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thankskenpenders · 3 days

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The Knuckles show

The announcement of a live action Knuckles streaming miniseries was surprising, to say the least. I mean, what would such a show even be about in a version of the Sonic universe with no Angel Island and barely any characters from the games around? Is he gonna go treasure hunting with the gang from Montana or something? Would a streaming miniseries have the CGI budget to squeeze in any new game characters, even briefly? Rouge? Amy? At least one member of Team Chaotix? Anyone?

Now the show is finally out, and it turns out what they actually made was a comedy show about bumbling deputy sheriff Wade Whipple, the minor comic relief character played by Adam Pally who you might not even remember all that well from the first two movies, with Knuckles as his sidekick. While, yes, Knuckles does get a decent amount of screentime and opportunities to punch bad guys and do cool moves from the games, large stretches of this show focus on Wade's personal life, to the point that a couple times I almost forgot I was watching a Sonic-related show. If you're judging it purely by the metric of how well it adapts and engages with its source material, this surely must be one of the worst adaptations the Sonic franchise has ever seen.

So then, despite some huge complaints... why do I kinda like it?

(This will contain full spoilers for the Knuckles show.)

A brief summary of what the show is actually about because I know half of you aren't going to watch it

The show picks up not too long after the end of the second movie. Knuckles is now living in Montana with Sonic, Tails, and the Wachowskis out of a sense of debt to them, though he doesn't really see it as his home. He doesn't feel like he belongs on Earth, and his life currently lacks direction. After communing with the ghost of Pachacamac, though, Knuckles is instructed to keep his culture alive by teaching "the ways of the echidna warrior" to a new apprentice: deputy sheriff Wade Whipple, who's currently more concerned about winning a bowling tournament in Reno than anything else.

Things are complicated by the interference of two rogue GUN agents - Agent Willoughby, played by Ellie Taylor in a bad wig, and Agent Mason, played by Kid Cudi. (Yes, the artist behind the second movie's credits song is one of the bad guys in this.) They want to steal Knuckles' power and sell it to a former associate of Robotnik's played by Rory McCann (The Hound from Game of Thrones), who now works as a black market arms dealer. Yes, they're still doing the thing where Sonic and friends' quills radiate some kind of super-energy that the bad guys all want. No, I don't particularly love this element of the Paramount Sonic continuity. Anyway, they go after Knuckles and Wade, complicating their straightforward road trip to Reno. Antics ensue.

The Wade show

So here's the thing. While the first episode focuses largely on Knuckles, the entire rest of the show is very much the story of Wade, and by extension the other original human characters invented for this miniseries.

Episode 2 is about Wade having to rescue Knuckles from captivity after the GUN agents get him. Knuckles spends most of the episode in a cage.

Episode 3 is about introducing Wade's Jewish family, including his slightly overbearing mother and weird sister, so that Knuckles can learn about their family traditions and have Shabbat dinner with them (and then save them from bounty hunters that the GUN agents hired).

Episode 4 only features Knuckles at the very beginning and very end of the episode, probably for less than a minute total. Wade is captured by a bounty hunter he personally knows, and Knuckles decides to let that be a trial for Wade to overcome on his own.

The last two episodes feature the climactic showdowns with the GUN agents and their arms-dealing ally, who comes in with a mech for the obligatory final boss fight. You'd think this would be Knuckles' time to shine, but really, these episodes are mostly about the bowling tournament in Reno where Wade encounters his estranged father, wrapping up his own personal arc. While Knuckles does get some fights, a lot of the finale is spent on lengthy bowling scenes where Knuckles isn't in the room or even mentioned. It frequently feels more like a spiritual successor to '00s sports comedy movies like Dodgeball, Talladega Nights, or Blades of Glory than it does a part of the Sonic franchise, and the presence of ESPN 8: The Ocho commentary in the finale only drives those Dodgeball comparisons home. They get so immersed in the bowling stuff that it's genuinely hilarious when the show suddenly pivots and remembers "oh shit we still need to do the final boss fight"

Throughout all this, Wade is the protagonist. He's the character we spend more time with, he's the character who drives most of the major events, he's the character who gets more of an arc. The emotional core is Wade's journey. Knuckles is still present - sometimes, at least - but he's there as Wade's wingman, and also just as the excuse for there to be some fight scenes.

How much Sonic stuff is actually in this show?

Honestly? Not much.

Sonic and Tails are only in the first episode. Sonic gets some good scenes, but Tails gets a grand total of five lines. I counted. Unsurprisingly, Jim Carrey is absent as Robotnik, though he does get mentioned a fair bit. (For that matter, basically the entire established human cast beyond Wade is absent, even including Tom, though Maddie is there in episode one.)

GUN is involved in the story, which helps it feel slightly more connected to Sonic, but it kind of feels like it's GUN in name only. They don't use any recognizable GUN tech, and they don't call in the military. It's just two agents in suits. They might as well be the Men in Black.

The Master Emerald is mentioned as something Knuckles has to guard, but it's never seen. Angel Island is pictured as a drawing during the show's intro, appearing exactly how it does in Sonic 3, but it's never referenced at all beyond that.

I guess the climax taking place in and around a Reno casino is a reference to Sonic's many casino-themed levels. That's something. I'll give them that.

Oh, and if you're wondering if this is the point where we finally start to get actual music from the games: no, it's not. The soundtrack consists of a lot of '80s needle drops, many of which are generic Hollywood picks like "Holding Out for a Hero" for the billionth time, thought it at least has some slightly less obvious picks than the Mario movie. The theme song is '80s rock song "The Warrior" by Scandal. You'll hear it many times. You'll hear the Adventure era Knuckles raps zero times in this. You'll briefly hear classic A Tribe Called Quest song "Can I Kick It?" before Knuckles takes the question too literally and breaks the radio in Wade's car.

Beyond a handful of surface level references for nerds (one of which is admittedly wild - we'll get to that), this is probably the least an officially licensed adaptation of Sonic the Hedgehog has ever tried to actually engage with its source material. I struggle to think of another Sonic adaptation that has less to do with Sonic. For as much shit as I and countless others have given Penders for seemingly ignoring the content of the games in favor of building his own convoluted mythos, his Knuckles comics honestly included way more elements from the games than this show does.

Somehow, the one new(-ish) Sonic character introduced in this is the ghost of Pachacamac of all characters. Not even Tikal! Pachacamac! A very minor character nobody has particularly strong feelings about! You can't even use the excuse that they already had the character model, because they completely redesigned him compared to his cameo in the first movie to better match his Sonic Adventure design. And he's voiced by Christopher Lloyd! Honestly, so many of his lines are strained that it sounds like he's on death's door here, but then he'll surprise you with a more casual line like "just do it, man" and it catches me so off guard that I can't help but laugh.

Pachacamac here has basically nothing to do with the game character he takes his name and appearance from. Where the game character was a cruel warlord who kicked off a 3000 year cycle of violence, Paramount Pachacamac is now just this chill old man who gives Knuckles (and later Wade) advice in two episodes of the show. Hell, he also feels completely disconnected from his established role in the movies, where he's literally the guy who shot Longclaw. The show will not grapple with this contradiction at all. He's just here to be a thing fans like me will recognize from the games. Again, if that's all they wanted, it's kind of baffling that they didn't just use Tikal.

I don't love Knuckles in this

But what about Knuckles himself? Well, he doesn't feel all that much like Knuckles to me. Ironically, he sometimes feels like one of the weaker elements in his own show.

Back when the second movie came out, I noted that Knuckles' characterization seemed to be pulling heavily from MCU Thor as a gallant warrior from an archaic alien culture who doesn't really understand modern day Earth stuff. That worked for me in that movie. It was just there for spice. Just a little extra flavor for the character in what was otherwise a very faithful adaptation of Knuckles' storyline in Sonic 3 & Knuckles. Without those familiar elements grounding him and with a much higher reliance on comedy, Idris Elba's Knuckles becomes a pretty one-note character in this.

In damn near every scene with Knuckles, he's going to say something about being a proud, honorable echidna warrior, or brag about his glorious feats of strength, or be confused about some Earth thing and call it sorcery, or act like every other character is also a member of some noble warrior clan. He still has his moments for sure, but this schtick kinda gets old fast, and it just doesn't feel like Knuckles to me. His entire character feels derived from the scene in the diner where Thor smashes the cup on the ground and goes "Another!" Sure, I can picture game Knuckles smashing a radio to turn it off and being a little too gung-ho about busting holes through walls. That's Knuckles behavior. But building a barbarian combat pit in the living room so the Wachowski family dog can fight the mailman? Nope. That's some other guy now. It really does just feel like them taking a broad character archetype from something popular that kinda sorta fits Knuckles and just running with that, rather than trying to actually adapt the character.

Oh, but don't worry, he wears the OVA hat for like two minutes! AND he loves grapes! See, Sonic nerds? We read the wiki! That's his favorite food! Grapes! This is gonna come up like five times!

Knuckles kind of gets an arc here, but not as much as Wade does. I think the stuff about him starting to feel at home on Earth thanks to Wade's mom and the way he connects with their Jewish family traditions is oddly sweet. This arc is kind of let down, though, by the fact that Knuckles' heritage is treated as a complete joke. He's a cartoonish pastiche of various historical warrior cultures stuck together in a blender and used mostly for comedic effect. When Pachacamac's ghost appears, he's reading a newspaper and bemoaning the fact that the Mets lost again. This is not the place for a serious examination of Knuckles' feelings on being the last of his kind.

This is far from the only time the show undercuts itself with its jokes and attempts at self-parody. In the first episode, for instance, Knuckles clashes with GUN Agent Mason and his tech-enhanced punches, leading to an extremely on-the-nose inversion of the "Do I look like I need your power?" scene showcased in the trailer for the second movie. Except this time, Agent Willoughby butts in and points out how stupid that line is in this new context, since they're literally trying to steal Knuckles' power. The fight can't just be cool, they have to get cute with it. A lot of stuff like that happens in this show.

Given all these complaints, the first two episodes left me thinking I'd be fairly negative on this show overall. This seemed like the version of the show from the fandom's collective nightmares, one that undoes all of the progress the movie series seemed to have been making towards faithfulness to the games. Like, just look at these cast posters. Is this what you want out of Sonic? Do these excite you?

But then, something strange happened. Over time, I just kind of let the jokes and shenanigans wash over me and basked in how fucking weird this show is.

And I started to actually enjoy it.

Look. The Wade & Knuckles Show was never going to be peak Sonic. But that sure as hell doesn't mean it can't be entertaining.

This show is so fucking goofy

Here's the thing.

The show is funny.

Unlike a lot of other people, I didn't hate all the wedding stuff in Hawaii in Sonic 2, because I thought a lot of it was funny, both in its actual jokes and in the ways in which they tied everything back to Sonic. Tom looking wistfully at some bodybuilders doing Top Gun shit and spraying each other with beer and being like "I wish Sonic had that" is weirdly funny. The twist that those muscle bros are all agents of the newly formed GUN, who orchestrated the wedding as an elaborate scheme to catch Sonic, is funny. Mr. Olive Garden becoming the fucking GUN Commander is VERY funny. Are any of these elements of my dream Sonic movie? No, of course not. But my dream Sonic movie was never gonna happen in live action.

The Knuckles show follows up on the comedy of the previous films by being probably the funniest live action Sonic release yet. Did every joke land for me? God no. There are some stinkers in there that made me roll my eyes. But enough of them landed that it worked out for me overall. A big part of this is the fact that they've got a good cast of actors and/or comedians here.

Adam Pally is funny as Wade, and I found myself liking him more and more as a character as the show went on. He becomes an oddly endearing loser, with some sweet moments in his personal arc that made me feel for the guy. I like Wade more than Tom now, thanks to this show. I will now be happier to see Wade in Sonic 3 than I would have been previously.

The supporting cast is frequently great, too, many of whom are playing completely cartoonish, over-the-top characters. They took a cue from how exaggerated Carrey's performance was as Robotnik and decided to just abandon all pretense that this is the real world. Stockard Channing as Wade's mom is funny, and carries some of the more sincere parts of the show. Cary Elwes as Wade's very British dad who abandoned him as a child to run off and be the world's most egotistical professional bowler is funny. Edi Patterson as Wade's sister Wanda is... well, she's kinda trying too hard, but she has her moments. The Mighty Boosh co-creator Julian Barratt(!!) as a scenery-chewing bounty hunter, who was also somehow Wade's former best friend and bowling partner, is VERY funny. I love this guy.

(Honestly, they should let more people who were on Garth Marenghi's Darkplace be in Sonic stuff. Where's Matt Berry)

This is kind of a stacked cast for a bunch of stupid side characters in a live action Knuckles show! And honestly, that just makes it funnier to me. Even when they're not funny, the fact that this exists makes it funny. They somehow convinced Paramount to give them a bunch of money to make a spiritual successor to Dodgeball about a schlubby guy who wants to beat his dad at a bowling tournament... except also Knuckles the fucking Echidna is there as his personal life coach. My life is richer for the fact that I can say that sentence. I think about all the little kids who are probably watching this show this weekend, going in expecting a show about Knuckles the Echidna and having to sit through extensive bowling scenes and lore about Wade's family, and sorry kids, but I just have to laugh. Wade isn't even on the poster! The poster is just a picture of Knuckles!! They punked those kids!!!

In a franchise where every single aspect is so carefully micromanaged these days, it feels truly special to get an adaptation this bonkers. It frequently appeals to the same part of me that enjoys the fact that there's an officially licensed Knuckles comic in which Charmy Bee's best friend (also a bee) dies of an accidental LSD overdose from a drug-laced chili dog. Or like, everything about the original 1993 Super Mario Bros. movie. Or the fact that they made seven direct-to-DVD sequels to Alpha and Omega, one of which is half a retread of the adventure from the first movie (with more annoying supporting characters in tow this time) and half a literal clip show of the first movie. The sheer absurdity of the fact that these things exist is charming to me. Except, with the Knuckles show, it has the added benefit of frequently being funny on purpose! This is why I'm not sure I'd call it "so bad it's good." Like, it's not amazing, but there were a lot of parts that I enjoyed in the exact way I was supposed to enjoy them.

Look. Here's a list of real lines of dialogue from the Sega-approved Knuckles the Echidna streaming show that they're billing as a pillar of the Paramount+ lineup, to drive this point home. Let these marinate for a minute:

"I only eat grapes, and Cool Ranch Doritos™."

"Annihilate this little girl, Wade. Crush her spirit. Humiliate her so badly her parents won't even look at her again." "Doesn't that seem like we're going a bit far?" "Not far enough."

"So is he Jewish?" "Half, I think."

"I had a friend who when he listened to Alien Ant Farm he could lift a Toyota Corolla over his head."

"I'm in dire financial straits. Due to my lawsuit against an unnamed rainforest-themed restaurant franchise, I don't have two pennies to my name."

"We're here in sunny Reno, Nevada, which is so close to Hell you can smell the sparks."

"You can't threaten me with your Jewish karate chops because I am a federal agent."

"I will say, regardless of how you feel about child abandonment - and I'm against it! - the deals at TJ Maxx can't be beat."

This is a Sonic show in which they got Paul Scheer and Rob Huebel to appear as ESPN 8: The Ocho commentators.

This is a show where Wade's mom insists upon pronouncing "Knuckles" with the throaty Hebrew "ch" sound, and declares that Knuckles is basically Jewish. Later, they watch Pretty Woman together while enjoying a nice slice of key lime pie. Knuckles comments: "I don't understand. This young streetwalker with a heart made of gold, why do the others treat her with such disdain? Is it so wrong to walk the streets?"

This is a show where the fourth episode is directed by one of the guys from The Lonely Island and features a hallucinatory low budget rock opera stage musical put on by the ghost of Pachacamac. It recounts Knuckles' life story, with Wade playing Knuckles and the "evil" Longclaw played by the bounty hunter guy who's played by the Mighty Boosh guy.

Look at this.

And also, Knuckles' singing voice is provided by Michael Bolton, which they proudly announce in the middle of the musical.

And also...

Also...???

IBLIS IS IN IT????????????

Yes, Iblis!

From Sonic '06!!

Knuckles is said to have looked for a mythical power called the "Flames of Disaster" to avenge his clan, which ended up being the power that was within him all along that lets him do fire punches yadda yadda yadda. As part of this, he apparently fought Iblis off-screen at some point, as conveyed with the giant singing papier-mâché Iblis in the musical.

...Then Iblis sings about hitting up Facebook Marketplace

How? How does any of this exist? Why reference '06 of all games? How did Iblis get into the live action Sonic movie universe before Amy and Metal Sonic? Why are they using Iblis and the term "Flames of Disaster" in such a goofy way that completely disregards their original context?

I don't know. I don't know how any of this happened. But I love it. We got a Knuckles miniseries in which Michael Bolton sings the phrase "the Flames of Disaster." The world is a beautiful place sometimes.

Some people will tell you to skip episode four. "Knuckles is barely even in it," they say. "It's dumb and pointless," they say. "They clearly just ran out of special effects budget," they say. These are people whose opinions you should disregard. The episode with the least Knuckles in it is somehow the most entertaining episode of the show. I would, in fact, go as far as to say that if you only decide to watch one episode of the Knuckles show to see what goofy bullshit they get up to, it should be this one.

I cannot be mad at this show. It's so dumb, but it completely owns the fact that it's a dumb and unnecessary spinoff. Inferiority is baked into its very DNA. It's very self-consciously redoing the premise of the first movie, but stupider. It's about The Other Cop from the movies, instead of the competent one. Instead of being into a "cooler" sport, his life revolves around professional bowling. Instead of going to Vegas, he goes to Reno. Even his tragic backstory that shaped his entire life sucks. He was abandoned by his pro bowler dad in a TJ Maxx. Not even a nicer department store. A fucking TJ Maxx. This whole show is a Dril tweet.

They put a ton of effort into making it dumb in an occasionally spectacular way. So much effort was put into that joke rock opera that fans will just write off as stupid filler. They put their whole pussies into it. This is not a poorly made show. This has better production values than half the shit made for Disney+. This was made with love. Maybe not as much love for the Sonic the Hedgehog series of video games as we'd like, but it's love nonetheless.

Maybe this show broke me and these are the ramblings of a madwoman. Maybe I'm just really nostalgic for the '90s and '00s comedy movies all the Wade stuff is modeled after. Maybe the Alan Wake fan in me just really loves it when a story pivots to a silly rock opera for no real reason. I won't discount any of these possibilities. This isn't high art. This isn't something I would recommend to anyone with zero interest in Sonic, and it also isn't going to sway Sonic fans who hate the Paramount universe. I really can't blame them for being bewildered by this show. But for a specific type of person, this is the absurd three-star Sonic-adjacent comedy miniseries of your dreams. It's a mid masterpiece.

Again, I just have to step back, realize the fact that this shouldn't exist, and smile. Sega's too afraid to do stupid bullshit with the franchise like this these days. And I can't blame them, after years of Sonic being a treated as a laughingstock. But part of me misses some of the goofy shit. No matter how much I tore some of the Archie comics apart as I was reading them for this blog, I just look back on stuff like Cal and Al or the Many Hands issues and laugh. And that same part of me looks at this show about Knuckles being the sidekick to this fucking guy, and just goes...

"We're so back."

In conclusion, I genuinely think this was a more enjoyable TV show than Sonic Prime.

I wouldn't go back and rewatch Sonic Prime anytime soon, aside from maybe, like, a couple of the Shadow-heavy episodes. Huge stretches of that show bored me to tears. The writers squandered all of that show's potential. But I would rewatch the Knuckles show, which takes a terrible premise and has a lot of fun with it, in a heartbeat. Even the bowling parts. The bowling scenes in the Knuckles show are more engaging than 70% of the fights in Sonic Prime. I am not trolling. I mean that sincerely, with all my heart. Don't @ me.

Stray observations

There is effectively zero meaningful setup for the third movie in this, unless Wade's family or the two GUN agents come back or something. Project Shadow is not mentioned in this. There is no secret post-credits scene with Gerald

The CGI in this is pretty good. Not quite on par with the movies, but pretty good. Sonic's weird forehead wrinkles are distracting in his scenes though. Please fix that

I wouldn't say I liked this as much as the second movie, which obviously gets a ton of points for, you know. The Cool Sonic Shit. But I had more fun with it than the first movie, which I still feel is a painfully generic family movie that was only saved by Tyson's redesign

"Grapes are an interesting choice for someone who doesn't use his individual fingers."

Agent Willoughby was apparently the one at GUN who had to buy the Olive Garden gift cards and set up the fake wedding. Her origin story is that she hated doing shit like that and wanted to go fight aliens

This miniseries contains another Keanu namedrop because Wade's childhood bedroom has a Speed poster on the wall. I swear, if Sonic doesn't say Shadow sounds just like Keanu...

