he didn't know the truth. Hoseok had no idea about your feelings on marriage and that you were only marrying him because you knew the big church wedding and party would make him happy, you knew that you would do anything even if it was cliche for him because you loved him that much. 

"I can cancel," He suggested as put down the plate he was holding and looked at you, 

"We're already here-"

"I can cancel the wedding," He cut you off and you stared up at him, shocked that he knew what you'd been feeling this whole time. He moved closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

"What kind of a boyfriend would I be if I didn't notice my partner not interested in all of this," He whispered to you as you weakly smiled at him as you thought about him knowing you didn't want to get married. 

"I'm doing this for you Hobi, I want to make you happy," You reassured him but he shook his head at you, leaning forward to give you a small kiss on your lips. 

"Just spending the rest of our lives together will make me happy," He promised as he looked into your eyes, smiling once again as you seemed to relax in relief of not having to go through with a huge wedding. 

"Let's go home," He whispered, kissing your cheek as he paid for the cake tasting and left with you, hand in hand together.

NAMJOON:

The moment you walked into the overly fancy restaurant that night panic began to set in you, you began to realise that Namjoon was going to do something you weren't ready for. All of the other times you'd been with someone this was the question and answer that made them run away or end the relationship. 

"Y/n, would you like some more wine?" Namjoon raised his eyebrow at you and you nodded. So far you'd made it through the whole meal without him asking you but it was only a matter of time. The wine was poured into your glass and you heard it, the small clinking of a ring hitting the bottom of a wine glass and you stared down. The small band sitting there while Namjoon had a giant smile on his face, ready to get down onto one knee before you reached out to stop him. Pleading with him with just your eyes not to do this right now so he stayed seated, staring back at you as you watched him. 

"Will you-"

"Namjoon," You cut him off as you took his hands in yours again, looking from the glass to his face as you could see his heartbreaking in front of you. It was as if you were holding his heart in the palm of your hands and you swallowed nervously, 

"I-I've never mentioned it before because I never thought you would..." You were going to tell him you didn't think he would ask you but it wasn't true. You knew that one day he eventually would but you were hoping it would be in the privacy of your shared home where you could explain your feelings on marriage to him.

"I don't see marriage as a big deal...It's just a slip of paper," You explained as basically as you could, waiting for Namjoon to say something but he was just staring back at you. 

"Marriage is the legally or formally recognized union of two people as partners in a personal relationship," You blinked at him as he gave you the literal definition of marriage but you shook your head. 

"Joonie...I've never and I would never see myself getting married..."

"Does this mean you don't want to be with me?" His voice cracked and your heart dropped to te pit of your stomach as you began to violently shake your head, 

"No, Namjoon. I love you. I love you more than anything else but I just don't want to get married...I saw what it put my family through and I-" Namjoon cut you off this time by leaving a small and gentle kiss on your lips. You frowned as you stared at him waiting for an explanation this time. 

"You don't have to explain yourself...Just stay with me." He whispered as he looked into your eyes, you nodded at him leaning across to kiss him again.

JIMIN: 

That morning Jimin had been in the apartment with you only you didn't know it. You thought he'd left for work and called your best friend to talk to her about marriage things. Jimin had been hinting about marrying you for a while and you'd managed to avoid the topic by playing dumb or just changing the subject so you'd called your friend for advice. All Jimin heard was that you didn't want to get married and he knew that he had to speak to you about it. 

"Y/n...I heard you this morning," You stopped pouring him the tea as you heard him speaking and you waited for him to continue on. Waiting for the usual lines that followed along whenever someone found out that you didn't want to get married. It was always the same, "You're too young to know what you want," "It'll all change when you find the right person," but Jimin was the right person for you. Having a slip of paper in your hands that would tell you he was yours forever didn't change anything except having a piece of paper. 

"Do you really not want to marry me?" Jimin stared at you as he awaited an answer but you knew there wasn't one that you could give to him that would easily explain all of this away.  

