#don’t ask me what that means I’m tired and hardly even thing about the shit I post anyway

[thegreatcrowdragon]

I genuinely did not notice at first but they swapped his eyes around? I know it’s concept art but I’m curious on why

#cookie run kingdom #cookie run #shadow milk cookie #not tagging pv because he doesn’t matter here #the rest of his design seems the same so either this was late in development or he just always looked like that #he looks soooo good in that lighting. in game he’s a bit… he looks like someone threw various shades of blue paint on him. #and the vibe he gives off… I fear the fandom might see him as only the manic jester type when he’s more like a coy snake waiting to strike #don’t ask me what that means I’m tired and hardly even thing about the shit I post anyway

[onelittlespiral]

You should definitely do a preppy boy tf!

FML: Contact

I knew I should have charged my phone before I left, but I was running late and didn’t want to miss my study session. I know, I know it was stupid. But the walk was only supposed to be a few blocks. I have no idea how I got this lost. It felt like I was wandering for hours, but I kept just going around in circles and ending up in front of this gym. Great, just what I needed before finals week. Maybe I should stop an- ugh. My bag spilled out in front of me as I wa a knocked to the ground.

“Hey, sorry bro.”

It seems like on about my third time around the block I finally ran into one of the gym’s patrons, idiot. For the life of me I will never know how those guys will walk out in shorts in December. I started to scoop my belongings back into my bag.

“Here, let me help- Ah fuck, that could be bad.” He picked up my laptop and handed it to me. Thankfully it seems that there wasn’t any real damage, but a few deep scratches were carved in the metal and the screen was definitely cracked.

“Just what I needed today! Look where you’re going next time!” I was nearly in tears. I was lost, I was frustrated, I think the fall tore a hole in my khakis, and now my computer would be busted till after finals.

“Hey, I said I was sorry. Didn’t mean to knock a shrimp like you down. I didn’t even hit you that hard…”

“Well sue me if I don’t have time to get swoll bro,” I spat, “but some of us have finals to study for.”

“Oh dang, that’s where I know you from! English 110, with Professor Kim. Yeah, you’re always in the front and answering shit.” Immediately the puzzle pieces clicked. I can’t blame myself for not recognizing him. He must have been one of the dudes who sat in the back, and they all basically acted, talked, and looked about the same. A bunch of gym rats struggling through the gen eds. I’m genuinely surprised he can to class often enough to recognize me. “Hey man, are you studying for this final later? I’m just like not getting this stuff. Like, why are they having Exercise Science majors out here studying English anyways?”

“Uhh, yeah maybe.” At this point I was past the point of caring about this conversation. It was such a simple class I hardly had even glanced over the study guide. I had packed my things and was making to get up and leave.

“Here bruh, lemme help you up,” and he extended his hand to me. I grabbed hold as a small shock passed between us. It was just a split second, but as his calloused, sweaty had grasped mine, I felt a jolt that stuck my hair on end. I hardly had time to notice as he hoisted me up. “Hey, if you do end up reviewing later, maybe give me a heads up. We could do a study session or something.” He pulled out a pen and scribbled on the back of a receipt. Grabbing my hand again, and pulled me into a bro hug before I could protest. Up close he was warm and humid, sweat cooling in the cold winter air. He left the paper in my hand when he pulled away. He smirked, “You should ask inside, they may be able to help. I’ll see you later tonight.” There was a confidence in his voice that sent a chill down my spine. Before I knew it he had booked it, and I was left with a piece of paper, a broken computer, and a sinking realization I was still lost.

With few options left, I popped into the gym my classmate had just come out of. Maybe they would have a charger I could borrow or be able to help me with directions. At least it was warm inside. I walked over to the man at the desk, asking “Hey, sorry to bother. Do you all have a phone charger? I am completely lost and out of juice.”

“You can bother me any time,” the attendant said with a wink, “We’ve got some chargers in the locker room, but management is struck about people using facilities without paying. You already a member with us?”

“No, do I look like a member with you all? Please, I’m tired and at this point I just need to get home.” I groaned.

“Well sorry bro, you’ve gotta get those gains somewhere… let’s see, a day pass only runs about $5,” he slid the card reader to me.

“Fine.” I thrust my card into the machine and grabbed my receipt, storming off towards the locker room.”

“Enjoy your time! Oh, sir. Those aren’t the locker rooms they are the changing ro-” and the swinging door cut him off. I cut to the first door on my left. The overhead lights activated as I walked in. The inside was warm, hotter even than the lobby. For locker rooms, there were very few lockers. Just cooler with some sports drinks, some mirrors, and a charging station. No one else was inside, so I sat down on a bench and set my phone down on the charging station. With the heat I quickly began stripping layers, till I was down to my sweater, but I was not going shirtless in this place. It looked like it would be a while before my phone would be charged. I tried to put the whole situation out of my mind as I laid back and relaxed, carried to sleep in the thick heat…

I woke up a while later, disoriented and thirsty. It may have been a bad idea to sleep in the sweater, the thing was practically dripping in sweat now. I began to pull off the damp thing when I was shocked to see what was underneath:

Abs. Pecs. Abs and pecs. I had to be dreaming, when did I go from a stick to having abs and pecs. Not only that, but my arms. Thick and smooth, my arms looked swollen, as though I had been working them out for years. And my legs, they felt like lead beneath me, so heavy I could hardly move them. I could crush a melon between my thighs. And my poor shoes, they were practically in tatters on the floor. My toes poked out of the remains, leather torn between my meaty soles. I looked in the mirror to get a full picture. If I didn’t see it I wouldn’t have believed it, I was a whole different man.