Knuckles is familiar with Paul Blart Mall Cop

Near the end the ESPN 8: The Ocho commentators say that the 1974 Reno bowling championship was also interrupted by an extraterrestrial, and given that was exactly 50 years ago I can't write off the possibility that that was Shadow. Please for the love of god give us a sequel series after the third movie where Wade takes Shadow the Hedgehog bowling. I need this more than I need air

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htchnr · 1 day

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♰ 'bout damn time ༻ C. HOWARD.*ೃ˚

➻ masterlist. ➻ buy me a coffee!

CW ➻ mention of being a little hungover ⋆ Cooper being rude to Lucy (as always) ⋆ lowkey lovesick Cooper ⋆ other than that not much ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!

PAIRING ➻ the same reader x Cooper relationship from this drabble series!

SUMMARY ➻ after a while of travelling, seems all Lucy had to do was get rid of the Vault suit. OR, many times Cooper is nice to you, and one time he isn't mean to Lucy. WC ➻ 750~.

AUTHORS NOTE ➻ i'm taking a short break from writing! no longer than a few weeks don't worry! college finals are getting closer, plus life's getting pretty busy so i could use all the time i can get to take it easy and not over work myself. so here have a cute silly fic before i go on break 😁

Lucy notices Cooper's deep care for you through both little things.

those things would include giving you the first cooked skewer of meat off a fire, (not before he takes a piece off to taste or see if it might make anyone (you) sick.) he always has you walking in front of him, then Lucy in front of you. wether he does this so he can stare at your ass all day, or to make sure he can always keep an eye on you she'll never know.

he lends you his hat from time to time, mainly when your headaches are bad or he notices you could use some cover from the harsh sun of California. Lucy's even seen Cooper lend you his duster if it's particularly cold at night. hell, he even allows you to snuggle up to him for extra warmth. she mainly thinks he allows this so he can keep better watch on you, but a small part inside her thinks that he likes the comfort of your body against his.

despite him knowing you can more than handle yourself in a fight he always puts himself first, as if to scope out any possible things that could happen and catch whatever bad things come first.

and perhaps the thing Lucy has grown to adore the most, is watching Cooper wordlessly extend a hand to you — wether you fall behind a little and he reaches to hold your hand, or to help you get up. it almost feels like she's invading something intimate and personal when she catches glimpses of the actions.

the market is loud and busy, full of people buying and selling a wide range of things. you had moved through town in the hopes for a hotel, the last bounty having paid more than enough for a few nice nights of sleep.

"hey, you need anythin'?" Cooper asks from beside you as the three of you walk through a busy market. "i'll do an extra poke 'round for whatever."

you nod, "i'm good i think," you reply, and Cooper looks at you with that 'yeah sure' look, as if to nudge you to think harder. looking down at your thin coat, you sigh, "okay.. maybe if you can find a better coat anywhere? winter's coming up and it would be very nice of you?" you smile at him, another warm autumn breeze blowing past.

he nods, scarred fingers rolling the caps around in his coat pocket. "well i would like some-" Lucy speaks up.

"zip it Vaultie, didn't ask." he huffs, raising a hand to pat your shoulder. "i'll be back," he nods to you, looking over your shoulder to give Lucy a sour, unamused look.

you nod back, "if we're not here in a bit we'll probably be back at the hotel, my feet are killing me and last night at the bar was too much," you groan, rolling your shoulders. Cooper nods, walking off.

you huff with a small smile before moving along the market stalls to peruse for more med supplies. Lucy scoffs behind you, walking up to your side. you look over to her, brows twitching with tired curiosity. "hm?" you hum, as if asking her what's up.

she shrugs, "how does he keep doing it?" she asks, her face displaying her confusion and frustration.

you shake your head, looking over at a stall. "what do you mean?"

"switching like that," she adjusts her backpack. "he's shockingly nice with you, asking you if you need anything, then when i pitch in all of that is gone and he snaps," she huffs.

you wave her off, "it's nothing personal," you reply, eyes glued to a stall selling a bunch of clothes. "well, probably anyway." you pull Lucy along with you, stopping before the stall. "you know what might lessen his snappy-ness towards you?" you turn to her, her big doe eyes blinking back at you.

"what?" she answers.

"getting rid of that Vault suit." you point to the massive crate full of clothes. "pick a few things out, i'll pay, and we'll call it a uh, little experiment, yeah?"

she thinks for a minute, the Vault suit did have it's benefits, but it was also a blaring neon sign telling people where she's from. which Lucy has learned the hard way that that's usually not beneficial anymore. she nods, hands moving to start sifting through the pile of clothes.

the sun has long since set by the time the two of you got back to the hotel. you had briefly looked around the market for Cooper, but upon not finding him you decided to just head back to the hotel. you sluggishly walked up the steps, occasionally eyeing Lucy's new clothes. it sure took some getting used to, not having that hideous Vault suit to look at.

you stepped up the final stair, walking through the short hall until you reached the door of the room you were renting. you unlocked the door, finding Cooper lounging on a chair in the corner of the room. "hey," you offer, letting Lucy walk in before closing and locking the door.

Lucy eyed Cooper as you two came it, watching for any change in his expression. yet, she got nothing.

he groans as he gets up, grabbing his hat and chucking it on the bed you and him shared. he reached for something that laid on the bed, then chucked it your way. you caught the item, moving it around in your hands — a thick coat.

you grinned, "thank you! it looks my size too!" you put on the coat, grinning as it fits almost perfectly.

he cracks a small smile, nodding. "not a problem, dollface."

Lucy looks between the two of you, watching as you take the coat off and throw it over a chair. you set down your heavy bag and pull your boots off, throwing yourself face first into the bed. god that feels good, you think to yourself.

Cooper huffs, throwing his duster over your new(ish) coat. "c'mon move those legs, else you're sleepin' on the floor." Lucy's eyes widen, he'd never, right? though the tone in his voice doesn't hold an ounce of seriousness. well, just the part where he asked you to move.

you groan into the mattress, mumbling something he can't hear. "c'mon, move it doll," he grunts as he kneels on the bed, strong, scarred hands gripping your thighs as he shoves you to one side of the bed and goes to lay down not before landing a crude slap on your ass. he rests his head against the headboard, his hat tipped forward to cover his eyes.

you let out a long, tired sigh, turning to face him. you lay beside him, hands idly fiddling with one of his belts. you lean in closer, voice hushed. "y'know," sleep lacing your voice. "managed to get her to ditch the suit, it'd be nice if you would say something,"

Cooper's hairless brows furrow as he sighs. you let out a yawn, nudging your head against his shoulder as you slowly drift asleep, hands merely resting against his hip.

Lucy always finds herself quietly observing you two, watching the little strangely affectionate gestures between you and the man who seems to have it out for her. like now, she watches him sigh deeply, before lightly shaking his head.

"hey Vaultie?"

Lucy nearly jumps at the sound of his voice, even though it's quiet as to not wake you.

"yeah?" the corners of her lips almost twitching.

"'bout damn time you got rid of it."

Lucy's lips pull into a small smile. the comment might not have meant much to anyone else, but to her it was neutral, rather than his usual hostility. and she'll take any win, no matter how small.

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#⋆୨🩷©2024 htchnr #⋆୨⭐️cooper howard #cooper howard x fem!reader #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard oneshot #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul oneshot #the ghoul imagine #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #walton goggins #walton ghoulgins

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mountainsandmayhem · 13 hours

Text

God Bless The She Devil Who Made Joel Miller

Pairing: BFD!Joel x F!Reader

18+ only!!!

Summary: After a fight with your boyfriend, your best friend Sarah invites you to say with her at her childhood home with her dad.

CW: Joel be peekin, Joel is mean (but you like it). I’m choosing not to say anything else to not spoil anything so engage at your own risk.

AN: You can all thank @littlevenicebitch69 for this. She asked for being caught, but I am daddy and I know what she really wants 😉 thank you @mermaidgirl30 for being my forever beta xo

Graphics by @saradika-graphics

God bless the absolute angel who brought Sarah Miller into your life. She somehow convinced her dad to let you stay with them over spring break after your boyfriend locked you out of your shared apartment and then refused to answer the phone or let you in. Sweet, empathetic, and dependable Sarah was at your apartment minutes after you called her and didn’t have to say much to her dad to let him allow you to stay.

And God bless the absolute she devil who made Joel Miller and put him in close proximity with you. You have a boyfriend, maybe, you can’t be sure, but you do know you have it HARD for Joel Mother Fucking Miller. He’s exactly the type of man that would classify as a DILF, and you don’t even consider yourself into older men. But Joel isn’t older, he’s experienced and charming and every single thing he does seems to turn you on.

Sarah has been working a day shift at the local grocery store during the break and Joel is off running his contracting business. Joel Miller, sweaty and dirty and building things with his large calloused hands. Fuck, you try to shake that image from your brain because you certainly do not need another image of him to touch yourself too.

You have a job serving in the evenings so the house is quiet and all yours during the day. This afternoon the sun peeks through your curtains and wakes you. Sun dancing along the pale yellow walls of the spare bedroom. You pick up your phone and see that it’s clear and sunny, the perfect day to lay out by the pool that Joel said you could use, “make yourself at home, darlin’, any friend of Sarah is welcome anytime.”

You practically leap out of bed and into your ensuite bathroom to brush your teeth and get ready to lay out in the sun. You rush down the hall in the swimsuit Sarah lent you, a large blue and white striped pool towel tucked under your arm.

You love Sarah, but there’s no chance you’re wearing this ridiculous one piece swimsuit to tan, plus you’re alone so what’s the harm? Joel doesn’t get home until well after 5 pm most nights, Sarah usually around 3 or 4, and she’s seen you naked more than once. Plus the backyard is fairly private, most likely no one will see anything.

Fuck it, you think to yourself, slipping the red lycra straps off your shoulders and then shimmying the suit down your body. The sun immediately warms your skin and that boost of vitamin D already has you feeling lighter and happier. You spread the towel down on the chair and lay on your stomach, tying your hair on top of your head and then grabbing your phone.

You flip through Spotify before settling on the album Ten by Pearl Jam. As the first song floats across the backyard, you rest your cheek on your hands and let the fast paced grunge music wash away your thoughts of your boyfriend and what you’re going to do next week when you go back to school. All that matters now is the sun on your skin.

X•X•X•X•X•X•X

Joel was just about to start working on some paperwork for his next building when he heard movement in the hallway. You must be up for the day, he should probably let you know he’s working from home today, just in case. He wants you to be comfortable here, even if it’s killing him to see you wandering around his house in those small denim shorts you wear to work. Last night he was almost certain he could see your hard nipples peeking out from the fabric of your tight white t-shirt.

Absolutely not, Joel. He scolds himself.

He hears you pad down the hall and then the unmistakable swoosh of the sliding glass door to the backyard. He glances out the window in his office to see you slip the red swimsuit Sarah lent you off your body. His cock was already painfully hard behind his jeans.

She just turned 21. The Angel on his shoulder reminds the devil that’s tempting him from the other side.

His mouth waters as he looks at your body. Your tits are perky, pink little nipples hardening as the air hits them.

She's going through a hard time. The good side of his conscience seems to be losing but he finds an ounce of strength and looks away. He can’t be staring at you.

He tries to focus on this goddamn contract but even little deadline and “initial here” blend together and all he can see in the jumbled words of the page is that little strip of hair that leads to that bundle of nerves he so badly wants to suck on. When he looks up again you’re laying face down, round and perky ass facing his window and on display for him. She must not know he’s home, and now she’s going to think he’s a total fucking creep if he says something now.

She’s your daughter's best friend. No, she’s off limits. Beyond off limits. Get it together, Miller.

And then your music drifts through his cracked window. You’re listening to Pearl Jam. So now not only are you incredibly tempting but you also have the music of his teenage years blasting. He can’t resist anymore, glancing out of the window to see you still laying on your stomach and your plush ass bouncing along as you wiggle to Eddie Vedder singing about still being alive.

He’s not sure how it happens, his body seems to move without him knowing, and suddenly he’s standing at the window, staring down into the backyard at you. His muscular arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the large window frame.

He slows his breathing and focuses on you - every dip and curve, every freckle, every little bit of skin being absorbed by his heated gaze. Your legs are slightly parted, but not enough for him to be able to see your cunt, and fuck does he want to see it.

His palms tingle with the need to cup your ass, maybe spank you for being naked in the middle of the day. He has neighbors, they could see you right now. This is unacceptable and you should be punished.

Just as he’s about to head downstairs his cell phone rings loudly and you shoot up onto your elbows and look over your shoulder at him, eyes locking with his before a tiny smile crosses your face. Joel looks away quickly and grabs his cell, almost crushing the device in his grasp as he answers.

X•X•X•X•X•X•X

Joel Miller was fully lurking at your naked body, and while that should probably embarrass you, you need to get fucked. You need something, anything, to forget about that piece of shit boyfriend who locked you out and refuses to talk to you or let you get your stuff. Sarah told you when you first met that he had her when he was 19, so it’s not like he’s THAT much older than you. Plus it’s just fucking.

Yep, I’m going for it.

You gather the towel around your body loosely, hooking your swimsuit on your finger and twirling it happily as you head into the house, determined to confront him and then seduce him. When you head up the stairs he’s standing in the doorframe of his office, just across from the spare bedroom you’re occupying. He looks deliciously pissed, one arm propped above his head on the door frame, the other on his hip, knee popped out. Your pussy flutters at the thought of his large, angry body above yours.

The opening bars of Jeremy fill the silence between you two, almost daring the other to make the first move.

“Turn that off,” Joel snaps. “I’m working.”

“Didn’t look like you were working a few minutes ago,” you say back, matching his energy.

Joel’s eyes narrow, brows furrowing, but you can tell he’s fighting to keep his eyes on yours. You lick your lips, testing him, teasing him, pushing him to see if he’ll take the bait. The flick of his eyes to your lips happens so quickly you almost miss it.

You let out a scoff, “Ya, that’s what I thought.” You step towards him, so close that you can smell the coffee and sawdust on him. “Wanna take a break from all that work?” You say the word work teasingly, trying to entice him.

“Go to your room and put some clothes on. Don’t let me catch you naked in the backyard again,” He says deeply, then closes his office door in your face.

You smirk to yourself, dropping the towel at his door and wandering into your room leaving the door wide open. You hook your phone to the Bluetooth speaker as you lay on your bed completely naked. You hit the volume button and slip your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit in fast, little circles.

“Daddy didn’t give no affection, no

And the boy was something that Mommy wouldn’t wear

King Jeremy the wicked

Oh, ruled his world”

Joel whips his office door open looking absolutely furious. His breath catches in his throat at the sight of you. Bare, wide open, and soaking wet. You don’t stop, don’t even bother to look his way, as you dip your fingers into your pussy and cry out his name. Joel steps into your room and hits the power button on your speaker. The only sounds that film the room are your moans and the squelching of your arousal as your fingers slip in and out of your pussy.

“What the fuck did I just say, little girl?” Joel says darkly.

You open your eyes to look at him and the expression on his face sends your heart into your stomach. You’ve always been a little bit of a brat, getting in trouble lots growing up. Truthfully, you like the rush of it, the adrenaline of the unknown. But Joel looks dangerous, eyes blown out with rage and lust, hands clamped into fists at his sides, a slight blush pinks his cheeks, lips in a tight line.

You sit up, crossing your legs and covering yourself with a pillow as you turn towards him. You’re suddenly not feeling so confident, you may have pushed the wrong man.

“Y-you said outside,” you start, your voice wavering. “I’m inside.”

Joel moves so quickly that you don’t even have time to register what’s happening as the pillow is ripped from your grip and disposed of on the floor in front of you. You’re bare and exposed to him again.

“Spread your legs,” he says hungrily, voice a raspy whisper.

He watches your throat as you swallow hard, leaning back on your elbows and planting your feet on the edge of the bed. You look at him tentatively, jumping and letting out a little squeal when he barks, “I said spread your fucking legs.”

You relax, letting your knees fall open. His breathing is rapid, a growling moan leaving his parted lips. He takes one step, his knees hitting the edge of the bed.

“Joel -” you start.

“Shut up. You knew what you were doing, you wanted this. Didn’t you?”

“Y-Yes, but…” his hand slaps the inside of your thigh and your knees slam together as you cry out.

“Spread. Your fucking. Legs,” he repeats in a slow and deep command.

“That hurt!” You say back, squeezing your knees together tighter. It feels like he set fire to your thigh and you can already see the red handprint forming.

“If you’re gonna act like a little brat, I’m going to treat you like one. Now spread your legs so I can hit the other one.” He raises an eyebrow at you cockily. “If you keep them open, I might reward you.” You’ve bit off more than you can chew with Joel Miller.

You take in a calming breath through your nose, relaxing your knees as you exhale slowly. Joel can see the milky, sticky strings of your arousal as your pussy lips spread open for him. He has to swallow the excess saliva that pools in his cheeks at the sight. He wants to taste you so fucking badly.

“I think you liked it,” he taunts. “You’re makin’ a mess, you like being slapped around, don’t you? Treated like a little whore.”

Before you can respond he lays a hard smack on your other thigh. Your hips involuntarily buck upwards, your head falling back and a moaning, whimpering cry you don’t recognize as your own leaves your lips. You focus on your knees, fighting against your body’s instincts, keeping them pushed into the mattress.

“That’s what I thought,” he says as he kneels in front of you and yanks your ass to the edge of the bed. “Think you should get a reward now?”

“Y-yes, please, Joel. Please!” You have never had to beg for sex before, boys your age are usually fired up and ready to go, but men of Joel’s age know sex is so much more than just penetration - it’s a game, a tease.

He bites down on your thigh, “Please. Please, Joel!”

“You smell so fucking good,” he says as his hooked nose trails down your little line of pubic hair. You squirm under him as your clit twitches, aching for his attention. “And so goddamn wet. My little whore, aren’t ya?” His warm breath hits your needy clit and you flop down onto the bed, whining in need.

“Please -” but your words are cut off by the front door opening and Sarah’s voice calls through the house.

“Everyone can celebrate, I’m home now!!!” She yells jokingly.

“Fuck!” Joel huffs under his breath and bolts for his office, kicks your towel and swimsuit into your room, you follow and click your door shut quietly.

“Hello?” Sarah calls, heading up the stairs.

“Just getting dressed,” you call through your closed door. “I think your dad is in a meeting.”

“Put on your swimsuit, it’s gorgeous outside!”

Taglist

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44

@keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot

@javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565 @pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey

@lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog

@pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya

@iluvurfather @ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81

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royaltozaki · 1 day

Text

hickeys and swimsuits

sana x fem!reader - trailer ▸ part 1 ▸ part 2

synposis: day 3 on the set of the bachelorette and y/n has to deal with sleeping with her best friend, a messy group date, and a tender evening.

warnings: teensy bit of smut (a quickie in the bathroom), allude to sexual harassment

w/c: 7.7k

a/n: can you tell i dislike suju? you’ll probably be able to after this LOL

‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹

the decision to leave or stay if you’re the first one awake after a one night stand will always be unnecessarily difficult. luckily, or maybe not depending on how you look at it, sana’s grip on you would not allow for you to escape anytime soon so you let yourself be held, your head resting on top of hers, arms thrown lazily over her side.

you’re not really sure what came over you last night. after she had kissed you, you felt a need to finish what she started. you didn’t regret it though, but you were still yet to unentangle your feelings for her and what this meant for the both of you. if it even meant anything at all, it would be easy to brush it off as a spur of the moment decision built on pent up anger and lust from being untouched for so long. at least for you anyway, you weren’t sure when the last time sana slept with someone was, but you wouldn’t be surprised if it was with jihyo, she wasn’t really one for sleeping with people without knowing them first. but maybe you were wrong, you were learning so much more about her in these last two days than you have in years of knowing her.

you’re a little unnerved thinking about the amount of people sana has slept with. taking slight satisfaction in the purple marks that littered her neck, and the rest of her body knowing that you were the reason for them.

sana’s eyes slowly flutter open as you’re tracing one of these marks and she yawns, stretching with an adorable mewl and collapsing back into you.

“mmorning.” she mumbles into your chest, voice deep and laden with sleep and you can’t help but find it unbelievably attractive.

you brush your fingers through her hair, sorting through her knots. “morning…”

you lie there for a few moments, daring each other to speak first.

she’s the one who breaks the silence, always the one with more initiative, proven last night by kissing you first, “so……… should we talk about this?”

you hum, “if you’re ready for it.”

she whines against you, lightly hitting your chest, “stop that. i wanna know what you think without deflecting to me.”

you chuckle, “sorry, but yeah it’d probably be good to talk about it. i guess we can start with, um… well did you… regret it?” you can’t help the way your heart rate picks up, maybe you weren’t really ready to brush this off as a one time thing after all.

she places a hand over your chest, right where your heart would be, looking up at you with those eyes that you could drown in, “no. i don’t regret it. do you?”

you smile at her, thankful for the reassurance she offers, “no, i don’t either.”

she smiles back at you, her fingers drumming lightly over your heart, “is this… like… what does this mean for us? because i don’t want anything to change between us, i care about you too much to lose you as my best friend.”

you frown, “i care about you too… i mean… i don’t really know, like you’re still the bachelorette of the country right now like… how do you feel about that?”