"Is it a deal-breaker if I don't want to get married...To anyone..." It had always been a topic that people would fight you on. No one would want to date you forever, eventually, someone would ask you to marry them and you would say yes but it just wasn't you. It wasn't something you saw any need in doing and you stuck by that statement. 

"Is it a deal-breaker if I want to get married?" He threw it back in your face and you shook your head.

"If getting married is what you really...Truly want then I will...I will do it," Jimin's eyes locked onto yours, he was expecting you to say it was a deal-breaker. That you wouldn't marry him, not that he wanted that. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you but he wanted to make sure you wanted that to. Your happiness meant the world to him, 

"I don't want you to force yourself into it for me," He admitted as he intertwined your hand with his own, kissing the top of your hand as he smiled at you and at that moment you knew you both loved each other so much you were willing to do anything to make each other happy.

TAEHYUNG:

The wedding had gone perfectly, the ceremony was beautiful and now the reception was going along brilliantly. You and Taehyung were out on the dance floor enjoying your first dance as a married couple, you stared at him as you smiled happily up at him. Although weddings weren't your idea of fun and you'd never wanted to get married you'd known how much Taehyung wanted this for the longest time so you went along with it. Agreeing to everything he had asked of you, never once complaining about how cliche you thought it was or how cringey you thought it was that he wanted this. If it made Taehyung happy you were going to do everything in your power to make him smile. 

"Thank you for today," He whispered as he span you around and into his chest, swaying with you in time to the beat of the slow musical melody that was playing. You frowned as you turned your head to look up at him, not following with what he was saying.

"I know weddings aren't your thing and that you're only doing this to make me happy," You stared at him in awe as you realised he knew you a lot better than he was letting on, you wrapped your arms around his neck and continued to sway with him. Smiling as you shook your head, 

"This isn't so bad." You tried to downplay the cringe you were feeling but you were doing a bad job at it, Taehyung chuckled softly as he dipped you down to kiss you softly. Laughing as someone snapped photographs of you both and you let out a displeased groan, standing back up and staring at him. 

"You owe me a backrub," You winked as you kissed him once again, happy that you were able to make him happy no matter what, even if it meant enduring the next couple of hours for him.

JUNGKOOK: 

When Jungkook asked you to marry him and you told him no he worried that you didn't love him the way that he loved you but you cleared it up right away not wanting him to feel that way. You'd came clean about not believing in marriages, that all it was was a piece of paper joining two people together and it wasn't a big deal. Jungkook agreed with you at the time but as more time passed you could see it was starting to bother him. His family and friends constantly asking when he was planning on popping the question to you. People always bringing it up in interviews that you had been together so long a marriage proposal was right around the corner and you knew it was starting to bother him even if he would never admit it to you. When you noticed how much it was bothering him, you told him to ask you to marry him again and this time you agreed. 

"Are you sure?" Jungkook questioned as you stood in front of him, dressed up fancy as the rest of the church looked on at you both for the ceremony to begin. 

"Jungkook, yes...I'm sure." You laughed softly at the thought of him asking you this now of all times. It had been this way since agreeing to marry him. He'd been asking you almost every day if you were sure you wanted to go through with it, your replying being "If it makes you happy, I will do anything for you." You smiled at him as the church all quietened down and it was just the two of you speaking to one another from the heart. You forgot about everyone else there and focused on him and him alone. 

Tagline: @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @rjsmochii​ @fan-ati--c​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​ @innersooya​ @sw33tnight​ @sweeneyblue1​ @agustdjoon​ @jin-from-the-block​ @acciocriativity​ @that-anxious-bisexual​ (If you would like to be added or deleted please message me)

[watermelonlipstick]

Septic

This was written as a request for anon, who asked:

I was wondering if I could request one with Dean. The reader's injury gets badly infected and she gets a high fever and they are stuck somewhere and can't go to the hospital (maybe a cabin during a snow storm or something else if you want?). Anyway her condition keeps getting worse and dean is doing everything he can to keep her alive? As for their relationship it's up to you, whether they're dating or hiding their feelings...?

