#you know. if the movie was longer and slightly deeper

[dellinah]

I know I literally made this but it’s still the fault of everyone else in this thread not mine

(mostly @wolfman-al​ whose fanart reminded me of this meme)

anyway we were robbed etc etc

I saw some really cute fanart of Maid Marian as a lioness and I just had to do this edit. (◕ ω ◕)

[homunculus-argument]

Honestly, "high art" of any kind isn't really any more or less incomprehensible or unapproachable than Tumblr meme culture. It's basically the same kind of thing, really, but with a longer time span and more reading to catch up to - things making references to things that were a thing earlier, and everyone kind of supposes that everyone who sees the work also has some background knowledge of the previous work being referred. Just imagine an art history teacher breaking down a tumblr post like

"...And here we see the next poster replying with this image. Here, this image of a statue has a very exact symbolic meaning. The figure of the statue is the Greek god Apollo, here in his role as a prophetic deity, which you may have concluded from the original post referring to future events that may or may not come to pass. In his hand, he is holding a dodgeball, raised on the level of his head, as if ready to throw it. The threatening aura of the image is multiplied by the way the statue's eyes have been edited to gleam omniously - the poster replying to the Original Post is expressing a symbolic, indirect threat, that the future that the Original Post's author described might come to pass, as if the patron deity of oracles had personally cursed the Original Poster to a fleeting gift of prophecy, as swift and brutal as being slammed with a dodgeball."

[scrolling down powerpoint presentation]

"...The second reply, here, has an image of a smiling woman wearing a helmet, standing in a row of people in similar uniforms. This reply requires some slightly deeper konwledge of Tumblr meme lore to understand - the image is a fragmet of a larger whole: a single frame of a gif, of a clip from the movie Starship Troopers. What is important here is the omitted context, which is the line that this nameless character famously says in the scene: 'I'm doing my part!' By posting this image, instead of the entire captioned gif, the replier highlights the implied obvious meaning behind it: They are not merely announcing their intention to actively work to see that the future that the Original Poster foresaw will come to pass, but wordlessly taunt them by implying 'you already know what I mean to do.' It is - in joking - a threat."

"And as you see here, the Original Poster has replied to these comments with a gif, which depicts an encounter between two robotic arms. The swift and dynamic action of the gif serves to express the OP's emotions, as the first robot represents the author themselves, and the second one is a stand-in for the two previous repliers. The way the first robot arm grabs the second one and starts beating it against the floor represents the author's anger. As surrogates for the two parties engaged in the conversation, the author is expressing their personal desire to grab the two previous posters and violently beat them against the floor."

[chosok-amo]

YOU ARE GOOD TO ME : RYOMEN SUKUNA

you came to your boyfriend’s apartment without him knowing you just got mistreated by your father, so he asked— no, he told you— you to live with him instead.

warning. non-sorcerer! sukuna, abusive parent, bruise, domestic violence (not by sukuna), slight angst, fluff, comfort.

you feel the burn all over your skin, the heat trapped under your jacket making every step feel heavier. each movement sends sharp stings through your body, but you keep going, your breaths shallow as you focus on reaching the familiar door ahead. the hallway feels longer than usual, each step echoing, your pace slowing as the pain worsens, but you press on, determined.

when you finally reach the door, you take a deep breath, gathering enough strength to gently knock, the sound soft against the quiet. moments later, the door creaks open, and you're met with the sight of ryomen sukuna, your boyfriend. his face, as usual, holds that natural, intimidating look, sharp and deadly with his tattoos lining his skin. the sight of him alone sends a wave of comfort through you, momentarily distracting you from the pain.

but even though his appearance would terrify anyone else, you know better. you see the subtle shift in his expression, the way his red eyes soften just the slightest bit, and the tension in his muscles loosens as soon as he sees you standing there.

“baby,” you greet him softly, managing a smile despite the burn gnawing at you. stepping forward, you move into his arms, the warmth of his body immediately easing some of the discomfort. his presence alone feels like a balm to your pain as you bury yourself into him, inhaling his familiar scent.

he doesn’t say anything at first, but his arms instinctively wrap around you, his hands surprisingly gentle despite his intimidating strength.

a wave of relief washed over sukuna as you fell into his arms, his usual stoic demeanor quickly faltering in your presence. his grip on you was tight, possessive, yet careful not to hurt you, fingers tracing slow, gentle circles on your back. his red eyes scanned your face, taking in the exhaustion that seemed to cling to you like a shadow.

“you look exhausted,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through his chest. though his words were blunt, there was a softness there, a hidden concern that only you ever got to see. “what happened?” his hands never stopped their slow, soothing movement against your back, his touch a perfect blend of tenderness and protection, a side of him he reserved solely for you.

you looked up at him, a small chuckle escaping your lips despite the pain still pulsing beneath your skin. “what do you mean?” you teased, your voice light and playful as you leaned back a little to meet his gaze. “nothing happened. i just missed my boyfriend.”

sukuna’s brows furrowed slightly, but before he could say anything, you gently pulled away from his hold, offering him a sly smile. you walked deeper into his apartment, the scent of him and the space immediately calming you further. making your way over to the couch, you sank into its cushions, letting out a small sigh as the tension in your body slowly began to unravel.

your eyes flicked toward the tv, noticing the movie playing in front of you, but your mind was only half-focused on it. instead, your attention kept shifting back to sukuna, who was still standing where you left him, watching you with that unreadable expression of his. though you could sense the concern lingering behind his sharp gaze, you knew better than to dwell on it. you just wanted to be close to him, and that was enough to ease the weight pressing down on you.

sukuna’s eyes followed your every move, sharp and observant. he was well-acquainted with your playful banter, the sly smiles and light teases you often threw his way. but beneath your usual demeanor, he sensed something was off about you. your steps were slower, your breaths came short and labored, and your skin was paler than usual. it took all of his self-control to keep his concerns in check, to not immediately pry further.

he slowly made his way toward the couch, dropping down beside you with a quiet huff, his gaze never leaving your face. the silence between you hung heavy as you shifted slightly on the couch, trying to find a more comfortable position, but the wince that followed didn’t go unnoticed by sukuna. his crimson eyes remained fixed on you, studying your every movement, the slightest flicker of discomfort sharpening his gaze. the deep, protective instinct within him stirred, a primal urge to pull you close, to shield you from whatever was causing your pain. his jaw clenched for a moment, fingers twitching as if to reach for you, but he stopped himself.

he knew you too well. he knew you weren’t someone who liked being coddled, that you thrived on your own strength, and he respected that deeply. but still, the desire to take care of you gnawed at him, a constant pull he couldn’t ignore. so instead of acting on it, sukuna leaned back into the couch, his arms draped casually along the backrest, though his eyes never left you.

you glanced up and caught his sharp stare, his silent concern almost palpable. a small chuckle escaped your lips, breaking the tension. “stop,” you teased softly, shaking your head with a smile, knowing exactly what he was thinking without him needing to say a word.

without waiting for his response, you shifted closer, your body pressing against his as you snuggled into him. the warmth of his chest was immediate, comforting in a way only sukuna could be. resting your head on him, you let out a content sigh, feeling his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek. his arm instinctively wrapped around you, pulling you in tighter, but it was gentle, protective in the way only he could manage.

you smiled to yourself, feeling the weight of the world slowly lift off your shoulders, soothed by the closeness you shared with him. “this is all i need,” you murmured softly, closing your eyes as you let yourself relax fully in his embrace.

sukuna tensed momentarily as you leaned into him, the warmth of your body against his felt like a drug. the protective instinct that always simmered beneath his hardened exterior flared up again, stronger than ever. but your words, so soft spoken yet full of conviction, made him swallow his urges.

he didn’t verbally respond, but his arm around you pulled you closer, his fingers tracing lazy patterns across your back. he let out a low hum, deep and soothing in his chest, his heartbeat a steady rhythm that seemed to resonate through you. as you settled further into his embrace, he fought the urge to shield you from the world, to keep you close and never let you go. but he knew he had to give you space, to let you be the strong person he knew you were. so instead, he adjusted his position, pulling you snugly onto his lap, his other hand coming up to lightly rest on your waist.

he leaned his chin against the top of your head, his eyes scanning the room, seemingly nonchalant, but deep down, he was hyperaware of every sound, every movement coming from you.

you stay in that position for what feels like hours, both of you letting the silence fill the space between the gentle rise and fall of your breaths. the soft flicker of the tv bathes the room in a dim light, but neither of you pays it any mind. instead, you remain curled up against him, your head resting heavily on his broad shoulder, nestled deep under the curve of his arm. his tattooed arms encircle you, strong and sure, their warmth seeping into your skin, grounding you in a way nothing else could.

there’s something about being in his presence that makes you feel invincible, like nothing in the world could touch you as long as he’s near. his aura, though intimidating to anyone else, is a shield for you, wrapping you in a sense of protection that leaves no room for fear. no matter how chaotic or exhausting your life may be, here, within the sanctuary of his arms, you are safe. the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear is a melody, soothing your frayed nerves, calming the pain that had followed you for so long.

every beat seems to echo in rhythm with your own, each one a silent promise—he will always be there, he will always protect you. you sink further into him, the warmth of his skin against yours making it impossible to let go, like you're tethered to him in a way words can't explain. you tighten your grip around his solid frame, your arms curling around his muscular body as if holding him closer could make this moment last forever.

his heartbeat is soft beneath your ear, like the most beautiful symphony, easing the storm inside you, soothing the ache in your bones. this man, who the world sees as cruel and monstrous, is your comfort in all the chaos. the paradox of it all makes you smile faintly, but your smile is more of a feeling—relief, peace, maybe even love—radiating from the inside out as you let out a slow breath, your body finally relaxing fully against him. his hand moves gently up and down your back, almost unconsciously, as if reassuring himself you’re still there with him.

without lifting your head, you speak softly, your voice barely more than a whisper, slightly muffled against the firmness of his chest. “can i stay the night?” you ask, your words carrying a vulnerability you only show him. “i don’t really want to go home... i miss you.”

your voice is so quiet, like a secret meant only for him, a soft plea slipping through the stillness of the room. you don’t need to look at him to know he heard you. you feel it in the way his arm tightens slightly around you, holding you closer as if to say you never have to ask. there’s no hesitation in the way he responds, though he says nothing aloud. the comfort of his embrace is his answer—yes, you can stay, and no, you don’t have to face anything alone.

and as you press your cheek against him, his chest rising and falling with each steady breath, you feel a peace that only he can give.

sukuna’s heart skipped a beat at your softly spoken words, a sharp tug of emotion pulling at his chest. there was a vulnerability in your voice, a quiet plea that he heard so clearly through the silence of the room. you didn't have to say much else. he had heard the exhaustion, the longing laced within each syllable.

he said nothing, his fingers continuing their steady path across the expanse of your back. he didn’t need to. the way he pulled you closer, the way his arms tightened around you, spoke more than enough. his answer, though unspoken, was clear as day.

his head dipped, resting gently against yours, the tender brush of his cheek against your hair sending a soft shiver down your spine. each slow, steady breath he took grazed your skin, a quiet reminder of how close he was, how perfectly in sync the two of you felt in that moment. his body, solid and warm, was like a wall of muscle and heat, grounding you with its unyielding strength. more comforting than any cushion, he was your refuge, your unbreakable fortress.

when he finally spoke, his voice rumbled through his chest, deep and resonant, sinking into the very core of you. “stay,” he said, the word carrying a weight far beyond its simplicity. it wasn’t just a request; it was an invitation wrapped in protection, a command softened by the love and care threaded within. there was no question, no other possibility in his mind. in his world, you staying wasn’t just allowed—it was inevitable, the only reality.

a soft hum escaped your lips, almost unbidden, as you melted deeper into his embrace, pressing closer to the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear. each beat was like a quiet lullaby, soothing the tension from your body, as if his very presence could make the world outside disappear. you nestled closer still, seeking his warmth, his solidity, knowing that in his arms, everything else could fade away.

“i love you,” you whispered, the words delicate, barely audible, almost swallowed by the quiet intimacy surrounding you. but in that moment, they felt heavier, deeper than ever before. it wasn’t just a declaration of love—it was an offering of trust, a confession of the comfort and safety you found in him. the three simple words wrapped around the both of you, holding more meaning than ever.

you felt him respond not with words but in the subtle tightening of his arms around you, the faint shift in his muscles as if your confession had reached a part of him that needed no verbal reply. in that quiet exchange, there was no need for further words. his presence, the way he held you closer, the quiet mingling of your breaths, was answer enough. you were home, wrapped in the quiet strength of his love.

sukuna’s heart stuttered in his chest, his breath momentarily hitching at the sound of your confession. those three words, spoken so softly, echoed through him like a powerful force, a reminder of the love that filled his world. you'd said it before, but this time, the meaning was different, deeper. it sank into the very core of his being, wrapping around him more firmly than ever before.

he pulled you closer if it was even possible, his hands gently running up your back, tracing soft patterns on your skin. “i love you too,” he finally murmured, the words coming out in a deep, gentle rumble. his voice was softer, quieter than usual, holding an edge of vulnerability that matched the fragility of the moment. he rarely uttered such sentiments, but with you, the words came easily, naturally. his heart was a fortress for most, but when it came to you, the walls crumbled, leaving behind only the raw truth of his feelings for you.

he nuzzled his face into your hair, inhaling your scent as if committing it to memory, the smell of you a soothing balm in his senses. your presence in his arms was a comfort unlike any other, a feeling he treasured more than anything.

sukuna’s hands continued their steady path across your back, his fingers tracing slow, soothing circles, as if trying to ease every bit of tension in your body. even he could feel your exhaustion, the way your body seemed to sag against him, seeking rest and solace.

“you’re tired,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear. it wasn’t a question, more of a statement, a gentle observation of the weariness he could feel radiating off you. he pulled you a fraction closer, one hand moving up to run through your hair in a slow, gentle motion.

you let out a heavy sigh, your breath mingling with the warmth of his chest. “just a little bit,” you whispered, though the fatigue in your voice betrayed you. the gentle motion of his hand through your hair sent a wave of comfort through your body, soothing the ache that had settled deep within. every touch from sukuna felt like an unspoken promise, as if he could take away all the weariness just by being there. you relaxed further into him, your body giving in to the comfort he offered, allowing the tension to melt away under his touch.

sukuna chuckled softly against your hair, the sound as deep and comforting as a gentle caress. “just a little bit,” he echoed your words, a hint of teasing in his voice. but there was understanding there too, a knowing that despite your nonchalance, you were more than just a ‘little bit’ tired.

he continued his comforting motions, his fingers idly tracing small, soothing patterns across your back, as if silently coaxing the tiredness from your body. “you’re terrible at lying, you know,” he said, the affection in his tone betraying his lighthearted chastisement.

you chuckled softly, the sound muffled against his chest, mirroring the warmth of his own laugh. slowly, you lifted your head, eyes meeting his intense gaze, the affection in his crimson eyes softening the usual sharpness they held. shifting slightly in his embrace, you reached up, cupping his cheek with one hand, your thumb brushing against the familiar lines of his tattoo.

“just a little bit,” you repeated, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of your lips, though the exhaustion in your eyes betrayed your playful words. you lingered there for a moment, your touch gentle, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, a quiet reassurance in the simple connection between you.

sukuna met your gaze, a flicker of a smirk pulling at the edge of his lips as your fingers found his cheek. the teasing banter between you never failed to amuse him, each exchange a silent dance only the two of you knew.

he raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly in mock skepticism. “keep telling yourself that, sweetheart,” he said, the nickname rolling effortlessly off his tongue, a rare slip from his usual intimidating demeanor. he leaned into your touch, his gaze never leaving yours. the softness in his eyes betrayed the hardness he showed the world, a side only you got to see.

you chuckled softly, the sound light but carrying a warmth that filled the space between you. then, with a playful frown, you tilted your head and let out a mock sigh, pouting as you teased, “you’re so hard to pleased, you know that?” your tone was dripping with playful sarcasm, your lips forming a small pout as your fingers still rested gently on his cheek.

the pout deepened, your eyes narrowing slightly in exaggerated frustration, but the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth gave you away. you watched his reaction carefully, knowing how much he secretly enjoyed these moments of teasing, even if he pretended otherwise.

sukuna let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. you were a master at playing him, knowing exactly how to get a rise out of him and how to soften his edges. your pout was adorable, though he'd never admit it aloud.

he leaned in, mere inches from your face, his eyes narrowing in response to your faux frustration. “keep going like this and you won’t satisfy me for a long time,” he warned, his voice a low, gravelly whisper, carrying a hint of a threat.

sukuna’s eyes flicked down to your lips momentarily, watching as they formed your small pout. a flicker of desire flashed through his eyes, a silent admission of his own growing impatience. the tension between you was tangible, an invisible current that seemed to crackle with each silent exchange.

he raised one hand, his thumb gently tracing the edge of your bottom lip, the rough pad of his finger barely touching your skin yet sending a shiver down your spine. “keep making that face at me and see where it gets you,” he murmured, his voice low and hoarse, a promise as much as a warning.

your playful frown deepened at his words, and you looked up at him with wide eyes, your pout accentuating your playful tone as you replied, “so scary.” despite the lightness of your words, a thrill ran through you at his intensity, the way he seemed to revel in the tension that hung between you.

before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, the softness of the moment contrasting with the heat of the teasing banter. it was a fleeting connection, but it sent a rush of warmth through you, leaving a lingering smile on your lips as you pulled back, your heart racing at the daring gesture.

sukuna smiled softly, a warmth spreading through him as he felt your lips against his, even if just for a brief moment. a low hum of satisfaction rumbled in his chest, the sound a quiet acknowledgment of the connection you shared. his thumb grazed your cheek, a tender gesture that made your heart flutter, and before you could fully comprehend the shift, he pulled you closer, sealing the space between you with a deeper kiss.

this time, his lips moved against yours with a gentle fervor, as if savoring the sweetness of the moment. the kiss was tender, a stark contrast to the teasing banter that had just filled the room, and you felt yourself melt into him, the world outside fading away as you lost yourself in the softness of his touch. it was a kiss that spoke volumes—of affection, of longing, and of the unbreakable bond that tethered you to one another.

sukuna’s hands shifted slightly, one cupping the back of your head, holding you to him as he deepened the kiss further. each gentle caress of his lips was a promise, an unspoken declaration of love. he could feel your body relaxing against him, the tension of the day melting away as you gave in to the tenderness of the moment.

after what seemed like an eternity but was mere seconds, he slowly pulled away, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to regulate his breathing. his touch was still gentle, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your cheek.