I grabbed my phone and booked it out the door back to the front desk. The same attendant was there, looking me up and down as I passed by:

“Well hey there handsome. How are you enjoying our amenities?”

I just about strangled him, “What the hell happened? What did you all do to me?!?”

“I did try to tell you. Locker rooms are the other side. Those are the changing rooms.”

“What’s that supposed mean?”

“Well, look at yourself. Must have gone for the muscle enhancement, eh? Not a bad look on you.” I could just about wipe that smug look off his face.

“Cut the bull crap, I didn’t ask for this. If you all changed me into this change me back.”

“So sorry,” the apology dripped from his lips, “but things don’t quite work that way. For more specialized changes you have to get a full membership.”

“That’s a fucking lie,” I shouted, “You never said shit about this. I don’t need your membership. Change me back, now.”

“Woah, calm down there hot stuff, no need to get so worked up. How about this. My boss is home for the night. I know what you looked like when you came in. I can sneak you back into one of our specialty changing rooms, and I’ll calibrate it myself. Deal?”

I was about in tears, “Deal.”

He took my hand and lead me to the changing room all the way in the back. Same set up, same bench in a mostly barren room. This one was maybe a tad smaller. His voice came on over the intercom:

“Alright, now just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”

This time, deep red lights came on and that same heat began to fill the room. It somehow felt a bit different. The other heat wrapped around, this one felt like it pierced. In moments my body was flooded with warmth. Sweat rolled down my body as the room began having its effects. But something wasn’t right. Instead of shrinking down to my lithe self, my body felt like it was bubbling, and began to swell even more.

“Hey. HEY! What the hell! What are you doing out there? Wrong way asshole!”

He chuckled into the intercom, “What? I think it’s a good look on you.”

“You’re supposed to change me back!” I shouted

“I said I would calibrate the room. I didn’t say how. You should feel lucky, you’re getting the VIP treatment for free!”

Everywhere sweat rolled my muscles stretched as my body began writhing under the feeling of its growth. It felt… it felt… oh god it felt… so…good. But it had to be stopped. I couldn’t keep going like this. I put all my effort into standing up and lunged for the door handle. It didn’t budge, locked from the outside.

“Oh, is this not to your taste?” he teased “Well, I already did smooth jock tonight. Fine, let’s try this then.”

The red lights switched off as dull LED’s took their place. At the same time, a mist began pouring into the room. The smell made me dizzy as I slumped back on the bench behind me. The haze curled around me and stuck to my skin. It smelled like aftershave, sharp and fresh, with a coolness that made me shiver. My skin began to tingle wherever it touched. I watched as my skin turned to goosebumps, then slowly a fine layer of fuzz began to coat my pecs. It grew and curled wherever the mist lead it. It blazed a treasure trail down my abs and branched out to cover them. I could only moan as my body pushed out my new pelt. It curled around my back as a forest erupted behind me. Working it’s way up, I felt a tickle on my jaw and cheeks. It caressed my face as a five o-clock shadow pushed out from my smooth face, and in moments a full beard was pushed out. It’s curling tendrils even worked on the hair I already had. I felt the hair on top of my head stand on end before following the mist into a thick mop. It worked it’s way into my gapping mouth too, and I felt my throat stretch and adjust, my moans coming out much deeper. Then it concentrated on my groin and pits. My previously trimmed bushes grew wild, quickly becoming a tangle. As my pubes grew around, it felt soooo good. I began getting hard, but the mist only took that as an opportunity. Something else to grow and curve. It stretched 6, 7, 8, 9 inches straight out before curving distinctly up. I was in pure ecstasy, with only the thought of the man outside watching keeping me from fully jacking off.

“Wow, what a grower. I knew you had potential but, woof.”

“You… won’t… *gasp*…get away… with… with this!”

“Oh, still a little rebel in you? Maybe we can bring that out a bit.”

The mist receded, and overhead the lights began to strobe and a loud white noise began to play. The pattern was disorientating and it hurt to watch. But even when I closed my eyes I couldn’t escape. A splitting headache developed as my emotions all turned to anger. I tried to shout, to call for it to stop, but my words didn’t even reach my ears. I watched in glimpses as I began to scream, deep and primal, rage in my eyes. My arm clenched into a fist and I ran up to pound the door down. It still didn’t budge but the shock sent a ripple down my arm. In the mirror I watched as in slow motion a full sleeve tattoo stretched down my arm. I sat down in pain and fear and anger as I grew close to tears. But the back of my mind knew that I could not cry, not anymore. Then, all at once it stopped. I realized I was still shouting. I felt pissed off, aggressive. When I got out of this room, I was gonna pummel that twink into submission.

“God, that one always gets me. I love a man with tattoos.”