I hope this is something along the lines of what you were thinking. I decided to go with a ‘hiding from Leviathans’ angle because that seemed the closest to canon compliant to me. Thanks in advance for reading; I would love any advice or critiques!!

Title: Septic

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2124

Summary: Unable to go to a hospital for fear of getting trapped by Leviathans, Dean tries his best to manage the reader’s worsening infection and fever. 

Warnings: fever, illness, swearing, implied threat of death, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff (maybe? if you squint)

           “Dude, I have a fever, I haven’t been decapitated. Can you stop pacing? Sam’ll be back in a couple days, I’ll take some Tylenol and sleep it off, we’ll be good as new in no time.”

           He glared down at you where you laid on Rufus’s couch with flared nostrils. “You’re shivering under every goddamn blanket in this place and it’s been 3 days already. We’re going to a hospital.”

           You rolled your eyes at him and tried to hide the way you snuggled deeper into the woolen bundle. “So dramatic. As if we wouldn’t get made walking in the door. And if you’re so worried about me, why don’t you make yourself useful and get me a hot water bottle and some tea?” You tried to give him your most casual smile in reassurance.

           Dean appraised you with a hard set to his jaw and a twinge of concern at his eyebrows for a moment before relenting. “Fuck, fine. One more day and if the fever hasn’t broken, then we’re going.” It was only a few steps to the kitchen, and you heard him putting a pot of water on to boil. “You sure I can’t just do coffee? I don’t know how you drink this stuff.”

           Like it always did, Dean’s aversion to tea made you laugh. “It’s literally just mint flavored water—you act like you haven’t drunk all kinds of potions and hangover cures.”

           “The fact that I have drunk all kinds of potions and hangover cures should show you how gross it is.” He tossed a hot water bottle covered in worn waxed canvas on top of your blankets and you shimmied it under your feet while he got the tea together. After a moment, he set the tea (and a plastic bear full of honey, which made you smile to yourself) on the coffee table next to you. “Can we at least watch something else? These chicks are driving me fucking nuts.”

           That made you laugh hard enough to shake loose the blanket corners tucked in under your chin. “You might be able to trick Bobby into thinking you don’t like the Real Housewives, but I’m not buying it for one second.”

           He shot you some side eye but didn’t protest, patting your feet in a signal to raise them so he could sit with your legs in his lap. You didn’t remember past the first few minutes of the next episode.

           “Hey, come on, you gotta drink something.”

           You squinted up at Dean, feeling the sickly stickiness of dried and re-soaked sweat in Dean’s stolen sweatshirt where it bunched around your neck. “You want me to sleep, you want me to wake up, pick a lane, asshole,” you tried to joke, feeling each word like a stab in your, well, stab wound. It took more focus than it should’ve too hold onto Dean’s face where he perched on the coffee table right in front of you.

           “You’ve been asleep for 16 hours, Rip Van Winkle. And you’re sweating like a whore in church, gotta rehydrate.”

           “Thanks, Nurse Ratched,” you croaked, carefully keeping your face neutral around the throbbing ache in your side as you sat up and accepted the bowl of broth from Dean. When his hands were free, he put the back of his hand to your forehead in a very maternal way that might’ve made you giggle if you weren’t in so much pain.

           Dean’s lips pressed into a tight line and he breathed a hard “fuck,” as he sat back. “Lemme see it.”

           “If you wanted to get me naked, all you had to do was ask,” you tried to joke.

           “No slick shit, I’m serious. The fever’s getting worse.” There wasn’t even a touch of playfulness in his tone, tight chord of anxiety clipping his words.

           “It’s going to be pink and raw like every other set of infected stit—”

           “Cooperate or don’t, but my bet is there’s no way you can slip out of getting pinned right now.”