“i’m enjoying getting to know these people. some of them really do have potential i think. this timing just kinda sucks huh?”

your heart drops a little at her honesty. you start thinking maybe its time to be a little honest to yourself.

“it does but that doesn’t mean i wanna just ignore this happened sana. i don’t think…” you sigh, thoughts all muddled and on the tip of your tongue.

her hand is trailing patterns up and down your bare back, looking at you with wide eyes. you would do anything to keep that face happy.

“you’re right. the timing does kinda suck. i guess we can just… keep this casual? assuming you want this to happen again?”

she nods, but an expression washes over her face that you can’t really decipher. “alright. casual. we can do that. just like, when we need a little stress relief or whatever.”

you nod, “and it’s just temporary until like you find your person here. wouldn’t want you to be sexually frustrated or pent up or anything and make decisions based on who you wanna fuck most right?”

“right! so you’re doing me an even bigger favour right now!”

“yep!”

you’re both laying there awkward now, talking in circles convincing yourself this was a good idea.

a loud knock comes at the door, and you’re both jumping, splitting to opposite sides of the bed. you look at each other a little awkwardly, you let out a small chuckle before getting up and pulling some clothes on haphazardly and answering the door.

it's one of the costume designers, "oh! y/n! sorry i didn't know you were in there, is sana around? it's time to get changed and start the filming for today."

you hum and let the woman in with her entourage of makeup and hair stylists.

but then one of the makeup artists quickly gasps as sana reveals her neck.

you turn around and blush, sana's still naked as the day she was born, there was no reason to put on clothes when she was going to get changed into new ones anyway, her blanket falling to her waist exposing the carnage that was the evidence of last night's activities.

the people in the room look awkwardly between the two of you, and you clear your throat and walk out, giving them some privacy, your head bowed and beet red as you make your way to the kitchen.

you dimly heard some scolding from the makeup artists, but thankfully no one came after you to tell you off or anything. hopefully the design team could keep this little secret under wraps, although you could hear the gossip and rumours going around already. you'd have to be more careful going forward.

sana's got an individual date first on the schedule today. so you decide to head over to the contestants' living area after you finish your breakfast and get dressed.

the drive over is short and you enjoy the light breeze from the slightly open window. you remember the slip of paper miyeon slipped you last night, pulling it out of your pocket and typing the digits into your phone.

you're not sure what the first message you should send her is. you're hit with the sudden realisation that outside of this show she was a literal model, she probably had thousands of followers and a life of her own with friends far above your social standing.

but she wouldn't give you her number only for you to discard it right? whatever, this wasn't anything to overthink, and you wanted to check in on how miyeon was doing anyway, you quickly type out a message and hit send.

y/n: hi this is y/n - how are you? settling back in at home okay? lmk if u ever want a chat or anything i'm here <3

you're surprised at her quick reply.

miyeon: hi y/n! it's good to hear from you. yeah honestly had the best night's sleep in so long, living in the mansion with all the others is fine and all but sharing rooms with sanghee was so not. that girl did not know how to clean up after herself and had the worst sleep schedule

you laugh a little at her antics.

y/n: right forgot you were kinda prissy. dunno if i feel bad for sanghee or you

miyeon: hey!!! i am NOT prissy! idc what ppl say abt beauty sleep and whatnot but you DO need it! proper quality sleep has been proven to improve skin, regulate emotions, and keep your brain sharp! it's a really important part of the day!

y/n: yeah yeah yeah i'm rolling my eyes btw since you can't see. but im glad ur feeling better rested miyeon, its gonna be real weird without you here now

miyeon: hey u got this. and im only a text or call away if u want a break from everything going on inside, ik how crazy it gets in there so having some outside perspective can be good for you

y/n: and im really grateful for that. thankyou miyeon <3 r u gonna watch the screening of last night's ep later?

miyeon: u mean do i wanna watch myself get eliminated? i think ill pass on that thx 😂 but the contestants always watch it tgt if u wanna join them - good to have some ppl to watch along with especially since its pretty jarring seeing everyone on the big screen and how things r all edited tgt. and seeing sana may come as a shock to u too u never know

y/n: yeah ur right im actually headed there rn since sana's going on a solo date and i have nothing better to do soo... also oopsies spoiler alert but ur not gonna leak anything to the media right ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

miyeon: who knows... call me prissy one more time and ur name's gonna be on the national headlines tmr fr ;P

y/n: u wouldnt!

miyeon: i would. jks ofc i wouldn't but since ur going to the mansion anyway make sure to talk to shindong and siwon and their whole boys club. now that im out i can give u all the inside goss and if sana ends up with one of those dicks well...

y/n: oo tyty ill be sure to keep that in mind

miyeon: ofc y/n rmbr anything u need we're friends yeah? don't be a stranger :)

y/n: thanks miyeon i rly do appreciate it! talk later :))

you turn off your phone, happy that miyeon was just as receptive and positive in the real world as she was when you were together. you had nothing to worry about after all.

‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹

the house is in complete mayhem as you step inside. apparently someone had accidentally set off the fire alarms so everyone was already up and about and still mopping up wet patches here and there.

you spot jacky and eunji in the kitchen and make a beeline for them.

“-if you had just kept your pants on!-“

“no don’t blame this on me you know very well that i need to air dry or i’m gonna get sick and i won’t be able to perform-“

you clear your throat interrupting their… certainly intriguing conversation.

“y/n! please tell eunji it is perfectly normal to air dry after a shower.”

“not when you’re living with 15 other people!”

“i’ve lived with more than that back home and they didn’t have a problem with it!”

“because you australians are always half naked for some reason or another anyway. but you can't pull that shit here!”

jacky rolls his eyes and goes back to flipping the eggs he’s got in a pan, no doubt making lunch for the them and the rest of the contestants.

“have you eaten yet y/n? there was a bit of an accident this morning so the kitchen’s been off limits until now.”

“oh yeah i ate before i came here, thanks though. how are you guys today?”

they share a glance, “i think you’re the one who should be answering that question. heard sana made you go home after the stunt you pulled last night.”

with everything that happened you’d almost forgotten how the night actually ended for most of the other contestants.

“oh right!" you laugh a little awkwardly, "we made up so everything’s all good now. i’ll probably be laying off the alcohol for the rest of these rose ceremonies though…”

“awwwh but you’re the only one who can keep up with me! all the other guys here tap out soo early and none of the girls want to drink.”

you laugh, grabbing some plates to help jacky and eunji plate up the food they’ve prepared.

jacky’s yelling at everyone to come get their food and you follow along, greeting everyone and moving towards the couch where they were setting up to watch last night’s episode of the bachelorette along with the rest of the country. it was being aired earlier in the day today because it was the weekends and the highest stream counts for the weekends would be at this time.

you slot yourself in next to jiwon who offers a kind smile, the complete opposite of the stink eye you feel heechul giving the back of your head after you’d essentially tried to get him eliminated last night.

jun is setting up the tv and when everything’s ready he rushes back over and plops himself down on the other side of you, throwing an arm over your shoulder in a friendly greeting and looking back to heechul and the boys club as miyeon called them, flipping them off with a tongue sticking out in defense of you. you laugh with him as heechul sputters and the episode starts playing.

most of it you had already seen, although you got to hear a bit more of sana and jiwon’s conversation during the childcare group date after you’d left, as well as her conversations with the other contestants on that date. she seemed to get along with everyone there, and the kids were a good conversation sparker, sana had picked a good bunch for the first group date. the camera spent most of its time following her around as you’d expect, but it included a couple comedic clips of the others being terrible with kids. you’re all laughing and teasing each other when you see dae fall into a pit of mud after a purposeful ploy from the kids, and aww and coo when jiwon finally lies them all to rest during their afternoon nap.

the episode also includes a few cuts to the contestants in the mansion, the ones who weren't picked for the group date, so you get to see a little of how they function as a house as well.

then comes the solo date.

everyone's a little curious at what wonsik did to woo sana to get him that first impression rose from the first night. he's still just as shy and awkward as you remember from your first few interactions with him on the first night, not that that isn't what sana likes, she just usually goes for the louder, boisterous types, especially on a first impression since those are the ones that draw people's attention around them.

the date was just as extravagant as the producers said it would be. they definitely spared no expense, and from the stats you overheard them talking about, this season of the bachelorette was definitely hyping up to be the most successful season so far, it had even gained international attention for its unique approach.

after sana and wonsik's helicopter ride overlooking the valley, they were situated in a beautiful dip in the valley, overlooking lush green fields with a soft breeze and the sunset in the background.

admittedly it was cute watching them play board games and feed each other small fruits, and apparently wonsik was a much better conversationalist when he was in one-on-one situations, even cracking a few jokes that had you and the rest of the watchers laughing.

you couldn't help the pit of jealousy growing in your stomach though. you could finally realise what it was and call it jealousy but it was probably just because you were more involved with sana than ever now and you weren't good with the whole non-exclusive thing. it would take some time getting used to for sure.

but your jaw clenches when suddenly, screen-wonsik is kissing sana.

everyone in the room starts whooping and clapping wonsik on the back. you can hear the mc voice-over talking about how this was the first kiss of the season and that wonsik was a lucky guy to be getting in so early but you drown everything out as you watch the camera zoom in romantically, hyperfixated on the way sana's lips reacted against his.

he's got a hand at her waist, shuffling in closer and she has a hand carding into his hair, your eye twitches when you think you see a hint of a pink tongue dipping in.

he's laying her down and crawling on top of her on the picnic mat and it feels way too intimate for national television and you couldn't hear the sounds she could be making but you sure as hell can imagine the soft whimpers and gasps because she was making those sounds for you just hours after what was happening on the screen right now.

finally the camera pans away to a long shot of the two of them against the backdrop of the sunset and the valley and cuts to another scene of the mansion contestants but the liplock seemed to never end, even after the camera stopped shooting.

wonsik looks terribly embarassed when you turn to where all the commotion is behind you, people congratulating him on how his date went, asking for any more details that the editing could have left out, some looking on in jealousy, and some looking a little sad.

everyone's attention is shifted however when momo walks in through the door, back from her solo date with sana this morning.

all of a sudden, people are rushing towards her, asking how her date went, what they did, whether or not they kissed, poor momo looks very overwhelmed but she's not entirely focused, looking behind her and smiling.

and then again, the attention shifts, sana walking in with a bright smile, in casual clothes and jeans, waving a bright greeting at everyone.

you're still sat exactly where you are, emotions festering up inside of you.

"wow it's crazy to be here during the day! hey guys! just dropping off momo and checking in on how everyone's doing."

the excitement of the morning culminates, and its almost like a rose ceremony again, with everyone vying for sana's attention, wanting to show her around, leading her out towards the gardens, talking and chattering eagerly.

eventually, you're left inside with momo, who offers a polite wave, sitting down across from you, wonsik, who was too shy to join everyone on the tour of the house, and heechul, siwon, shindong, and seungri, the 'boys club'.

seungri's laughing boisterously, congratulating wonsik on his date with sana.

"congrats man. wouldn't have known you had it in you. did you guys get up to anything else?" he's wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. you're disgusted.

"n-no. she pushed me off pretty much as soon as the camera cut away."

"aww really? cockblock much?" shindong's snickering along.

heechul's shuffling a little closer to momo, "how about you momo? how was your date? you didn't miss that much by the way, wonsik and sana kissed yesterday on the date, that's when you walked in." he tries to offer her a kind smile, but you notice the way she's cringing, moving a little closer towards you.

"it was good. we went to a dog shelter which was really sweet of her since she knows i love them and i've been missing my two dogs back home. even had my allergy meds ready because i didn't know what we'd be doing today, shows she really listens."

you smile at momo's response, glad to hear their date went well and your heart warming learning about sana's actions.

the boys had stopped listening halfway through, going back to teasing wonsik so it was really just you and momo talking.

"yeah we also got to talking a lot since we're both from japan and all. it was really nice to be with someone who understood what it felt like to move here and be homesick, it was also the first time in a long time that i had spoken to someone in japanese that wasn't my family so it was pretty funny, well at least for her, to watch me make an absolute fool of myself stumbling over basic words and phrases."

you're laughing, knowing how much sana cares about her heritage, you were glad momo was here to be able to share that with her, you were firsthand witness to some of sana's homesickness bouts and you knew having a sense of a home away from home was extremely valuable.

"oh?" heechul butts into the conversation again, "nico nico nii~! momo-chan wa onii-chan de yonde mo ii-yo~" (t: momo you can call me big brother)

you and momo both stare at heechul for a few seconds in silence, trying to decipher what the fuck you just saw with your bare eyes, before bursting into laughter.

he looks confused, breaking his cutesy character pose and pouting and whining, "what! did i say it wrong?"

you're wiping tears off the side of your eyes, "what the fuck kinda hentai have you been watching to learn that shit heechul-"

momo's still laughing, her nose scrunching cutely, "no like! i get the nico thing like that was huge in japan like in 2015- still weird as fuck to see a grown man doing it ten years later though-"

you're both laughing between words, drawing the attention of the other occupants of the house who are rounding out back towards the living room after finishing the house tour.

sana looks curious as she's led over, "momoring, what's so funny?"

momo's turning and grinning at the sight of sana, pulling on her arm and leading her in front of heechul, "heechul do it again! for sana pleaseeeee-" she turns on the extra charm, hitting him with a final, "onegai~?" and you could see the imaginary nosebleed he gets from the action, the type that's edited into animes.

so he puts his hands up, fingers placed in the signature nico position, "nico nico nii~! sana-chan wa onii-chan de yonde mo ii-yo~"

the repeat of his absolutely embarrassing gesture sends both you and momo into another fit of laughter, clutching onto each other in weakness.

sana's face goes red and she looks to be supressing her own laughter, but she gives in eventually, letting out a loud bark and slapping momo on the back with her hand, the other hand over her mouth.

some others laugh as well, whether at the cutesy action heechul pulled, or from understanding what onii-chan meant and putting two and two together.

heechul just stands there looking awfully proud of himself for being the 'funny' guy for once.

eventually, a producer walks in, tapping sana and sliding an envelope into her hand, and gestures for all the participants to sit down.

sana clears her throat, still giggling a little as she moves towards the front of the room, "well thankyou everyone for the tour of your lovely place. i hope you all enjoy the rest of your stay here. i've got this envelope in my hand now, with the names of the next group date we'll be going on." she waves the envelope around a little, and everyone plays their part, ooh-ing and waiting in anticipation, "8 people here will be helping me out with the iconic photoshoot date!"

all the participants look around excitedly, the photoshoot date was always a fan-favourite, and it always made an appearance on every bachelor episode, usually with a few group photo shoots and always with a one-on-one photoshoot that's super romantic and revered after.

sana lets the anticipation and excitement settle in, before dramatically pulling out the piece of paper within the envelope, unfolding it, and beginning to read out names, "sunwoo."

sunwoo stands up with a smile, moving over towards sana at the usher of the producers' hands, sana returns the smile.

"eunha." a short girl with a bubbly personality skips over.

"onii-chan~" sana teasingly drags out the word and you stifle a few laughs with momo as heechul beams and stalks forward.

"siwon, shindong, seungri, nayeon."

they all stand up and walk over, you notice sana has picked people that haven't been on a date yet.

"and... wonsik!"'

there's a bit of a stunned silence across the room as wonsik gets up and approaches sana, kissing her on the cheek and taking his place next to her.

wonsik was the only person in that lineup that had already had extended one-on-one time with sana, when some others like jihyo, (although you didn't really mind much that jihyo hasn't been picked for anything yet), hadn't had the opportunity for any time outside of this mansion. so it did seem a little unfair.

you feel your earlier emotions returning to you, the incredulity of heechul's actions completely forgotten as you think back to the full-blown make out session you, along with the rest of the nation had witnessed only an hour ago.

sana's giving a few general closing remarks, telling the chosen group date members what they need to prepare, and saying she'll be waiting for them out front once they're done gathering their things.

you can tell the mood's been a bit sullied as the chosen contestants rush up towards their rooms to change and get ready, the leftover participants left sitting on their hands with nothing to do for the rest of the day.

you say your quick goodbyes, heading off after sana since you would be tagging along on this date as usual.

once you see her though, something comes over you, the heavy, yucky emotions boiling up, and you pull on her arm, a little roughly, and drag her to the nearest bathroom.

"y/n?! what-"

you shut her up, pinning her against the door, locking it and connecting your lips frantically.

she gasps into you, but melts almost immediately, kissing you back with the same amount of intensity.

your tongue peeks out, swiping lightly across her bottom lip, she gasps, and you take the opportunity to gently prod your tongue into her mouth. her tongue comes up to meet yours and she moans when they touch, her hands coming up to grip onto your shoulders.

you're reminded of the fact that someone else was fortunate enough to hear these sounds yesterday.

and you despise it. snarling slightly, you break away, leaning down to kiss along her jawline, "you moan like that for him too hmm?"

she's breathless and confused, her mind muddled with the sudden attack, "w-what? who? huh?" she cuts herself off with another moan as you find the sensitive spot behind her ear that you discovered last night.

"you know- shy little wonsik." you take an earlobe between your teeth, spitting out the name, hands starting to move, grasping her waist, thumbing the bottom of her shirt.

"w-what? n-no- ah! no i-"

"no? you sure you're not lying? looked like you had a good time with him yesterday." you're moving back towards her neck, a hand dipping underneath her shirt and feeling the warm skin of her stomach and inching upwards.

"no what? y/n- fuck-" you're sucking at the sensitive skin on her neck now, "w-wait no y/n- d-don't- no marks-"

you're snarling again, "what? can't have wonsik or the others know you're already being taken care of?" you respect her wishes though, backing off but dropping onto your knees, pushing up her top and kissing her stomach. "fine. i'm marking you up here though. and you're not gonna tell me off this time because no-one-" you suck, "gets to see this much of you right?" biting lightly, "just me hmm?" licking along your newly formed hickey.

she's got her hands in your hair now, lightly pulling in the perfect way, bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she tries to keep quiet, eyes heavy-lidded and glossed over, looking down at you with an expression you just want to devour.

so you move back up, capturing her lips once again as she moans, subtly grinding her hips against you, gasping when your hand makes its way to her left breast, kneading softly over her bra.

a tweak of the nipple and she's a whimpering mess around you, pleading, "fuck fuck y/n please-"

you tut, "you think we have enough time baby?" you're other hand that's not teasing her chest undoes the button on her jeans. "the others could be outside waiting for you right now on the other side of this door."

"please! y-yes yes we have enough time just touch me i'm- fuck- soaked already it won't take much- please-"

you undo her jeans with ease, slipping your hand into her underwear, the other one still kneading and groping her chest.

"mm you are soaked baby." you trace down her center, "were you like this yesterday when he was kissing you?" you find her clit and rub, a little harsher than the way she likes but she leaks onto you at the action.

"n-no stop- ugh- stop talking about him y/n what the fuck-"

you continue your assault on her clit, your other hand sliding under her bra and pinching a nipple as she jolts into you, "get used to it. you're the nation's sweetheart right now. you and him are all they're going to be talking about after that show you put on yesterday."

her head lolls back, hitting the door softly as she groans, "h-he doesn't get me like this though. only y-you do- fuck- please y/n please just fuck me."

you don't have much time to keep teasing her so you quickly push into her, cursing at the way she clenches around you immediately, all tight and hot and wet. you don't waste any time, thrusting in and out of her as her head comes back down, biting on your shoulder to keep her voice in.

"mm- mm- faster- baby please-"

you take in her request, plunging into her and adding another finger, in and out, in and out. the wet sounds of her pussy filling the bathroom, you don't have too much arm space to move with her jeans still in the way, but you make do, conscious that the both of you needed to look presentable very soon.

you're pretty much the only thing holding her up now, her legs having gave way a while ago, your hand moving out from under her shirt, holding her hips up and against the door as you thrust into her, thankful that the lack of space meant the door wasn't making too much noise.

you feel her getting tighter around you, bringing a thumb up to press against her clit, "this gets you off doesn't it-" you're slightly out of breath, "knowing just a few meters away the guy you kissed just hours before being fucked senseless by me is waiting for you for even the slightest chance he'll get to feel you tight and hot around him like you are around me right now."

she's mewling, her face still buried in your neck, becoming impossibly tighter again at your words.

"they can't do it like this. everytime you kiss one of them, you'll know you're coming back home to be fucked by me."

you punctuate the end of your sentence with a curl of your fingers inside her, hooking on as she cums with a muffled whine.

and just in time too, when a loud knock on the bathroom door jolts the both of you, you pull out quickly and help zip up her jeans again while she recovers.

"sana? everyone's ready and waiting for you now."