“Fuck OFF” I growled. I looked in the mirror at the monster I had become:

My mind was being flooded with emotions, a sense of loss for the person I was, a rage at the man who had done this to me, an animalistic horniness from my sizable new cock, and a deep terror for what else could happen. I channeled that fury and made one last attempt on the locked door. I yanked and rattled the door with all the strength this new body could muster. I felt the handle flex beneath my grip, before a loud *snap* sent me plummeting to the ground. The handle had come off the door. I banging against the door, shouting for anyone to come help me.

“Hmmm,” the attendant contemplated, “I may have gone too far with the rage this time. You’re a beast bro, but let’s reign it in. A healthy dose of this should help.”

A new cloud filled the room, this one thicker than the last. It was damp and sticky and clung to every inch of me. This one smelled rich and acrid, like an arm pit that had long since sweat through any deodorant. It was as though every patron of the gym had joined me in the room fresh from their workout. The fog was so thick I felt as though I was beginning to choke. It slid heavily down my throat and made my eyes water. That’s when I felt it begin to corrupt me. My enraged mind became calm, then addled as my brain filled with the all consuming fog. Memories flashed before my eyes as I felt them slip from my mind, replaced with false copies. I felt my college experience shift from books and classes to working out and tutoring sessions. My classes in journalism and writing were swapped for work out routines and remedial math. Then my cock began twitching as memories of hot workout sessions with my bros filled my mind, replacing my book club. As my mind relaxed and the new memories came to me easier and easier. My IQ was slipping down quickly, resting now somewhere around 75. As my mind relaxed I felt my body do so too. The cloud began seeping into my pores, filling me with its corrupting influence. My body betrayed me, greedily sucking up the cloud until the room was completely clear. I felt warm and tingly, my body pressed flat against the cold floor. I lifted my arm to get a good wiff of my funk. My cock jumped in response. God I needed to fuck. The cloud had saturated me, inside and out, soaking me in a new identity.

“How are you feeling in there big guy?” a voice was on the other side of a speaker in the room.

“Aight I guess man. I’m tired. Guess I passed out in here,” I replied. God, just waking up from a nap and I had my morning wood. The door opened, a cute bro was on the other side.

“Have you enjoyed your day pass sir?” He asked.

“Hell yeah Lil’ bro, it’s been good. This gym is stacked. I haven’t felt this worn out after a workout in a while!”

“Have you considered upgrading that day pass to a full membership? I know I would love to see you around,” he said with a wink.

“Mmm, wouldn’t mind seeing you every day. Gimme the forms.” He led me out to the lobby, I signed a few forms, and handed me a card.

“Now remember next time, locker rooms are over there,” he smirked. “Here, this is free with your sign up.”

He threw a tank top over to me. Good thing too, I think I forgot mine at home. It fit snugly over my huge chest. It made my arms look huge too. Just a shame I sweat so much after a workout, I already had some pit stains going. Shit, I was rank.

“Thanks bro, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I strolled out the door into the cold winter air. I flexed, feeling the breeze wick some of my sweat away.

“Hey, excuse me?” Some dork walked up to me, looking desperate. I felt like I knew him from somewhere, though I couldn’t place it. “Would you happen to be able to help me? I have been going around in circles and can’t seem to find my way. I have an exam in just a few hours.”

“Nah, sorry man. I’m not quite sure I’m able to help. Never been good with directions huhu,” that’s when it clicked, “Hey, you’re in my bio class aren’t you? Ah shit, is that exam today?!? Fuck, I’m never gonna pass that crap.”

He looked a little flabbergasted, but made some excuses and was about to move on when I grabbed him. I felt something pass between us, as his gaze fell onto me, unblinking, “You should check in the gym bro, I know they can help you out.” I pulled away and the moment passed. I reached into my pocket and pulled out two receipts. The first was my receipt for my day pass. I scribbled down my contact info, and handed it off to the nerd. “Here, if you want to talk about lifting with me and my buds later you should give me a call. Looking a little scrawny bruh.”

He took the receipt before wandering towards the gym entrance. I then looked at the second paper I pulled out. Oh yeah, it was that hot gym bro from earlier. Yeah, I could meet up with him for sure. His name at the top rang a faint bell. For a split second, I remembered a friend I would sit next to in class. Smart, nerdy, nothing like the man I had met on the sidewalk earlier... But just then I felt my brain pounding, and I couldn’t focus on… whatever it was I was thinking about. Oh, right. Hot jock. Yeahhh, I’m gonna go see if he wants these rank pits shoved in his face while I ride his cock.

————

Maybe not what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy anyways ❤️

#hypnosis #bro #transformation #musk #preppy tf #jockification #fml #muscle tf #changing #reality change #straight to gay #jock tf

[flynnriderishot]

why’d you only call me when you’re high? - c.s

a/n: i don’t usually do angst, but i hope you enjoy :)

he was toxic.

you knew he was, he knew he was, even if he didn’t think it was purposeful. hell, even his brothers knew it. but that didn’t mean you loved him any less.

you and chris weren’t actually a couple, but you did do couple-like things, only these things would be done indoors.

out in the world and in your social medias, you and chris only seemed like a pair of best friends. so why did he treat you like he loved you when no one was around?

or, you counted it as love.

nick didn’t. neither did matt. or madi and nate. no expect you, really.

you don’t treat someone you love like an old friend you ran into at the store.

you don’t treat someone you love like a second option.

you didn’t like being a second option, but you also didn’t want chris thinking he couldn’t count on you.

which is why you were currently in his bed with him, his head lying on your chest as you ran your fingers through his hair.

you could hear chris’ soft breaths as he fell into the comfort that was your embrace. his eyes were red from his previous activities before he called you over.

you were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t noticed your hand movements stopped.