           “Who knew you were so kinky, Dean?”

           He didn’t rise to the teasing at all, the just-this-side-of-friendly banter you normally had, and it made the nervous bile rise a few degrees in your throat. You eased back and slowly flipped down the blankets, immediately started shivering as you pulled up your damp layers to show him your stomach.

           It was worse than you’d thought it would be even before he tenderly pulled back the tape to see the injury itself, the gauze a mottled tie-dye of blood and greenish pus. The stitches strained against swollen, angry tissue oozing at the corners, and you looked away to hold onto a little denial that you weren’t completely fucked. “Jesus Christ, kid,” Dean murmured. He reached behind him for a bottle of rubbing alcohol and you didn’t even try to argue, hissing and grabbing his wrist when he poured it over the wound. Dabbing off the worst of the external mess with the moisture, you watched as his mind raced.

           You decided to try to grab the reins of the situation before he locked you both into a crazy plan. “Help me up, I want to take a shower. I feel disgusting.”

           “Can you even stand?”

           You rolled your eyes at him exasperatedly.

           “Roll your fucking eyes at me all you want, you look like Marvin the Martian. Can’t believe I let your dumb ass talk me out of taking you to a hospital.”

           “I’ve got a much better chance of beating a little infection than I do the combined force of however many Leviathans are looking for us and the full force of the federal government. Now get out of my way if you’re not going to help me up, I need a shower.”

           He pushed back the coffee table and watched you stand up, grabbing your arm and waist when you immediately swayed. “Goddamn it, sit back down, I’m getting your shoes.”

           “Dean. I am not going to a hospital. Especially not before Sam gets back. Not a negotiation. I just—you’re freaked out, I get it. I just need you to please let me call the play for once.”

           His jaw muscles tightened into firm balls and you could see the flare of panic behind his gaze as he flicked between your eyes. Ultimately he didn’t say anything, just giving you a tight nod and offering a hand to guide you up and to the bathroom. When you’d gotten there, he hovered in the doorway as you started to peel off layers, hoping that your leaning on the sink didn’t look as obvious as it felt. “Think I can take it from here, chief,” you offered, hoping he’d take the hint.

           “Not adding a head injury to this bullshit stew, sorry.”

           “No way, psycho. You’re not watching me shower.”

           His face screwed up in a scowl. “I’m not going to watch you shower, I’m just staying in here while you do in case you get dizzy again.”

           “Dude—”

           “Not a negotiation,” he growled, spinning your words back on you. You held each other’s stubborn gazes for a long beat before you gave in, getting in the tub and yanking the curtain closed with the rest of your clothes on, shucking the rest of them off and dropping them outside the tub behind the plasticized shield and curtain. You turned the water on and held onto the dial for support, hearing Dean’s movement in the bathroom as he sat down on the lidded toilet next to the shower. Laborious as it was, it felt a lot better getting clean. You’d started washing your hair when he started to talk.

           “You know what you’re asking me to do, right?”

           “Let me take a shower in peace?” You didn’t want to acknowledge the elephant in the room—what was the point?

           “If you’re not septic yet you will be in a day or two.”

           “By which time Sam will be back and you guys can strong arm some vet into giving me antibiotics like the mafiosos you fancy yourselves to be.”

           “Don’t deflect.” It was quiet but firm, and you blinked away the way your vision was starting to fuzz out at the edges. Something about it finally got you to drop the joking, if only for a second.

           “I know what I’m asking you to do.” You hoped he could hear the resolution in your voice.

           Dean was silent for a long enough beat that you thought maybe he hadn’t heard you, but you heard the roughness in his voice when he finally replied. “Please don’t make me?”

           The shower washed away a hot, stupid tear when it shot out of your eye like a kamikaze at his vulnerability. “I can’t be the reason you guys get caught.” You were clean now, but something about the confession-style quality of the shower curtain and the way it was letting both of you say what you really meant held you in the stream of water anyway.