“don’t pout at me again,” he mumbled, his lips ghosting against your own as he spoke, “unless you want me to do something about it.”

there was a huskiness in his voice that betrayed his own growing desire for more, a hint of the possessive nature that simmered just beneath his stoic demeanor. his body trembled almost imperceptibly, a physical response to your closeness, to the way you affected him.

sukuna’s eyes flickered open, their usual intensity replaced with a softer, gentler look as he took in the sight of you so close to him, so visibly affected by his touch. he could see the flush on your cheeks, the way your eyes seemed to sparkle with a mixture of surprise and affection.

he shifted slightly, his other arm moving around your waist, pulling you even closer as he leaned in, his lips gently tracing the line of your jawline, moving down to the soft skin of your neck. sukuna's breath was warm against your skin, his lips leaving a trail of soft kisses, each one a declaration of his affection. his lips lingered on the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder, his teeth gently grazing your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

he pulled back slightly, admiring the mark he had just left. satisfaction gleamed in his eyes, a possessive look that said you were his, in every way that mattered. he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, the warmth of his lips sending a wave of comfort through you. he pulled you closer, your bodies fitting together perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle. in that moment, the world outside faded into silence, and nothing else mattered but the intimacy shared between you.

you melted against him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear, a soothing reminder of his presence. words felt unnecessary, too loud and clumsy to capture the depth of what you both felt. instead, you exchanged quiet moments, your actions speaking volumes as you reveled in the softness of his embrace, feeling safe and cherished in his arms. each breath you took together felt like a silent promise, a testament to the bond that connected your hearts in an unspoken understanding.

sukuna held you tight against him, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back, a soft and soothing rhythm that seemed to seep into your very soul. he could feel the tension leaving your body, your muscles relaxing against him, your breathing growing slower, more steady.

he pressed another gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment as if to memorize the feel of your skin. “you’re tired,” he whispered, the statement a gentle reminder that you needed rest. there was no need for more words—the intimacy of the moment spoke louder than any words ever could.

you fell asleep on his couch, the gentle rise and fall of your breathing creating a soothing rhythm in the quiet room. sukuna, wanting to continue watching the game, decided to let you rest a little longer. he slipped away to his room to grab a soft blanket, planning to drape it over you without disturbing your peaceful slumber.

as he returned, a warmth spread through him at the sight of you curled up, lost in dreams. however, when he leaned down to drape the blanket over your body, he noticed the way your jacket had shifted. he gently tugged it off, careful not to wake you, but the sight of your bare arms beneath your baby tee made his heart drop.

his gaze fell upon a bruise near your shoulder, dark and angry against your skin. a frown tugged at his lips as he continued to inspect your arm, revealing more bruises scattered across your skin. horror crept into his red eyes, tightening in his chest at the realization of how hurt you were.

setting your jacket aside, he gently lifted your shirt, revealing your stomach that bore similar marks of pain—purple and red bruises that told a silent story of struggle. a surge of protectiveness washed over him, anger simmering beneath the surface as he struggled to comprehend how you had gotten hurt like this. in that moment, all thoughts of the game vanished, replaced by an overwhelming urge to shield you from harm and ensure that you were safe.

with a frown etched on his face, sukuna settled onto the coffee table beside the couch, his gaze fixed on your sleeping form. you looked peaceful, curled up like a little cat, completely unaware of the turmoil brewing in his heart.

he was aware of your abusive father and had heard fragments of your struggles, but seeing the bruises that marred your skin brought a new wave of rage and sadness crashing over him. the vivid impressions left on your body were a stark reminder of the pain you endured, igniting a fierce protectiveness within him. the realization of how deep the abuse ran made his blood boil, a tempest of anger simmering just beneath the surface.

rising from his seat, he gently shifted you onto your side, cradling you with care as he lifted your shirt. he hoped to find nothing but smooth skin, but instead, his heart sank at the sight of a large bruise on your back. understanding flooded in as he recalled the way you had winced at his gentle touches. the thought that someone could hurt you like this twisted in his gut, a knot of frustration and sorrow.

sukuna returned to his spot on the coffee table, his eyes drifting back to your face. you appeared so calm and innocent, a stark contrast to the pain hidden beneath the surface. he blinked rapidly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill, his fingers instinctively brushing your hair away from your face. in that moment, he vowed to himself that he would do everything in his power to protect you, to be the shield against the darkness that had touched your life. no one would ever lay a hand on you again.

the game faded into oblivion as sukuna carefully lifted your body into his arms, his heart swelling with a fierce protectiveness. he cradled you against him, feeling the weight of your vulnerability as he carried you to his bedroom. each step was deliberate, as if he feared jostling you from your peaceful slumber.

once he reached the bed, he gently laid you down, ensuring you were comfortable before settling beside you. he pulled the blanket over both of you, wrapping you in warmth and security. the soft fabric cocooned you, shielding you from the world outside as he tucked you in close, his presence a silent promise of safety.

with you nestled against him, sukuna let out a soft sigh, his fingers gently brushing over your hair. the tranquility of the moment enveloped him, and he found solace in just being there with you, a protective guardian in the quiet night. he would watch over you, ensuring that no harm would come your way, determined to create a space where you could feel safe and loved.

sukuna allowed the silence to settle around you, the only sound being the steady rhythm of your breath, in unison with his own. he held you close, his arms encircling you protectively, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back.

he found himself lost in thought, the image of your bruised body replaying in his mind incessantly. the knowledge of your abuse and the extent of your suffering cut through his heart like a knife, the pain of it nearly suffocating. he shifted slightly, pulling you deeper into his embrace, as if by doing so he could erase the shadows that plagued your life.

the room was hushed, the silence interrupted only by the whispered sound of your breathing. his eyes flicked down to you, studying your face, the way your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks as you slept. the sight of you, tucked against him, sparked a possessive feeling within him, a burning need to keep you safe and away from harm.

he felt the weight of his own promise, the vow he had made to himself to shield you from the suffering you had endured. sukuna pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment, as if sealing the commitment with a silent gesture. “you will be alright, i’ll make sure of it,” he whispered to your forehead before giving you another kiss.

sukuna’s words hung in the air, a silent vow spoken against the soft skin of your forehead. he continued to hold you, his arms wrapped protectively around you like a shield, his body radiating warmth and comfort.

his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions—anger at those who had hurt you, sadness at the suffering you had endured, and above all, a fierce determination to protect you. his hold on you tightened slightly, as if to drive his point home more effectively. he placed another gentle kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering there as he whispered once more, “i promise.”

it was the next morning when you found yourselves in sukuna’s living room, the soft light filtering through the windows casting a warm glow around you. the moment you woke up and realized your jacket was no longer draped over you, a rush of understanding washed over you—you knew he had seen the bruises.

the air was thick with unspoken words as you sat curled up on the couch, your knees tucked tightly to your chest. sukuna sat across from you on the coffee table, his presence both comforting and imposing. his large hand enveloped yours, his thumb tracing gentle patterns across your skin, grounding you in the moment.

“live with me,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. there was no hint of anger in his tone, no questions pressed upon you like weights. instead, there was a calm acceptance, an understanding that filled the space between you. he didn’t need you to explain, didn’t demand answers. he simply knew—knew that you would share when you were ready.

right now, all he wanted was to ensure you felt safe. his eyes were soft, filled with an earnestness that made your heart flutter. it was an offer laced with protection and care, a sanctuary away from everything that had hurt you. you felt the weight of his words, the promise behind them, and for the first time in a long time, you felt the flicker of hope ignite within you.

he added, “i’ll keep you safe, with me,” he murmured, his crimson irises locking onto yours with a fierce intensity.

as you looked into those depths, you saw nothing but love and a fierce protectiveness that wrapped around you like a warm embrace. it was a promise, a vow that resonated deep within you. the weight of his words settled in your heart, easing the tension that had built up inside.

after a moment of stillness, you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper as you replied, “okay.” it was a simple word, yet it carried so much—acceptance, trust, and a tentative hope for the future. in that moment, you knew you weren’t alone anymore. with sukuna by your side, you could finally begin to heal.

sukuna's heart felt like it might overflow as you uttered that simple word—"okay." it was a fragile, tentative agreement, but it meant the world to him. the weight of your trust, the acceptance in your voice, settled over him like a protective veil, giving him strength and purpose.

he tightened his grip on your hand, bringing it up to press it against his cheek. closing his eyes for a moment, he savored the feel of your touch, relishing in the knowledge that you had chosen to let him in, to let him take care of you.

sukuna opened his eyes again, his gaze never leaving yours. there was a vulnerability in his expression, a hint of raw emotion beneath the surface of his usual stoicism.

“thank you,” he murmured, his voice gruff yet filled with a tenderness he rarely allowed himself to show. he lifted your hand to his lips, brushing a kiss against your knuckles. it was a silent gesture of gratitude, for trusting him, for allowing him to be your safe haven.

you pulled your hand gently from his and leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. the warmth of his body was immediate, grounding you in the present moment. your cheek rested against him as you closed your eyes, breathing in his familiar scent.

“thank you,” you whispered softly, your voice filled with gratitude and emotion. the words were simple, but they carried the weight of everything you felt—your appreciation for his unwavering presence, his strength, and the safe space he had become for you. in his arms, you finally felt like you could breathe.

sukuna’s heart ached at the sound of your whispered words. he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer into his lap, holding you tight against him. he buried his face in your hair, breathing you in, relishing the feeling of your warm body against his.

he held you like that for a moment, in silence, letting the gravity of the moment sink in. then, he pulled back slightly, his hands cupping your face, forcing you to look at him. “i’m going to take care of you now,” he said, his voice a low, firm promise.

your arms remained loosely wrapped around his neck, your eyes locking onto his. the intensity in his gaze made your heart skip a beat, but there was a softness there too—something rare, something that only you ever got to see. a small smile tugged at your lips when his fingers slid through your hair, carefully tucking a loose strand behind your ear. the gesture was tender, intimate, a silent promise in itself.

“why don’t you take a shower?” he suggested softly, his voice steady and calm, though you could sense the concern in it. “i’ll make you breakfast. then we’ll head out and get a few things for you.”

the warmth of his touch and the reassurance in his words made you feel safe, truly safe, as if everything might finally be okay. you nodded, still smiling, your fingers gently tracing the back of his neck before you whispered, “okay.”

sukuna nodded in response, his eyes flickering over your form, his gaze tracing every contour, every bruise on your skin beneath the fabric of your clothes. there was a simmering anger in him, a seething possessiveness that flared up at the sight of your wounds, but he shoved it down, focusing on the present moment instead.

he gently caressed your hair one last time before releasing you from his lap, his hands resting on your hips, giving them a tender squeeze. “go on,” he murmured, the huskiness in his voice betraying a hint of his desire to keep you close.

sukuna watched as you stood from his lap, letting his hands linger on your hips for a few moments longer than necessary. he found it difficult to tear his eyes away from you, every instinct in him screaming to keep you near. but he knew you needed some space to process and freshen up, especially after the night you had. he released you, reluctantly letting his hands fall away from your body, as you turned and padded out of the room. a pang of loneliness hit him as soon as you were out of sight, the absence of your presence making his chest feel strangely hollow.

while you were in the shower, sukuna made his way to the bedroom, his steps purposeful but his mind spinning. he entered his walk-in closet and grabbed some clothes for you—one of his oversized shirts and a pair of sweatpants. his fingers paused on the shelf, eyes lingering on the empty space he had cleared out for you just hours ago. when he woke up in the middle of the night, restless and unable to sleep, he’d wandered around the apartment, preparing a place for you, mentally moving things, physically rearranging others. the thought of you being here permanently had taken root, growing stronger with each passing hour.

as he grabbed the clothes, he couldn’t help but think of how simple yet monumental it felt to make space for you, not just in his home but in his life. it wasn’t something he had ever done for anyone else. but for you, he was ready.

walking into the kitchen, sukuna set to work making breakfast, though his hands moved almost mechanically. his mind was somewhere else entirely. underneath the surface of his calm exterior, a storm raged, wild and violent. every time he thought of the bruises he’d seen on your body, his blood boiled. he wanted nothing more than to storm into your house and beat your father to a pulp, to make him pay for every ounce of pain he’d caused you. but he stopped himself. he knew, as much as he craved that vengeance, it wouldn’t help. it would only add to the chaos in your life, and the last thing he wanted was to cause you more stress.

he inhaled deeply, pushing the anger down for now. for your sake, he had to remain calm, had to be the steady presence you needed. with that thought, he flipped the eggs in the pan and continued making breakfast, his mind fixed on the promise he made to you. he’d take care of you now.

as sukuna finished cooking breakfast, he plated the food and placed it on the table, his thoughts still troubled. he glanced up when he heard footsteps approaching, spotting you entering the kitchen, his over-sized shirt hanging loosely on your petite frame, making you look even more fragile.

his eyes fixated on a particularly large bruise on your collarbone, visible above the neckline of the shirt. the sight of it sent another surge of anger through him, but he forcefully tamped it down, schooling his features into a neutral expression.

you walked into the kitchen, sukuna’s oversized shirt hanging loosely on you, your damp hair still clinging to your neck. your smile was soft as your eyes landed on him, and despite everything, you managed to find comfort in his presence. stepping closer, you wrapped your arms around his side, nuzzling into him as you breathed in the scent of breakfast.

“smells good, baby,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his shirt. you tilted your head slightly to look up at him, your smile warm despite the tiredness in your eyes.

sukuna’s gaze softened when you hugged him, his hand instinctively coming to rest on the small of your back, holding you there for a moment. he forced the storm of anger back, focusing only on the tenderness of the moment. “it’ll taste even better,” he replied, his voice gentle.

sukuna gently ran his hand over your back, his fingers tracing small, soothing circles on your skin. his touch was light, almost hesitant, as he fought against the urge to pull you tightly against him, to feel the tangible proof of your presence.

the sight of you, so small and vulnerable, wrapped up in his clothes, stirred something primal within him. he wanted nothing more than to shield you from the world, to make sure no one would ever hurt you again. he leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “let’s eat.”

you both sat at the dining table, the smell of the warm breakfast filling the room. the plates were set, and the atmosphere was lighter, though the weight of everything that had happened still lingered in the background. sukuna leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed loosely as he looked at you, a small smirk on his lips.

“so, what’s the plan for today?” he asked casually, though his tone hinted at something more — his desire to make sure you felt safe and comfortable.

you glanced at him, thoughtfully poking at your food with your fork before smiling softly. “maybe we can start by getting a few of my things? i can’t keep borrowing your clothes forever,” you teased, although a part of you relished the comfort of being wrapped in something that belonged to him.

sukuna chuckled at your response, glad to see you could still crack a joke, even after everything. his gaze softened as he watched you poke at your food, thinking of a way to make the day as stress-free as possible.

he leaned his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers under his chin thoughtfully. “that’s not a bad idea,” he said, a little grin forming on his lips. “but you look so good in my clothes, i might have trouble letting you wear anything else.”

you hummed, a small, amused smile forming on your lips as you placed a piece of egg into your mouth. after chewing, you raised an eyebrow and said, “i always look good, but... i also need my underwear and, you know, everything important.” your voice was light, playful, but there was a truth behind your words.

sukuna chuckled again, the sound low and rich, full of mirth. the tension in the room eased slightly as you engaged in the small banter.

he raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, resting his chin in one hand. his gaze was half-lidded, a smirk playing on his lips. “and if i say no? what are you gonna do then?” he teased, his tone filled with mock seriousness.

you chuckled, meeting his half-lidded gaze with a playful glint in your eyes. “oh, i’ll just walk around the apartment naked,” you teased back, your tone light and mischievous. the words slipped out easily, a deliberate attempt to break the lingering tension between you both.

sukuna’s smirk widened, his eyes sparkling with amusement at your response. he leaned back in his chair, resting his hands on the arms of the seat.