"c-coming!"

her voice is scratchy and shaky, still leaning onto you as you readjust her shirt and comb your fingers through her hair, trying to make her presentable again.

you smirk a little at her word choice, stifling a laugh as you fix her, but she catches you, sending a weak slap onto your shoulder.

you step back and look at her, she's still breathing slightly heavily but otherwise no real damage can be seen.

"okay you're good."

she sidesteps you to check herself in the mirror quickly, adjusting a little. "jeez y/n didn't think you'd become so much of a sex fiend when we said we'd keep it casual."

you roll your eyes, "hurry up your lovers are waiting for you." you wait for her to go out first though, following behind closely as you greet everyone again, a little thrilled at having to act as if nothing happened in the last 10 minutes between the living room and the car you're getting into right now.

sana's her usual smiley self around everyone, and you take glee in knowing that just minutes prior you were literally inside her and pulling noises out of her no one else here would be able to hear.

‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹

the group date was certainly shaping up to be one of the most interesting dates of the season.

right now, nayeon, sana, and eunha were learning a short dance number together. their whole set was dressing up as idols so instead of doing a photoshoot, they were going to shoot a small tiktok so it could be used as promotion for the show as well.

before them, sunwoo and sana had done a black-tie sort of concept where they were dressed in a long suit and flowing dress with masquerade masks on. it was all very mysterious and romantic. siwon was also in the set but he was acting as a butler, it was tradition to have photoshoot themes where one contestant was always trying to get in between the set couple, both for some drama and some comedic relief.

the next set involved all the boys stripping down for a beach theme. you had a hunch it was also just to increase the sex appeal of the show. sex sells after all.

and so, sana was put in a tiny bikini, and you had to run from her glare as the makeup artist gaped at the newly formed mark on her upper stomach. so much for no visible marks.

you rolled your eyes as the boys whooped and cheered as they watched sana enter the set. you scoff as almost all of their eyes went straight to either her chest or her ass.

nayeon and eunha come to stand next to you after they're finished changing out of their outfits to observe.

the photographer is telling them the directions for the first scene, sana was going to be lifted up onto seungri and sunwoo's shoulders, you can hear siwon whining and complaining about how sunwoo already had his almost solo photoshoot with her and it should be him.

no one pays him much mind though as seungri immediately goes for sana, lifting her up easily as she squeals in surprise, and settling her on one of his shoulders as sunwoo quickly steps in so sana's rested on his shoulder as well. you squint at the way seungri is looking up at sana.

"ugh that was so unnecessary." nayeon is glaring at them as well.

"right, the way he went at the first chance to grab her ass," eunha scoffs next to her as well, "trust seungri to be as gross as ever."

you raise an eyebrow at the two of them, "is this a common occurrence in the house?"

nayeon shrugs, "seungri's an ass. they all are. except for sunwoo maybe." you nod, noting the way sunwoo refuses to look up at sana, staring straight ahead at the camera, a hand placed carefully over her knee just to make sure she doesn't fall off.

"most of the girls just tend to leave them to their own devices inside the house. we don't really interact with them unless we have to. the first night, jacky almost beat up siwon for shit talking eunji."

they're moving into the second position, this time sana's on her knees with a sandcastle in front of her, and wonsik and shindong are helping her build it, with the other boys goofing off in the background.

"what'd he say?" you ask eunha, eyes still locked onto the scene in front of you.

"some shit about how she ought to look more like a girl. take out the piercings, grow out her hair, cover up her tattoos, all that bull. and that's not even the worst part, he just kept going on and on and then he called her a dyke and that's when jacky lost it."

"what the fuck?"

"yeah. he knows not to say shit around the other guys that aren't in his group now. but he still takes every chance he gets to try and 'convert' us." eunha says in quotation marks.

nayeon chimes in, "doesn't see us as competition because we're girls. just more possibilities for him in case sana doesn't pick him in the end."

shindong has built a slight protrusion out of the sand castle, you can't really tell what he's doing but the photographer is muttering and calling over a few producers who look a little frazzled.

they move on quickly, directing everyone into the ocean for the last shot.

"miyeon told me to keep an eye out for them. guess she was right."

they both look at you in surprise, "you've been talking to miyeon?"

you shrug, watching as sana shrieks when sunwoo playfully splashes water her way, urging her to come in deeper. "she gave me her number after she was eliminated, i texted her this morning."

"how's she doing? it felt terrible watching her go instead of heechul yesterday. honestly had to question sana's judgement a little."

you cringe a little remembering last night, "she's doing okay i think. and-"

you're interrupted by a commotion in the water, and you're running in without thinking, nayeon and eunha not far behind.

by the time you get there, sana's already out of the water, an arm over her chest, covering herself as the costume people quickly go in and shield her, scrambling and yelling for clothes.

you turn on your heel, stalking over to the cameras you knew were filming and shouting for them all to be cut.

once you’re sure that no one is taking advantage of sana anymore and filming without her consent, you’re spinning back to watch as producers are trying to pull apart sunwoo and seungri, seungri sporting a nasty looking black eye and a bleeding nose.

you’re quick to rush over to sana first though, she’s in an oversized shirt now with a towel wrapped around her.

“what happened? are you okay?”

she sniffles a little, her nose slightly red, “yeah yeah i’m fine. the waves were just really big and i didn’t see them coming. my top came undone and i thought seungri was coming towards me to help tie it back up but he.. um, well…” she blushes and looks away.

you're livid.

the producers look thankful as you march up towards them, hoping you were there to help the situation, but you walk straight up to seungri, bringing a knee up into his crotch, hard, and when he keels over in pain, you swing an uppercut right into his face.

you would've kicked him as well if there aren't suddenly arms around you, yanking you backwards, and you let them, but then you get a glimpse of a stupid grin and you knew it was seungri's buddies pulling you away you start writhing. your fist connects with a couple hard spots and you smirk when you hear a few groans of pain. eventually, it's sunwoo who pulls the guys off you harshly, throwing them down into the sand and standing next to you, still glaring at seungri.

"you think you're real slick huh? think you could get away with sexually harassing someone on national television?" you're seething, spitting words out as seungri is still doubled over.

"couldn't keep it in your pants for more than 2 minutes you'd risk your entire career and face-"

"y/n." sana's stepping up to you now, a hand on your shoulder trying to pacify you.

"pack your things and leave seungri. i never want to see you again. you can talk with your lawyers about editing that scene out but i have a feeling it'll be left in because drama pays more than whatever you can offer."

seungri is finally up, still bleeding and probably sporting a broken nose now, "but-"

"you heard her. get the fuck outta here before we press charges." you step forward now, and he shrinks, afraid you'll go for his balls again.

security has finally arrived on scene and they escort seungri off the premises.

things are still pretty much in disarray after that, but despite everything, sana still powers through, rejecting the offer to stop filming for today, instead, picking sunwoo as the star of the group date, the rest of you are sent back to either get changed or head back to the mansion to get ready for the night's rose ceremony.

you desperately want a moment alone with sana to check in with her. but she seems headstrong on bulldozing through the rest of the day, and you're whisked away soon enough.

‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹

the gossip spreads quickly.

after you've gotten changed into your outfit for the night, a sleek white suit with your hair carefully done up, courtesy of the costume and hair and makeup teams back at the bachelorette pad, you're sipping on a flute of champagne, talking with everyone about how the group date went.

"-and she sent him home after." eunha's finished telling the story to a few gasps and looks of shock.

"i knew i shoulda clocked that guy as soon as he made that comment about jiwon's dress." jacky's muttering, fists clenched in anger.

"poor sana i hope she's okay."

"yeah she was really incredible tonight to be fair. the producers had asked if she wanted a break and to continue filming tomorrow but she said she wanted to keep going."

"and sunwoo too, i'm glad he went in there and defended her. as jealous as i am that he won i'm glad she has him right now if she wants to talk." nayeon speaks up.

jihyo's loud voice is suddenly shouting from across the courtyard, "guys! look it's sana and sunwoo!"

everyone's rushing over towards the beach where it seems they had a long walk down from the photoshoot location all the way back to the mansion. your heart's pounding, wanting so badly to be with sana right now, to listen to her, to be angry for her, to be the one pulling her into an embrace right now as the contestants aww at the two of them hugging with the picturesque twilight in the background, sea breeze blowing softly.

they break away eventually, looking up towards all of you who wave and holler at them.

then they've interlocked hands, slowly making their way up to the mansion.

everyone is greeting each other again, but the producers quickly cut it short, saying the both of them have to go and get dressed so that the rose ceremony can begin.

the group disperses with a grumble, and you find yourself following sana, the costume designers not paying you any mind as you enter the designated dressing room inside the mansion.

"hey..."

sana jumps slightly but relaxes when she sees you, "hey yourself. what are you doing here?"

"just wanted to check in on you."

she tuts, "you're sweet y/n but there's no need for that. he was an ass and i sent him home. we don't have to worry about him anymore."

"yeah but.. like it's okay to still feel affected you know?"

she turns around, "zip me up?"

you nod, stepping forward and carefully reaching for the zipper on her back, sliding it up slowly, making sure it doesn't get caught on any outstanding threads.

she sighs, holding her hair over one shoulder so you can slide the zipper all the way up, "i'm just trying to get through today. after today's done... well if i still want to talk about it then i'll tell you. okay?"

you sigh softly against her, pressing your lips lightly against the back of her neck, "alright. just don't try to do everything yourself okay? i'm here."

a hand comes up and rests over yours, "i know baby. thankyou. c'mon, let's get this ceremony outta the way so we can go home and cuddle."

you hum, taking her hand and letting her lead you out of the dressing room and towards the courtyard.

‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹

you're getting a serious case of deja vu when the last 4 people are standing.

4 people were meant to be eliminated tonight, but since seungri was asked to leave early, sana only had to pick 3 more to leave.

the choices were between shindong, siwon, heechul, and jiwon.

surely this time sana wouldn't make a decision that was too surprising.

"jiwon." you can feel most of the room letting out a collective sigh of relief, and the stunned faces of the three leftover guys you wished you could frame and put up. there were bound to be screenshots and memes made off them anyway.

unlike the previous nights, no one really moves in to say goodbye to any of the guys, just waving a polite greeting as they exit.

the mc comes in next and wishes everyone a good night. sana goes forward to mingle a little more, wishing everyone well before she comes back to you, taking your hand and pulling you towards the front of the house, eager to go home.

the ride back is quiet but peaceful. you're hands have never left each others and you enjoy the short ride back to your shared home. once the driver has dropped you off you both head inside, take off those godforsaken heels, and drop down onto the couch.

sana's head in your lap, as you turn on the tv, pressing play on a random cartoon, carding your fingers through her hair.

you can tell the day has exhausted her, so you let her eyes drift shut, and her breathing even out, reaching for the blanket kept next to the couch and draping it over her.

you could take off her makeup and change her clothes later before taking her to bed, but for now, you were content to watch silly cartoons with sana safe in your hands.

#sana #minatozaki sana #twice sana #sana x reader #sana x fem!reader #sana x f!reader #sana smut #sana imagines #twice x reader #twice imagines #twice x fem!reader #twice x f!reader #twice #royaltozaki

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killerlookz · 3 days

Note

Hello my fellow Criminal Minds fan! 😊

May I please request headcanons for Spencer falling for a female agent who’s cynical about love and relationships due to being hurt in the past?

a/n: thank you sm for the request! i'd be happy to write this for you! :-)

Falling in Love Again | Spencer Reid Headcannons

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader

content: mentions of reader having been cheated on in the past, uhhhh that's really it haha

word count: 1,478 (sorry she's so long)

Spencer Reid had always been excited about falling in love, the thought of being so close to another person- to share so much with someone was such a wonderful thing to him.

Especially after watching his mom and dad growing up, and the way his father treated her-Spencer was dead set on never becoming anything like him, he looked forward to treating a woman right and spending the rest of his life with her.

But, for as excited as he was he was probably 20 times more nervous about the whole falling in love thing.

So when you came around, and he started to experience that warm, creeping feeling in his chest- he felt a little bit like his world was going to end.

Spencer had never made a move on anyone before, sure he did make out with Lila Archer that one time but he didn't exactly initiate it.

Spencer decided just to channel all of his romantic interest in becoming friends with you, at least he got to spend time with you, that's what really mattered to him. Maybe one day it would turn into something more.

Well.. he hoped until he couldn't help but overhear...

"I went on my first date in months last night, and all this guy did was talk about himself the entire time- didn't let me get a word out, I mean, can you believe it?" Emily says, exasperated

You look up at her as she stands in front of your desk, "Oh, trust me Emily, I can believe it." You shake your head

"I mean," She throws her hands up, "What is it with men? What's wrong with them."

"Everything," You smirk, "They're men. I can't remember I had a good experience with one of them- never maybe?" You laugh. "I've given up on dating."

Your words sunk into Spencer's brain, leaving him with a heavy feeling all around he felt awful- not just about the fact that his chances with you seemed to reduce to zero right there in that moment, but because of how upset you seemed under your sarcastic exterior, he could tell you'd really been hurt before.

A few weeks later you're out for drinks with Emily, Penelope, Morgan, Spencer, and JJ. Amidst the loud, drunken conversations and music at the bar- you can hear the faint chiming sounds of your ring tone, Who would be calling this late?

As you take your phone from your pocket, your stomach drops when you see the number flashing on the screen. The mere sight of those 10 digits making you want to throw your phone to the ground and stomp on it until nothing remains.

"Ooooh, who's that calling." Morgan smirks

You look him dead in the eyes and respond flatly, "My ex."

Morgan's smile doesn't fade instead his smirk seems to deepen, "You two got a little thang goin on?"

"No," You shove your phone back in your pocket, "More like he's trying to get back in my pants after cheating on me- twice."

"Ooh!" Morgan responds, wincing, "So he's a dog."

"A pig is more like it." You scoff, "Who does he think he is. I can't even imagine giving my time to another man again, and even if I could- what makes him so confident I'd give him the time of day."

That familiar heavy pain hits Spencer again.

He's staring at you, and it's like the rest of the bar doesn't even exist. Only you, as you bite your lip, trying to hide any emotion in your face.

Spencer has become good at reading your emotions, maybe it's because he spends so much time with you- maybe it's because of how often he finds himself staring at your face. As much as you try to seem nonchalant, he could tell how upset you are.

Spencer would spend more time than he wanted to admit fantasizing about treating you well, about giving you the love you never seemed to have.

Every time you made a snarky comment about love, or how men had treated you in the past Spencer would want so desperately bad to just tell you about how well he would treat you, how he would never ever hurt you, how he would spend his entire life taking care of you.

The words were practically scratching up his throat, begging to be let out. But still, he would just swallow them down, and give you a sympathetic look, he couldn't muster up being able to do anything more.

At the very least, Spencer's plan of becoming friends with you was working.

The two of you would become very good friends.

Spencer would learn everything he could about you, he would want to know as much as possible.

Not in a weird creepy way- but in a he just thinks you're so amazing he can't get enough of you sort of way.

Every time you and Spencer hung out he wouldn't be able to ignore that nagging feeling, the thought of putting an arm around you and pulling you close, of holding your hand in his, or placing a delicate kiss on your cheek.

The thoughts would eat away at Spencer, and he would only fall more, and more in love with you.

Still, he would lose more hope every time you divulged information about your prior encounters with love. He couldn't blame you for feeling so cynical it, not after what you'd been through.

Spencer would think about his mom, about all the wives Rossi had been through, about Hotch and Hailey, about you- he would wonder why love had to be so painful for some people. He was sure he would never hurt somebody he loved.

One day you're over Spencer's apartment, watching a rom-com, and you make a snide remark, "Oh, real love isn't like that." You scoff and roll your eyes.

Spencer doesn't know what it is, but something in him makes him respond, "It could be." He says meekly

You look up at him, caught off guard at his disagreement, "Hm?" you hum

Spencer wasn't able to take it any more, he hated hearing your cynical nature. He would need you to know how you deserved the entire world.

"Love- It can be like the movies." He affirms his stance.

"Not in my experience."

"I would give you love like that." Spencer would tremble as he makes his confession, so unsure of what would happen next.

He would be terrified of your reaction, scared he was about to mess everything up, ruin any future the two of you had together, and even worse, lose your friendship.

"W-what do you mean, Spence."

"I mean, you always talk about how you've been hurt before, and it just-" He takes a deep breath in, contemplating what he's going to say next, "I love you, y/n," He looks down at his lap, then back up at you, "I would never hurt you."

Despite the obvious passion in Spencer's voice, you were still hesitant about it, but everything inside of you told you to give Spencer a chance.

Spencer would insist on taking things slow, you were his first real relationship and he wouldn't want to rush things, for both his and yours sake. He wouldn't pressure you to put a label on things, or even say you're "dating"- those would come on your own time.

Spencer was determined to make you believe in love again, and he would do everything in his power to make sure you knew without a doubt how he felt about you.

Spencer would often get to work before you to surprise you with coffee and a breakfast sandwich, or a donut on your desk in the mornings.

He would insist on having a date night at least once a week, even if the two of you were on a case, ordering room service or finding a local pizza restaurant way late at night was sufficient, as long as the two of you got to spend time together.

Spencer would be hesitant about PDA or really moving too quickly into being too affectionate, still, he would frequently hold your hand, squeezing it tight when he could tell you were stressed or upset- either by a case or by life in general, he just wanted to give you that extra reassurance that he was there for you.

Spencer would really put the work in, he'd exert more effort than you had ever seen from any past relationship into even the tiniest things.

Spencer wouldn't mind though, anything he could do to reassure you that he loves and cares about you, he would do it.

Every little act of love and gratitude would be worth it to him.

He would savor and cherish every hug, every shared glance, every peck on the forehead, on the cheek, on the lips.

It was all worth it to him, every second of it- all he wanted to do was make you smile, to make you fall in love again.

#spencer reid #spencer reid headcannons #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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grimm-writings · 3 days

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can i request chil eavesdropping on reader telling marcille about their crush, and getting jealous because he doesn’t realise that it’s him?

distant

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader

…tags! fluff, miscommunication, marcille being a gossip and izutsumi being petty

…wc! 613

…notes! making this short and sweet. hope you enjoy!!

Even with Chilchuck’s enhanced hearing, it’s difficult to miss Marcille’s loud gasps of shock whenever she hears anything that strikes her very core. You and the elf like to take the chance to gossip with one another when the day comes to a close. Chilchuck personally doesn’t get it, but that doesn’t mean he won’t tune in occasionally to something that catches his attention.

With a lowered voice, “actually,” you say, “I have something to admit…”

“Yes?” Marcille matches your volume. Anyone else probably wouldn’t be able to listen in easily, all except Chilchuck. What could even be so interesting that you can only discuss it this way Marcille?

“I think… No, I know for certain I caught feelings for him,” you whisper with a dejected sigh.

Chilchuck freezes in place as he was helping clean plates from the past meal. Izutsumi, who was joining him, spared him a glance. Noticing this, Chilchuck quietly apologises and continues the routine.

…Izutsumi’s foul stare doesn’t stop him from listening in on the conversation more.

“Really?” Marcille whispers, though with her excitement in tow it makes her voice sound shrill, which makes Chilchuck flinch slightly. “You figured it out?”

“Yeah,” you respond with a sigh. “Don’t think he likes me back– it’s like he’s giving me the cold shoulder.”

What? Someone would be stupid enough to be cruel to you? But you’re so sweet! Even observing from a distance, Chilchuck has formed a bit of a soft spot for you. He doesn’t get too close, out of his own rule of not forming interpersonal relationships.

He’d have to give that guy a piece of his mind…

“Ah, but he’s actually really sweet once you peel back the layers, you know?” You continue, confusing Chilchuck further. “He can be so soft, so gentle… But once he realises what he’s doing, he withdraws. He’s so distant.”

“So he’s sending mixed signals?” Marcille confirms.

“Mhm…”

A nasty twinge of jealousy twists in Chilchuck’s chest. Not like he isn’t used to it when it comes to you before. You really care for this guy? And he’s not even being clear with what he wants? Ugh, if only he could see him face to face!

Wait… Could it be someone like Laios? Or Senshi? Laios can be a little out of the loop when it comes to communication… and he wouldn’t doubt anyone would be somewhat enamoured with Senshi’s ability to care for someone.

Fixating on relationships is not what Chilchuck tends to do, but if it’s you, he wants the best for you. He really does, but…

“Oh my God, are you stupid?”

Izutsumi’s voice breaks Chilchuck out of his thoughts, looking up at the younger girl. Her own ear twitches, indicating she also heard the conversation. “They’re obviously talking about you.”

Chilchuck flushes. “What–”

“And you mock me for not being self-aware.”

“I’m not even that–!”

“Gentle?” Izutsumi scoffs. “Says the guy who tenderly carved a woodwork ornament for them. Get real.”

Embarrassment fills Chilchuck up and out of his ears, opening his mouth and closing it cluelessly. “...I’m not doing anything about it.”

“And let them believe you don’t like them at all? Sure, go for it.”