           “I’m not—it’s going to fuck me up forever, you know that, right?” It was almost a grunt, the way Dean’s voice strained as he pleaded with you.

           “Long as you guys are alive.”

           He didn’t respond.

           After a long minute you felt your legs start to turn to jello. “You have something out there I can put on?”

           You heard him clear his voice, sticky and coarse. “Gimme a second.”

           A callused hand shot behind the shower curtain with a towel before Dean’s footsteps got quieter, and you tried your best to dry yourself off without stumbling. Not 15 seconds later, a bundle of clothes came in the same way. You smiled to yourself at your underwear and yoga pants with Dean’s t-shirt; he would’ve had to deliberately go into 2 different bags to get the clothes, no way it was an accidental grab. When you were dressed, you tugged the shower curtain back and didn’t argue when Dean wrapped his arm around your waist to ease you out of the tub, let him guide you back to the couch and fussily rearrange your blankets and pillows before he got out his first aid supplies.

           You watched his face as he worked on cleaning the wound again, knowing he just needed to be doing something, that he couldn’t just sit still and hope it got better. You could give him that, sat stock still even when it stung like a bitch and didn’t even tease him when he made you swallow a handful of vitamins as though that would help. Another cup of soup eaten silently and two mugs of tea later, your eyelids were beginning to droop again.

           “Tired?” he murmured, messing with the cover of the hot water bottle before ultimately getting up to refill it.

           “A little, yeah. Will you, um, will you sit with me?”

           Dean mercifully didn’t acknowledge the shake in your voice, nodding gently and sliding himself beneath you on the couch, tucking you under his arm and onto his chest, burrowing you both into the cushions. You reached your hand out of the blankets to place your palm over his heart, feeling the vibrating thrum of his pulse under your fingertips and cheek. His hand shifted so that he was smoothing the drying hair back from your temple, and after a few beats he bent his neck to kiss the crown of your head. The tenderness of it, the giving in to your request, pulled another tear out of your eye that fell straight into the cotton of Dean’ t-shirt underneath you.

           He sounded like he’d just woken up, that sleepy-syrupy sandpaper of a long night on his vocal cords. “You know, right? If it was going to be anyone for me, it would’ve been you?”

           The weight of it turned the blankets on top of you into a hug. You were nodding into him before you could speak, the tears turning your voice creaky-soft. “Same to you, dummy.” He chuckled once nostalgically at the ribbing, and you felt the rumble of it under you. “Thank you, Dean.”

           You felt the tension of the hiccupped breath before Dean got it under control to answer. “I love you, kid.”

           “Love you too.” It was the only thing to say, and neither of you had to answer or explain this undercurrent that had never been acknowledged so plainly before, no matter how rock solid it might’ve been for years. You laid there together for a long time, beating of Dean’s heart underneath you something constant to hold onto, warmth off his body better than any hot water bottle. The last thing you remembered before passing out was hearing Sam walk through the front door.

-

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[razorblade180]

A still moment

Aether:Thomaaaaa!

Thoma:Hehe hey, where’s the fire?

Aether:I need your help. It’s Ayaka’s birthday but I’m totally clueless on what to give her.

Thoma:Aren’t cakes your specialty?

Aether:Normally yes, but almost all of Inazuma has sent food, presents, letters, everything! Knowing her she wouldn’t reject one more, but I doubt all that food even makes it to her. And if it did, I bet she’d be full.

Thoma:Haha, yeah the people spare no expense when it comes to Lady Ayaka. Though if it’s a present you want to give her, then you’re already set. After all, you have something few in Inazuma have when it comes to her.

Aether:….oh!

xxxxx

Alone in her estate, Ayaka sat by the entrance to the garden, listening to the wind blow through the sakura blossoms. Her mind was so lost in thought she didn’t notice Aether tripping over all the gifts laying about the room until he finally sat beside her.

Ayaka:!? Aether! How long have you been sitting here?