“yn?”

“hmm?”

chris lifted his head, “why’d you stop?” his voice was so soft and gentle that no one would assume how he really treated you.

“what?” you then realize, sighing softly before continuing your previous actions, “oh, sorry.”

“okay. what’s wrong?” he sat up with a groan, his eyes drooping slightly with tiredness, or maybe it was from the drugs he took, you didn’t know.

“nothings wrong.”

“don’t lie to me.” he put his hand out to caress your cheek only for you to gently push him away.

“do you like me, chris?”

he seemed offended that you would even think to ask him such a thing, “yeah—”

“don’t lie to me.” you echoed his words back to him.

whatever high chris had quickly left his body upon realizing your usual calm and alluring nature was replaced with sadness and a bit of frustration.

“of course i like you. what kind of question is that?”

“a question that i desperately need answered.” you nearly snapped, “i’m tired, chris.”

“then relax—”

“no.”

“we can talk about it later—”

“no.” your voice cracked at his neglecting, forcing you stand up to show him that you weren’t joking around,

“i want to talk about it now, chris. i’m tired of you only wanting anything to do with me when you’re high off your ass and your brothers want nothing to do with you.”

“hey, no, you know that’s not true. baby—”

“stop it.” your lips turn downwards as you forced yourself not to cry. you soon realize that you were getting no where, “i’m going home.”

“no, hey. you wanted to talk about it, let’s figure it out.” he tried reaching for you, only to have his hand swatted away,

“you can either get your shit together and call me when you’re sober, or you can leave me alone altogether. i truly do not care anymore.”

except you did. but you didn’t want him knowing that.

with that, you walked out, leaving chris in a bubble of confusion and his own thoughts. he was hardly able to get a word in, but he felt that even if you had given him the chance, he wouldn’t know what to say.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #Spotify

[snippy-tano]

I just finished watching the Blue Shadow Virus duology and all I could think of was Kix being Very Upset And Concerned when the love of his life was caught in the bunker and almost died/now needs to be nursed back to health…could that possibly be a fic, with lots of soft and worried Kix? (Take this any direction you want and take your time…I’ve been stalking your blog for a couple years and you’re amazing! I’ve read and reread so many of your fics 💕)

okay so i was a lot closer to finishing this one than i thought lol. i hope you like it @social-mockingbird and it was what you were looking for!! thank you for stalking my blog for so long and i hope to see you in my asks again real soon (hint hint)!! hope y'all like this one! honestly i feel like i'm on a roll so maybe i'll try to write something else tonight. i'm just in a fluffy mood i guess. what can ya do? anyway, enjoy!! let me know what you think!! :)

masterlist is here!

taglist is here!

tagging: @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life; @marvel-starwars-nerd; @mackstrut; @dissapointingpancake; @ahsokatano-thetogruta; @welcometothepedroverse; @lightning-wolffe; @fractiouskat; @mandaloriandin; @lussyyung; @lowkeyodinsong; @str-wrs-fics; @bantha-shit; @badbatch-simp24; @katelynnwrites; @s1st3r; @leotatombs; @torchbearerkyle; @rain-on-kamino; @the-navistar-carol; @bombshe77; @arctrooper69; @lucyysthings; @dominhoe-squad; @snipskixandbeskar;

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

Close Calls

In the end, things had worked out. 

The situation was definitely shaky in the middle, but between the troops, Senator Amidala, and Commander Tano, you were able to get everything under control. If you asked Kix however, you would think the world had ended. He had been by your side the moment you were pulled out of that bunker, datapad in hand, spitting out questions about your symptoms, asking about how you were feeling, and already talking about your treatment plan. 

At the time, you were too tired to fight him, raising a hand to pat him on the arm before you fell back unconscious. You were satisfied the moment you met his eyes, knowing he was okay and you were again in safe hands. It was enough for you to drift back off immediately. Which after the day you had, was welcomed.

You regained consciousness in the medbay, which had been repurposed to compensate for the large number of people who needed treatment. You could see Commander Tano a few beds down, already whining to Captain Rex (who was in the bed next to her) about being stuck in bed. Leave it to her to already be complaining about their confinement in the medbay. 

“Next time, try not to get infected with a deadly disease.” 

You chuckled lightly, turning your head to see Kix stroll up, datapad in hand. 

“I’ll try not to.” You let out a light cough, eyes squeezing shut. You opened them again to see Kix staring down at you. He let out a sigh, glancing around him. After seeing no one was paying the two of you any attention, he sat down on the edge, very carefully taking your hand in his. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“I know you didn’t mean to. But don’t do it again. Doctor’s orders.” Kix said, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. 

“Sir, yes sir.” You smiled, raising your other hand in a weak salute. Kix laughed lightly before lifting your hand and gently kissing the back of it. His thumb rubbed a few paths against the back and you smiled up at him.

It had been scary, not knowing if you would last long enough to get out or even if you were going to escape. You didn’t want anyone else to catch this or for this disease to go back into the galaxy, but you were terrified of losing Kix. Now that you were safe and he was here with you, things seemed like they were finally better.