Chilchuck purses his lips hesitantly, putting the plate away. “If they want to confess, they will… I won’t leave them distant.”

Izutsumi only stares with little amusement. Relationships are her bane, but not in the way Chilchuck holds disdain for them. They make people stupid, like how Chilchuck and you are. She sighs wearily, finishing up the chore and returning to where she was relaxing.

You two better get over yourselves fast, if not for your own sakes, then for hers.

#✮ grimm's fics!#delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon x reader #delicious in dungeon imagines #dungeon meshi imagines #dungeon meshi x reader #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck tims imagines #chilchuck imagines

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drdemonprince · 21 hours

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Can you offer any (academic) writing advice for Autistics and ADHDers? You clearly write a lot and write very well and very clearly, so some insight into your process would be great. Personally, I tend to struggle with over explaining or over citing (cause I am always getting misunderstood) and that I get very fixated on not misrepresenting what my sources are saying to avoid feeling like I'm lying. All this is time consuming and makes it hard to say what I really want to say. Thanks!

Hi there! I've written an essay about a lot of this, here is the free link to read it on Medium:

Much of my writing process is inspired by the book How to Write a Lot by Paul Silvia, and it is specifically tailored to academics. The advice applies to people who write popular nonfiction or fiction just as easily, however. And he does have advice relevant to the self-editing and self-doubt you describe feeling.

The full piece gets into this more, but here are some of the stand-out tips:

Schedule a regular time to write every week and show up no matter whether you are feeling it or not.

Throw out all your magical thinking about what you "need" to be able to write. You don't need the perfect workspace, divine inspiration, the right pen, the right playlist. You just need to show up to write regularly, and do it

Editing, outlining, working with research notes, and drafting all count as "writing." Don't expect your initial drafts to be perfect or to equate writing only with getting new words on the page.

Try writing in public spaces to help get yourself in the mindset of explaining a concept to someone with a different frame of reference and type of expertise than you. Writing in a cafe or a public library can force you think and write in a more accessible way. (alternatively, you can pretend you are explaining the concept to a specific person in your life who you respect but who doesnt have all the same reference points as you -- sometimes this is called the "Grandma Test". Explain something like you are talking to your grandma.)

In addition to all this, I would add that you should read a lot of writing, both good and bad, especially work that isn't dry and academic. If all you read is journal articles, you'll write a journal article -- and most of those are hell to read, even for academics. read fiction. read bad wattsapp shipping. read substacks. read newspapers. read indulgent personal nonfiction in the cut or whatever. read reddit posts. notice what works and what doesn't. develop an ear.

and then write a lot! it took me 15 years to get good enough for anything i wrote to get noticed. you can expect to take many years to get comfortable developing your own voice, too. i dont know how far along you are, but even when you've made tremendous progress you'll only notice your flaws and feel the most turgid brain foggy moments. that doesn't mean you're failing.

also, to some extent you can embrace your citation-dense, precise manner of self-expression. we are living in a moment of maximalism and indulgent, long creative works. it's the decade of the 5 hour youtube essay and the 2 hour album. my 5,000 word essays do better than my 2,000 word ones. you should strip down unnecessary tangents and trust yourself and your reader a little more probably, but ive found that the more blatantly autistic and indulgent my writing gets the more the right people like it. a writer's flaws and their distinctive voice are kinda hard to separate. you're not for everyone!

good luck!

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ronintales · 1 day

Text

ೃ₊ 🌾 ❝ So When I Die ❞ ╰►, Gojo Satoru

𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒 | following gojo satoru’s death, his ex wife is in charge of taking care of his funeral service and everything else that comes with it.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 | 4,676 words

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | character death, possible spoilers, funeral, angst, and not proofread ;p

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 | I did NAWT want this to be my first work on here but due to certain circumstances…. AHEM his DEATH!!!! I felt it was necessary because laik… grief LOL. I wrote this a while back tho. Enjoy.

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ♡ ༘° 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒓, gojo satoru …

Your ex-husband is dead, and in his line of work, yes, you know that he has a higher risk of dying than the average person, but still, death never comes expected, does it? Even if he always says—oh wait… used to, you suppose, say that he was crazy strong and no one could ever take him down. Well, he was wrong in the end like a bunch of other things. Like how well he took care of you, how he’d give you six kids, how—you won’t ramble, noting he’s dead now and there’s no point, but also because it’s quite rude of you to talk down on someone who is dead and can’t defend themselves. Whatever.

You just… don’t expect it. Yes, you understood he was hard headed and insanely cocky, but in a way… you always believed that he would always come home alive and, even if he did get hurt, he would be okay eventually as he heals. You don’t forget it, he’s only human, you know because of the many mistakes he’s made, but still… he’s… he’s gone?

You hesitated when you heard that. Gojo Satoru, the so-called love of your life from two years ago, is dead? Impossible, you think. Gojo Satoru found death embarrassing, with all the things he said. He said that he would be okay. He was always okay. What are you supposed to say to that?

When you get the call, you wonder why you, of all the people in his life, were the one they called to inform about his status. Why did you have to go to his place and clean out all his things? Take all his belongings with you? At first, your instinct was to say “throw it all away,” because what does Gojo Satoru mean to you now? You’re not his wife! He neglected you for years and filled your days and nights with sorrows. He broke your heart. But still, he didn’t mean nothing to you at the same time.

Those precious years of being his acquaintance in middle school. When you had shorter hair and he didn’t know much about you other than you were in his class and he had bought you cute white socks for your class gift exchange on Christmas that year. The long years that Gojo Satoru pined for you after you both attended the same high school. The hard and dark times he went through losing Suguru and shutting you out, though he loved you for so long. When you turned twenty, and Satoru had gotten better, to the point where he felt he was ready to move on and continue with his pursuit for you. When you turned twenty-three, and got married to him on a spur. When you moved in and shared a bed, until the marriage got cold and most nights you spent alone.

You couldn’t say for the past fourteen years, Gojo Satoru was nothing at all to you. The news was shocking, and knowing he was dead… did you have to be careful about how you felt about him, or how you thought of him? Well, now that he is dead, should you be so ruthless and hostile toward the man who broke your heart? You don’t know, so naturally, and it really just slips out, you agree to take care of the process of his passing.

For the most part, you’re calm. You don’t actually know how to feel, and you don’t know how to be. You’re not his wife, you have no obligations to take care of him, or anything that he cared about. Yet, you’re here. In his lonely apartment that doesn’t even smell like him. He probably never even spent much time in this place, even so, he still had a lot of belongings. Pictures of you in frames surprisingly. He did take them all when you got divorced and he moved out of the house, you just didn’t expect that he’d put them up on display. He probably didn’t get many visitors to question him about the lady in his pictures. You were sure that would get annoying.

Anyway, you don’t know if you’re supposed to cry or even feel sad. You don’t know if it’s strange to feel that way or not. You can’t quite make out how you feel, being surrounded by Gojo Satoru’s personality and things. You don’t think too much about the things inside the apartment because you don’t want to be too reminded of what you used to be. What you felt about the man once upon a time. If there was still love in your heart for him.

Gojo Satoru wasn’t a slob, but he wasn’t clean either by any means. Given he probably didn’t stay here much, it made sense that you didn’t need to clean a whole lot of the apartment. You get there and you take it all in. Satoru’s little apartment, because he didn’t want to pay for such a luxurious place he wouldn’t even stay in. Maybe that kind of place made him feel more alone too. Thoughts you should not be thinking start to trickle into your brain, but you stop yourself. You shouldn’t feel bad for leaving, nor should you want to go back. You made a decision to leave and you should honor it. It was the right thing to do for yourself (hopefully).

Do you even want his things? No, not really. But you have a keep, donate, and a throw away bin anyway. Most of it keeps going to the keep bin and donation box. Somehow the feeling of someone else getting Gojo Satoru’s things is unsettling to you, but it’s even worse to think that all these things will just go to a landfill where things that were once valued are forgotten and it’s all going to be considered “trash.” Maybe that’s because you know why every item is there and the story behind that certain mug or decor piece. You don’t know it, but you’re trying your best not to care.

You sigh, the thought that this is all so strange, bothering and pestering you like an annoying fly. You tell yourself you know that already, so stop thinking about it. Maybe you’re in denial that Gojo Satoru is actually gone. You can feel him. He’s still there, you know it. That or you’re just surrounded by his belongings and that’s why his presence is here.

In your hand, you hold a big black garbage bag as you make your way to his bedroom to clear out his closet. This is a room of his that you haven’t been to, strange right? You wondered if another woman spent time here. Jealous much? You’re supposed to be clearing out your ex-husband’s apartment, not pondering about what he was up to after you two had split. The man is dead for one, what are you going to do about it? Confront his dead body? You shouldn’t be thinking about things like that, so that thought is one you shake off and ignore too.

You sigh because you’re tired from cleaning all day and clearing his things out and you’re probably only a quarter’s way done with the place. It’s not even that big, it’s just been uncomfortably hard for you to bring yourself here with your mixed and strange feelings about this whole situation. Isn’t there anyone else who cares about Gojo Satoru? How come you’re stepping up to the plate when this is how you feel—confused and unsure? What are you even going to do for the funeral? You took the task up because Gojo Satoru would probably turn in his grave knowing the higher ups organized his funeral. So while it is strange for you to do all of this, you’ve rationalized the lot of this situation that you put yourself in. Once upon a time, he loved you right? So surely he would prefer you over—you’re so silly, thinking all these things when Gojo Satoru is your dead ex-husband.

You plop on the bed with a small groan as you turn over. This is a bit inappropriate, to be laying on your ex husband’s unmade bed. It’s left in the state that it was the last time he woke up. That’s a little precious you think, freely, not even denying it. Are you ruining this precious thing here? Well, in all honesty, you’re kind of cherishing it, because this is a small piece of Satoru that is really still here in the present times. He always liked soft things and this blanket is soft. The sheets still smell like your ex-husband. The light musk of his skin and his soap is there. The thought of this bed being his is comfortable enough. Like you miss his warmth and touch, you curl up on the mattress, hugging yourself to the scent of him surrounding, and you can almost imagine that he’s holding you right now, like he used to. His detergent is faintly there too, well actually, it’s the same as yours. He asked when you two had split and he was settling into his own place all the household items you used. You supposed that it was all he knew.

You offered to go shop for household things with him and it was probably the last time you two had exchanged any kind of affection. You let him put his hand on your thigh as he drove you two to the supermarket. He let you link your arm with his, sides flush together like you two didn’t just get divorced. It was a silent message of “I miss you,” because it was and—quite frankly, still is—hard to get over someone you loved for so long. Even if he left the marriage long before you did, emotionally and physically. This was something you wanted while you married, for Satoru to present, and in your arms. For him to show you that he cared and loved you. You were even a little upset that was the only time he was doing all of that for you, but you chose not to ruin the moment for the both of you.

Funny how all these memories and things between the two of you are flooding in constantly. It makes you feel kind of sick. Nauseous and unable to breathe. You open your eyes in realization of what you’re doing right now. You sit up immediately, flustered and embarrassed as if Satoru would open the door right now and have that annoying smug grin on his face with his arms crossed, just to say as he leans on the door frame, “I knew you missed me.” Following with your name because he liked your name the best. He always said your name was pretty and he wouldn’t give you a pet name because nothing will ever be as great as calling you by your name. A nice little reminder that Satoru loved your name makes you smile a bit. Weird how all of these just keep piling up. One thought triggers another and it almost makes you itch and feel bad for the way things ended between the two of you. You almost have regrets about—

Whatever, you have a deadline to clean this place up you remind yourself. You spread your palms out on the sheets once more, feeling every thread that Satoru once laid his body on. You should take these for your bed, you think. They’re not so bad, just a plain white sheet, but it reminds you of Satoru’s hair and it would be waste.You lift yourself from the bed and open his closet, not even noticing how you keep having to make excuses for yourself to keep some of his things.

Already feeling overwhelmed because you keep holding back, opening the closet makes you feel like you’re cracking. You let out a suppressed sound. You can’t even register what it sounds like. A squeak or something? But looking at all his clothes almost makes everything so real for you. All his uniform? All his coats and sweaters? Ah, the one from high school. And then you can see all the ones you bought him. Damn, does that really test your strength.

Lined up neatly and nicely put away, it’s almost a shame to you to give these away. Your hand shakes as you hesitantly reach for one of his favorite button ups. Your skin meets the soft fabric and you only lightly touch it because you don’t want to wrinkle it. You remember when you used to iron Satoru’s clothes early in the morning before he woke up. Even until the end of your marriage, you still ironed them.

You look up, reaching for his work uniform. This is what he wore most often, you know that. So you let yourself crumble. Carefully taking off the hanger and sitting on his bed as you hold the shirt close to you. You bring it to your nose, just to smell it. You wish it smelled like Satoru more, but even so, it makes you break down.

Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as you take another sniff. The thought that Satoru really isn’t here anymore makes your heartbreak. It comes crashing down on you. You really miss him, and you regret that you didn’t spend as much time as you would have liked to with him. You wish you could have had the courage to tell him how much you still cared and loved him. Yes, it might not have been the same kind of love you had for him before, but you did still love him.

You let out a little sob. In frustration and despair, tears flow out as you hold his clothes close to you. The walls of your bruised heart collapses as you hold his clothes so tight as if he was still in them. Well, you really do wish he was. You’re desperate to feel him in your arms physically. Just a moment with him so you could say your last sentiments. Just a moment to see him again. Just a moment to love him.

You’re helpless as your tears flow endlessly onto his shirt. You feel silly, but you just can’t stop. You really miss Satoru, and you have been for so many months now. You stroke the shirt as you would his body, wallowing in the grief you’re supposed to feel, even if the dead man is your ex-husband. You spent so many years loving him, how could you just not feel anything to hear news of his death? How could you not feel any regret or remorse for how messy you left things with him? There’s so many things you want to say to him, and it kills you to know you will never get to say any of it to him.

You wonder if Satoru was still around, would he wrap his arms around you and tell you not to cry? Would he kiss your temple like he always did when you were down? You wish he would just do all of it. You wish you two could have tried harder. Your love for him never burned out, you know that much. It’s the reason why you’re here, alone in his room crying as you hold his clothes dearly to you. And even if you hate to say it, even if you don’t want to admit it, Satoru loved you until the very end too.

“I’m still in love with you y’know…”

“Shut up,” You mutter as you slide the eggs off the pan for the hungry man at the table.

It was the dead hours of the night when he returned from a mission, knocking on your door, telling you that he was hungry and needed a place to crash.You slammed the door on him of course, but he wedged his foot in the gap of the door (no, it didn’t hurt, he’s got magical powers that prevent him from actually getting hurt like damn maniac) and used his own strength against you to push his upper body through the door to beg you to let him stay. It was a mistake on your part, but it actually wasn’t all that terrible that night. You were just bitter.

“My bad,” Satoru said dramatically as he took a bite. “Just thought you missed me. That’s the reason you let me in, right?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, not in the mood for any of his games. His smug grin made everything even worse, because he was right. “Gojo Satoru, wipe that grin off your face.”

“Must have hit a nerve,” He teased like it was still appropriate to do so.

You actually don’t even remember what you said then after that, but you just know… Gojo Satoru has you all figured out yet… he never said anything about it to you. And that was just him. He knew well enough not to break your heart one more time, but he was selfish enough to constantly flirt with you any time he could. If he passed by, or was coming home late from a mission and knocking on your door to remind you that he existed. Not anymore.

After cleaning his apartment, it’s all empty now. Which is a little strange. You’ve never even been to his place until after he died, and yet… it makes your stomach turn and feel upset after realizing that this place is no longer where your ex-lover resides. You understand that he’s no longer occupying it. There’s no point in keeping it for him. But maybe because you don’t think it through while you’re still in the grieving process. You don’t think about Gojo Satoru being dead because you don’t want to. It makes your heart squeeze and your breath stop. You can’t face the fact that he no longer exists and you can no longer see him anymore. You just can’t, so you wonder: where will his home be? Who's going to take care of him? Where is he going to go to shelter himself from the rain or snow? Where is he going to sleep? Where can he feel safe and secure?

You sigh, rubbing your eyes. You really need to get some proper rest. You feel yourself withering in the bitter feelings you still have toward Satoru, but also the dangerous sorrow that’s sinking your whole body down. You can’t believe that you really miss Gojo Satoru after all this time hating him and wishing you two had never met when he was here and alive, waiting for you to just cave into what your heart wanted. Truth is though, you never would. You were too strong for that.

Finally, you pack up the final things, leaving absolutely nothing behind. Satoru isn’t here anymore, and it looks exactly like that. This little corner of the world isn’t his anymore, and you’d like to say that it never was because he didn’t spend much of his time in this place. It’s just sad to see it all gone, stripped to the bare white box it actually is without the fun of your late ex-husband. You shut the door, leaving this place behind and bringing this part of Satoru with you, maybe the only part of Satoru that is still worldly and able for you to have in your grasp. You leave the key to his apartment on the landlord’s desk and leave with the rest of Satoru’s things in your arms, all thrown in the cardboard box labeled “Satoru” in your handwriting with a permanent marker. Silly of you to not even realize it, Gojo Satoru’s home is not a place, it’s you.

The end of it was the funeral process. Which was much more work than cleaning his apartment. You wish somebody was worried about your well-being, but that somebody, the most likely candidate, was dead. Satoru would have told you to chill out a bit and ask you to wind down with him, but this is his funeral, he can’t really do that now, can he? But you don’t want to seem like you’re so reliant on him. You’ve done plenty of things without him, and this will be no exception. He just… sort of made the process easier and bearable. You’re on your 10th phone call with the carpenters of the coffin when you really wish you didn’t take on the task of carrying out Satoru’s dying wishes. He didn’t even have many, because he was so sure he wasn’t going to die so soon.

Through it all, you hold yourself together quite elegantly. Even through the eulogy. No one would even guess the mental strain you put yourself through to make this all happen. All the floral arrangements are beautiful, Satoru’s corpse is dressed nicely—though you grace him with a closed casket funeral because you were sure that he did not want anyone to see him so vulnerably lifeless and you simply could not handle the sight of his stale and unresponsive body. But everyone could indeed tell, Gojo Satoru was loved. They could understand your love for the man. You wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t love him. But you just deny it.

His guest list was quite large. Some people you didn't even know, and you were sure he did not want that. But the higher ups had their own agenda too, and you had to make compromises though you stood your ground quite well for the sake of your late ex-husband's well being in the afterlife. You wonder, would Satoru love you for eternity for loving and caring for him unconditionally and so thoroughly? When you eventually join him, will he thank you for so meticulously planning and giving him a proper send off? You hope so. You hope that he will continue to love you in the next lifetime, and in that lifetime, you two will be happily together. Not miserably apart like you are now.

Maybe the only time anyone can see you break is when the casket is lowered and this is the last time that you’ll ever see Satoru’s face again, except you don’t. His casket is closed and covered with all the flowers you bought to send him off beautifully. There’s a complex look on your face, and no one could quite read it, but it was clear that there was a storm going on inside of you, stirring and rumbling. Your eyebrows knitted together and your eyes glossy with a down turn of your lips. You’re just keeping yourself together for Satoru. You need to.

The only time you get to break down about it is when you get home from the long day. Crumbling down your door, as you miserably sob. How could the world be so possibly cruel that you had to bury the last man you loved for the past ten years? It never gave you time to move on. You weren’t ready to let go just yet and be content with the distance. Sure, you asked for it when he was still tangible, but now he was untouchable, not existing, and it felt so painful. You curl up in a ball, on the bed you used to share with him. The bed you two used to gossip on and the bed where you simply just held him to sleep on your good days. The bed that you laid alone for most nights wishing he’d come to hold you and not be too tired for you. All the bad and good memories come to make you think of one thing; you wish Satoru was here right now.

You lay there, contemplating if you just want to stay there for the whole week or get up and cook yourself something. You haven’t been eating with how hectic it’s been to take care of Satoru’s send off. You sigh, closing your eyes. Sleep sounds like the best thing to you at the moment. You were drained and exhausted from preserving the life of Gojo Satoru as well as commemorating it. You needed that rest.

When you drift into sleep, you kind of hope that Satoru is there for you, waiting in a field of beautiful flowers like he came to visit you in a dream. Even if it’s just your imagination. You’d like to think that he cared enough that he left you alone to deal with all of the things he left behind. He doesn’t though, because you don’t dream. You just black out and you wonder if you’ll ever dream again. But maybe you’re just being dramatic because you miss your ex-husband so much. You blink the tears out from your eyes, wiping them before getting up and pulling yourself together. You can be sad, but not miserable. You were never the type to just crumble, however, even this shook you down to the very ground and yes, it is hard to get back up. But everything with Satoru was hard, and this was no different. You should have been used to this.