Aether:Give or take a couple minutes. *rubs foot* I’m shocked you didn’t hear me. I think I may have damaged a gift. Sorry…

Ayaka:Hmm? Oh, I don’t particularly mind. Not the nicest thing to say maybe, but I wouldn’t fret over it too much. Most of it will probably get spread among the people discreetly or end up in storage.

Aether:I see. Looks like you have a system in place, so why do you look so sad? Not a fan of birthdays!

Ayaka: I wouldn’t go that far. I’m glad the people care, and I’ve never had ill feelings towards this day. As a matter of fact, I couldn’t help but stay up last night until midnight hit.

Aether:But…?

Ayaka:It can feel a little hollow at times. People leave gifts but this place remains devoid of the people who brought them. What were their exact expressions? Did they have more to say to me beyond a simple letter? Why go through the hassle for me? I’m often wondering these things. If I could, I’d wish for those over any gift. It’s why I’m happy you’re hear. *smiles*

Aether:We’ll if that’s the case, we can talk as long as you like.

And so they did. Hours upon hours they discussed anything and everything. Hopes, dreams, fears….;Ayaka allowed herself to truly let her hair down well into the night until the stars shined brightly.

Ayaka:Wait…so the lyre is actually still broken!?

Aether:Yeah….not looking forward to when the comes to light. I don’t think I can handle the moment the church finds out.

Ayaka:So many stories and adventures, and to think all in such a short time. Your adventures in Inazuma must seem docile in comparison when I think about it.

Aether:Hardly. I’ll remember this place as festive and tension filled. Not to mention the people here are pretty incredible, strong.

Ayaka:*red* How kind of you. We’re all the more stronger because your help. Now…the next leg of your journey awaits. I…probably shouldn’t hold you up too much longer.

Aether:Hmm? It’s fine. I’d spend all night here if you asked. Taking a moment with you, discussing it all, I haven’t gotten the opportunity much. I feel lighter because of it. Is that weird.

Ayaka:Hehe, not at all. I feel the same way. Tomorrow I won’t be able to leisurely sit here. It will be back to my normal routine. Not that I mind. Being able to spend a day with you as myself was more than I could’ve asked for. Thank you again.

Aether:Anytime. Birthday or any other day, I’m happy to spend time with you Ayaka.

Ayaka:…..Aether, if I may be so bold, may I ask for one gift? Can you….close your eyes?

Aether:My eyes? Umm okay. *closes eyes* like this?

Ayaka:Perfect….

Without a moment to waste, Ayaka leaned forward. Aether felt a warm and small hand press against the side of his face, then the subtle gentleness of Ayaka’s lips pressed against his. Aether’s heart nearly jumped out his chest from the shock. He wanted to open his eyes to see if this was really happening but kept to his word. That didn’t stop him from leaning forward, making the girl gasp when kissed her back. A few short moments later their kiss ended and Aether opened his eyes to see icy blue eyes right above a fan that did little to conceal Ayaka’s blush.

Ayaka:Your journey will take you far, and there are things in this world only you can do. Just like how I must do what only I can do for Inazuma, so don’t misunderstand my intentions. My feelings…I don’t expect nor wish for them to confine you here; frankly I thought to myself you’d reject them, but I went for it anyways. Because….I told you I wouldn’t live a life filled with regret. Aether I-

He put his finger on the fan, moving it aside. Ayaka felt her heart flutter as the traveler leaned in, his face as red as hers. Captivated by his gaze, she allowed herself to get drawn in.

Aether:You won’t burden me, and I wouldn’t dare burden you, so you’re right. Let’s not promise any uncertainties, but if I may be bold this time. It’s still your birthday, and I’m still right here.

Ayaka:No regrets~?

Aether:No regrets.

Tomorrow, life will go on and another step would be taken towards the dreams sought out. But for this one night all stood still, progress halted. Just this once…let there be rest, a still moment.