“oh really?” he drawled, drawing out the word as he tilted his head slightly. he let his eyes wander over your form, taking in the sight of you in his oversized clothes. “as much as the thought of that pleases me, i don’t think i’d get any work done, sweetheart.”

you chuckled softly as you leaned closer to sukuna, your movements slow and deliberate, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. “that’s exactly why we need to get my things first,” you whispered, your lips barely brushing his skin as you spoke, your voice carrying a teasing tone.

pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, your eyes sparkled with amusement as you added, “we can’t have you getting distracted all day, now can we?” your playful smile lingered as your hand briefly rested on his arm before you stood up, signaling your readiness to start the day.

before you could move far, sukuna shifted, his hand reaching out to pull you gently so that you stood between his legs. his presence was grounding, and as you placed your thumb lightly against his forehead, you leaned in to give him a soft kiss there. “you’ve been good to me,” you murmured, your voice full of affection, a quiet appreciation for the way he was looking out for you.

sukuna's heart skipped a beat at your words, the tenderness in your voice making his chest feel tight. he relished in the feeling of your touch against his cheek, the press of your lips against his forehead.

he wrapped his arms around you, drawing you closer between his legs. your small frame fit perfectly in the circle of his embrace, and he inhaled deeply, taking in your scent, letting it soothe his restless mind.

“you deserve nothing less,” he murmured, his voice gruff with unspoken emotions. he leaned his forehead against your stomach, nuzzling gently into the fabric of his shirt that you were wearing

for a moment, you stood still between his legs, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the weight of his head resting against your stomach. your eyes softened as you looked down at him, gently running your fingers through his hair and along his back in slow, soothing strokes.

you leaned down slightly, planting a few tender kisses on the top of his head, each one filled with quiet affection. you could feel the tension in his body start to ease under your touch, the weight of the world he often carried seeming just a little lighter in this moment of intimacy.

sukuna let out a soft sigh as you ran your fingers through his hair, his eyes fluttering closed as he basked in the feeling of your touch. every kiss you placed on his head was like a balm that eased the tension in his muscles, the ache in his heart.

he wrapped his arms tighter around you, pulling you impossibly closer, his body molding itself around you. he inhaled deeply, your scent filling his lungs, grounding him, centering him. he whispered your name, his voice a low, ragged murmur against your stomach.

he pressed a kiss against your stomach, the contact firm and deliberate, almost as if he was trying to imprint himself onto your skin. his hands moved to your hips, his fingers gripping a little tighter, as if he was afraid you might disappear if he let go. he pulled back just enough to look up at you, his eyes tracing over your face, taking in every little feature, every small bruise that littered your skin, a silent reminder of the pain you’d endured. and yet, despite it all, you were still here, standing in front of him.

anger flared up in him again at the sight of those bruises, a snarl forming on his lips. he hated how fragile you looked, how vulnerable. the protective instinct in him flared up, making him want to storm into your father's house and beat him senseless. but he knew that wouldn't solve anything. all it would do is add to your stress, something he desperately wanted to avoid. so he simply held you tighter against him, his voice barely above a growl.

“this is the last time he lays a hand on you.”

you nodded silently, your fingers threading gently through his hair, the soft strands slipping between your fingertips. you could feel the tension radiating off him, his muscles coiled tight beneath your touch as if he were holding back a storm. but your voice was calm, steady, as you whispered, “i’m safe now... now that i’m with you.”

your words seemed to soften the edge of his anger, and you leaned into his hold, letting the warmth of his body envelop you. the intensity of his protectiveness made you feel secure, knowing that, with him, you no longer had to fear what lay outside his walls.

sukuna leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as he savored the gentle pull of your fingers through his hair. your words, soft and steady, washed over him like a soothing balm, extinguishing the fire of his anger.

he rested his forehead against your stomach, his shoulders relaxing fractionally. he held you tighter, his hand moving up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in the damp locks of your hair. “you always will be,” he replied firmly, his voice a low rumble against your skin.

he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes tracing over your features, taking in the way they softened under his touch. he brought one hand up to cup your face, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek.

the sight of those goddamned bruises made him want to tear something apart, but he held back, his anger replaced by a fiercely protective instinct. he ran his thumb over a particularly dark bruise, his touch light but filled with an aching tenderness. “promise me,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“promise me,” he repeated, his gaze locking with yours. “promise me that no one will ever touch you like this again, that you’ll let me take care of you from now on.” he was demanding, commanding, his grip on your face firm but not painful. he needed to hear the words, to know that you were his now, that you would come to him when things got rough.

“promise me you won’t let him near you again,” he continued, his hand moving from your face to rest against your chest, his palm flat over your heart. “promise me you’ll never go back there.” the thought of you going back to that hellhole filled him with an icy dread, a clenching fear in his gut. he could not, would not, let anything happen to you again. even the thought made his blood run cold.

you nodded slowly, the weight of his words sinking deep into your chest. his intensity was overwhelming, but it was laced with such fierce protectiveness that it made you feel safe. with a sad, soft smile, you reached up to place your hand over his, feeling the warmth of his palm against your heart.

“promise,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, but it was enough to make him relax ever so slightly. you could see the tension in his jaw ease as he exhaled, his fingers curling gently around yours.

“i won’t go back there,” you added quietly, your thumb brushing against his hand in a silent vow. “i’m here now, with you.” the truth of that statement grounded you both, a small sense of peace settling between the two of you as you held onto each other.

sukuna felt a flood of relief wash over him as your voice, soft and sincere, echoed your promise. his grip on your hand tightened slightly as he pulled you closer, his hold almost possessive, as if to ensure you would keep your word.

he let out a shuddering breath, the adrenaline and the raw emotion of the moment finally catching up to him. he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes closing as he inhaled deeply. “you’re mine now,” he murmured, his voice rough with feeling. “mine to protect, mine to keep safe. no one else’s.”

he ran his free hand down your back, his fingers tracing gentle circles over your spine. the gesture was meant to soothe, to ground him as much as it was to soothe you. he felt the need to touch you, to feel the warmth of your skin under his fingers, a tangible proof that you were really there, safe in his embrace. “and i’m yours, sweetheart,” he added, his eyes opening to fix you with an intense gaze. “mine to care for, mine to love. no one else’s.”

he leaned in, pressing his lips gently against the bruise on your collarbone. the kiss was light, almost reverent, but there was a hint of possessiveness in the way he held you tight against him. he pulled back just enough to speak, his voice low and firm. “i’m staying with you today.” he left no room for argument in his tone, his decision final. “and from now on, you’re coming home to me every night.”

your smile was soft, but your eyes, despite the exhaustion weighing them down, sparkled with a happiness that couldn't be hidden. his words, his unwavering support, and protectiveness wrapped around you like a warm blanket, easing the ache inside your heart. you leaned in closer, your arms sliding around his neck, pulling him into a gentle embrace.

nodding, you whispered, “i like that,” your voice full of quiet relief and contentment. resting your forehead against his, you closed your eyes for a moment, letting the comfort of being in his arms wash over you. being with him, knowing he’d protect you, made you feel safer than you had in a long time.

sukuna’s arms wrapped around you almost instinctively, pulling you flush against him. one hand came up to cradle the back of your head, the other resting at the small of your back, his fingers splayed across your skin.

he savored the feel of your body against his, the way you fit perfectly in his embrace, as if you were made to be there. he inhaled deeply, his chest expanding with the motion, his nose buried in the warm, familiar scent of your hair. he stayed like that for a long moment, just holding you, relishing the simple pleasure of having you close, safe and his. he could feel the steady thump of your heartbeat against his chest, the rhythm of it slowly syncing with his own, a reassurance that you were here, alive, and most importantly, that you were his.

the knowledge sent a thrill through him, a mix of pride and affection, that you belonged to him now, that you trusted him to take care of you. it ignited a primal need within him, a compulsion to keep you as close as possible, to ensure that no one could ever hurt you again.

“you’re so goddamned precious it’s almost ridiculous,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear. his fingers moved idly against your back, tracing small circles against your skin as he held you.

he couldn’t help the surge of possessiveness that coursed through him as he held you. the idea of someone, anyone, daring to lay a hand on you, to cause you pain and fear, made his blood boil. he swore to himself right then and there that he would do anything, anything at all, to keep you safe.

[hawkinsbnbg]

Steve was a late bloomer. He didn't expect to present as an omega right after seeing a bloody Eddie Munson into the ER.

His biological changes weren't a problem at first. He found his perky tits and even newly-slit cunt easily acceptable. They just felt right on his body.

His peace only lasted until he visited Eddie in the hospital and slicked his underwear beyond repair.

It was embarrassing and also pathetic because he was quite certain Eddie didn't want him that way.

He knew the alpha just flirted with him for fun like everyone else.

To fix it, Steve began wearing scent blockers religiously, dressing in more layers, and using pads to keep his slick from leaking out and ruining the sterilized air.

So far, it was a success. No one batted an eye when he got a little wet whenever he sat beside Eddie's bed.

Even Robin—his platonic soulmate who had always been in tuned with him—didn't pick up his inappropriate behavior.

As for Eddie, the alpha just became friendlier with him; kissing his hands, giving him more flatteries, hugging him tighter and longer than the others, etc.

Though Steve was flustered by the new development, he reminded himself that it likely meant nothing to Eddie.

Still, he couldn't stop finding excuses to see Eddie nearly every day.

Eventually, Eddie was discharged, went through every PT session with admirable strength and determination, and recovered beautifully.

They held a party to celebrate it and Steve was rosy cheeked with joy when Eddie stuck by his side the whole time. And even followed him everywhere like a lost puppy.

It was cute.

Even though Robin kept saying otherwise.

Eddie seemed to decide they were best friends now. Because wherever Steve went, the alpha would be right beside him.

Steve didn't find it as annoying as he had thought. Since Robin and Vickie were in their moonstruck phase, she couldn't spend as much time with him anymore.

He was happy for her, but it was also kinda lonely. A problem that Eddie's constant presence had quickly resolved.

They would hang out and do everything together; cooking, doing chores, listening to the music, watching movies, getting high, and even sleeping.

It wasn't right for an unmated omega to get so close to an unmated alpha, but their bond ran deeper than their carnal instincts. A few cuddles wouldn't hurt their friendship.

Or so Steve told himself.

Because he had to change his panties at least thrice a night before going to bed to not disturb his friend with his situation.

"Where are you goin'?" Eddie muttered sleepily just as Steve tried to get out the alpha's arms.

On the other hand, his body had been acting weird lately. Producing more slick than usual and becoming more sensitive.

It might be his fault for letting Eddie into his nest all the time, but it wasn't like he could help it, either.

Jesus. Even Eddie's raspy voice already made his cunt pulse with want.

Steve felt thankful that he didn't give up his scent blockers. Otherwise, he'd no doubt smell like a bitch in heat right now.

"Nature's call," Steve mumbled, frowning slightly when Eddie's hold just got tighter around him and the musky scent grew thicker.

"'S your slick, isn't it?" Hot lips pressed to his ear, making him stop cold. "Yeah, I can smell it. Been wanting to taste how sweet you are, omega."

Steve gulped dryly, his brain turned hazier and hazier with lust. And yet...

"W– Why didn't you say anything?"

"And chased you off?" Eddie chuckled and squeezed a hand between his thighs, feeling his wetness and scratching his clit lightly through the cotton. "No way, baby."

Steve closed his eyes and drew in a shaky breath, choking on the scent of a very aroused and virile alpha.

He didn't know why his blockers didn't work, but the heat of Eddie's palm on his clothed cunt was distracting enough that he just stopped questioning it altogether.

"Be gentle with me," he craned his neck to meet those dark wild eyes.

"You got it, angel," Eddie rolled him on his back and kissed him sweetly. "Gonna worship your pretty cunt for the rest of my life."

And Eddie did.

Eating him out every given chance and everywhere; on the bed, in the kitchen, in the back of the van, on the couch, in the shower.

And when Steve's heat arrived a few days later, Eddie had happily stayed up all night just to suffocate in the sea of slick before knotting him over and over again in the morning.

Which, consequently, triggered the alpha's rut and led to Steve being kept in bed for another week.

And by the end of it all, he was thoroughly bred and ravaged.

Eventually, Steve figured it out once they became mates. His blockers still worked just fine.

Eddie was the problem.

He was a horn dog who had sniffed out Steve's slick and got addicted to it.

But fortunately, Eddie had agreed to make do with his used panties whenever Steve was too sore to let him near his cunt.

The only problem was that Steve now had to guard his favorite pairs very closely.

[sturnioz]

"don't feel nothin' towards the kid" huh. well maybe shy!reader overheard him say that n gets rlly sad bc she's falling for him :(( n when fratboy!chris tries to talk to her she shuts down because she thinks he doesn't like her :/ idk i'm hungry for some angst

note. kinda went long n angsty on this one. i am sorry (im not actually im really not)

you shouldn't be upset. truthfully, a part of you knows you have no right to feel this way. your friend had warned you from the start that chris wasn't the relationship type — that he prefers meaningless hook-ups over commitments and feelings.

but hearing him say it blatantly out loud, it stung, tearing through you like a jagged knife. the weight of his words settled on you heavily, each syllable echoing in your mind, and you felt your sensitive heart shatter into pieces., leaving a hallow ache in your chest and a lump in your throat, tight and suffocating.

your tears were already spilling over and dripping down your cheeks as you solemnly turn around make your way back up to his room, the dim light of the hallway making you feel even more suffocated. you wanted to go leave, to go home to the comfort of your own room, but your car wasn't here and the darkness outside was too frightening for you to walk alone.

you sank down onto the bed, pulling at a loose thread on your sweater, each tug a desperate attempt to distract yourself from your emotions, but quiet sniffles followed by deeper sobs only reminded you of what just happened.

in that moment, you felt stupid, pathetic, like a complete loser for ever hoping for something more — for hoping you could change him. but of course, that only ever happens in the movie, and unfortunately your life is anything but. how could you be so naïve?

you are alone with your thoughts for a little while longer, drowning in your own pitifulness, when the bedroom door creaks opens. chris saunters in so casually, a simple white shirt loose on his frame and sweatpants that hang low on his hips, his hair tousled, and his eyes are clouded and faded from the joint he sparked up earlier.

you can't bear to look at him for too long — you refuse to. instead, you fixate on the wall, your gaze drifting over his posters in hopes to distract yourself as chris moves lazily around the room, rummaging through his desk drawer, the sound of coins clinking and crisp dollar bills rustling sounding like nails on a chalkboard.

"you hungry or what, kid?" he asks, scratching his cheek as he continues to dig through the mess.

it pains you how nonchalant and casual he sounds. it feels like a punch to the gut. how can he be so unfazed to the pain that he has just caused you? you shouldn't be surprised. this is who he is.

"hey. m'talkin' to you." he adds, his voice breaking through your haze.

you swallow hard, the lump in your throat refusing to budge as you still keep your eyes averted, not allowing him to see the hurt on your face. but a small sniffle escapes, and the sound immediately catches his attention. you feel the bed dip as he moves closer, fingers gripping your chin and turning your head to meet his gaze.

his eyes flick over your face, a huff leaving his lips. "what.. what's the matter with you? huh? you — you been watchin' those dumb videos again? told you not to do that, a'ight? fix your face."

chris goes to rub his thumb across your cheeks, trying to wipe away the tears, but you flinch away, opting to use your sleeve instead. his hand drops to the bed, a moment of silence hanging between you two. he shifts, tonguing at his cheek as he watches you with faded eyes that blink slowly, but studies every detail.

"what, uh.. what happened?" his concern sounds so strange to you, and it's clear it's hard for him too, judging by the way his face twitches slightly, his jaw tense. "somethin' happened to you, or what?"

you don't answer him once again, the silence stretching uncomfortably between you.

chris lets out a sigh of frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to hold back his own irritation. "look. this — this silent treatment you got goin' on right now isn't workin', yeah? it's... it's bullshit, and i can't help you if you don't talk to me, alright? so — so talk, because this silence is really startin' to piss me off—"

"i want to go home." the words escape you like a whisper, and chris' head jerks back, surprise flickering across his features.

"you.. you wanna go home — like, right now? you wanna go home right now?" chris asks you, his voice laced with disbelief. you nod slowly, hearing him scoff, his disbelief turning into frustration. "the fuck you talkin' about? you don't wanna go home, bun, you — you're stayin' here tonight, remember? with me."

"i just want to go home..."

"did you take anythin'? huh?" chris suddenly asks, grabbing your cheeks again to lift your face, his eyes probing as he examines your bloodshot gaze. "did you go through my stash while i was downstairs? is — is that why your brain is all foggy n' shit? take somethin' on the sly?"

"no! i didn't!" you whine pathetically, pushing his hand away from your face. the tears swell in your eyes again, each drop a reminder of his callous words repeating in your mind. "i want to leave, chris."