“Now, how are you feeling? Do you feel sweaty? Bloated?” Kix asked as he stood up, picking up his datapad. 

Nevermind. You hated him.

You groaned. “Kriff Kix, do you really need to know that? It’s hardly romantic.”

“I’m your medic. So yes.”

You huffed, crinkling your nose. “Fine. A bit yes.”

Kix continued on, going through question after question. You always answered them honestly, knowing he was just doing his job, but you did enjoy throwing in some jokes here and there. It keeps him on his toes. If he was going to hover, you were going to make it a little hard for him to focus, sue you.

This routine continued for the next few rotations. 

Kix would come by any chance he had, he’d sit by your side, give you updates on the rest of the men, and always hold your hand. These moments were fleeting, as he was exceptionally busy, but you cherished every second you got with him. 

As you continued to take medication and were continuously monitored, you started to get your strength back. The sunken, ashen color that had taken over your skin slowly faded, as did the exhaustion. Every day you felt stronger. 

By the time you were cleared by the medical staff, you felt strong enough to go right back to work. 

Of course, the medical staff also advised that you needed at least a few rotations before going back to work, but there was some work you could get done from your bunk. Kix must have sensed your plan, because he decided it was a good idea to escort you back to your bunk. You tried to get him to leave once you arrived, but it was at that moment he revealed that he had the next two rotations off and would not be leaving your side.

So much for work. 

You were in the refresher, taking a well deserved shower for the first time since waking up in the medbay when you heard a knock on the door. 

“Yeah?” You yelled over the running water.

“Are you okay? Not lightheaded?” Kix shouted back. You let you a sigh and continued washing your hair.

“I’m fine Kix! I’ll let you know if I’m not!” 

He said something else, but you didn’t catch it. Instead you finished washing your hair and quickly stepped out. You threw on the comfiest clothes you had and tidied up the refresher before stepping out. 

Kix was there the moment you stepped into your bunk, hand at your elbow.

“Kix for kriff’s sake I’m fine. I’m feeling much better than before and I’m capable of walking on my own.” You whined. 

The medic hesitated, head dropping. You stopped, hand coming up to rest over his.

“You really had me worried. I thought you weren’t coming back.” He said softly and your annoyance deflated in an instant. You sighed. 

“Alright. I understand. I’m sorry for being pushy, it’s just good to be out of the medbay and I am feeling better. But I’d love for you to stay if you want.” You said, giving his hand a squeeze. Kix took a stuttering breath and looked up at you, nodding once. 

“If you’ll have me.”

You smiled. “I’d love for you to stay. Now go wash up. There’s some spare blacks in the bathroom.”

Kix returned the smile, giving your arm a squeeze and pressing his lips to your forehead before heading into the small refresher. 

You looked after him for a moment before finishing your nightly routine. By the time Kix finished in the ‘fresher, you were curled up in your bunk, fighting off sleep. He chuckled lightly, setting down his own clothes and turning off the light. 

“I guess I was more tired than I thought.” You hummed as Kix crawled into your small bunk. You shivered at the air entering your warmth, but it was quickly replaced by Kix’s warm arm pulling you back against him. 

“It’s a good thing I was here then.” He breathed against your ear. You elbowed him lightly in the stomach and tried to ignore his soft laughter by burying your face further into your pillow. He pressed another kiss to the side of your head. “Good night.”

“Night.” You breathed in response. “Love you.” Kix held on a little bit tighter, breathing against your skin. “Love you too.”

You drifted to sleep, warmer than you had been a while, sure that the future was bright as long as Kix stayed by your side.

#ahhhhh #this could have been longer but it was just too sweet i had to cut it off before i died fr an overdose of cuteness #hope you like it! #asks #askBri #kix x reader #medic kix x reader #the clone wars #sw #tcw #clone x reader

[biancadjarin]

Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince

Chapter 1 : Kiss it Better

🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹

Part 2 here

Pairing : EM x Popular cheerleader

You’re reorganizing the shelves in the nurses office on a Thursday afternoon. You started spending your free periods after lunch here to get some extra service hours and to make your mom happy, a nurse herself. This day in particular you’re the only volunteer and it’s pretty quiet. Occasionally someone will come in with a headache needing some advil or a bandaid for a cut. So you’ve gotten really good at getting a head start on your homework while you spend your 5th period in here.

You’re turning the page in your geometry textbook when you hear a knock. Before you can stand to open the door, it’s swinging open and the school freak, Eddie Munson, is ducking into the room. “Hey I-” he glances at you before doing a double take “I- uh”. “Oh my god” you rush over to him and look at the blood running down his cheek and caked on his knuckles. “Come in, sit down here.” He winces, walking holding his side and slowly sits on the paper covered bench. “Thanks.” You smile at him, grabbing some gauze, alcohol, and a few other things from the cabinet. You quickly wash your hands and you can hear his labored breathing behind you. He sucks air in through his teeth as he squeezes his eyes and exhales with a little whine. “Don’t worry, you’ll feel better soon.” You assure him. “What happened?” He sucks his teeth “Got in a fight after Jason said some shit in the cafeteria. I’m so tired of that guy.”