Eventually, you do get yourself together. Sad, but you’re functioning. You go back to work and you continue with your daily life. Satoru’s never really been a part of your daily routine after the 3rd year of being married to him. It was no different not seeing him at all, but it was just the fact that he truly wasn't there anymore. If you were to call his cell, it would just ring on your dresser in your room and go to voicemail. Sometimes, you wait for the voicemail just to hear his voice, but most times you stay away from his contact. You’re recovering, just slowly.

People at work send their condolences, just like they did when they found out you divorced Gojo Satoru. They give you a pitiful look and tell you to be strong, but when they think you’re not listening they bash Satoru for passing and still putting the responsibility of carrying his will out on his ex wife—you. You don’t defend him nor does what they say settle well with you. They’re right, of course. Gojo Satoru has always been selfish, up until his last breath, but you just can’t seem to feel validated when you’re the one who buried Gojo Satoru. He was once your whole world, how could you just completely numb yourself to the pain of losing your connection with him, absolutely and completely?

Apparently, you’re the only person on his will too. You inherit everything of his one day, and it’s kind of overwhelming. All of his money is transferred to your bank account, all his belongings, everything is yours. You don’t even know what to do with most of it. You don’t even want to look and use anything of his. So you store most of his things in a box and label it “Satoru,” along with the other things that you took from his apartment, and you make an account to store all his money in, for what? You don’t know, just something.

When you're older, you’ll come to realize that you made Satoru a loved person until the very end, and that you were perhaps the only person that he still had love for, even if you weren’t his wife anymore. This is why Satoru loved you so much, and yes, he got very lucky with you, you will give yourself that. But you also won’t feel so bitter about having to be the person to handle his departure because you made sure to do just the way he wanted it, by you. for now, you’ll miss him lots and bring him flowers whenever the time comes. You won’t call him your ex-husband, but your late-husband. You keep some of his clothes to wear like you used to. You still sleep on your side of the bed, leaving the space Satoru used to fill empty for him. Life goes on the way it used to.

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sp1d3rzz · 1 day

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Can we talk about how much of a pervert Midoriya is???

Warning !! : Masturbation, degradation, and pussy eating. Lemme know if I missed anything ^^

Like think about it. Your average bullied 'weird' kid who honestly doesn't have a lot, (no friends, no quirk, and certainly no girlfriend) is just so dirty.

Uses his computer a LOT. You can't tell me he isn't sitting there jerking off to his oddly specific choice in hentai because he can't stop thinking about how girl's hand accidentally brushed against his while walking.

Poor thing probably doesn't even know the girl was definitely gossiping with her friends later about the accident.

"I mean, did you see the way his cheeks went bright red?" followed along with a few "yeah"'s and "that guy is so weird"'s.

Or maybe he does?? Maybe he imagines how much shit the girls talk about him so his orgasm comes even faster. Midoriya finds pleasure in someone who knows how to put him in his place.

His rough hand moving up and down his length, biting down extra hard on the hem of his favorite 'Plus Ultra!' shirt to keep him from making too much noise.

Groans and whines are heard from behind the door to his room as he trails a thumb over his slit, bringing the pre-cum around his tip to ease the tension. His head dips back and his eyes close.

He imagines the feeling of being stepped and shoved into the floor with the heel of his favorite hentai cosplayer. Insults and degrading words going through his ears and to the blood of which flows to his girthy cock.

"You're such a naughty boy, hm?", "Say it, say your mommy's naughty little boy.", "Want me to spit on you?...Yes?? Dirty bitch."

Saddest part is that he just can't help how he feels. Always becoming heated whenever a girl tells him how messy and improper his hair is.

Of course, she means it as a way to make him feel self-conscious about himself. But little does she know how he thinks about how it'd look even messier if she were to tug at his green strands while he ate her out like it was his last meal.

Mouth desperately sucking up the juices of her cunt as he moans and whimpers pathetically from just the pure taste of her warmth.

His nose swiping against her clit every time he adjusts himself to get a better angle. Arms wrapping around plush thighs to bring her closer to his face.

"Tastes— so good–" he'll buck his hips up into nothing just to cool his sensations. Eyes watch every move she makes, just to make sure he's doing this right. Just to make sure he's pleasing her.

And when she finally cums and scoots herself away from him, she see's her wetness and cum have coated his face messily. The sight might be sexy, but who wants to do anything more with a loser like him?

So when she gets up and leaves like nothing even happened (despite the fact she's practically shaking as cum leaks through her panties), he follows her to the door.

"B-bye!" he calls out, and isn't surprised when she slams her car door, starts the car, and drives away. Just a little hurt.

#destinedtowrite #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #mha midoriya #mha izuku #mha deku #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #bnha deku #izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #deku x reader #izuku midoria x reader #izuku smut #midoriya smut #deku smut #been thinking about this lately and need to get it off my chest

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ch-4-eri · 2 days

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Use Me — Jill Valentine.

jill X fem! reader.

warnings: smut, p in v, strap use, strap referred to as ‘cock’. verbal abuse, very mean jill (oops), overstimulation, spitting, crying, swearing (lots of it) let me know if i miss anything i wrote this at 6am sorry if there’s any mistakes (it is proofread ish).

word count: 2.6k

you tossed and turned in bed as the clock read 12am, typical.

jill’s light snoring is all you could hear as your thoughts wandered and wandered for probably an hour now, steaming glances at jill every now and then.

she came back from her job, ate something, had a little conversation with you, then she quickly went to bed, which you couldn’t even blame her for, jill worked for so long and she does this for the both of you, she deserves her rest.

but your ovulation week had other ideas.

you were an aching horny mess.

tossing and turning made it worse because any movement you’ve made involving your legs would drive you crazier, staying still wasn’t helping either, you were a cat in heat.

as your mind kept you awake, your eyes went to your sleeping girlfriend, jill’s arms hugged the pillow as she was breathing slowly and steadily, she looked so peaceful and here you were, an inappropriate film was going off in your head.

your fingers went to her arm, nudging her slightly. “jill?”

jill groaned in response, her brows furrowed. “jill…” you repeated, wishing she’d register it sooner.

she groaned once more, her eyes fluttering.

“jill… i’m.. horny.” you dropped it, like she wasn’t even half asleep.

“what the fuck..” she mumbled tiredly, her tone groggy but all it did was send your pussy pulsating, you felt so pathetic.

you nudged her arm again. “just wake up..”

“touch yourself in the bathroom or something!” she says, blowing you off with a dismissive hand.

“of course not.. it doesn’t feel as good as when you do it.”

“i’m sleeping.”

“you’re awake now.”

as soon as you said that, jill rose up from the bedsheets with a groan, she was fuming.

one thing about jill is that you knew she hated being woken up for no reason, especially when she needed the sleep so badly, she worked her ass off early in the day and she can’t rest from your whiny little voice and your hormones.

you knew you were testing her but it wasn’t on purpose, the ache inside of you hurt the whole day and you can’t ignore it anymore, even when jill rubbed the sleep out of her angry eyes, sipped some water off the bedside table bottle she keeps on her when she’s dehydrated from her deep slumber.

“i’m getting so fucking tired of you.” jill spat, closing the bottle aside and runs her thick fingers through her short brown hair, you frowned slightly at her words but you deserved it, lowkey, yet all of this was making you even more horny, the ache between your legs was unbearable.

“so fucking sick of you, i can’t fucking sleep in this goddamn house.” jill says again, standing up from the bed, still trying to get herself more awake to deal with you, you were a little happy about the fact that you got her to wake up but she was so moody, not that you deserved to complain about her mood, maybe she’d fuck you but she wouldn’t be nice about it.

she turned to face you as she tucked her hair behind her ears, her blue eyes sit on yours.

“take off your clothes… off. now.” she demands, her tone pissy and controlling.

“w-what?” was all you managed which somehow made jill even more angry, you could swore she would hit you or something, she never did, but she was too patient with you before, you wondered when she’d snap like that? it was sick of you to imagine jill hitting you for asking her for sex like that, jill would never lay a hand on you, not for the purpose of seriously hurting you, she always watches out with the way she deals with you, she knows you can’t handle her full strength.

“you seriously fucking woke me up just to ‘what’ me? take off your fucking clothes! you know what—“ she says her eyes wide open in anger, her face red as her veins popped out of her neck.

jill climed up the bed and grabbed your shorts, pulling them down your legs forcefully as you let out a yelp. “shut the fuck up! i’m so sick of you!” she argued, her fingers found your thin shirt and took that off as well.

you weren’t fighting it, but as much as it was turning you on, you wondered if she was truly this mad at you and it made you anxious, your heart dropped to your stomach at the idea, her tone and the way she handled you clothes, yet you were getting so wet anyway, your mind and cunt had two different opinions about this.

her fingers dragged down your panties, throwing them off the floor. pushing you down onto the mattress, opening your legs with a strong palm separating your knees, you could seriously salivate from this moment alone.

but before she did anything else, she unclasped your bra, she didn’t look impressed in the slightest, yes jill was used to your body, knew you every inch, every freckle, but now that she wasn’t even complimenting you, made your heart drop even more, horny and anxious all at once.

jill threw your bra on the floor with a force, grabbing your face in her palm.

“which part of i’m sleeping did you not understand?!” she shouts, her fingers ghosting your sticky area, it was pulsating, calling her name.

“jill…” you breathed, hoping she’d go easy on you, you were terrified but oh so excited your pussy was tightening around nothing. “are you really that much of a needy whore?” she spats, her eyes narrowed like she was truly shaming you for it, like she was a total prude and would throw rocks at you for behaving this way.

“every other day.. every other week you need me to fuck you, or else you wouldn’t fucking let me sleep!” she slams her fists onto the mattress, making you jump, your eyes watering at her behavior, but so was your dripping wet hole.

“you know what? i will fuck you..” jill heaved, grabbing your face into her fist. “i’ll fuck you so hard, so hard you won’t be able to walk, or even talk. fuck you dumb enough you’ll stop talking altogether and let me have my own fucking peace for once, that’s what pretty sluts like you deserve, should be grateful i even give you the light of day, you’re a brat, and i’m so sick of you taking and sucking the life out of me.” jill spoke, letting go of your face with a force as you shed a tear, her words hurt so bad but you needed her just as badly.

she got out of bed then, the sound of her feet as she went to look for her strap were too loud, putting all her energy in the stomping, you sat up a bit; rubbing your thighs together, wiping the tear off your cheek.

the sound of the drawers opening and closing was all you could hear echoing in the bedroom, jill wouldn’t look at you either, as she finally took out her strap, she walked closer to you in bed, she usually always slid a condom over it as you requested so, saying the feeling of it inside you was a bit uncomfortable, but now that you’re too wet for that she decided to just smear her spit over it.

jill spat on her palm, rubbing it across the rubbery tip so she can slide it in easier, yes she was mad at you, but she hated to think she’d wanna hurt you on purpose.

she climbed on the bed, strap perfectly wrapped around her hips, wet enough to slide inside of you as she parted your legs once again with her hands, positioning herself between your legs, brows furrowed, gaze averted.

you bit down your lip as you watched her get on top of you, her necklace dangling over your head, her tits peeking out of her loose gray tank top, no bra underneath.

she rubs the tip against your hole, teasingly so. “shh.” jill demands as soon as you started making noise.

“fuck you’re so tight..” jill cussed, sliding her cock in as you let out a gasp. “all this fucking and stretching you out didn’t loosen you up? damn girl.” she grunts, surprised at her change of tone, she was fully bottomed out as she started thrusting inside of you, your hands were shaking as they placed themselves on her hips, fucking yourself into her, the tip kissing your cervix with every thrust.

“is that good, slut?” jill says, forcing your chin between her fingers. “i’m not a slut.” you argued, your voice strained as you were fucked out. sweat already breaking out from your forehead.

“sure you’re not… look at you swallowing that cock whole… always begging me to fuck you, always demanding and whining for it.” she fucks into you deeper, making you see stars as it shut you up completely.

“good girl, i like it when you keep that pretty mouth shut.” jill continues thrusting, the sound of your squelching was like music to her ears. “you belong to me don’t you?” she whispered to herself, going faster just to see how you’d react, seeing the way you pulsate against her cock, the way you rock your hips to match her pace with your moans strained and your legs aching.

“hhhhnnn… jill i’m so close.” you managed, your finger nails digging into her waist from underneath her shirt, then your hands grabbed at her breasts, which drove jill crazy to just get you to cum, her pace went faster and faster, her girlfriend’s mouth open, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as you squeeze at her tits, your thumb circling her sensitive buds, making jill squirm inside of you as she forced your wrists away with her hands, pinning you down on the bed with one hand, the other taking each one of your ankles and throws it over her shoulders, making the strap go in so much deeper as you let out a choked gasp.

jill had to take a second and look at you like that, sweaty forehead, red cheeks, lips so red and pretty, the position was a little different from every other one you’ve both been in before by her.

but she took a mental note to do this again, legs on her shoulders, your eyes closed and your breathing uneven as she refuses to move inside of you. watching the way your breasts moved as you squirmed and whined underneath her, jill can’t resist you and she knows it, no matter how angry she became, how fucking stubborn she gets especially after a terrible day at work which is every other day, she has a beautiful girlfriend she can use however she pleases, you’re her pretty little thing, her whole world, she’d probably crumble if she came back home and didn’t find you there.

“look at me..” jill softly says, a drastic change from her tone earlier as your eyes fluttered open, staring into her blue ones.

“i love you.” jill whispers as she begins to move her hips forward and continues to thrust inside of you, the tip abusing your cervix as her words made this even more intense and overwhelming.

you eyes watered, recalling her words from just a few minutes ago, compared to this. you couldn’t focus as you got even more stretched out, crying out loud from how good it felt then from how much you feared like you were losing her and this was her last straw.

“shh..” jill whispered once more, her tongue flicking against her bottom lip as she let go of your hands, holding them in hers as she fucked into you so much faster than before, sending the bed rattling against the wall, creeking against the floor while your lips met in a hungry kiss, tongue and teeth clashed as you were chasing your high, sensation so overwhelming you whined into her mouth, jill’s hands grabbed yours as she led you through such an intense orgasm, you were terrified.

you screamed, moaned, writhed, unsure of the noise that came out of you when you gushed all that you have against jill’s cock.

jill noticed.. and she slowly pulled out, mumbling sweet words and kissing your forehead, cheeks, lips, she overstepped a line and she was willing to make it up to you.

“shh.. you did so good, such a good girl.” she mumbled, rubbing her thumb against your cheek as you were trying to get a hold of yourself.

“it’s alright sweetheart… you did good.” she whispers into your ear. “i’ll be back.. okay?” was all jill said as she climbed off the bed, taking off the strap that needed cleaning now, not that you’d notice from how much you were vibrating and overwhelmed.

jill came back a few moments later, a cloth to clean you up and some water to hydrate you.

she carefully sat next to you and helped you sit up with a kiss to your forehead. “i’ve got you.” she mumbled, grabbing the cloth in her rough hand, slowly holding it up your thighs as you were too sensitive, you closed your legs in on her.

“can’t..” you shook your head, keeping your knees together. “i have to clean you up baby..” jill murmured, taking a hold of your thigh once again, cleaning up the cum off it. wiping it all the way up to your sensitive core as you squirmed. “jill.. careful.”

“i’ve got you..” jill repeated, cleaning you gently, watching the way you were limb on the bed, you were breathtaking.

as soon as she finishes cleaning you up and putting you into new panties and clothes, giving you some water as you drank the whole bottle. “easy… it’s not going anywhere.” jill mumbled, climbing on the bed next to you, recalling how mean and disrespectful she was to you early on, making her heart twist into her chest.

she took you in her arms, your smaller frame fit so perfectly into her, you wrapped your arms around her as she kissed your forehead.

“i’m sorry… i didn’t mean what i said.” jill finally said, she can’t let you go on thinking this is how she thought of your relationship, she loves you so much.

“there’s no excuse for me to talk to you like that, not when you needed me. i’m sorry baby..” jill added while wrapping her arms around you tighter, securing you into her grip gently.

“it’s okay..” you sighed, she noticed how non verbal you get after such a loud and messy orgasm, she’s glad it’s not because you were mad at her or resentful of what she said. “it’s not.. i don’t want you to be mad at me though, i can’t take it.” jill whispered into your hair, brushing a hand over your belly.

“i’m not mad.” you finally said after a moment of silence. “no?” “no.”

jill sighed in relief and kissed the tip of your nose, making your eyes close as she pulled the blanket over both of you, hoping you’d get a good night's sleep. she still needed to do so much to make it up to you, you’re her angel.

you snuggled up to her, eyes closed and heavy with sleep. jill brushing your hair with her fingers, her face so close to yours as she watched every flutter of your lashes, every time you opened your mouth and closed it. she leaned in and kissed your lips, unable to get enough of you as you kissed her back, barely, you were probably half asleep.

“i’m not mad.” you reassured her softly, which was enough to make jill go through the night without some exaggerated grand gesture, both of you falling asleep in each other’s arms.

#jill valentine #jill valentine smut #jill valentine x female reader #jill valentine x you #jill valentine x reader #resident evil smut

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wasabi-gumdrop · 19 hours

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thinking about modern au Kabru

ivy league college student, probably studying law and political science on a full scholarship. first time living away from Milsiril so he has to promise her, yes mom i’ll call you at least four times a week, no mom i don’t need your amex black card, yes mom the normal credit card is fine i need to learn how to budget like a Normal Person (it has a limit of $20k — that’s not normal Kabru).

Milsiril insists for a long time that she’ll just get him a house off campus so he can have his own space (aka a place she can drop by anytime and possibly live a few months out of the year just to be close to him) but Kabru puts his foot down and tells her the best way he’s gonna make friends is by living with other students (bye mom).

his floor in the coed dorms is the party floor and he always makes sure to invite everybody (his nightmare is accidentally leaving anyone out and having them think that he doesn’t like them). somehow it’s always a good time, everyone leaves with more friends than they came with, it never gets totally out of control, and plenty of girls who are interested in him (and a lot of guys too tbh) bring tons of baked treats so there’s always free food. Kabru is the RA’s favourite person to have in the building (even though Kabru himself is messy but most of the people he’s friends with are nice and clean up after themselves).

he has a porsche (Milsiril gift for his 16th bday) but he’s adamant about not driving it unless he absolutely has to (because he doesn’t wanna look like a douche). BUT he never says no when his friends ask for rides (so he ends up driving all the time anyway). he actually contemplates selling the porsche and going for a more practical car but Mickbell is like ‘dude you are not taking this away from me.’ Kabru sighs and decides to keep it because his friends (Mickbell) like being chauffeured around in a fancy convertible (Rin, Holm, and Dia don’t care, they’re just glad they don’t have to walk to the grocery store).

he’s probably on a casual texting basis with most of his professors and you know he’s going to all their office hours, grabbing beer with them just to keep chatting about life outside of school. and that’s how he winds up in some super secret faculty group chat where he’s now privy to all the college administration gossip.

Kabru is elected for student council during his freshman year and he’s probably the favourite to be sc president one day.

he doesn’t really date (gets too in his head about how he doesn’t wanna ruin any friendships) but he does hang out one on one with a lot of girls and treats them all really well. he probably goes so far out of his way to be platonic that he flies a little too close to the ‘Just Like One of the Girlies’ sun, he kinda forgets that most people interpret it as flirting coming from him. which leads to a few awkward conversations. people feeling led on, a few angry jealous boyfriends, scathing dms about him being a girl stealing homewrecker.

it’s such a nightmare for him and he needs it to end right now. so he begs Rin to ‘date’ him for a week or two and then publicly dump him just so the entire student body gets the message that he is Just A Friend.

Rin stares at him for a few seconds. then she laughs. she laughs and laughs. she laughs for a crazy long time. and then eventually she goes, ‘wow you’re an asshole, Kabru. no i won’t be your fake girlfriend. you’re gonna suffer and i’m going to enjoy it.’

and that’s when Kabru has a moment of enlightenment. ok yeah. asking for that is probably really selfish and mean. maybe he needs to think about girls’ feelings more and that’s maybe more important than his deep seated need to be liked, and when has Rin ever been wrong about anything.

he apologizes. and so begins one of the more serious talks he’s ever had with Rin about being okay with not being liked.

he thinks he can really turn over a new leaf. the whole ‘not worrying about what other people think’ thing goes pretty well — up until Kabru meets the aloof professor for his Monsters and Myths class who keeps forgetting and mispronouncing his name.