"ha..." chris breathes out, his tongue rolling across his teeth as he stares at you for a moment, the disbelief still evident on his features. then he nods, smacking his lips together. "okay, alright. then — then go. you wanna leave s'bad? go."

a flicker of relief washes over you at the thought of finally escaping and going home to be comforted by your own room, to cry as much as you please, but the idea of walking home alone in the fark fills you with dread, an unsettling knot forming in your stomach.

"get that look off your face," chris grumbles as he climbs off the bed, snatching his phone off of his bedside table. he strides over to his desk to keep a distance from you, the tension still thick in the air. "i'm callin' you an uber, then you can fuckin' go."

© STURNIOZ

[cherryredcheol]

officially official

tldr: he wants to make things official before he leaves a/n: i may rewrite this to be better and longer one day. but this is all i've got right now.

you were in the bedroom changing into sweats for movie night when you heard jun from the living room, “you know, i’m going away for a while.”

confused, you answered him, “yeah, i know. we talked about it forever ago…” 

again, from the living room you heard, “i’ll miss you a lot. which is why i want to make things official before i go.” 

frantically pulling your hoodie over your head, you raced down the hall, slipping on the smooth floor in your socks. you skid to a stop in the doorframe and panted out, “you better not be proposing to me from the other room.”

jun was crouched on the floor, back to you, but turned slowly when he heard your breathless threat. his eyes were wide, matching yours, and full of confusion. “what are you talking about?” 

“what are you talking about? ‘making things official’? you were going to ask me to marry you when i wasn’t even in the room?” 

jun’s eyes widened impossibly further, “who said i was proposing?”

you threw your hands up, completely baffled, “who else could you be taking the next step with?”

jun finally stood and from behind him came your cat, slowly meandering from his sunny spot on the floor, the one jun had been perched in front of. and suddenly you understood. 

“oh my god, you were talking to the cat? i can’t believe you.” 

jun blushed, embarrassed that you’d heard him talking to your pet and had taken his words out of context. he rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, “sorry, dumpling.”

you laughed, amused by the whole thing and slightly embarrassed for jumping to conclusions. “i love that you love my cat, junnie. but what do you mean, ‘official’?” 

jun flushed deeper, “i printed off some adoption papers. i want to officially be his dad.” 

“oh my god!” you couldn’t help but giggle, “that’s the cutest thing ever! where do i sign?”

[jishyucks]

⋆.˚ Twinkle, Twinkle ˚.⋆ — lmk (Teaser)

‣ pairing: mark lee x reader

‣  genre: fluff, friends-to-lovers

‣ current wc: 5.6k (so far), about 65% done, predicted 10k

‣ summary: The world is sick and tired of your and Mark’s inability to understand feelings. With a friendship that has lasted longer than you can count on your fingers and friends who can tell you’re both utterly in love with each other, the universe decides to make use of its different light forms to tip you both over the edge of friendship.

‣ warnings (so far): some cliches?, like one kms joke, mentions of alcohol, mentions of vomiting (cause of alcohol)

‣ an: this idea has been rotting in my drafts since like February and i finally got the motivation to write it yippeeee,,, tag list maybe? just ask!

Without light, it’d be awfully difficult to see (duh)

Mark’s bed was the 2nd most comfiest bed in the world, a close runner-up to your parents’.

His mother truly chose the perfect pillow for you to use, paired with a blanket that complimented it well. They both smelled like fresh laundry, an aroma you were familiar with because your best friend smelled exactly like this.

The clock on Mark’s nightstand reads 12:23 AM, moonlight pushing past his closed shutters to emit a bit of its light into his room. Its light does poorly, giving the glow-in-the-dark stars on Mark’s ceiling a chance to emerge through the darkness.

Your mind’s filled with thoughts of the conclusion of the movie you both had just watched—Tangled—and your younger self could not help but think…

“Mark?” you called out into the darkness, “Mark, are you awake?”

There’s shuffling in the space next to you and then you hear Mark hum, “I’m awake. Why?”

You hesitate to ask the question that’s been keeping your brain occupied ever since the credits started rolling. But knowing Mark, he wouldn’t take it the wrong way.

“Do you…”

You can barely see Mark’s head lift up to look at you in the darkness, bedhead creating a jagged outline.

“Do you think I’ll ever fall in love and get married like Rapunzel did in the movie?”

Your mind replays the clips of Rapunzel and Eugene underneath the lanterns, lights creating a scene you’ll never forget for the rest of your life.

Mark hums again, something that he did when he was deep in thought. Your question wasn’t too far-fetched. He’s overheard a lot of the other girls in his class talking about crushes they’ve had on other classmates or squealing over that one idol he couldn’t remember the name of. The only difference now was that these thoughts were coming out of you.

“Do you think you won’t?” Was Mark’s reply.

At the time, you really didn’t know what you were saying, barely having the knowledge to understand the deeper meaning of it all.

Love and marriage? You weren’t aware that you had skipped practically everything before that.

“I think so.”

Mark doesn’t reply for a long while, long enough to convince you that he had fallen asleep the second you answered his question. But when you feel the bed dip, you can make out that he is now sitting up and reaching for his lamp.

Click!

You let out a quiet hiss, squeezing your eyes shut because you’re suddenly blinded.

Mark snorts, “Sorry, I should’ve warned you.”

There’s movement on his end again, the blankets softly rustling. You’re not sure what Mark was trying to do, but once you finally open your eyes, the first thing you see in the lowly-lit room are his eyes shining back at you, mouth opened slightly because he was going to say something. He’s propped up on his elbows, crushing the barrier pillow between you both.

“Why’d you have to turn the light on?” You scoot yourself up to face your best friend.

Mark shrugs as chews on his bottom lip in search of words, “I just feel like it’ll mean more if you could see me saying it.”

“Saying what?”

“You’ll find your happily ever after,” Mark says seriously. You can tell just by the way he looked at you that he was serious. Not even a hint of kidding looming behind his pupils. You forget that Mark was such an optimist.

Your brows furrow, unsure whether or not you should take this boy seriously. “And how are you so sure about that?”

Mark’s eyes reflect the light coming from his lamp and he grins. It’s almost creepy the way he does, like he has something hidden up his sleeve.

“I just am.”

[euthymiya]

surprise visits — ft. gojo satoru

you like visiting satoru in roundabout ways. he likes taking you in his bed every chance he gets. it’s a mutually beneficial relationship sort of thing

before you read: fem reader ; reader wears makeup ; brother’s best friend gojo ; reader is geto’s younger sister (she is implied to use the last name geto) ; slightly forbidden love ; non curse au (gojo and geto are roommates) ; unprotected vaginal sex (but gojo pulls out) ; hand jobs ; very overdone tropes sorry

notes: you know what they say….blood runs thicker than water. and cum runs thicker than blood ;) (sorry)

Your brother would kill you if he found you like this.

Legs wrapped around a slender waist, hands curled with a fistful of sweaty hair, cheeks smeared with tears and mascara that’s kissed right off by swollen lips. He’d kill you a second time if he knew the slender waist, sweaty hair, and swollen lips belonged to his best friend.

“Missed me?” Satoru purrs, pressing a kiss to your jaw. You whimper as his cock sinks deeper into you, burying past your folds and nudging at a painfully sensitive spot. “You must’ve missed me real bad if you’re back so soon, sweetheart.”

If you were a good sister, you’d say you visit your brother for the sake of seeing him. You’d say you miss your kind, loving older brother, and you couldn’t bring yourself to wait any longer to see him.

The truth, however, is that you miss his best friend.

Satoru is good at keeping secrets—it’s a bit hard to believe at first, but evidently it’s true since Suguru doesn’t suspect anything. Never once, in all your time of visiting, has he questioned why you come so frequently and spend so many nights.

What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

If he’s not aware that you sneak and spend nights curled under the sheets of his roommate who happens to be his life long, childhood, and only best friend, then who are you to break the news to him? And if Satoru doesn’t find it necessary to come clean, why should you question his judgment?

Suguru has always been protective. It’s what a good older brother should do. He’s particularly picky about men.

That one’s too dumb.

That one looks like he washes his face with a bar of soap.

That one definitely doesn’t respect his mother.

That one’s just ugly.

Suguru turns his nose at every boy you meet. Every one you start talking to. It’s hard to have a dating life when your brother is so overly protective, so high with his standards. It’s loving, of course, but difficult all the same.

It’s not that you just had to choose Satoru out of spite. It’s more like Satoru was right there, looking so good, talking so sweet, and being so gentle. At the right place at the wrong time. Just happened to be there, letting you rant about your brother’s meddling with a half-amused smirk and a slightly empathetic look.

Maybe Suguru is right, he’d murmured, stepping closer, maybe the little boys you find are undeserving.

One accidental heated kiss turns into countless stolen, and thrilling hidden pecks in hidden corners of the apartment. That quickly becomes not enough, and then you’re sneaking into his room to lock lips for as long as you’re brave enough to. It’s easiest at night, though, to eventually shed clothes and explore a little more than tongue and lips. His body is a lot more accessible to you in the comfort of his bedroom while your brother is fast asleep in a completely different room.

And so it begins.

An unbreakable habit of sorts. Satoru’s body becomes familiar—too familiar, in fact. One taste, and you can’t help but make the two hour commute every few weekends, dropping by your brother’s shared apartment with his friend under the pretense of being a thoughtful little sister.

Suguru, I brought groceries, you say, no more instant meals. They’re unhealthy.

Suguru, your place is in need of serious cleaning. You boys live like pigs.

Suguru, I missed you. I thought we could rewatch some movies!

One excuse after the other. One visit after the next. One trip to Satoru’s mattress again and again. And again.

“C’mon,” he drawls, pouting against your cheek before he licks a dark, mascara-mixed tear from the soft skin, “tell me how much you missed me. I missed you too, is that what you wanted to hear?”

“T-toru,” you whine, arching your back as his hips roll with a sharp thrust, fucking into you deeper. Harder.

“I do love when you say my name,” he chuckles, hand coming to tilt your face up and meet his eyes, “but that’s not exactly what I wanted to hear.

His hips slow, like a punishment. Like not giving him what he wants stops motivating him from taking you on his thick, swollen cock. You’re sure that’s not true—but he’s a ruthlessly stubborn guy.

“Missed you,” you gasp, nodding frantically, “missed you so much, okay? Please don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop? Sure,” he laughs, grunting as his pace picks up and your walls squeeze around him in response.

It’s filthy. His pre cum, your slick, the small beads of sweat. All of it rolls down your inner thighs in a sticky, wet mess that is purely obscene. Satoru stares down between your legs like it’s beautiful, though. Watches the push and pull of his cock in and out of your hole, disappearing and reappearing coated in your arousal and his.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, “gotta get you a little place right by ours. So you can come over whenever I want.”

You tighten around him at that. He grins, laughing that sweet, boyish laugh that just makes him so attractive.

Suguru will just have to understand. Satoru is practically impossible not to fall for.

“You like that idea, huh? I can tell,” he says smugly, peppering kisses along your cheek, stopping just along the corner of your mouth. “I can feel you squeezing around me, you sweet little thing.

Satoru is like that—teasing and cocky on the surface, acting as if he isn’t just as desperate on the inside. Maybe even more. You can tell because he’s panting harshly against your mouth, impatiently bullying his cock past your folds and waiting for you to take the bait.

You do, of course. You turn and kiss his lips, earning a satisfied, almost relieved groan from him as he melts over you.

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling his body closer, lips biting at his as he moans into your mouth. His rhythm is sloppy by now, cock aching as it glides against your walls, the friction building a pressure in the pits of your bellies together. It feels intimate like this, when his mouth is on yours and your eyes can meet at any given moment, when he can look down and see you take him and join your bodies, when you can wrap your arms around him and feel the flush of his heat against you.

It feels intimate. Close. Not like the other boys you’ve talked to. Maybe Suguru was right—maybe your taste in men has always been bad before this. Maybe you just needed to look a little closer instead of further.

“You know what I think?” You murmur against his ear, smiling as he shivers at the feeling of your hot breath fanning against the sensitive skin.

“What, baby?” He hums, panting as his hand wanders lower, finger slowly tracing along your belly, your waist, until finally finding its destination at your clit. “What do you think?”

You can hardly answer when he rubs circles into the sensitive nub, gasping with a soft whimper as he teases the bundle of nerves.

“I th-think…you’ve been sharing a place with the wrong Geto,” you whine. “It should be me.”

“Yeah?” He quirks his lips at the corner, “you want to share a place with me?”

“Yeah,” you pout, making him close his eyes and sigh shakily at the sight. He leans in and steals a quick peck at your swollen lips, jutted out in a sweet, adorable little frown. “You don’t want one with me?”

“God you drive me insane,” he groans, eyes closing shut and scrunching as his hips slam into you—sloppy and desperate now. “Fuck, you’re so tight, baby. So…so good.”

“Please Toru,” you beg, clinging tighter to him as your nails dig into his shoulder blades. Anything to ground you, to bring you closer to him—nails in his skin, legs around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back.

“Please what?” He says lowly, still teasing at your swollen clit, “use your words.”

“Please make me cum,” you plead, “m’so close.”

“Then cum, baby,” he murmurs against your lips before kissing them, slow and meaningful as he adds, “let me see you. C’mon.”

His hips roll once, twice before your hips buck into him, leaving the bed as you let out a choked sob. Your orgasm hits you in harsh waves—it’s hard to stay afloat with the way they drown you in pleasure. He’s unforgiving against your clit, still rubbing those harsh circles into it and working you through your high.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he groans, “fuck, you’re squeezing me, sweetheart. So t-tight—m’gonna cum.”

Satoru, unlike the guys you’ve heard about from your friends here and there, doesn’t fuck you for his own pleasure. He fucks you like he has something to prove. That he can take care of you.

Satoru holds himself back, jaw clenched and eyes screwed shut, labored breaths through his nostrils as he waits for you to finish, slowly fucking you through it.

Finally—finally, when you’re done, he pulls his hard, throbbing length out, hand wrapping around it as he strokes himself with a loud groan.

“Fuck,” he whines, “fuck, I’m close—sh-shit.”

He cuts himself off with a curse when you pry his hand away and replace it with your own, making his eyes rip open and stare down as your tinier hand takes the place of his much larger one. You can’t wrap your fingers around him completely—that sight alone makes him twitch in your hold.

You stroke him quickly, squeezing along the length as your fist glides down, right at the base of his cock. It doesn’t take long for him to come undone, the first few drops of cum coating your hand before they shoot in ropes with very twitch of his length. They spill onto your bare skin, against your lower belly, dripping along your inner thigh.

He watches, in a trance. Eyes hazy and fucked out but focused on the way his seed coats your skin.

“God,” he groans, “like that—y-yeah,” he praises as you work him along his orgasm.

Finally, once you’ve milked every drop out of him, he collapses over you, uncaring of the mess he’s now smeared along his own skin.

“How long do we have?” You murmur.

“Suguru’s back from work in an hour.”

“That gives us plenty of time,” you nod, your good hand stroking through his sweaty hair.

He perks up, brightening as he gives you an excited grin. “For another round?”

“To clean up and look presentable,” you glare.

“But we need a shower for that,” he winks, “we could—”

“I’ll use his bathroom. You use yours.”

Satoru flops back onto your chest, burying his face into your neck as he huffs in defeat.

“No fun at all,” he grumbles, earning a giggle from you as you kiss the side of his head.

Your brother would definitely kill you both if he was here right now.

I have to leave for work in 9 mins and I’m still in pj’s posting this. Lord save me I need priorities

[reidmarieprentiss]

Second Chances and Serendipity

Summary: Y/N is Will's sister, she meets Spencer when Henry is born, but she is already seeing someone else.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Warnings: bisexual Y/N

Category: fluff

Word count: 4.1k

main masterlist

The antiseptic smell of the hospital filled the air as Y/N made her way through the maze of corridors to the maternity ward. Her excitement bubbled over; her brother Will and his girlfriend JJ were about to welcome their first child into the world. The anticipation was electric, and she could hardly contain her enthusiasm.

As she approached the reception desk, Y/N's eyes scanned the area for any familiar faces. Not seeing anyone she recognized, she stepped up to the desk and smiled at the receptionist.

"Hi, I’m here for Will LaMontagne and Jennifer Jareau. My name is Y/N," she said, her voice a mix of excitement and nerves. "Do you know where I can find them?"

Before the receptionist could respond, a tall, lanky man with tousled brown hair and glasses stepped forward. He had been sitting in the waiting area, absorbed in a thick book, but Y/N's question had caught his attention.

"Excuse me," he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity. "Did you say you're here for Will and JJ?"

Y/N turned to face him, her eyes widening slightly. "Yes, I'm Will's sister, Y/N."

The young man smiled, "I’m Spencer Reid, one of JJ's colleagues and friends. Nice to meet you."

Y/N smiled back, feeling a warmth in his presence. "Nice to meet you too, Spencer. This is such an exciting day."

"It really is," Spencer agreed, his smile growing. "Would you like to sit with me while we wait? I can fill you in on what's been happening."