“Oh…” you know Jason since you’re on the cheerleading team but you’re not really a fan of his. He treats your friend Chrissy like crap and you’ve spent more than one night at her house wiping her tears away after he’s said something stupid and hurt her gentle feelings. But you don’t feel the need to tell Eddie how you really feel.

Especially since it’s getting kind of hard to form thoughts. You’ve had a little crush on Eddie since you first met him last year when you were the new girl in town. A lot of guys had tried to talk to you, asked to take you out but none of them were who you wanted. Someone mysterious, charismatic, passionate, funny. You wanted Eddie. And then when the whole “hot, new girl” buzz wore off and the douches started to leave you alone, you focused more on classes and cheerleading, putting finding a boyfriend in the back of your mind. But you’ve always harbored this crush on Eddie.

“I didn’t know you were the type to get into fights..” He snorts, “s’not like you know much about me at all.” You raise your eyebrows and nod, beginning to dab at the cut on his cheekbone. He felt bad, he didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, he just meant the two of you didn’t interact much. He’d like for that to be different. But why would a sweet, popular girl like you ever even want to look in his direction? You continue to wipe the dried blood off his cheek and he sucks in a breath when you clean it with alcohol soaked gauze. “Sorry, but this will help it not get infected.” you say sweetly. He nods slowly watching your face as you furrow your brow and bite your bottom lip as you focus on his injury. Your heart starts to beat faster when you feel his eyes take in your face, his gaze falling to your lips and neck. You subtly squeeze your boobs together as you lean forward, hoping he notices your cleavage peeking out of your v-neck. His eyes dip down before blinking and looking towards the ceiling.

He clears his throat, “You um- you were in my English class last year? Y/N right?” “Mhm” you nod. Eddie had sat in the back of that class and hardly paid attention, when he bothered to show up at all. “You were always the first one to raise your hand when Mr. Brown asked a question.” He smiles, his memory of you distracting him from the throbbing in his hand. You feel your cheeks burn. Was he watching me in class? “Y-yeah I um.. English is my favorite subject.” He flashes a smile at you as you rub neosporin on his cheek. “Course it is princess”. His little nickname makes your heart skip a beat. You place a bandaid on his cheek, scooting back in your chair to take a look at your work. “Not me. I flunked that class. And most of my classes last year. S’why I’m here this year. Again.” He lifts his hands to emphasize. “Ahhh-“ he winces as he remembers the state of his knuckles. “Ok ok funny guy, try to keep still. Your cheek’s gonna be ok, just keep it clean, ice it when you get home and try not to get punched in the face again for at least a week ok?” He chuckles. “I’ll try.”

His eyes softening as he looks into yours. You feel a flurry of butterflies swirl in your stomach. How can someone so tough and scary have such sweet puppy dog eyes? You shake your head, pushing that thought away, “Do you think anything’s broken? Can you bend your fingers?” You gently slip his metal rings off of each finger and place them delicately on a paper towel. He flexes his fingers and shakes his head, poofy brown hair curling around his face. “Don’t think they’re broken.” You nod. You take his hand in yours and begin to clean. You scrunch your your nose and tell him “This is going to burn.” His lips form a little o as he exhales a gust of breath “ok I’m ready.” You pour alcohol on his knuckles and his other hand flies to your knee and squeezes. “Jesus! Fuck!” “I know, I know, I’m sorry. But we’re almost done.” You examine his knuckles closer, mostly just scraped up really, no bones or anything seriously broken. He grunts in response, his eyes screwed shut and his free hand still resting on your leg. You feel his thumb start to absentmindedly rub a rough circle on your thigh and your mind goes blank. All you can focus on is him touching you. You grab the cream and gauze. He peeks at his hand, exhaling in relief that it’s almost over. His eyes watch as your delicate fingers finish massaging the cream into his knuckles before wrapping his hand with gauze. “You’re really good at this.” Eddie says. “Well one upside to watching a lot of horror movies. Blood doesn’t gross me out like it does most people”. You smooth your fingertips over the wrappings to make sure it’s tight and then you smile at him, remembering what your mom always used to do when you would get hurt. You gently lift his hand with both of yours and give his knuckles a delicate kiss. He exhales a breath that he’d been holding in with a small laugh. “Sorry that was so weir-“ You say standing up and rushing to wash your hands again. Anything to hide your reddening face. “No, no, it wasn’t. That made it better” he smiled. That perfect Eddie smile. “Do you kiss everyone’s booboos?” He teases. You turn around and shake your head, “No actually”. “Well then I’m honored! But I think my cheek could feel a little better too…” he taps his pointer finger on the bandage there. The butterflies are going crazy in your stomach but you turn around and look at him. You step towards him and rest your hand on his denim covered chest, ready to lean towards his bandage covered cheek when you hear a banging on the door. “Eddie Munson are you in there?!” Your eyes go wide as you walk towards the door and open it. Principal Higgins towers over you as he shoots Eddie a look over your shoulder. “Fighting in the cafeteria and then hiding out in the nurse’s office? Honestly Eddie when are you going to grow up?” “I wasn’t hidi-“ “Enough! My office, let’s go!” Higgins turns and leads the way towards his office as Eddie rolls his eyes and begins to follow. He stops in front of you, his face inches from yours. “Thanks again princess.” He whispers with a weak smile as his hand reaches out to grab yours. He lightly rubs your thumb before letting go, disappearing into the hall. You begin to clean up the mess left from fixing Eddie up when something shiny catches your eyes. Eddie forgot his rings.