Kabru has never needed someone to like him So Bad, he needs Prof. Touden to like him as a matter of life and death, and he’s willing to look stupid for it (fails a midterm on purpose to justify begging for one on one tutoring)

#wow if you made it to the end of this post here’s some surprise labru #kabru says fuck my gpa i need this white boy to like me #i am plagued by demons (labru professor/student situationship)#dungeon meshi modern au #ok but the Kabru Milsiril dynamic is my new favourite chew toy #especially them in a modern setting #all of the lavish gifts and expensive lifestyle that Milsiril would want Kabru to have #perhaps even as a way of depending on her forever (love to an unhealthy degree)#but Kabru is more interested in people than material things #so perhaps he’s a little out of touch financially (thinks a jug of milk costs $12)#but he’s still very much socially aware #enough to know that he can’t just be another annoying trust fund kid with a dumb car and designer clothes and zero fucks about academics #so his social and academic excellence is probably in large part overcompensation for his privileged upbringing #and even the thought of someone not liking him gives him stomach cramps LOL #kabru my love you will always be famous #kabru of utaya #kabru #wasabi rambles #labru #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon

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livrere-green · 2 days

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ATLA x Omegaverse AU

Part 1 | Part 2

I've been thinking about an omegaverse atla au a lot recently, so I'm gonna vent about it cuz it's getting tiring just to have it spiralling in my head ngl

So, the only thing that I need to mention now it's that the standard age at which someone presents is around 13 to 14 years old. Knowing that, lets talk about the main characters.

Aang (12) would be unpresented by the time of the show. Also, I don't believe that being the avatar makes him an alpha perse. I mean, there's a possibility he presents as one (but he could also be a beta), and it wouldn't have anything to do with his avatar status (historically there could be a higher rate of avatars being alphas/betas, but there are some important exceptions... iykwim). Well, I think he'd present at age 13 almost 14.

Katara (14) is one of the characters that confuses me the most in this aspect, but just to add fuel to her fury and her personality, I'll make her an omega, not the kind that rejects her nature but the kind that embraces it and doesn't see it as something that makes her inferior or helpless. Katara would fight against the life society wants to impose on her in the same way she does in canon, maybe even more. She would resent the people who doesn't respect her because of her gender (just make it double), and at some point, she'd get frustrated about it, but she would think that hating herself would mean letting them win. About her presentation, there's two option: 1. She presented some months before they found Aang, 2. She presented during the first months they were traveling to the NWT (in this case, I think the ideal place would've been Kyoshi Island, because there's people able to take care of her there).

Sokka (15) would be an alpha, he probably presented after Hakoda left (14), he fits the type and the stereotypical personality at the beginning of the show. But I think he would get over it sooner rather than later and he would learnt to respect and don't underestimate betas and omegas just based on their nature. Also, I think that Sokka would scent the Gaang to protect them and particularly to cover Katara's scent as they travel or run away from trouble.

Toph (12) would be unpresented by the time of the show. She'd present as an alpha some time after the end of the war (13). There's not a lot to explain here (talking about her at that age, except for the fact that even during her time with the Gaang, she probably hated Sokka's essence, just as an early hint about her gender). I consider that there's a lot to discuss about her as an adult and how she managed her relationships, but that's a discussion for another time.

Zuko (16) would be an omega, and also a late bloomer, probably presented a couple of years after his banishment (15).. Zuko would be determined to hide his true nature under any circumstances, letting only his Uncle know about it. Ozai would've been informed that his son is a beta, which was already a disappointment for the Royal Family (historically alphas), but it wasn't nearly as negative as being reduced to be treated as an omega. Zuko would end up causing himself a lot of damage in order to disguise as a beta, either by using too many suppressants or other medications, or even hurting himself physically and mentally. He would stop hiding he's an omega after joining the Gaang but It'll be complicated, since he'd be distressed all the time and even Aang and Toph would be able to notice (their senses are not totally develop, so it'll be kinda alarming).

Suki (15) would be a beta, presented at 14. In her case, the characteristics of its gender would be especially helpful to mediate conflict or get out of it. The scent of a beta has calming effects in both alphas and omegas, so she would use it with her friends, or even in battle, to make her opponents lose focus, particularly if their driven by rage. The fans are particularly helpful for that.

Azula (14) would present early as an alpha (12/13). At that age, one of the traits she would manifest the most is assuming the position of head of the pact with her friends, she'd probably scent them with the intention of establishing superiority and control over them. In this context, Mai would be a beta and Ty Lee an omega or a beta as well.

That's all for now, I still have some things in mind for this, but I'll share that later, and if you have questions, I'll be happy to answer!

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cinnamontoastcrunch-15 · 3 days

Text

We Must Know, How Did it End?

“It was tricky, really. Writing songs that come from a place of pain isn’t usually my thing,” Sirius says, plastering a polite smile onto his face. “It’s difficult to describe a feeling that’s so… overwhelming.”

Peter smiles back, and Sirius can see the empathy etched across his face.

“Okay, I think we have time for some audience questions,” Pete says, turning to the audience. Sirius follows his gaze to a crew member handing a mic over to a young woman.

“Hi, uh, hi. I was just wondering if your album is based on your recent breakup? With Remus?”

His name alone makes the blood freeze in Sirius’ veins. The fan isn’t wrong, his album is essentially all about Remus. It doesn’t stop his heart from stuttering at the mention of Remus. It brings memories that he’s been trying to write out of his system back to the front of his mind. They bring a lump into his throat, and he has to blink harshly to fight back any semblance of a visceral reaction.

Thankfully, Peter steps in.

“You know what? Let’s move on. Anyone else?”

In spite of a few grumblings, the microphone travels further, landing with another fan.

“Hey. I was just wondering if you ever think that Remus dated you for the fame? I mean, his follower count has doubled since you two-”

“No, I don’t think that,” Sirius cuts in sharply. Apparently, his need to defend Remus is stronger than his hurt at their breakup. Peter is opening his mouth to speak, probably to move on again, but Sirius isn’t ready to move on. “Of course I don’t think that. Remus’ talent speaks for itself. He doesn’t need me to be his way to break out in the dance world. We might not be together anymore, but that doesn’t change the fact that he is still one of the most genuine people I have ever met. Honestly, his kindness is indescribable. Everything I said while we were together was true. That relationship was the realest thing I’ve ever had, okay? Us breaking up doesn’t diminish that.”

The whole studio has lapsed into silence, and Sirius is really regretting the way he went about that now. Even Peter’s watching him in shock. Eventually, he seems to remember his own job, clearing his throat and breaking out into a smile.

“Okay! It’s about time for us to move on…”

Sirius is pretty sure that he’s been in a trance for the past hour. He doesn’t even remember the trip back to his house. All he knows is that he’s been scrolling through his tagged posts as his manager, Benjy, shouts at him over the phone.

“This is, without a doubt, the most irresponsible thing you’ve ever done!”

“I didn’t think it was that bad,” Sirius grumbles under his breath. Unfortunately, Benjy has the ears of a fucking hawk.

“If you weren’t a public figure, and I wasn’t your fucking PR Manager, I would think it was sweet, Sirius! However, calling your relationship with Remus the realest thing you’ve ever had?! That gives tabloids every opportunity under the sun to call you obsessive!”

“Yeah, well, it needed to be said,” Sirius says decisively. He’s not wrong. In what world could anyone ever see Remus as anything less than kind? Yeah, they haven’t seen the way Remus would hold Sirius through his panic attacks, say the dumbest things just to watch him smile, or the dance. The one Remus dedicated to him. The one Sirius really should delete from his camera roll.

“God, Sirius, you’re so lucky that I actually like you.” Benjy interrupts his train of thought, thankfully, letting out a groan as Sirius refreshes Instagram for the fifteenth time. “However, now you need to lay low until people forget that this happened.”

“What? That I defended him? Just because he’s my ex doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to say anything nice about him!”

“Yes it does. You can’t say anything too bad, or anything too nice. You have to be neutral. Peter was about to gloss past the question, anyway!” Sirius rolls his eyes, grateful that Benjy can’t see him as he goes scrolling again. He’s being called obsessive in countless different ways by news outlets, people who hate him, and people who have decided that his and Remus’ breakup means that it’s time to take sides. As he looks through them, he’s barely even pausing.

Until he reaches a post with Remus’ face at the front of it.

As much as he knows that he shouldn’t, he wants to watch it. He’s spent a lot of time watching the videos he promised James that he’d deleted and crying, but those were videos Sirius had filmed himself. They were personal. He hasn’t interacted with anything that Remus has posted publicly. He doesn’t actually want to be a stalker.

This feels… different. Mostly because this one has his name on it.

‘REMUS LUPIN BREAKS SILENCE ABOUT EX BOYFRIEND SIRIUS BLACK:’

“Yeah, okay, Benjy, I’ll stay silent,” Sirius says quickly, zoning out.

“Oh, really? Thanks. That was easy-”

“Okay, bye.” He hangs up before Benjy can say anything else, immediately playing the video.

It’s from one of Remus’ livestreams. His face is flushed a slight red, like it usually is after rehearsal, sitting on the floor in his studio. Sirius hates how endearing he finds it. He’s just talking, comments rolling in and the radio playing, when Sirius catches the message. It’s just another one calling him a stalker, but it stops Remus in his tracks.

“Right, you all need to leave Sirius alone,” Remus says decisively. The way his name sits in Sirius’ mouth brings a lump into his throat all over again. He really needs to stop crying over Remus, it’s getting a little sad. Maybe he is obsessive. “He isn’t stalking me. I actually haven’t spoken to him at all. Listen, the- the breakup was amicable, okay? We don’t hate each other, and we really don’t need people taking sides. All he did was defend me, which he didn’t have to do. It was nice of him, yeah, but it doesn’t make him obsessive. He’s just being a good person, he can’t help that.” Sirius smiles to himself, face warming at the compliment.

Okay, he is obsessed.

Still, it’s so unbelievably Remus to be so willing to defend him. To immediately assume the best about Sirius.

Just when Sirius expects the clip to end, a different song starts playing. He recognises it straight away. It’s one from his new album.

‘ I told the moon about you… ’

Remus’ eyes widen at the words. At Sirius ’ words. He never has been any good at hiding the first thought that flits across his face.

“Sorry, I’m, er… I’ve got to go. Thanks for- for watching, yeah,” Remus says hurriedly.

That’s when the clip ends.

For what feels like the thousandth time, Sirius wants to be in the same room as Remus, to have the privilege of finding out exactly what is going on in his head. He wants to press his thumb against the furrow in Remus’ brow and watch his face relax. Christ, he just wants to touch him, really. His forehead, his hand, his shoulders, his waist, anywhere . With a groan, he drops his head into his hands. He’s actually pathetic. James is the only one who’s allowed to hear about this, and Sirius is pretty sure he needs a stern talking to from him right about now.

There’s a knock at his front door, which Sirius assumes is James. It’s like the man can read his mind. The knocking is a little… frantic, but James is bouncy, it’s not exactly out of the ordinary.

He walks slowly over to the door, reaching out and pulling it open.

The moment he catches a glimpse of the familiar amber eyes, every muscle in Sirius’ body freezes.

Remus.

He hasn’t seen him in three months. Not since he left Sirius’ house, got on a plane, and didn’t come back. Sirius has spent a countless number of minutes trying to recall every single detail about Remus, looking at photos of the two of them, wishing that he had spent more time etching every line, every freckle, into his brain. He thought he had, really, but he was right in his interview. Remus is indescribable.

For a moment, they just look at each other, Remus’ mouth slightly ajar as though he hadn’t expected Sirius to open the door. He almost seems like he doesn’t know how he got there.

Well, until Sirius speaks.

“M- Remus? What- what are you…?” He trails off, watching the way Remus’ features set to something much more sure.

“Sirius, I love you,” he says suddenly. They’re words Sirius never expected to hear coming from Remus again. “I’m still in love with you, and I’m tired of pretending that I haven’t regretted every single step that I’ve taken since I left here. I- God, Sirius, I think we made a mistake. I- I know what we said, what we agreed on. It was too difficult with our schedules, we were both being too distant, fighting over little things,” he lists everything like it’s pointless, as Sirius tries to get his brain to fucking wake up and work. “And I get it, Sirius. I really do get it, I understand, but I’d take thousands of fights over- over dishes, or hogging blankets, instead of having to do these months all over again. This is going to sound really sad, and really bloody pathetic, but I’ve watched the videos of you writing songs in my flat more time than I can fucking count since we broke up! You told the moon about me? I know that line. I’d know it anywhere. It’s the one right before I turned the camera off and kissed you. It just made me- I don’t know, I didn’t think hearing it like that would hurt so much.” He seems to be hit with a completely different emotion, some sense of regret, and it’s probably Sirius’ fault, since he doesn’t seem to be able to get his voice to work. He can sing night after night, go on countless talk shows, but apparently this is what it takes to render Sirius speechless. “I know I’m probably overstepping a boundary, and this is really fucking stupid of me, but I- I want to try again.”

Yeah, the words really aren’t going to come out. He’s going to have to find some other way to tell Remus exactly how he feels.

“If I didn’t say something I just know that I’d regret it for the rest of my life. So tell me to leave and I will. I’ll turn around and- and I’ll move country. You’ll never have to see me again-”

He can’t say anything else, because Sirius is kissing him.

He isn’t even sure when he made the decision to do it. It’s almost like a reflex, the first thing to come naturally to him.

There’s not a second of regret that comes with it, though.

Before he can even figure out where he got the idea to do that, Remus’ arms are around Sirius’ waist, pulling him closer and holding him secure, warm, safe . His lips are soft, so familiar that Sirius wants to cry.

Actually, he is crying.

Tears start rolling down his face as he pulls away to look at Remus. Thankfully, Remus is crying himself, and somehow also grinning like an idiot, which Sirius can genuinely say is the most beautiful sight he has ever had the privilege to behold.

“Oh, my god, I love you, Remus. Moony, I love you so much,” he says quickly, hands reaching to cup Remus’ face.

“So- you- do you want-?”

“To start again? Pick up from where we left off? Anything, darling. Anything. I’ll take whatever you can give me, if it means I don’t have to try to move on. You’re not someone I can get over. I’ve tried, and I’m convinced that it’s fucking impossible,” Sirius says, making Remus laugh breathlessly and drag him back into a kiss. Not that Sirius is complaining. He would let Remus drag him anywhere. Remus is his everything. His world.

Oh, my darling, how could I ever have let you go?

#it's been a WHILE since i've written a oneshot #and I'm also not sure what this is #but I lowkey love it #they're so silly #wolfstar #sirius black #wolfstar oneshot #marauders #remus lupin #remus x sirius #young marauders #moony x padfoot #atyd marauders #marauders oneshot

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annwrites · 2 days

Text

exactly what he needs, pt. 2 ♡ ⋆｡˚ | pt 1 | pt3

— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader

— type: ficlet (multi-chapter)

— summary: you & nate hang out in your room (after he snoops through it right in front of you), then ask each other questions, & he dresses & does your hair before you head out to spend the evening together.

— tags: conversing, getting to know one another

— tw: sexualization, lying (nate manipulating the truth), dollification

— word count: 6.2k

— a/n: I edited this numerous times, but fucked myself over by writing part 1 in present-tense to begin with, which I'm not always great at. So, if I messed up the tenses anywhere, please ignore it. Going forward, I'll probably be publishing further installments in past-tense.

Next post will be reader & Nate going shopping & having dinner!

The next morning when you wake, it only takes a few minutes for you to remember that Nate will be there in a little less than an hour, and the nerves immediately set in.

Surely people will see you getting out of his truck. What will they think?

You shake your head. It doesn't matter. Not really, anyway. You don't much care what any one person of the student population thinks of you.

You know high school is just a blip—a very brief moment in time, where it seems like every little thing you experience can be the end of the world, but it's really all just the beginning.

People will think whatever they like. It's not your job to try and change their minds. Not that trying to do as much would work anyway.

Once you've quickly showered, dressed, pulled your hair into a high ponytail to keep it out of your way, and eaten breakfast, you don't even have time to wait by the door as Nate's truck pulls up. You quickly pull on a pair of boots and step outside, locking the door behind you.

When you look up, your stomach does a flip when you see Nate holding the passenger-side door open for you.

You walk over to him. "You don't have to get my door for me, you know."

He shrugs, taking your backpack from you, setting it in the backseat with his. "I want to."

You tell him thank you as you climb inside and he shuts the door behind you.

Once you're on the road, he's the first to break the silence. "You can listen to whatever you want on the radio."

In truth, it's a bit too early for music for you. "I'm ok."

"Did you eat already?"

You nod. "I had a bowl of cereal."

He gives a slight frown. Not a very healthy start to your day. Something full of sugar.

"Do you want me to pick you up something on the way?"

Your eyes go wide. "Oh, no, I'm fine. Thank you, though. It's nice of you to offer."

He decides tomorrow he's bringing you breakfast, and he won't be asking for permission beforehand.

You're both silent again for a moment and the truck slows as he pulls up to a red light. He briefly wonders if you know how to drive. If not, he'd be a more than willing teacher.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you something personal. If you do, just tell me to fuck off and you don't have to answer."

You look at him. "Ok..."

The light turns green and the truck picks up speed again. "I noticed neither of your parents were home yesterday. Were they both at work?"

You grow quiet for a moment, a pregnant pause settling between the two of you as you look out the window at the passing houses.

"My dad was...is. He travels a lot for work, so he's not home much."

He nods, deeming it good news, at least for him. "And your mom?"

You're quiet for even longer this time. Then, "I've never met her."

Minus Lexi, you've already divulged more to him in that short sentence than you have to anyone else at East Highland.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He's not sure that he means it. He despises both of his parents and, if anything, in this moment, is envious of you, due to your lack of relationship with both of yours.

You shrug. "It's fine."

He wants more than just 'it's fine'. He wants to know more, as it's clear it's something which bothers you. He wants you to give him emotional vulnerability for just a moment. Something he can use in the future to work his way in closer to you.

"Do you know anything about her?"

You shake your head. "My dad refuses to talk about her. After a few fights when I was younger where I tried to get him to, I gave up. It's probably for the best. She made her choice, and I think me knowing anything about her would just make things...more difficult. My life, I mean."

Even if you still felt like you were chasing shadows sometimes.

He nods. If nothing else, it's one less person he'll have to go through to be with you. Two less, from the sound of things.

Finally, he turns into the school parking lot, taking his usual spot and he shuts the truck off.

"I'll get your door for you," he states before getting out.

You unbuckle yourself, not sure what to think of his insistence with the whole door thing. It just doesn't seem to be something men much concern themselves with anymore—getting a girl's door for her—at least not teenage boys, that is. But perhaps he's different. Maybe it's just the way he was raised.

Nate opens your door and grabs his backpack, sliding it over his shoulders, then grabbing yours as well.

You get out and go to take it from him, but he continues holding it.

"Turn around."

Your brows furrow for a moment, but do as he's asked. You quickly realize what he's doing and adjust your arms as he slides your bag onto your back. He's really going the extra mile to be a gentleman, you think.

Once the truck's doors are closed and he's locked the vehicle, he places his hand against the small of your back as you walk into school together.

You look perfectly calm on the outside, but on the inside, your anxiety levels are rising with each pair of eyes turning your and Nate's way.

When you spot Lexi, the look on her face is nothing short of bewildered. Next to her sits Cassie, who's fuming.

You're torn away from looking in their direction by Nate coming to stand in front of you. "See you in third period."

You nod and give him a small smile, going to sit with Lexi, despite Cassie giving you that same glare from yesterday. A worse one, really.

"What the hell was that?" Lexi asks, her tone full of concern as you sit down beside her, setting your bag on the table.

"Nothing. He just drove me to school, that's all."

"And home," Cassie says, voice full of malice.

Lexi looks from her sister, then back to you. "The two of you are not hooking up."

You flush. "No. He just gave me a ride, that's all."

"Ok, but why would he do that? The two of you never talk. You're not even friends."

You do your best to ignore Cassie's unsettling stare.

"I'm just—" You immediately shut your mouth. You should've thought further ahead, should've thought about what excuse you would give people when they inevitably ask why the two of you are hanging out all of a sudden.

Nate asked you to keep it a secret and you aren't about to betray his confidence. If you do, you're sure he'll fail and never bother asking for help again.

"Just what?" Lexi prods.

"We're just hanging out. It's not a big deal. I promise."

Suddenly, Cassie stands, angrily grabbing her bag, jerking it off the table and storming away.

Lexi rolls her eyes. "Just ignore her. I don't know why she's still hung up on him, anyway. He treated her like crap." She shifts in her seat, facing fully toward you now. "What I can believe even less, however, is the fact you're giving him the time of day. He's an asshole. He was abusive toward Maddy and wanted to keep screwing Cassie so long as she kept it a secret. He uses people, Y/N."

Abusive? You knew he and Maddy had argued quite a bit, but nothing that severe.

"What do you mean by abusive?"

She shrugs. "I don't know much, since she and Cassie obviously aren't friends anymore. But I know a good portion of it, at least, was emotional. Maybe verbal, too. Then again, I don't think she was any better." Lexi glances behind you, and you don't dare turn around, now worried the subject of your conversation is who she's looking at. "She gives as good as she gets."

Once the school day is over and you go to drop off your books at your locker, you find Nate leaning up against it.

He smiles when he sees you and you give him a shy smile in return.

You put your things away, then look to Nate.

In truth, what Lexi told you had gotten to you a bit. You try to tell yourself that it's all nothing more than hearsay, and you're only tutoring—not dating him—so whatever had occurred between he and Maddy and Cassie is none of your concern.