"That sounds great," Y/N replied, grateful for the company.

They walked over to the waiting area and took seats next to each other. Spencer closed his book, giving Y/N his full attention.

"So, how's everything going so far?" Y/N asked, settling into her chair.

"JJ and Will are doing well. JJ went into labor a few hours ago, so it shouldn’t be too much longer now," Spencer explained.

"That's good to hear," Y/N said, a sigh of relief escaping her. "I can’t wait to meet my nephew."

Spencer smiled warmly. "He’s going to have a lot of love in his life, that’s for sure."

As they waited, the conversation between them flowed effortlessly. Y/N was fascinated by Spencer’s work with the BAU and his impressive intellect. They talked about everything from books and movies to their favorite childhood memories.

"You know," Spencer said, leaning in slightly, "it's not often I meet someone who can keep up with my random facts."

Y/N laughed, her eyes twinkling. "Well, you haven’t heard all of mine yet. Did you know that octopuses have three hearts?"

"Really?" Spencer's eyebrows shot up. "That’s fascinating! One heart pumps blood through its organs, and the other two pump it through the gills."

"Exactly!" Y/N beamed, enjoying their playful exchange.

Time seemed to stand still as they delved deeper into their conversation, sharing stories and jokes as if they had known each other for years. The connection between them was undeniable, a magnetic pull that neither could resist.

Eventually, the door to the waiting room opened, and a nurse stepped in, her smile broad. "Will and JJ would like to introduce you to baby Henry."

Spencer and Y/N stood up, both feeling a little reluctant to end their conversation but equally eager to meet the newest addition to the family.

They entered the room, where Will and JJ were beaming with pride, baby Henry cradled in JJ’s arms. But even amidst the joy and celebration, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for what she felt today with Spencer. The connection had been so strong, so immediate, that it felt almost surreal.

Will looked up, his face lighting up even more when he saw his sister. "Hey, Y/N! Did you and Spencer get a chance to meet?"

"Yes, we did," Y/N replied with a smile, glancing at Spencer who gave a small nod in agreement.

"Great," Will said, looking around. "So, where's Stephanie? I thought she was coming with you."

At the mention of her girlfriend, Y/N felt a slight tightening in her chest. She adored Stephanie, but today's encounter with Spencer had stirred unexpected feelings. "She couldn't make it," Y/N said, trying to keep her tone light. "She had to work late, but she sends her love and promises to visit soon."

Spencer's expression shifted almost imperceptibly, his smile faltering just a bit. He looked away, focusing on baby Henry, but Y/N noticed the change. The realization that she was already taken seemed to hit him harder than it should after one meeting.

"That's too bad," Will said, but he was quickly distracted by Henry's small movements. "Come on over, meet your nephew."

Y/N moved closer to the bed, her heart melting as she looked at the tiny baby in JJ's arms. "Oh, he's perfect," she whispered, gently touching Henry's hand.

JJ smiled up at her. "He’s stolen my heart already."

Spencer stood by the foot of the bed, his hands in his pockets. "He’s very lucky," he said softly.

Y/N glanced over at Spencer, feeling a mix of emotions. She couldn't deny the spark between them, but she also couldn't ignore her commitment to Stephanie. It was a confusing tangle of feelings that left her unsure of what to do next.

As the family cooed over Henry, Y/N found herself standing next to Spencer again. He seemed quieter now, more reserved, and she couldn't help but feel a pang of regret.

"I'm really glad we met today, Spencer," she said softly, hoping to bridge the sudden gap between them.

"Me too," he replied, his voice gentle but distant. "Congratulations on becoming an aunt. Henry's very lucky to have you in his life."

"Thank you," Y/N said, wishing she could find the right words to explain the confusion in her heart. But with Will and JJ so happy and Spencer standing just out of reach, it didn't seem like the right time.

They stayed in the room a while longer, sharing the joy of Henry's arrival. But the undercurrent of unresolved feelings between Y/N and Spencer lingered, a quiet reminder of the unexpected connection they'd shared and the complicated emotions that now accompanied it.

Over the next few years, Y/N and Spencer didn't have another chance to meet. Their paths never crossed again, but Y/N frequently heard stories about Spencer from JJ, Will, and the women of the BAU. Each tale only deepened her admiration for him, painting a picture of a man who was not only brilliant but also kind, compassionate, and remarkably dedicated.

"Spencer is something else," JJ would often say with a smile, recounting another of his incredible feats in solving a case or his sweet gestures towards his friends. "He’s always the first to lend a hand, and he’s so good with Henry. You should see them together."

Y/N would listen intently, her heart aching with each story. She couldn't shake the memory of their brief yet intense connection at the hospital. It was a feeling that lingered, haunting her thoughts and dreams.

Meanwhile, her relationship with Stephanie was becoming increasingly strained. They had grown apart over the years, their once strong bond now fraying at the edges. Stephanie was often busy with work, and their interactions became more perfunctory than affectionate. Despite this, they had gotten engaged, a decision that felt more like a logical step rather than a joyous celebration of their love.

Y/N often found herself lost in thought, wondering what her life would have been like if she had pursued a different path. The memories of Spencer, the way he made her feel so seen and understood in those few short hours, kept resurfacing.

One evening, as she sat alone in the living room, Y/N stared at the engagement ring on her finger, feeling a heavy weight in her chest. Stephanie was working late again, and the apartment felt eerily quiet. The silence gave her too much time to think, to reflect on her feelings and the growing disconnect between her and her fiancée.

She picked up her phone, scrolling through old messages and photos, and paused on a picture of Spencer from Henry's first birthday party that JJ had sent the lady’s group chat. They were both smiling, caught in a candid moment of laughter. She remembered how her heart had fluttered whenever she was near him.

Her mind wandered back to the stories JJ had shared recently. Spencer had rescued a kidnapped child, his quick thinking and bravery saving the day once again. She could hear JJ's voice, full of pride and admiration for her friend.

"He’s one of a kind," JJ had said, her eyes sparkling. "We’re all lucky to have him."

Later that evening, when Stephanie returned from work, Y/N took a deep breath and sat down with her on the couch. The conversation was long and emotional, filled with tears and difficult truths.

They both acknowledged the changes in their relationship and the love they once shared that had slowly faded.

In the end, they decided to take a break, giving themselves the space to reevaluate their relationship and their future. It was a painful decision, but one that felt right for both of them.

The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the Rossi estate. It was the perfect evening for JJ and Will's backyard wedding, and the atmosphere was filled with love and celebration. Y/N arrived, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. She had looked forward to this day for months, not just to celebrate her brother and JJ but also for the possibility of seeing Spencer again.

As she wandered through the beautifully decorated garden, Y/N’s heart raced with anticipation. She exchanged pleasantries with other guests, her eyes occasionally scanning the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man who had been on her mind for so long.

Finally, near a cluster of trees adorned with twinkling fairy lights, she saw him. Spencer stood slightly apart from the crowd, adjusting his tie and looking as endearing as ever. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she felt like that same girl in the hospital waiting room, her heart fluttering uncontrollably.

Gathering her courage, she made her way towards him. Spencer looked up as she approached, his eyes widening in surprise before a warm smile spread across his face.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice soft with a hint of disbelief. “Hi.”

“Hi, Spencer,” Y/N replied, her smile matching his. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, it has,” he said, nervously tucking his hair behind his ears. “You look… you look amazing.”

Y/N felt a blush rise to her cheeks. “Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself.”

They both laughed, the awkwardness of the moment breaking the ice. The sound of music and laughter filled the air around them, but they seemed to be in a bubble of their own.

“So, how have you been?” Spencer asked, genuinely curious.

“I’ve been good, a lot has changed,” Y/N replied, thinking back to her recent breakup. “And you?”

“Busy with work, as usual,” Spencer said with a chuckle. “But it’s nice to take a break for something as special as this.”

“Absolutely,” Y/N agreed, feeling the old connection between them starting to resurface. “I’ve heard so much about you from JJ and Will. It’s like I’ve been keeping up with your life through them.”

Spencer’s smile turned a bit shy. “Yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you too. JJ’s quite the storyteller.”

They both laughed again, the nervousness ebbing away as they fell into a familiar rhythm. The conversation flowed, filled with giggles and shared memories, despite the years that had passed since their first meeting.

Spencer glanced down at his feet, then back up at Y/N, his expression more serious. “You know, I’ve thought about you a lot over the years.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “I’ve thought about you too, Spencer.”

They shared a quiet moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them. Then, with a smile that was both nervous and excited, Spencer extended his hand.

“Would you like to dance?”

Y/N’s smile widened, her heart soaring. “I’d love to.”

They moved towards the makeshift dance floor, the music wrapping around them as they swayed together. The awkwardness melted away, replaced by a feeling of rightness, as if this was where they were always meant to be.

And as they danced under the twinkling lights, surrounded by the love and joy of JJ and Will’s wedding, Y/N felt a sense of happiness and hope that she hadn’t felt in a long time. The warmth of Spencer’s presence, the ease of their conversation, and the gentle rhythm of their dance all made the world outside disappear.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Spencer looked down at Y/N, his curiosity evident. “So, how’s Stephanie? I remember Will mentioning you two were engaged.”

Y/N felt a pang of guilt and hesitation. She had known this question would come up eventually, but it still caught her off guard. She took a deep breath, deciding to be honest. “Stephanie and I… well, we’re not together anymore.”

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, and he looked at her with concern. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“It’s okay,” Y/N said softly, her gaze lowering for a moment. “We grew apart over the years. It became clear that we were more like friends than partners. We tried to make it work, but in the end, we realized it was best to part ways.”

Spencer nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That must have been difficult.”

“It was,” Y/N admitted, meeting his eyes again. “But it was the right decision. We both needed to move on and find our own paths.”

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m glad you were able to make that decision, even though it was hard. You deserve to be happy.”

Y/N felt a warmth spread through her at his words. “Thank you, Spencer. That means a lot.”

They continued to dance, the conversation flowing naturally once more. Y/N shared some of the challenges she had faced during the breakup and how she had focused on rediscovering herself. Spencer listened intently, offering support and understanding.

“You know,” Y/N said after a while, “hearing all those stories about you from JJ and the others… it always made me wonder what could have been if we had kept in touch.”

Spencer smiled, a hint of shyness in his eyes. “I’ve wondered the same thing. I thought about reaching out a few times, but I wasn’t sure if it would be appropriate.”

Y/N laughed softly. “Well, here we are now. Maybe it’s fate giving us another chance.”

“Maybe it is,” Spencer agreed, his smile growing. “I’d like to think so.”

As the song ended, they stopped dancing but remained close, neither wanting to break the connection they had rekindled. Spencer hesitated for a moment before speaking again.

“Y/N, would you like to go out for coffee sometime? I mean, to catch up and… see where things go?”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “I’d love that, Spencer.”

They exchanged numbers, their fingers brushing slightly as they did. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter, stories, and the comforting presence of each other.

When the night finally came to an end, and it was time to say goodbye, Y/N felt a sense of anticipation she hadn’t felt in years. As she walked away from the Rossi estate, she couldn’t help but smile, knowing that this was just the beginning of a new chapter in her life—one filled with hope, possibility, and the promise of something truly special with Spencer.

Y/N arrived at the cozy little café, a smile already tugging at her lips as she spotted Spencer sitting at a corner table, looking around nervously. The warm, inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, blending with the soft hum of conversation and the gentle clinking of cups and saucers.

As she approached, Spencer’s eyes lit up, and he stood to greet her. “Y/N, hi! It’s so good to see you.”

“Hi, Spencer,” she replied, her heart fluttering with excitement. “It’s great to see you too.”

They hugged briefly, the familiarity of his presence already bringing a sense of comfort. They both sat down, and Spencer pushed a menu towards her.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I thought we could decide together,” he said, his smile shy but warm.

“Perfect,” Y/N said, glancing at the menu. “Do you have a favorite here?”

Spencer nodded. “The lavender latte is really good, and their pastries are amazing. I usually go for the almond croissant.”

“Lavender latte sounds interesting,” Y/N said, her curiosity piqued. “Let’s go with that and two almond croissants?”

“Great choice,” Spencer agreed, signaling the waiter.

Once their order was placed, they settled into an easy conversation. There was a lightness to their interaction, a mutual understanding that they didn’t want to waste any more time. The years apart had only intensified their appreciation for each other’s company.

“So, what have you been up to since the wedding?” Spencer asked, his eyes twinkling with genuine interest.

Y/N smiled, leaning in slightly. “I’ve been focusing on my career and spending a lot of time with my family. I’ve also picked up a few hobbies, like painting. It’s been really therapeutic.”

“Painting? That’s wonderful,” Spencer said, his admiration clear. “I’d love to see your work sometime.”

“I’d love to show you,” Y/N replied, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. “What about you? Any interesting cases lately?”

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head. “Every case is interesting in its own way, but some are definitely more challenging than others. It keeps me on my toes.”

“I can imagine,” Y/N said, her tone playful. “You’re always the hero, aren’t you?”

Spencer’s cheeks turned a slight shade of pink. “I wouldn’t say that, but I do my best.”

Their drinks and pastries arrived, and they took a moment to savor the first sip. The lavender latte was fragrant and soothing, and the croissants were buttery and flaky, just as Spencer had promised.

“This is amazing,” Y/N said, closing her eyes for a moment to enjoy the taste.

“I’m glad you like

it,” Spencer replied, his smile widening. “I’ve thought about this a lot, you know. Just being able to talk to you.”

“Me too,” Y/N said softly, her eyes meeting his. “It feels like we’ve been given a second chance, and I don’t want to waste it.”

“Neither do I,” Spencer said, his voice earnest.

They continued to talk, their conversation punctuated with laughter and shared memories. The flirtation was natural and effortless, each playful comment bringing them closer.

“You have a way of making even the most complicated things sound fascinating,” Y/N said, her eyes sparkling. “I could listen to you talk all day.”

Spencer chuckled, a hint of shyness in his demeanor. “And you have a way of making me feel like the most interesting person in the room.”

“You are,” Y/N said, her tone sincere. “At least to me.”

They finished their coffee, but neither made a move to leave. The connection between them was undeniable, and they both knew they wanted more.

“Y/N,” Spencer said, reaching across the table to take her hand, “I’m really happy we’re here together. It feels right.”

“It does,” Y/N agreed, her fingers intertwining with his. “I’ve thought about this moment so many times, and now that it’s here, it’s even better than I imagined.”

“Me too,” Spencer said, his voice filled with emotion. “I don’t want to rush things, but I also don’t want to let go of this feeling. Can we see each other again soon?”

“Absolutely,” Y/N replied without hesitation.

Y/N and Spencer left the café, their hands still intertwined, and strolled down the charming, tree-lined street. The morning air was cool and refreshing, and the bright sun cast a romantic glow on the cobblestone path.

As they walked, Y/N couldn’t help but steal glances at Spencer. There was something about the way his eyes sparkled and his smile turned shy that made her heart race. She decided to push the conversation into more playful, flirtatious territory.

“So, Dr. Reid,” she said, her voice light and teasing, “do you always sweep women off their feet with your extensive knowledge of, well, everything?”

Spencer chuckled, his cheeks flushing slightly. “I don’t know about that. I think you’re giving me too much credit.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her smile mischievous. “Oh, come on. You’ve got to have a few tricks up your sleeve. I bet you’ve got all sorts of interesting facts to impress the ladies.”

Spencer laughed, a sound that sent a pleasant shiver down Y/N’s spine. “Well, I do know a lot of facts, but I’m not sure how impressive they are. For example, did you know that kissing burns 6.4 calories a minute?”

Y/N stopped walking, turning to face him with a playful grin. “Is that so? And how exactly did you come across that piece of information?”

Spencer’s smile turned a bit sheepish. “Let’s just say I read a lot.”

She took a step closer, their bodies almost touching. “That’s quite an interesting fact. Do you have any others related to kissing?”

Spencer’s breath hitched slightly, his eyes locked onto hers. “Well, there’s also the fact that kissing releases dopamine, which can make you feel happy and relaxed.”

Y/N tilted her head, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Sounds like a pretty compelling argument for kissing.”

The tension between them was palpable, a magnetic pull drawing them closer. Spencer reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch sending sparks through her skin.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice filled with a mix of desire and nervousness. “I’ve thought about kissing you since the day we met.”

Y/N’s heart raced, her breath catching in her throat. “I’ve thought about it too, Spencer.”

They stood there, inches apart, the world around them fading away. Spencer’s hand cupped her cheek, his thumb gently stroking her skin. The anticipation was electric, every moment stretching out as they savored the closeness.

Finally, Spencer leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a tentative, tender kiss. It was soft at first, a gentle exploration, but the heat between them quickly intensified. Y/N responded eagerly, her hands slipping around his neck as she pressed herself against him.

Spencer’s arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened. Their lips moved in perfect sync, a dance of passion and longing that had been building for years. The world around them disappeared, leaving only the two of them, lost in the moment.

When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other’s. Spencer’s eyes were dark with desire, and Y/N could feel her own pulse pounding in her ears.

“That was…” Spencer began, his voice husky.