Once again my colorful conversations are inspired by the adorable @princesssmimi go read her stuff !

#eddie munson #em x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #self insert fic

[villainessprefect]

title: (Un)According to Plan

summary: Ace nudges Deuce to ask out Epel, but things don't go exactly as planned.

ship: EpelDeuce

word count: 2,214

note: written for an exchange I joined!

Read on AO3

Ace rolls his eyes the moment Epel leaves. The lilac-haired boy pouts as he's forcibly dragged away by that freaky hunter. Yet his gaze isn't focused on those of Pomefiore, but rather on one of his own.

Deuce is waving at Epel with a promise to catch him later. There isn't much they can do when it comes to Vil and his demand to have Epel at his side. So, the most he can do is just meet up with him when he's free. Or fight against Vil, although that hardly ends up well for the first years.

The redhead grimaces as he notes the way Deuce's eyes sparkle. They always shine brighter whenever Epel is mentioned. He practically jumps like an excited dog too. And whenever he's around, his attention is always on the smaller boy. There's a longing look, stuttering words escaping his calm demeanor, and a damned smile that comes together. It's...gross. Okay, not that gross, but did he have to be so damn obvious about it?!

Ace likes to think he doesn't mind the lovestruck gaze his friend has. It only bothers him because this idiot hadn't acted on his feelings! Sometimes he thinks that Deuce isn't even aware of the crush he has on Epel. While it's fun poking at him with that ammo, watching him grow flustered and weak against his teasing, it also backfired on him. Rather than encouraging him to confess, it seemed to do the opposite.

Perhaps it was time to finally end this never-ending song and dance.

"You should invite Epel to our next unbirthday party," he starts, a mischievous grin forming. "You know, as a date."

"You think he'd like to come-" A pause as that last, pronounced word sinks into his mind. Deuce blurts out a loud, "EH?!" His cheeks flare up instantly and Ace enjoys the sight of him struggling to be embarrassed or go on the defensive. It's definitely still worth teasing him over this.

"N-No. Wait, why?" Deuce isn't even sure what he's asking. Words fly out of his mouth without thinking. While he may not be the brightest, even he's not that dumb. He likes Epel. More than friends should and he knows it. But why bother to ask him out now? Is there something special about the next unbirthday party? No, there isn't.

"Look. I'm tired of you giving him googoo eyes all the time. You're into him and he's into you. Just ask him out. It's not that hard."

"...He's into me...?" Deuce mumbles as his eyes light up as if he was just told any wish of his would be granted for free. And now, Ace is regretting helping him out.

"How do you ask someone out? You've done it before, right?"

"Yup! It's easy." Ace states proudly. "You just gotta go up to him and ask. Like, hey Epel! Go on a date with me! That's all there is to it. Go on, try it."

"H-Hey, Epel!" Deuce stutters already. He clears his throat and adjusts his tie. He fidgets more than any normal person should and his goddamn crush isn't even around him anymore! His mouth opens and words struggle to leave his lips. "This shit is harder than I thought..."

"Man, I can't believe how innocent you can sometimes be," Ace sighs. At this rate, he'd never be able to pop the question. The thought of seeing them sticking as 'just friends' any longer is going to drive him mad! Maybe...maybe he can force it out of him.

"If you don't ask him out, then I will."

"What?!"

"You heard me." Ace puts on a bold bravado with his declaration. He doesn't mean it, obviously. He doesn't have any romantic interest in their classmate, but he has to play his cards right so Deuce can finally make a move. "We got how many more days until the party? He's probably available. So, I'll just ask him out later. You snooze, you lose."

"Don't you dare," Deuce hisses. Oh, there's the real Deuce in the flesh. A fire burns in his eyes as he throws all of that honor student crap to the wind. It doesn't last long though, unfortunately. The fire simmers out almost as quickly as it had appeared. "I mean. I'll ask him before you do! It's just...not that easy for me to do that."

"C'mon, just do as I said. Go up and ask him out. If anything just drag his ass to the party even if he says no."

"That's not the most honor student thing to do..."

Ace rolls his eyes and lets out a tired sigh. Is this how Riddle feels when he has to deal with them? He isn't sure how he feels about this now (although it's definitely not going to stop him from getting on their housewarden's nerves).

For once, he's almost glad the bell rang to signal that class was back in session. A headache was starting to throb the longer this conversation went on.

"A real honor student wouldn't be afraid to speak their feelings to someone, I'm just sayin."

Those are his final words on this topic. Deuce looks at him, a little confused as to what he means by that considering he is far from being an honor student.

For the rest of the day, that was all Deuce could think about. Lessons had gone by a little too fast and he felt like he skipped class despite physically being there. He couldn't tell if Ace was serious about his 'threat' and that worried him. It didn't help that it caused him to think about Epel and get distracted. The boy sighed as he put a hand to his head.

"Just ask him out," Deuce mumbles to himself. He clears his throat and straightens his posture. With no one else around in the hall he takes a chance to rehearse.