"You ready?"

You nod, and, just like this morning, he places his hand firmly against your back.

Once you're in his truck, you notice Maddy staring at you today, just a few cars away. She and Kat are both looking in your direction, Maddy clearly getting worked up and Kat obviously trying to calm her down, and your eyes widen when she begins heading in Nate's direction.

Before she can reach him, however, he gets in the truck and pulls out of the lot, leaving her standing there, staring after the two of you.

You're glad whatever was about to happen has just been avoided.

Over the next week, you and Nate go to your house every day after school to study. You gradually get to know more about one another, like you learning he has a brother—which you'd somehow managed to forget over the years—and he tells you how passionate he is about personal fitness, something to which you don't much relate.

It'd been abundantly clear since day one that he dislikes his father. But that dislike—even if he talks about him very little—clearly, somewhere along the way, became loathing. It's all in the tone he uses, the language he uses when he's brought up.

But the thing that always seems to calm him—make him happier—is talking about you.

He asks you every question in the book: favorite food, color, flower, song, type of music, art, what you want to be when you graduate, the kind of house you want to live in. The list is endless.

And then the day came when he asked to see your room, with you standing awkwardly in the doorway as he surveys every inch.

He starts with your bed, your fluffy white comforter with small pink flowers printed across it, and your plethora of pillows. And then he notices the small brown teddy bear leaned back against said pillows. He briefly picks it up, smirking to himself, then looking at you.

“Do you sleep with this?”

Your face goes blood-red. “Y-yes.”

He studies it for a moment longer, making a mental note to one day buy you one himself, wanting you to sleep with one that’s come from him instead.

In truth, while you think about you sleeping with a stuffed animal as embarrassing—at least for another person to now know about—it’s a major fucking turn-on for him. You’re that innocent that you still sleep with a teddy.

He sets it back down, throwing a “that’s very sweet” your way before moving on to your bookshelves.

Not that he’s read or heard of the grand majority of the novels you have, he can tell by the titles and covers alone that they’re all either romance or fantasy. He supposes he understands that: you trying to escape through stories. Stories where you can go somewhere else, be someone else. Have a new family, new friends.

And then he thinks it incredibly sad—just how lonely you are.

It’s not like he isn’t already aware of it, because he is—has became more and more so as the last week has gone on. Everyday he’s come to your house it’s been empty. But to see your shelves crammed full of books—your one attempt at escaping into a better life—he vows in that moment to start working faster at bringing the two of you together into a relationship.

You need him.

You like stories about princesses trapped in towers and white knights coming to save them? Then that’s exactly what he’ll be for you. He’ll rescue you from the lonely hell you’re living in and give himself to you fully. He’ll dedicate all of his time that he can to you. And he plans to spoil you fucking rotten.

He looks over the various trinkets you have set on—and on top of—those shame shelves. Porcelain figurines of unicorns and cats, a small jeweled crown, some candles and a few faux plants.

He turns back to you. “Which one is your favorite?”

You shift nervously from one foot to the other. “The Lord of the Rings, actually. I…I really like Éowyn and Faramir’s story.”

He nods.

He’s never watched the movies, and has obviously never read the book, so he makes a mental note to at least do some reading on the characters you’ve mentioned to understand you better.

He then looks over your entertainment center and the small collection of DVDs you have alphabetically organized in one of the cubbies. Beauty and the Beast, Ever After, Stardust, The Last Unicorn, The Princess Bride, among a few others.

He then steps over to your closet and pulls the doors open without even asking your permission first.

You don’t much react to him doing so, supposing that everything in there you’ve worn to school at some point anyway.

He’s met with skirts and sweaters and dress blouses. Another thing he’s going to have to change—your wardrobe. It isn’t exactly “frumpy”, but it isn’t feminine enough for his taste, either. He wants your clothes to reflect who you truly are. Sun and baby doll dresses, and tennis skirts with the right pretty tops will suit you far better. Sandals and delicate flats. Your hair curled and actually down for once, perhaps with a bow in it. And he’ll buy you a few nice pieces of expensive jewelry as well. Maybe take you on a shopping trip to Tiffany one day.

He closes the doors in front of him.

What he really wants is to go through not just your bedside table, but also the top drawers of your dresser. He's curious if you've ventured into the territory of lingerie and sex-toys yet. And if so, what your preferences are.

He doesn't like to imagine you using more than a vibrator on your clit to get yourself to orgasm. As for lingerie, he doubts that you own any, but he often pictures you in lacy panties and pastel teddy nightgowns.

He adds such things to his mental shopping list of things to one day buy you.

Speaking of orgasms, however, he'd come thinking of you nearly every night for the past week.

He imagined you on his bed, naked, your pussy soaked for him, your legs spread wide as he teased you until you were begging for him to put himself inside of you.

He imagined all the things he'd teach you in bed, sure that you're inexperienced.

And only after you promised him that you're his—belonged to him and wanted no one and nothing else but him—did he finally join your two bodies together.

Finally, he sits on the edge of your bed. He then glances to the chair which hangs from the ceiling in the back left corner of your room, directly facing where he now sits.

You walk over, sitting in it.

He then lays back on your bed, feet still planted firmly on the floor, arms folded behind his head—God, he’s so tall.

“Do you not get lonely here?” He asks, turning his head to look at you.

You lift one of your socked-feet onto the chair, wrapping your arms around your bent knee. You shrug.

He shakes his head. “Don’t do that.”

Your brows furrow. “Do what?”

“Act like you being left alone all the time doesn’t matter. It matters; you matter.”

You remain quiet. Then, “I’m used to it. I like being alone.”

He refuses to believe that, knows it’s bullshit.

You’d only spent a week together, and only a little over an hour every day at that, but it’d not taken but a couple of days for you to—at times—talk his ear off. At one point, it’d nearly gotten on his last nerve, until his stomach dropped and heart broke when he realized why: how fucking long had it been since you’d had someone—anyone—to really talk to? Someone who bothered to truly listen? How long had you stayed silent, withdrawing further and further into yourself, until you’d built up an entire fantasy world within your mind and soul, which became your new reality?

And so he promised to himself—and mentally to you—that he’d never, even if it were true—tell you he doesn’t care what you have to say. He won’t be just one more person to hurt and let you down. Just like he knows you won’t be as much to him.

You’re good for him. He could tell as much from the first day he spoke to you.

He stares at you for a moment, making you squirm. “I don’t believe that.”

“Ok.” You don’t particularly feel like arguing. He can believe whatever he wishes.

He frowns. He dislikes that you don’t seem to much care what his opinion of you is. He supposes it’s a strange dichotomy. Going from Cassie who, it was all she cared about, to you, who clearly can’t care less.

“You’re really telling me that talking to barely anyone at school, except occasionally Lexi, and being alone in this house all the time doesn’t ever get to you?”

You shrug. “It’s just what I’m used to.”

In all the talking to him you’d done over the past week, all of it had been surface-level. About history or the new book you were reading, or something you’d read in a news article. None of it was actually truly about you.

If his plan to get in deeper with you—to know you like no other person on the planet does—is going to work, then you need to give him more.

“What if it wasn’t?”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugs, looking up to the ceiling. “What if we started hanging out more often than just when we study after school? We could text or something, too.”

You appreciate his being concerned for you, you think it really kind of him. Even if makes you the least bit uncomfortable. You tell yourself it’s simply because it’s something you’re not used to: someone showing genuine concern for you.

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

He looks at you again. “You wouldn’t be. I like spending time with you.”

You’re not sure how to respond, so you just say thanks.

“I feel like for the last week I’ve done nothing but ask you questions about yourself. Is there anything you want to know about me?”

He’ll never admit it, but your lack of interest in him hurts his feelings. It makes him feel like you aren’t nearly as attracted to him as he is to you.

“I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He smirks. So that’s why. Always so fucking considerate; his sweet girl.

“You won’t.”

You think for a moment. The things you really want to ask him about are too personal this early on (even if you’d told yourself such things were none of your business, you can’t help wanting answers). Like why he despises his dad so much, and what happened with him and Maddy and Cassie. And what happened at that New Year’s party which landed him in the hospital?

You start smaller. “What made you want to play football?”

He considers giving you some bullshit answer—which will seem a plausible enough explanation—and giving you the actual truth. Finally, he decides on both. “It gives me something to do, for one. A reason to push myself harder. It gives me something to focus on. And football is a contact sport. So when I’m pissed off, I finally have something to take it out on.”

“Like when you’re angry with your dad?”

He grows silent.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

He shakes his head. “It’s ok. It’s not like I’ve exactly been subtle about my dislike of him.”

He doesn’t elaborate further than that.

“So…what’s your favorite color?”

He laughs. “I don’t know. Black, I guess.”

Somehow it seems fitting for him.

He looks at you, able to read you. “But that’s not the kind of question you want to be asking, is it?”

“I don’t want to overstep boundaries.”

He leans up on one elbow. “Then how about we make it fair? You ask me one actually personal question, and then I ask you one. And we both have to answer. No matter what. As soon as one of us refuses to, I head home.”

You think about it for a moment, worried about the sorts of things he may ask, but you have an out. “Deal.”

He smiles. “Alright, ladies first.”

“Will you tell me what happened during New Year’s?”

He sits up fully then. “Fezco smashed a bottle over my head, then beat me within an inch of my life. He got the upper hand immediately by doing what he did with the liquor bottle. He almost fucking killed me, all for a worthless druggy.”

Your brows furrow. “Who?”

“Rue went to him with some made-up story about me harassing her and some friend of hers online. When in reality I want nothing to do with her. So then he threatened to kill me and finally fucking tried to.”

“Why would she do something like that?” It feels like he isn’t giving you the whole story. He’s laid out the edges of a puzzle, but is withholding the middle.

He shrugs. “She’s a drug addict, how should I know?”

Before you can reply, can think of a polite way to say: so what’s the real story here, he takes his turn.

“How come we were never friends?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’ve known each other since we were five-years-old. We grew up together, have known each other for over a decade now. And only in the last week have we really finally talked, or spent any amount of time together.”

You lean back in your seat. “Well, just because you grow up with someone doesn’t mean that fact has to serve as some prerequisite to becoming best friends or something. Sometimes people, even from a young age, just don’t click. You were always running around on the playground, playing sports with others. I was always sitting off to the side and reading or coloring or playing with toys. I guess you were just more outgoing than me.”

“You know what they say: opposites attract.”

You tell yourself he’s just referring to friendship.

He lays back again. “Well, it may’ve only taken eleven years, but we’re friends now. I just… I just wonder what things might’ve been like had it happened sooner.” He sighs, then, “Your turn again.”

To an extent, you wonder that, too. Mostly just what it would’ve been like to have a best friend for that long.

“What happened between you, Maddy, and Cassie?”

“Not going to give me an easy one, huh?”

You let out a small laugh.

“Me and Maddy had been together since sophomore year. I guess we just grew comfortable with one another, even if we weren’t always happy. Even if it wasn’t always healthy. It didn’t start out toxic. We were happy at first. For awhile. A long while. But she just…it was like she wasn’t pleased unless we were fighting and then making up.

“It was just a constant cycle of her beating me down, then trying to build me back up again through sex. She just…she made me feel like shit about myself. As both her boyfriend and a man. It was like it wasn’t bad enough: the shit I dealt with at home with my dad. She just had to become one more problem in my life that I was forced to deal with.

“I’d hoped that if I loved her hard enough, if I gave her enough, she’d love me back the way I wanted to be loved. The way I loved her. Turns out I was just a fucking idiot.”

Tears sting your eyes. You feel so sorry for him. To be so young and to have already known an emotionally abusive relationship was heartbreaking. It was one reason why you refused to date at such a young age. You were all too young to understand yourselves, nevermind another person. Not in the context of loving and taking care of them, at least. You all were barely even fully-formed people yet.

So that was what Lexi had been referring to before. Just like everything, there were always two sides.

“And Cassie?” You ask, softly.

A muscle in his jaw feathers. “Just a giant fucking mistake. We first hooked up a couple weeks after Maddy and I had broken up…again. It happened on New Year’s Eve. I just…maybe I was trying to get even for what Maddy had done to me at the beginning of the school year—fucking a guy in the pool at McKay’s house—right in front of everyone.

"And then we hung out more, and at first I thought she was different. Maybe better for me. Until she started blowing up my phone with hundreds of calls and texts, screaming one night in my room about how crazy she was, how she’d never let me be with anyone else. How she was better for me than all the rest.”

Your brows raise. That unhinged? Cassie had always seemed so sweet and demure to you. But you’d also hardly ever been around her outside of school.

And dating—being in relationships—seemed to sometimes bring out the worst in people. Facets they themselves didn’t even know they had.

“I’m sorry, Nate. I never knew Cassie was so…” You trail off, until he fills in the rest for you.

“Psychotic?”

You laugh. “I wasn’t going to say it like that, but…” You shift legs, wrapping your arms around your other one now. “Your turn.”

He remains lying back, wanting this question to come off as something he’s casually asking. Whereas, in reality, he’ll be holding onto every word of your answer.

“Have you ever dated before?”

You feel like you suddenly want to use your out, but refrain. It’s a simple enough question, with a simple answer. “No.”

He looks over at you. “Never?”

You shake your head. “Nu-uh.”

His brows raise. He’d never known you to have a boyfriend before, but until recently he’d not exactly kept tabs on you.

It surprises him.

“Have you never kissed anyone or had sex?” He prays the answer to both is no. Also hopes you don’t cut his questioning you short.

You’re quiet for a moment, the two of you just staring at one another. Until, finally, you decide to answer. “No. And I’m not ashamed to say it. Not having done either of those things is a choice, just like having done them is as well.”

He sits up, hunching over to try and hide the erection he can feel forming.

No one has ever been inside of you—not in your mouth, not in your pussy, and not in your ass. Another pair of lips have never even touched your own, another tongue has never tasted you. Another pair of eyes has never explored your lovely naked body.

He wants to know what you do, then, to satiate yourself when the mood strikes. Do you rub at your clit until you come? Do you finger yourself—he wonders if your hymen is still intact? Do you bunch a pillow up between your legs, humping it until you've finished and the case is soaked? Or do you take and rub your teddy against your wet, needy pussy until you’re sore and can’t take it anymore?

God he wants to know what you fucking taste like. Wants to feel your fingers in his hair as he goes down on you. Needs to know what your perfect pussy feels like around his cock.

But he knows it’s too soon for any of that. For you, at least.

“That’s not something to be ashamed of. Not nowadays. You should be proud of yourself for having held out this long. I admire it.”

You shrug. “It’s not that hard to do.”

He smirks. “That’s because you’ve never done it before. Once you’ve been with someone in that way…giving up that kind of intimacy is difficult.”

You think any kind of intimacy must be hard to let go of after having it. Whether it’s emotional, intellectual, physical…sexual. Maybe it’s one more reason you keep most people at arm’s-length. If you never let anyone in, then you’ll never have to worry about losing them.

You clear your throat. “My turn.”

He lays back again.

“Can I ask about your dad?”

He flexes his jaw. “What about him?”

“Why do you hate him so much?”

There’s a long pause and then he finally sits up. “I guess it’s time for me to go.”

You plant both of your feet on the floor, now sitting on the edge of your swing-chair. “You don’t have to. I’m sorry. I was just curious. Since he always seems so…perfect, you hating him, I guess, is just a source of confusion for me. Then again, maybe that perfection is the source of it: your hate. I don’t know.”

“That’s part of it. But not all.” And that’s all the answer he’s willing to give you.

Letting onto his hate for his father in the first place was a mistake. But that loathing sometimes seeped out. And he feels like he can be honest with you. He trusts you. So, sometimes he lets go a little. That lid he keeps so tightly screwed slips loose sometimes in your presence.

He stands and you fill with guilt.

You’d gone too far. You’d known better—that asking about his father would end up being a mistake—but you’d brought him up anyway. And now you’d ruined the day.

“You really don’t have to leave. We can talk about something else?”

He pretends to consider that for a moment. When in reality, he’s all too-pleased that you’re so eager for him to stay.

Then, he steps over to you, standing in front of your seat, towering over you as you look up at him. He briefly thinks that this would be a perfect position for the both of you to be in as you take him into your mouth.

Then, he kneels down. One week was all it had taken for you to bring him to his knees.

He reaches up, grabbing either of the ropes the chair hangs from from on either side of you. “It’s Friday.”

You smile nervously. “That’s very observant of you.”

He smiles, letting out a small chuckle. “I just mean that it’s only four o’ clock; still early. We could go do something together.”

He begins to lightly swing you, just barely.

“Like what?” You ask quietly.

He shrugs. “Whatever you want. I could take you to dinner, take you shopping. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, even if you just want to drive around.”

You don’t know how to respond to his offer. “You don’t have anywhere else you need to be?”

“Not at all.” He wants so desperately to touch you, but he sees you like a newborn fawn, easily frightened; skittish. So he refrains. For now at least.

You glance to the set of glass doors beside the two of you which lead into your backyard. At the sun still high in the sky and tree branches blowing lightly in the wind. And then you look back to Nate, seeing no good reason to waste such a beautiful day cooped up inside.

“Okay.”

He smiles. “Good.” He stands, offering you his hand.

You take it, doing the same. “I’ll just be a minute, I need to change again. Don’t really want to go out in sweats.”

He nods, going to leave, then stops by your closet. He pulls the doors open and you watch as he pulls out a light-pink sundress, then turns back to you, holding it out in your direction.

“You don’t have to wear it, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen it on you at school before. Just thought it might look nice.”

You gently take the dress from him.

He speaks before you can tell him no. “I’ll be waiting in the living room. Take your time.”

Once the door has shut behind him, you look down at the dress in your hands, then at the things you usually wear—the clothes you feel most comfortable in—beckoning you from your closet.

While you dress, Nate leans back on the couch, hoping you wear what he’s picked out for you. In truth, he wants to dress every inch of you. He wants to do your hair, your makeup—even if you never wear any. He wants to pick out a cute matching pair of lingerie for you—so only he knows what’s under your clothes—your shoes, your jewelry, even your perfume.

He isn’t sure why it means so much to him—perhaps it’s just another thing he feels the need to have control over. He wants you to look nice. He knows you’re capable of matching his ideal picture of what he wants you to be in his head.

When you finally emerge from your bedroom fifteen minutes later—you’d spent half of that time sitting on your bed considering putting the dress away—he’s left speechless.

You’d put on the dress, along with a cute pair of sandals, your toes already painted a pleasant shade of pink, which just so happens to match the item you’re now wearing. And between your breasts hangs a necklace.

You stand in the entryway awkwardly, one of your hands clutching your other arm. “I feel ridiculous,” you whisper, your face red.

He stands, coming to position himself in front of you. “You look beautiful.”

You’re surprised by his response. Wearing something which shows off so much of your body makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

You’d considered putting on a cardigan to cover your arms, but it’s almost ninety-degrees outside. So you decided against it.

He reaches around to the base of your ponytail, his thumb, index and middle finger gripping your hairband. “May I?” He asks, looking down at you.

You feel dumbstruck by the sensation of the base of your hair in his grip, so you just nod.

He gently pulls the band free, your hair falling over your shoulders and down your back, coming to rest just above your ass.

He’s never seen hair as long as yours before. Why the hell do you keep it up all the time?

He flexes his hand, the holder now firmly around his wrist and he reaches up with both of his hands, running his fingers through your soft hair, massaging your scalp as he styles it.

You just stare up at him, his face the picture of concentration as his fingers work against your head, through your long strands of hair. Your eyelids droop just a bit out of the feeling of relaxation that comes over you, goosebumps rising on your arms.

Nate takes note of that, as well as the quiet whimper in the back of your throat as his fingers brush against the base of your neck for just a moment. He likes that you like the way he’s touching you. He wants to know what other places his fingers and hands could explore that would get him similar results.

Finally, once he deems your hair presentable to his personal satisfaction, half of it falling down your back, the other half split evenly over both of your shoulders, he slips one hand into his pocket, the other coming to rest under your chin, making you look up at him again.

He feels blood rush to his cock at the flushed, lax look on your face as your hooded eyes stare up into his own.

“Why don’t you wear your hair down more often? It looks very pretty like this.”

“It gets in my way,” you state, your voice now having a dreamy quality to it.

He really likes you like this. All soft and submissive and dressed how he likes. He wants you wrapped around his finger sooner rather than later. Completely his in every single fucking way imaginable.

Today will be one step closer to getting that future.

He deems what you’ve said a good enough answer, but he knows you’ll have to get used to it. Your hair being down suits you far better than it being up.

He steps away, walking over to the door, holding it open for you.

Once you’ve locked it behind you, he holds open the passenger side door of his truck for you, same as always, shutting it firmly once you’re inside.

#fic: euphoria (nate jacobs x reader)#nate jacobs x y/n #nate jacobs x you #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs imagine #euphoria x reader

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