“Amazing,” Y/N finished for him, a satisfied smile spreading across her face.

Spencer laughed softly, his hands still holding her close. “Yeah, amazing.”

They resumed walking, their hands clasped tightly together. The playful banter continued, but now there was an added layer of intimacy and sexual tension. Every touch, every glance carried the promise of more, a tantalizing hint of what was to come.

As they reached the end of the street, Y/N turned to Spencer with a playful glint in her eye. “So, Dr. Reid, are there any other fascinating facts you’d like to share with me?”

Spencer grinned, leaning in to whisper in her ear, lips brushing against it sensually. “I have plenty more where those came from. But maybe I should save some for our next date?”

Y/N laughed nervously, her heart racing with sudden arousal. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

They shared another lingering kiss under the shade of a tree, the promise of future dates and shared moments hanging in the air between them. In that moment, Y/N knew she had found something truly special with Spencer, and she couldn’t wait to see where their journey would take them. Her ring finger was feeling a little too light nowadays anyway.

[imonanotherlebel]

Tracing You

Jungkook x GN.Reader

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, guys. It's one of my only motivations in life these days...

Hope you all enjoy...

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

Genre : Romance, fluff, drabble

Warnings : Slightly suggestive, kissing

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

It was one of those rare evenings where the world felt at peace. The city lights shimmered outside, casting a soft glow into the living room where you and Jungkook were tangled together on the couch. The movie on the TV had long lost your attention, replaced by the sound of his gentle breathing as his head rested in your lap.

Your fingers absentmindedly traced patterns along his tattooed arm, following the intricate designs inked into his skin. Each curve and line felt like a secret only you knew, a map of moments and memories shared between the two of you. Jungkook’s eyes fluttered open slightly, catching the small smile playing on your lips. He loved seeing you like this, relaxed and content, with your hair slightly tousled and eyes shining.

“What’re you thinking about?” he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Just… how lucky I am,” you whispered back, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. His eyes closed again, a quiet hum of contentment escaping his lips.

He shifted, turning onto his back to face you fully. His dark eyes met yours, filled with that familiar intensity that always made your heart skip a beat. “You know I’m the lucky one, right?” His hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin with a tenderness that made your chest ache in the best way.

You laughed softly, shaking your head, but before you could respond, Jungkook tugged you down gently, pulling you on top of him. The sudden movement made you gasp, your hands landing on his chest as he grinned up at you, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“Jungkook…” you started, but he cut you off with a kiss, his lips soft but insistent against yours. The cool metal of his lip ring pressed against your skin, adding a new layer of sensation that sent a thrill through your entire body. It was the kind of kiss that made everything else disappear, leaving only the warmth of his touch and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palms.

When he finally pulled back, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting together as you tried to steady your breathing. “Stay like this with me,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath against your lips. “Just for a little while longer.”

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips as you snuggled closer, resting your head against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close, and you felt the tension melt away from your body. In that moment, everything was perfect—just you, him, and the quiet comfort of stolen moments together.

As the night grew deeper, Jungkook’s hands began to wander, his touch featherlight against your skin, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. He didn’t need to say anything; the way his fingers danced across your back, teasing and gentle, spoke volumes. You knew this was just the beginning of a night where time would stretch out endlessly, sweet lovemaking and pillow-talk filled with soft whispers and shared secrets, with him showing you just how lucky he felt to have you by his side.

[kingkatsuki]

— crush’d

You’re Bakugou’s one true love, but you’re curious to know if he’s had any crushes before you.

Warnings: fluff, established relationship.

Word Count: 0.9k.

You’d known when you first started dating Bakugou that you were his first proper relationship. It was something that never really bothered you, in fact it was quite the opposite. It felt nice knowing that you were experiencing things together for the first time, and with no real expectations you both formed the perfect bond. But there was always an inquisitiveness in your mind about Bakugou’s previous love life, and whilst there weren’t any previous girlfriends you were curious to know about the crushes he’d had before you.

“You must have had a crush on someone” You sat beside him on the couch, snuggled beneath a large Dynamight fleece blanket as you debated which movie to watch for date night.

“It’s only ever been you” Bakugou replies simply, his left arm slung over your thighs as his right hand holds the television remote. Sinking himself deeper into the couch as he relaxes after a long day at work, the slightest smudge of black from his hero mask still streaked beneath his eyes as his hair sits damp after his quick shower.

“Yeah, but you can still have crushes on people!” You pressed.

“I don’t have crushes,” Bakugou scoffed.

“I told you, silly.” You roll your eyes, “You must have had a crush on me before we started dating, right?”

You thought back to the times where Bakugou would appear at your workplace between shifts, spending a little longer than necessary on his patrol route in the same area in the hopes of catching a glimpse of you.

“Nah, you just annoyed me until we started dating.” He snickered.

“I think it’s the other way round, mister.” You gave him an incredulous look, “Do I have to remind you when you sent Kiri in to ask if I hated you because I didn’t see you when you waved that one morning.”

“Wait— I annoyed you?” Bakugou gave you a defensive look, his eyes widening in worry as he looked like a kicked puppy, “You said you liked when I came in to see you.”

“I’m only joking,” You snorted, “You’re too cute.”

“Shut up.” He grumbled, hiding his face back inside his hoodie as he gave your thigh a soft squeeze. Continuing to scroll aimlessly for something to watch on television.

“No, but seriously. There must have been a girl you fancied before me.”

It wasn’t that you were insecure in your relationship with the number two hero, it was quite the opposite really. Bakugou made you feel more wanted and loved than anyone before, even with his demanding career he made it abundantly clear how much you mattered to him. A fact that had your heart racing whenever you thought about it.

“Not really,” He shrugged, clicking onto one of the action movies on the screen to read the synopsis, “Didn’t have time for that shit.”

“Come on, Katsu. There must have been someone,” You squeezed his arm, “Not even asking a girl to marry you when you were five?”

“Nah,” He smirks, “Most girls were scared’a me.”

“So who was the first proper crush you ever had?” You continued, “Even just the first person you thought was cute.”

Bakugou stopped scrolling through the list of movies, nose scrunched slightly as he was deep in thought. You knew his friends would tease and taunt him for you being his first girlfriend in his thirties, the life of a Pro making it difficult for him to form any lasting connections— not that he seemingly wanted to anyway, too focused on his career goals than trying to settle down. But there had to be people in his past life that he found attractive, or at least crushed on growing up. Thinking back to the crushes you had when you were younger, drawing silly hearts around their names in workbooks at school or dreaming up fantasy scenarios of you getting married and having kids.

“Didn’t really get a crush on anyone until I was fifteen, sixteen.” He thinks.

“Yeah? So spill-“ You poked his side playfully.

“Off, woman.” He made a feeble attempt of batting you away as you yelped playfully, “Mirko.”

“Mirko?” You grinned, “The rabbit hero?”

“Yeah,” He chewed the inside of his cheek.

“That’s so cute,” You continued, “No wonder you have those action figures of her in your room.”

“They’re collectibles.” Bakugou corrected you with a scoff.

“Oh I’m so sorry,” You replied, sarcasm oozing from your voice as you gave him puppy dog eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. So what about you?” Crimson eyes look to the side to shoot the same question across to you, “Who’d you like?”

You thought back to all the crushes you’d had over the years, the older Pro-Heroes that used to cover your walls as a teenager, and the musicians that held your heart in their hands whenever you heard their songs. But you couldn’t think of another guy that had the same effect on you that Bakugou had, no one else felt the same.

“I don’t think I had a proper crush until I was a little older either,” You think back, “I did ask a boy to marry me when I was five though.”

“I woulda married you first.” He replies simply.

“Katsu, I was five.” You laugh, and Bakugou is certain you’ve never sounded prettier.

“So?” He scoffs, “Reckon I woulda known back then you were the one too.”

“That’s sweet.” You lean onto his arm to press a glossy kiss to the stubble against his jaw, the slightest tinge of pink glowing against his cheeks as he stays facing forward.

“Wait, who asked you to marry them?” Bakugou whips his head to the side to lock eyes with you, brows furrowed in irritation.

“Katsuki I know you’re not getting jealous of five year old me being proposed to.” You grin.

“I’m not,” He grumbles, pausing for a moment as you take the control out of his hands to start scrolling through movies, “But you said no right?”

[internetegoist]

Of Shidou Ryusei ; And how his character connects towards sexual trauma

(Content warning: Major mentions of SA/CSA and abuse, minor mentions for NSFW behaviour. Most of them aren't in graphic detail, but please please be wary of it 🙏 There's also spoilers for CSM and A Clockwork Orange)

Shidou's character is one of those that sticks with you throughout the entire series. It feels like we know everything about him, yet there's something so mysterious about his behaviour that makes you wonder, what's with this guy? We know how he acts, his violence and vulgarity injected in his brain and blood, but yet we don't know why he acts the way he is. It is very heavily implied that he went through a sort of restriction, born in a bird cage which he freed himself from through going to Blue Lock, but what is that restriction? What was the bird cage which trapped him? What was it that was holding him back from searching for freedom and exploring the world?

Since then, there's been a large speculation of theories on what his backstory could be. But one of them I want to talk about is about how his backstory is connected to SA, and how he could have experienced it at a young age. At first, I was extremelyyy hesitant to follow it due to how it made me a bit uncomfortable to discuss about, and how I saw a majority of people supporting the theory use it for shock value rather than a chance to devolve into darker topics. Of course, not the case for everyone who supports the theory, just from my own personal experience in the fandom.

But now, I can see the extremely, deeply discomforting vision on how this could be true in a way. From both his favourite manga and movie involving SA as an integral part in the story, to the concerning side of him being slightly revealed in the Egoist Bible. (Eg. crying at the end of the day, when he's feeling nothing or when he's empty, as well as his dislike of gifts)

Due to my heavy interests, I wanted to explore this theory into a more deeper matter. I decided to analyze more of his behaviour, as well as doing some of my own research. I must say, Shidou's behavioral manner can be one that is similar to those of SA survivors, especially male survivors.

Okay okay, enough yapping around. Let me get straight to the point.

Shidou and his instinct's responses

Generally after experiencing sexual abuse, one's entire personality will change. Every behaviour change is different for every sexual abuse survivor. Sometimes they'll isolate themselves more often, sometimes they turn into a much aggressive and violent person. Because the world has failed them, the world is putting them in a place where they are no longer safe and are more vulnerable. Because when your entire sense of self and personal power is taken away by your abuser, you are left with nothing but fear and new survival instincts. Why I bring this up is because Shidou's entire personality is built on instincts. His instant response to even the slightest hint of dislike or threat is to immediately beat them up, no matter who they are. A noteworthy thing to mention is that one of the main responses from males following sexual trauma is anger, because it is more socially acceptable for men to react that way. Attacking someone is the best way of defense, and Shidou follows this way of defense entirely. This also follows up with the stigma with the male ethic of self-reliance, in which help-seeking behaviours can be seen as cowardly or unmasculine.

It's most likely the reason why he also dislikes Kunigami's philosophy of heroes; Considering the fact his entire character is based on wanting to be free from restriction, he must have lived in an environment and/or went through a sort of restriction which influenced his ideals of "I can fend myself, I won't need anyone". The world he has grown up in was nothing but survival against the abuse he went through, so for what purpose should he believe in the principle of a savior, if he himself could have never been saved? It doesn't help either when in real time, there have been many cases where survivors of sexual abuse are either never believed when they speak out about it, or never speak out at all in fear of not being believed.

And besides the fact he uses violence as a defense method, one thing I noticed about Shidou is that during the time he was locked up by Ego for inducing violence onto Rin. We see him, perhaps for the first time, being calm and offering a promise that he'll make sure to stop fighting and hitting others, as long as he is let out of that prison he's trapped in. You see, a common reaction victims will use during the process of the SA is to freeze. To stay silent and still. It's like how animals freeze to avoid fights or further harm to themselves, or play dead in order to prevent getting eaten by predators. Although the outer self may seem to be in a calm state, the inside are on high alert, because they are afraid on what will be their abuser's next moves. The option to fight or run away may seem easy to those who haven't experienced SA, but to the victim it may seem harder than you think. Because freezing is a body's instinct response to abuse, and it'll stay frozen until the abuse is over, it's almost like a human's way of playing dead, so that the assault induced will end sooner. Among the instincts of 'fight, flight, freeze', Shidou seems to use fight the most out of the three. However, when necessary times come necessary measures, Shidou, perhaps for the first time, switches to 'freeze' instead of 'fight'. Not only because he basically, cannot physically fight anyone at that moment, but also because he is afraid. Afraid of being restricted yet again, afraid of not having the chance to live his life, which is to play football. The worst position to be in when you're being hurt or abused is limitation. You can't move, you can't fight, you can't run away from your abuse from happening. Nothing but hope that the abuse happening to you will end soon, that your abuser will stop hurting you. That's exactly what is so terrifying about the freeze responses.

Shidou and his sexual behaviour

If any fan knows anything about Shidou, it's that he's not afraid to speak out what's on his mind, especially lewd and inappropriate words. More or less, this can be connecting to something called hypersexuality. Accordingly, hypersexuality is defined as an intense focus on sexual fantasies, urges and behaviours that can't be controlled. Hypersexuality can not only cause distress, but also problems in school and workplace.

Survivors of sexual abuse cope in one of the two ways: Either by avoiding sexual or intimidate interactions entirely, or seeking said interactions on a large and unhealthy scale. According to this article, a majority of men who suffer from hypersexuality or sex addiction have been either physically or sexually abused in their childhood.

We see Shidou quite literally compare scoring a goal in football, to sexual intercourse. (And also the part where he says he's gonna blow his load, with Sae also dismissing it, but it's just partners supporting each other!)

By now, we know that two things that Shidou is unable to separate from each other is life and football. Both the act of life and the act of playing football is interconnected. Because football is something that allows him to leave a mark, allows him to be known by the world. Because football is a biological phenomenon to him, rather than just a sport.

And yes sure, this is supposed to be a connection to his philosophy of leaving a mark on others, so that you can be remembered. But also remember what he says in his monologue: "Those who create something, those who want to become something, and of course, those who make children." The way humans create life is through intimacy, through intercourse. The two people engaging leave a mark on each other through creating that life, that child.

And while speaking about his monologue of leaving a mark, Shidou also mentions that wounding others are a way of leaving behind a proof of existence. Inducing abuse whether it'd be physical, emotional or sexual, can also be one of the ways to make someone remember you.

The abuser leaves the mark on the victim, the mentioned mark left on them can be seen as PTSD or trauma symptoms.

Abuse is not something you can just simply turn away, forget or overlook. Whether the effects of trauma are short-term or long-term, they are there, they are a proof of existence that it happened. Shidou's inability to separate the physical act of football and the biological act of life's desires, especially sexual desires, can be seen as hypersexuality. Hypersexuality can also be seen as a mark left onto the victim. And it's extremely lengthy to recover and remove those marks left on you.

Of Freedom and Shidou Ryusei

I think Shidou Ryusei and his obsession with freedom is something so interesting about his character, yet so many people tend to ignore it as a significant part of him. Because imagine if one day out of the blue, your entire bodily autonomy gets taken away from you, you're trapped in a cycle of repetitive abuse onto you. When it's finally over and you have control over everything again, the world suddenly feels so utterly different. So what do you do? Of course, cling onto that freedom that is now yours.

Bite any other hand that may seem like it's trying to take it away, because if there is one thing you do not ever want to repeat, it is someone isolating you once more against the world. So hold on tightly to the freedom you now have, and make sure it stays with you for eternity.

All of Shidou's favourite things, his favourite film, manga and song, are also connected to this in a way.

It would take too long for me to get into detail about both Chainsaw Man and A Clockwork Orange, but I want to say that both media and their protagonists have approaches to freedom of life and choice.

In Chainsaw Man, Denji is a child that has been depraved of even the basic of human needs; Just like Shidou, he wants to claim everything in his current life and not return to when he had nothing when he was a child. In A Clockwork Orange, Alexander who in the beginning of the movie has been committing heinous crimes with no one to stop him, is captured and put through inhumane experiments in order to rehabilitate him. His entire freedom is taken away from him and for the next hour, we see him go through immense suffering and torture by those who he had wronged to the point he attempts to commit suicide through jumping off a window. In the end, it doesn't seem like his mindset has changed at all. It makes us question whether or not letting someone be free to do anything they want is the better option even if it hurts others, rather than attempt to isolate them in order to transform them into a better human being.

I would like to talk a little about his favourite artist. For a bit of context, hide is popular for being an icon of rebellion against Japan's conformist society, and one of his songs PINK SPIDER, is listed as Shidou's favourite song according to the official Blue Lock Egoist Bible. I've seen a lot of interpretations of what the song truly means, but the main story is that it's about a spider trapped within and kills anything near it. Because it wishes to free itself away, it steals a butterfly's wings. It attempts to fly, and fails, and tries again. Whether or not the spider did actually succeeded in flying away is unknown to us. But, that's not all!

Around the chapter where Shidou scores a goal, the commenter calls it a 'rocket diving header'. This can lead to one of hide's other songs in the same album as PINK SPIDER, rocket dive; a song with the similar approach of freedom but with different tones. Compared to PINK SPIDER, rocket dive has a more cheerful approach. In the end of the song, the star mentioned in rocket dive successfully flies away and appears as a new shooting star in the sky.

Which brings me to point out something: Shidou Ryusei's birthday is on Tanabata, a type of Japanese celebration called the Star Festival which is celebrated on the seventh day of the seventh month.

His name, Ryusei, is also a homophone for shooting star in Japanese.

Shidou, born as a star on the day where two lover stars meet, yet when he was born, he was not allowed to fly and join the others in the sky.

But he overcame everything, achieved that dream of having the freedom to do whatever he wants. And even though he went through all that pain, all that abuse, and most likely had to learn how to escape by himself through football before Blue Lock, he made it come true, like a spell.

And eventually, he learnt how to fly, and let the world knew who he was.

[whiteferraristurns]

𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ⚠︎︎ pure fluff, no use of y/n. (psa I will use my nickname if it’s implied because I don’t like using y/n or y/nn. Just imagine your nickname!)

Bri ༯ I absolutely hate the name but I couldn’t think of anything 😓

masterlist🪽

The air was crisp, and the scent of autumn leaves and cinnamon filled the streets. Halloween was your favorite time of year, a season you always looked forward to with childlike excitement. This year was no different, but the anticipation was a little heightened by the fact that she was spending it with Matt.

Matt Sturniolo had been your best friend for as long as you could remember, but lately, something had changed between you guys. A subtle shift neither of you acknowledged, though it was hard to ignore. The playful teasing lingered a little longer, the touches became more frequent, and you couldn’t help but wonder if Matt felt it too. Tonight, you hoped to find out.

The two of you had planned a quiet Halloween together—pumpkin carving, horror movie marathons, and maybe a bit of pranking their friends. Nothing too crazy. You weren’t the type to enjoy big Halloween parties, and Matt seemed to prefer the low-key vibe just as much.

You arrived at Matt’s house, carrying a pumpkin under your arm and a bag of candy in the other. You knocked on the door, and when it swung open, you were greeted by Matt, who had a lopsided grin on his face. He was wearing a black let’s trip six million hoodie, simple but cute.

“Finally, I was starting to think you’d bailed,” Matt teased, stepping aside to let you in.

“Please, I wouldn’t miss this for anything,” you replied, rolling your eyes but unable to hide your smile. You walked in and set the pumpkin and candy on the kitchen table. “Ready to lose in pumpkin carving?”

Matt snorted, crossing his arms. “Lose? You forget who you’re talking to. I’m an artist.”

“Oh really? Well, let’s see what you’ve got, Picasso,” you challenged, raising an eyebrow.

The two of you got to work, carving away at your pumpkins. The kitchen was filled with the sound of knives scraping against pumpkin flesh, interrupted only by the occasional joke or burst of laughter. Matt’s tongue poked out slightly in concentration, and you found yourself staring more than once, caught up in how endearing he looked when he was focused.

“You know, you’re supposed to carve the pumpkin, not murder it,” Matt joked, glancing at your slightly uneven pumpkin smile.

“Shut up,” you laughed, playfully nudging him. “Yours isn’t any better!”

Matt held up his pumpkin, which had a goofy, lopsided smile too, he wiggled his eyebrows. “I beg to differ. Mine has charm.”

You rolled your eyes again, but your heart skipped a beat. It was so easy with Matt—always fun, always comfortable. But that ease was exactly what made the idea of something more so terrifying. What if you ruined it? What if that shift you felt was just one-sided?

As you finished up your pumpkins and set them on the porch, Matt turned to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I have an idea.”

“Oh no,” you groaned, but there was excitement bubbling in your chest.

“Let’s prank Nick and Chris. They’ve been way too confident about their costumes this year,” he suggested, his voice lowering conspiratorially.

You grinned. “I’m in. What’s the plan?”

You spent the next half hour setting up fake spiders that jumped, eerie sound effects, and placing a fog machine at the front door of the house, ready to give Nick and Chris a good scare when they came back from their party. By the time you finished, your stomach was hurting from laughing so hard at Matt’s antics.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye as you leaned against the kitchen counter.

“Yeah, but you love it,” Matt said, his tone teasing, but there was a softness in his eyes as he looked at you.

Your breath caught. There it was again—that shift. The teasing banter still had that underlying warmth, but now there was something else too, something deeper.

“Yeah, I do,” you admitted quietly, almost surprising yourself with the confession. You looked down at your hands, nervous about meeting his eyes again, unsure of what you’d see there.

Matt stepped closer, his hand gently brushing against yours as he reached for a piece of candy from the bowl beside you. “Bri…”

You looked up, your heart racing, but before Matt could say anything more, the door swung open, and Chris and Nick stumbled in, laughing and talking about their night. The moment between you and Matt was interrupted, but the tension still lingered, unspoken.

“Yo, why does it look like a haunted house in here?” Nick asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously as the fog machine hissed to life.

Matt smirked, shooting you a quick look before answering. He went to the doorway of the hallway and said in a stupid voice. “Oh, you know, just getting into the Halloween spirit.”

“What the fuck Matt?” Chris’s voice rang through the hallway then being cut off by Nick screaming as a spider jumped infront of him. Sending you,Chris and Matt into a laughing fit.

Chris’s laughter also turned into a scream when he tripped over another spider. You clicked on the lights laughing at them. Nick and Chris turned with unamused looks.

When Nick and Chris finally went upstairs to get rid of their costumes, you and Matt were left alone again in the dimly lit kitchen. The room was quiet now, except for the faint music coming from upstairs.

You glanced at Matt, your heart pounding again. Maybe it was the Halloween magic, or maybe it was the fact that you’d always felt safe with him, but she couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Matt, about earlier…” you began, your voice soft but steady.

Matt turned to you , his expression unreadable for a moment before it softened. He took a step closer, his hand finding yours again, this time holding on a little tighter. “Yeah?”

“I don’t want things to get weird between us, but I can’t pretend anymore,” you said, biting your lip. “I like you, Matt. Like, really like you. More than a friend.”

The words hung between them for what felt like forever, and your heart was in your throat as you waited for his response.

Matt’s thumb brushed over your knuckles, and he smiled softly, that familiar teasing glint in his eyes replaced with something warmer, something tender. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he murmured.

Before you could process what was happening, Matt gently pulled you closer, his other hand resting on your waist as he leaned in, your faces just inches apart. His breath was warm against your skin, and the smell of his cologne mixed with the faint scent of pumpkin spice from earlier.

“Is this okay?” Matt whispered, his voice low and careful, as if afraid to push too far.

You nodded, your heart fluttering in your chest. “Yeah, it’s more than okay.”

And then, Matt closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a soft, sweet kiss. It wasn’t rushed or frantic—just perfect, like everything else with Matt always had been. The world seemed to fade away for a moment, and all that mattered was the way his hand felt in yours, the way your lips fit together as if they had always been meant to.

When you finally pulled away, Matt rested his forehead against your, both of them grinning like they’re lopsided pumpkins smiles.

“Happy Halloween,” he whispered, his voice full of affection.

You laughed softly, your heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. “Happy Halloween, Matt.”

Bri ༯ what we think…?? I honestly kind of like it.. ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍂 ⋅

[luvtak]

stray kids as cliche romance tropes

❀ pairing skz x gn!reader

❀ genre/tw fluff fluff fluff!! a smidgen of angst, slightly (like the slightest) suggestive, some are est. relationship, some getting together <33

❀ w/c 2248, about 200-300 for each member (do not ask me what happened with linos hehe

❀ a/n here it is!! this took me like a month to write lol so i hope its good!! personal faves are minho and innies, let me know which one is yours <333

Chan: Childhood Sweethearts

You’ve lived your life holding Chan’s hand.

You met in elementary school, immediately infatuated with the boy and his shy smile. He called you pretty on the first day of school and spent the rest of the year taking care of you: sharpening your pencils and sharing his lunch. Adults would coo and call it puppy love, laughing at the lovesick smiles adorned on your faces, but there was nothing childish about how you looked at each other.

Middle school is spent going to the movies and sharing ice cream, swimming, and sharing sweet laughs. First kisses in the fall and gumball machine promise rings given in the spring—it’s innocent in the sweetest way, forever is simple when you’re thirteen.

Teenage years give way to deeper feelings and new experiences; There was no question you were together—even if you never had the conversation, his hands locked in yours tells everyone what they need to know. High School is defined by stolen kisses on doorsteps and promposals, nights spent giggling into each other’s mouths to keep quiet. You think you know his body and soul as well as your own, like leaves plucked from the same tree.

Childhood eases into adulthood, and suddenly you’ve loved each other longer than you’ve been alive. There’s no question of a future together, no pressure to ask what you are or what you will be. Sometimes you wonder if you missed out on something, if it would’ve been better to have loved more, but when you see him there is no question. It’s easy together, a quiet breeze encasing you in his affections, and you’ll continue like you always have, hand in hand.

Minho: Second Chance Romance

When you saw him again, you didn’t realize it would hurt so bad. He’s gorgeous, somehow even prettier than he was a year ago. You think the grocery store is an interesting place to have this interaction—an unusual intruder to your midnight snack run, haloed by ice cream.

It’s strange, looking at him like you’ve never met, as if he hasn’t seen the inner workings of your mind or mapped your skin with his hands.

You can’t deny you’ve missed him, still grieving the relationship you thought you’d be in forever. You broke up because you didn’t feel appreciated, you were always unsure about how he felt, and he was always too busy and too cocksure to change that. So, you were certain he’d ignore you and you’d both go on with your lives, but when he sees you, he smiles.

 It’s such a contradictory thing, to feel at ease at his figure, but anxious to hear his voice. You know how he’ll sound, so soft and charming, the perfect mix of arrogance and kindness.

When he finally stands in front you, there is so much the same as the last time you saw him, yet distinct differences in how he looks at you. A year ago, his eyes were filled with tears and now they’re so bright it’s blinding. He tells you it’s good to see you, that it’s been too long; he doesn’t want to bother you, but he doesn’t know the next time he’ll see you and he needs you to know that he’s missed you.

When he asks to walk you home, you surprise both of you by saying yes. Sharing stories of the year spent apart and lamenting over lost days together. He wonders if you’ll want to do this again, if you’re up to trying another time equipped with more love and more patience. And how can you say no, when he came back to you like an angel in the frozen food aisle.

Changbin: Damsel in Distress

When you fell, you wanted to die. There you were in the middle of the gym running on the treadmill when you lost your footing and fell directly on your face. It was not your proudest moment, and you were dead set on never setting foot in this gym ever again, maybe not even leaving your house you were that embarrassed. Until you hear someone asking if you were okay, and suddenly he’s fussing around you and lifting you up.

Changbin has seen you here before, watching you work on the equipment, and fantasizing about coming up and introducing himself, but he’s never gained enough courage. It was in the middle of one of these daydreams when you tripped, and immediately he was filled with worry. Rushing over, he checked your hands and pulled up your leggings to see if your knees were scraped and introduced himself while putting band aids on your cuts.

He's cute and nervous, and you can’t help but be swayed by how kind he is. He sits with you while you recuperate and asks to take you to lunch to make up for the embarrassment. The whole time he introduces himself as someone wonderful, you find that he’s silly and so sweet. When he admits to have been crushing on you, you laugh and wonder why he never came up to you before. And as the day comes to an end, you come to be a little grateful for the fall.

Hyunjin: Fake Relationship/Wedding Date

Hyunjin has been your friend for a long time, and your family has always wanted you to be together—it’s been years of awkward questions and dinner invites. When your sister got engaged, she told you to bring a date, and single as can be, the only person to ask was Hyunjin.

At first, he was hesitant. He knew and loved your family, and the idea of lying to them and pretending to be your boyfriend when he is certainly not, is hard to stomach. When he finally agrees he still wonders if it’s a good idea, but seeing the bright smile on your face makes up for it.

The family is ecstatic when they see who your date is, and as the night goes on you start to see why they’re so happy—on a superficial level, you’ve always known how beautiful and wonderful he is, but seeing him  here all dressed up and smiling down at you, you start to see what your family means when they say you’re perfect together. You’re dancing and talking, and he becomes so much more than just your friend.

He’s always loved you, maybe not romantically, but he has. And something turns when he’s dancing with you, maybe it’s the lights or the music, but he can feel something shift. When he takes you home that night, he wonders if it’ll still feel this way in the morning.

Jisung: Best friends to Lovers  

You know everything about each other, it’s as if you’re one person—finishing each other’s sentences and sharing inside jokes. You’ve spent your lives together, yet it has been purely platonic. You’ve both had relationships and never saw each other as more than you are, until one night he looks a little too pretty under the TV light and suddenly you’re overthinking every little interaction you’ve had.

If it’s normal to be so close to someone who’s just your friend—If other people put their best friend before anything else, including significant others. Jisung loves you, that much is obvious, but you’re not sure if he sees you the way you see him; he takes up every inch of your heart, everything you do is for him.

In Han’s mind, you know how he feels—it’s so clear to him how you feel for each other, while unspoken he thinks his  actions speak louder than words. He’s just been waiting for you to be ready, maybe that’s his mistake; you’ve both been waiting to make the first move.

Your friends are frustrated, waiting for you to finally see what they do. Lecturing the both of you on admitting your feelings, but neither you nor Jisung want to mess with the relationship you already have.

When you finally come to terms with how you feel, you confess to your feelings like a crime, he tells you like whispering a secret you already know. Shakey and tired of feeling so overwhelmed with how big your feelings are for him, you admit to realizing how much you truly love him. All he can do is laugh, wondering why you were both so anxious to tell each other this one secret, when you’ve shared all the others.

Felix: Vacation Romance

When your friends decided to go on vacation, you could never have dreamed of meeting someone as wonderful as Felix. You met him three days into your three-week trip, and if you thought he was lovely from afar, he’s even sweeter up close. The relationship was eager, escalating quickly over the course of your stay. Within days you felt like you’d known him forever, sure that you were somehow meant to meet.

Days are spent in the sun, soaking up love and light—watching new freckles arrive on his cheekbones as the weeks fade. His skin is always touching yours, hands in your hair and kisses pressed into your neck. He thinks he’s a little bit in love with you, even so, the threat of the end hangs over your head; you never thought this would last, in fact you knew it would be too hard to continue, but you throw yourself headfirst into it anyway.

Your first kiss is cautious and your last is hasty, a million little touches in twenty-one days leading up to a goodbye. You wonder if you’ll ever see him again, or if it only worked because it was temporary. Your friends laugh at you, thinking you’re taking this little fling too seriously, but they’ve don’t know what it feels like to have his eyes on you.

The night before you leave, he tells you he’ll miss you, and you think that’s it—that the vacation will just become a romantic memory to look back on, but he asks if he can call you, and you think that maybe this could lead to so much more.

Seungmin: Opposites Attract

There was no question, you two were very different people—while you were bubbly and bright, Seungmin was often blunt and withdrawn. Sure, he can be silly, and you don’t think you’ve met anyone funnier than he is, but often he can be cold. When you first got together all your friends wondered how it would work, if someone as sunshiny as you could really feel fulfilled by someone like him.

What they don’t see is how effortlessly sweet he is to you, taking care of your heart like it’s his own. It was difficult in the beginning, to accept both sides of him—the outside version who would barely hold your hand and the inside one, thoughtlessly grazing your skin. He has so much admiration and respect for your open nature; sometimes he wants to be more like you, but he doesn’t think you’d love him so much if it weren’t for your differences.

 You balance each other in the best ways, speaking up for him when his social battery gives way; laughing away his jokes when they could come off too hard. On the other side, Seungmin allows you a respite from the constant smiles—it can get exhausting keeping a positive attitude, but he loves you in your quiet moments as well as your loud ones. 

He’s loved you for all your differences, appreciated you more for them—even if no one understood it didn’t matter because when it’s just you two alone together, there’s nothing different about you.

Jeongin: Boy Next Door

You can count your life in moments spent walking home with Jeongin—he smiles down at you, and asks about your day, and shares his snacks. Summers spent in each other’s backyards, learning to swim and ride bikes; telling scary stories and recitations of silly dreams. As you get older, he only becomes kinder and more handsome, offering to drive you places and invites you out with his friends. It’s only natural to have a crush on him, to feel stubborn butterflies when his dimples are directed at you, but as childhood drifts away and the infatuation becomes more intense, you’re certain you’re in love with him.

When you left for college, you didn’t think your heart would tear into pieces, but all year you missed him. You missed the sidewalk conversations and the sweet grin before he’d offer something to share—you missed sitting in his car, sat so close to him you can smell his cologne mixed with the leather seats, but mostly you just missed his body next to yours.

No boy at school amounted to him, none of them made you feel as giddy and charmed, none of them were able to mask the need you felt for him. You wondered if he thought that way about you, so sure that he was sitting miles and miles away from you, yearning for your company.

When you arrived home for the summer, it was almost like he was waiting for you. Perched on his porch swing and looking out on an empty suburban street. His hair had grown longer, and he seemed freer somehow, but he was still Jeongin—still the boy who’d walk with you and trigger your hundred-watt smile. And when you finally took your first steps outside and waved him over, he was still just the boy next door, smiling down at you.

© luvtak

[ambrosiagoldfish]

Innocent and Touch-Starved 18+

Hunter x GN! Reader

All Characters are written to be 18+

Warnings: Handjob, Incredibly inexperienced Hunter, First orgasm, First time Masturbating, Reader acts as a 'Teacher' to Hunter, Hunter may be slightly OOC but shouldn’t be too bad (he’s just a bit more submissive than normal)

THIS IS SET POST TIME SKIP WHEN HUNTER IS 18

If you don’t like, don’t read! It’s better for both you and me!!

Request Box: OPEN

As fluffy as smut could get

Word count: 1713

A/N: This was originally going to be NSFW HC's for Hunter but as you can see it turned into a small fic! If the writing style shifts part way through that's the reason why!

Not Beta read, We die like flapjack; could have missed some mistakes.

As we all know by now, Hunter really isn't familiar with the common concepts of affection or love. So something mildly sexual, let alone sex, is a completely foreign concept to him.

So foreign that if you started dating when he was still the Golden Guard, chances are you wouldn't have had any kind of sexual encounter with him due to him being overworked and generally touch-starved. 

It honestly wouldn't surprise me if he didn't even know what sex was as most of the information he learns comes from Belos, who,  being from the 1600’s, definitely has a warped view of sex. So him not wanting his “nephew” to be tempted by the desires of lust isn't all that surprising.  

But when he's free from Belos and living in the Human Realm is when he starts getting more open with you. 

It starts slow, he gives more kisses than usual, then he starts letting you hold him longer, closer.

He basically starts getting all clingy, and he's not really sure why. 

He thinks it's because he just really loves you (which is true) but in reality,  he’s just starting to get really horny after being touch starved for so long. 

Then eventually, you two are cuddling on the couch in the living room watching some movies. You both have been left to keep watch of the house while Camila, Vee, and the Hexside Quartet went out to buy groceries. 

Them being out of the house meant free hugs without any teasing from them, which was perfect for Hunter. So now here you two were, cuddling up in a blanket, watching a, honestly pretty boring movie marathon on TV.

Feeling a tad bit sleepy you lean further into Hunter’s chest, snuggling into the soft form beneath you. 

“I love you…” You Yawn out. 

His Ears darken with blush before he nodded.. 

He hasn't said I love you back yet, but it's fine for you, you know the kind of upbringing he's had, I love you's definitely weren't common place. 

Hunter’s face falls deeper and deeper into a crimson blush, the weight of your body, the warmth of your body is so close.

It's already way past the point of when His body gets a “tingling” feeling with you. He still has no idea what causes it or what it means.

Suddenly he feels you shift and let out a noise of discomfort.

“Are you ok, Y/n?” He asks, his voice low

“Yeah! Don’t worry Hunter, i uh, just felt something firm poke me and I was surprised hehe…” You chuckle awkwardly raising up to face him. 

Hunter’s confused “Something Firm?”

“Yeah, uh… there.” you point

Slowly, his magenta eyes follow the invisible line connecting your pointing finger and this “firm” thing, until eventually they land right on the bulging tent in his sweatpants.

He quickly covers his bulge with a pillow. 

“S-Sorry I didn't mean- This doesn't normally happen when we-” He stampers over his words

“Hey hey, don't worry Hunter, it's no big deal” He feels you lightly caress his cheek. 

Despite his face feeling hotter than the boiling sea, he calms down a little.

“Here, I can step out for a few so you can take care of it”  He sees you begin to leave

“Take care of it? What… Do you mean?” He asks sheepishly. 

He watches as you look at him in surprise. 

“You know.. Relieve it? By..  masturbating… “ You say awkardly.

“Mastur…bate?” Hunter says confused

He watches you walk back over and sit beside him

“Have you really never done that?”

He nods his head, more than a little embarrassed

“Well what do you normally do when it happens?”

“I just… Wait till it stops, it usually happens when I'm asleep and when i wake up it's already like this..”

He thinks back to all the times he would be late to training, meetings, and other Golden Guard business thanks to his ‘problem’ most mornings.

You both sit in silence before he hears 3 words leave your mouth

“I can help..”

He jumps back slightly 

“But only if you want me too… I would never touch you without your permission, you know that…”

 you pause 

“I can show you how to masturbate so that you will know how in the future…”

He thinks for a moment before nodding his head at you, “Ok Y/n, I trust you, please show me..” 

He slowly moves the pillow from his crotch revealing the tent in his gray sweatpants. He sees you smile warmly before you get to work.

Your light fingertips move to gently hold his face as you kiss him, freckling them all over. 

He watches you beneath him, slowly lowering yourself from the couch to the floor of the living room, your hands slowly making their way down his body as you plant your kisses, before they stop at the waist line of his pants.

He watches you pull back and look him in the eyes before asking

“Are you sure?” He nods sheepishly again. Slowly your fingertips creep under the elastic of his sweats before pulling them down in one toff motion.

From his sweats, Hunter’s Hard-on springs up, standing at full mass. Hunter looks away as deep crimson shades his face.  Having his ‘privates’ out in full view was the last thing he thought would ever happen, but here he was.

Hunter is afraid to see your reaction, but what makes him even more afraid is that he hasn't even heard you react yet. Slowly, he looks down to see your almost surprised reaction.

“Is… is it ok?” Hunter Asks, “N-normal i mean..” If he knew nothing about sex and masturbation, He certainly didn't know if his ‘privates’ were the same as other people his age or if he somehow differed. On top of that, being a Grimwalker came with many health related questions, this being one of them.

Hunter quickly calms down when you give him that soft smile and say, “Completely normal, and completely perfect.”

Your hand leisurely makes its way to his hard-on before your fingers wrap around it,

Hunter shutters at the touch and his back straightens “F-Feels good…”

“Good Hunter, just relax..” he feels your other hand knead his thigh soothing him to lay back.

Your hand begins moving up and down his shaft, your grip tightening and loosening every so often. Hunter’s voice began to come out, what were soft moans began to develop into loud groans that filled the room. 

“Y/n so g-good…” 

You sped up your hand at his words, “Try to pay attention to how I'm doing it ok? So You'll know later for later.“

Hunter nods his head, half lidded eyes watch down at you fisting his hard-on. The way your soft hand feels on his shaft, the wet slapping sound with each pump, it was all so much for him

“You’re leaking so much pre Hunter, you must really be backed up, huh?”

“P-Pre?” he moans out 

“Precum. It's what’s making your cock so slippery as I stroke it.”

“C-Cock?” All of this, all of this pleasure, this… experience, was really too much for him. 

You laugh “You really have a lot to learn Hunter,” You slowly lean up to his pointed ears,

 “Good thing I'm a good teacher.” you whisper seducticly.

With that, a knot in his stomach was tightening up rapidly, a feeling he has never felt before, to him it felt similar to anxiety, the anticipation of something you know will happen, but you're unsure what it is.

“Y/n! Something’s happening- it feels weird- I think we should stop-” 

He warns and tries to stop your hand pumping his cock but is stopped by your other hand holding his firmly. 

You quickly lean into him and begin kissing him. You start stroking faster, the slapping of wet skin echoed throughout the room as well as Hunter’s muffled moans.

Finally… the knot snaps, his body begins shaking, sending waves of pleasure through Hunter’s body. Hunter’s cock shoots load after load out, squirting on his stomach and your hand, as well as on the couch. The whole time you don't let up stroking his dick, making sure to pump as much of his cum out. 

After what feels like an eternity for Hunter, but couldn't have been a few seconds, his droopy eyes look down at you, exhausted.

“What… Was… that?” He huffs deep breaths inbetween words

“That was an orgasm or “cumming” and this is sperm or cum” you hold up your hand covered in the warm whitish clear liquid.

Hunter tiredly looks around noticing the mess on the couch and him

‘I… did all this?”

“Mhm, you must have been so bottled up” you give him a kiss on the cheek

“I need to clean it up before… Luz and the others… get back-'' Hunter says, huffing through his words as he tries to pull himself up but his body doesn't let him.

“Hey hey Buddy, shhh” You grab his head an softly lay him back

 “After such a big load, not to mention your first, you’re clearly spent out of energy. Let me do it, ok?”

“But-”

“Nope. No buts” You kiss him. “Wait here”

You leave before returning with some towels and some of Hunter’s spare clothes, you began cleaning the cum off the couch and your cum covered hand, then slowly, you undress Hunter out of his dirty clothes and help him into some new ones, before throwing them into the washing machine and turning it on.

You return to Hunter, who at this point is nearly fully asleep. You slowly ease onto the couch with him, he feels the soft weight of your body rest on his, he tiredly moves his arms to embrace you, as you pull a blanket over the two of you.  

“Thank you Y/n… for making me feel… so good.” He says, clearly in between a state of consciousness and asleep.

“Of course, anytime Hunter.” You kiss his chest

“I..” He starts, you look up at him

“I love you Y/n…” He says before fully drifting off into sleep

You snuggle further into his chest, closing your drowsy and love-stuck eyes.

“I love you too Hunter”

[trueangel420]

Kai Anderson, change ୨ৎ fem reader,established relationship, use of y/n, kai is a warning in itself. wc 1632

You remember Kai Anderson—not the political figure, but the fresh college graduate who sought understanding online. This is the Kai who cried at cheesy romance movies and buried his face in your chest when life felt overwhelming. He’s different now, scarred in ways that run deeper than his appearance. His eyes, once so full of life, now appear hollow—filled with sadness and stress. You miss him terribly, the sweet brown-haired boy who grappled with family issues. The ache of nostalgia pulls you back to that wretched town, that dreadful city, in search of the Kai you once knew.

"You look lost," a short blonde woman said, glancing at you. "I am... I'm looking for..." you held out a piece of paper, revealing Kai's address. you'd hoped he was still at the same house. "Ivy," the woman murmured, her eyes widening at the address. "You want to see Councilman Anderson?" you felt a jolt of confusion. Did everyone in this town know Kai. "Kai Anderson... yeah," you replied, noticing Ivy shift uncomfortably.

Yo stared at Ivy, leaning against the doorframe. "And... you know him?"

Ivy nodded, almost hesitantly. "Is he here?"

Ivy opened the door wider, urgency creeping into her movements.as you stepped into the familiar hallway, everything felt… off, you could hear thumping from the basement, like footsteps echoing off the walls you ignored it Moving toward the bedroom, you paused at Kai's parents door, now firmly locked. You touched the lock, shivering slightly. You glanced into Winter's room but shook your head; the house felt so empty. Letting out a deep sigh, you turned back into the living room and descended the basement stairs.

That's when you heard him—Kai's voice, loud and intense, echoing through the space. "I'm the only one you can trust. I'm the only one who knows the truth. I know things!" He shouted, and the sound of men cheering filled the room.

As you edged closer just to peak, you saw men sitting in camping bags, their eyes fixed on him, hanging on his every word. Kai's shoulder-length hair was now dyed dark blue, sticking to his forehead, giving him a wild, intense look.

"Fear is truth," he declared, his eyes closed as he smoothed out his white button-up shirt and adjusted his black dress pants. "Fear is truth," he repeated, his voice rising. "Pain is a call to action. Pain is essential, just like anger is. Take pain in one hand and anger in the other. Use them."

you felt a chill run down your spine as you realized how different he had become. you tried to stay hidden in the corner until something caught your eye—Winter. Winter sat near Kai, anxiously biting her bottom lip. you hesitated, torn between interrupting or retreating upstairs to wait. A nagging voice in your head urged you to leave, but the longer you watched Kai, the more you missed him.

Quietly, you back up the stairs, his voice booming through the room, oblivious to your presence. You glance around the living room, shuffling to the couch, unsure if you’re supposed to be there. The air feels tense and thick.

"He'll be done soon and come back up here," Ivy says from the kitchen, making you turn to glance at her. The short blonde woman looks around Kai's age, and you feel a flicker of curiosity. "Are you his... girlfriend?" you ask, biting your lip.

Ivy scoffs, shaking her head. "I'm dating Winter."

Your heart sinks slightly. "Oh."

"Winter's a lesbian?" Your eyes widen, guilt bubbling inside you. You realize how much you’ve missed—once so close to them, now you feel like a stranger.

"Yes, she is," Ivy chuckles, grabbing a chopping board and a knife.

"I don't understand what all those men are doing down there," you finally speak up, your gaze fixed on Ivy as she starts to chop vegetables. "I thought you knew Kai? I mean... he can explain what he does here," you add hesitantly.

Ivy pauses, glancing over her shoulder. "It's complicated. He's leading something... different now. It's like he's become a voice for those who feel unheard."

You frown, feeling a mix of concern and confusion. "But what does that mean?"

"You'll see," Ivy replies, continuing to chop vegetables, the rhythmic sound filling the silence. You watch her, the tension in the air thickening as your mind races. What has Kai gotten himself into? The uncertainty gnaws at you, making it hard to concentrate on anything else. You feel a mix of anxiety and curiosity, waiting for the moment when you will finally understand.

An hour passed, the aroma from the kitchen wafting through the air as you listened to the sturdy sound of boots climbing the stairs. You turn as the basement door opens, revealing Kai and Winter. Winter heads straight for the kitchen, not even glancing at you as you sit perched on the couch with a shaking leg, watching them intently.

Kai pauses, standing taller as he catches sight of you. His gaze travels over you—he couldn’t believe it. He doesn't say anything; his breath hitches in his throat as a wave of emotions washes over you both. "Hi," you speak softly, rising and taking careful steps toward him until you stand directly in front of him. He’s taller than you remember, his skin paler, a change that catches you off guard. The gap between you feels vast, filled with unspoken words and memories.

"I've missed you," you say softly, your tone gentle as always. For a moment, he’s taken aback, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity you remember.

"Let's talk somewhere private," he grumbles, grabbing your arm with enough force to guide you but not to hurt you. He pulls you downstairs, past the sleeping men, deeper into the basement. The room he leads you into is medium-sized and dark, lit by only a few dim lights. A desk with a computer sits in the middle, and in the corner is a small black table with two chairs facing each other. Kai leads you to the chairs and lets go of your arm, motioning for you to sit. You oblige, feeling the weight of the years you’ve been apart. You really do miss him.

"y/n," he starts, his lips pressed into a tight line as he holds his pinky up to you.

"I've missed you," you say again, this time your voice stronger.

"I... I've missed you too," he manages to get out quietly, his tone almost strained, holding out his pinky again. You know what he’s trying to do—your game of truth, a pinky promise not to lie. He always knew when you lied.

You hold up your pinky, intertwining it with his. "Truth," you say, looking directly into his eyes.

"Why did you come back here? To Brookfield Heights... to my house?" he asks, his eyes studying your expression intently.

"Somewhere along the line, we lost touch, and I don't know why, Kai..." you begin, your eyes locked onto his. "You're my best friend, Kai. I haven't heard from you in years—I thought you died, y'know? And then I see you on fucking CNN," you murmur, your voice tinged with a mix of frustration and longing. He tenses up at your language , his eyes looking away from you. A part of Kai knows it was wrong to abruptly stop reaching out. Ordering Winter to do the same had been harsh, but he had been building something significant. Now it was built, and he wasn't the same 27-year-old you had known. He was now 30, a political figure, and most of all, a cult leader.

"Sometimes you have to let the past go," he says, his voice reluctant. You tense, your eyes wide in disbelief. "Let the past go? Are you serious? Kai, you're my best frien—" He unlocks his finger from yours, slamming his hand on the table.

"Everything must come to an end. The old me died, y/n, a long, long time ago," he says sternly.

"You have to be kidding me," you murmur under your breath, grabbing his hand and interlocking your pinkies again. "Truth, are you pushing me away right now?" you ask, your eyes searching his face. Kai's gaze hardens, but beneath it, you can see his thoughts. You know him well, just as he knows you like the back of his hand. He’s tried to bury the part of his life that includes you, focusing on the cult, on spreading his chaos. To him, you’re a mere distraction.

"You don't ask the questions," he snaps, but his voice wavers just slightly.

"Don't speak to me like that, Kai. Don't speak to me like I'm a stranger," you say firmly, your voice tinged with hurt and defiance. He lets out a breath, his nerves fraying as anger and warmth wash over him. "I said, you don't ask the questions. I'm not the same person you knew. Let it die," he continues, his tone darker as he pulls his pinky away from yours.

"No, I won't just let it die, Kai. You remember—" you begin, but he cuts you off, the memories flooding back. He remembers everything—every moment he laid on you, venting about his home life. That past weakness now disgusts him, and he has sworn never to let fear plague him again.

"Shut up," he hisses, his jaw clenching. He shifts in his seat, leaning back, trying to control his boiling anger. He doesn't want to hurt you, but the feeling inside him is hard to contain. "You've changed, Kai," you whisper, swallowing hard. You stand up, looking at him. You want to cry, to mourn the loss of the Kai you once knew. Though he’s there physically, he feels like a hardened shell you can't break through.