"Epel! W-Would you like to unbirthday my party with me? W-Wait, no that's wrong...The unbirthday party you're going to is cool! Huh? How do I know he's going...Ugh!"

He doesn't understand how Ace can casually say those things while he has trouble getting the lines right. Planning ahead isn't his style, but he feels like he should with this. Romance movies always follow a set path, they set up a cute scene and an almost kiss. The last part is definitely not something he thinks he can do just yet, but...that's better than nothing, right? No, no, he can't just force a kiss on him! He isn't even sure how? Would he ask first or just do it? Would he know when? Would Epel? Does he even want to kiss him?

Questions build up and he regrets letting his thoughts wander too far. His strength lies not with his mind, but with his heart. If he's going to do something, then he should just do it. Don't think. Act.

With confidence building up inside him, he is determined to follow through on his newfound instinct. And he's given a chance to do so when he spots Epel in the courtyard.

A little, unknowing, smile creeps up on his face as he makes his approach. He's about to call out to Epel until he notices a couple of other students, taller, muscular, ones hovering around him. Deuce doesn't know what's going on but by the looks on their faces, it can't be good.

"Hey, what's going on here?" He asks as he steps to Epel's side. A mixture of curiosity and a rising temper on his side. Now he can see those two sneering at Epel while he shoots them a subtle glare.

"Nothin," Epel answers with a huff. "These barbarians were just leavin'."

"Eh? The hell did you just call us?" One questions, cocking his head to the side.

"The princess thinks he can push us around just cuz he's the housewarden's favorite," the other teases.

"Hey!" Epel shouts. That nickname didn't sit well with him. Sure, he's small and cute, but princess? Princess?! Seriously?!

"Epel..." Deuce breathes out his name. He can feel the rage growing inside of him. But he can't let a fight start, not here, not now.

"Oh ho, so now the princess has his prince stepping in. How dashing." They laugh at their own jokes to rub it in.

"I ain't need no prince!" Epel shouts, stepping in front of Deuce. A snarl overtook the dainty look he normally wears. "I'll show ya!"

"Epel!" Deuce calls out, but it's too late.

Epel pulls out his pen and so do the other boys. Instinctively, Deuce does the same. He doesn't think that Epel is trying to prove himself and fight on his own, the only thing that comes to his mind is that he's not going to let him fight alone. His protective nature comes forth and like hell is he going to let anyone hurt his friend. If Epel hates having him help, he can scold him later. Right now he just doesn't want him to lose.

Spells are cast with disregard for the rules, the school, and each other. Magic flies around the courtyard in a frenzy. Some hit, some don't. Grass is burnt, water turns to ice, a cauldron misses its mark. Once. The second time it hits.

And that is what gives the first years their victory.

"Sorry for jumping in," Deuce apologizes as his attention turns away from the other students and back to Epel. "I couldn't just let you fight on your own."

Epel crosses his arms. He wants to be angry with him, he really does. He could have handled those punks on his own! Yet...

"Mmm it's okay." Epel shakes his head as he smooths down his uniform. One part sticks out, the hem of his coat singed due to a fire spell. It would have done more damage to him if Deuce hadn't gotten in the way. "I always appreciate your help. Thanks."

The smaller boy shoots him a smile. It makes Deuce's heart race. The sudden pounding in his chest reminds him of his earlier plan.

"You're welcome! Er, Epel, I wanted to ask you something." He clears his throat. "I, uh..."

Unbirthday party. Yes. Date. Yes? Easy!

Oh, wait. He's not supposed to be planning out what he wants to say, he's supposed to just say it. But everything he wants to say is jumbled and stuck in his throat. It doesn't help that he's looking directly at Epel, who has his face tilted down with bright blue eyes gazing up at him.

Damn, he's so cute.

"You're cute. W-Wait!" Deuce shouts. "You're not! I mean- shit!"

He's not supposed to call him cute. Anything but that. But can you blame him? Epel is cute. So cute that it distracts him from asking him out.

Deuce panics a bit. Is this the part where he should just kiss him? No. Yes. Talking isn't working so that feels like the only other option he has. When did asking people out get so difficult?

Epel clears his throat, although it goes unheard by the Heartslabyul student.

"Deuce." Hearing his name catches his attention. The sound of it being uttered so fondly breaks him free from his disastrous thoughts. "You want me to go to the unbirthday party with ya, right?"

"How did you...?"

"Ace told me." He sighs. "Sort of. Rook gave me the heads-up before Ace could drop the hint. I wasn't expecting ya to go through with it though. But Ace said I should let you try. Said it'd be worth the wait."

"Was it?"

"I think so," he smiles. "Seeing you try to not mess up asking me was worth it." He chuckles. Deuce lets out a breath he'd been holding. "Still...not worth you calling me cute."

"Sorry! I didn't mean to let that slip! I know you don't like it..."

"You get a pass, but don't do it again. Anyway, never been to one of your parties before. They're not...fancy, are they?" Epel dreads the thought of them being anything like Pomefiore's. Prim and proper and full of nutritious and small servings. He hates it.

"Nope! They're actually pretty fun! Dunno if you'd count tea as fancy, but Trey makes really good food. His sweets are the best! Then there's croquet to play after we eat. Uhh, there are rules we have to follow, but I'm sure the housewarden won't be too harsh on you since you're not from Hearslabyul."

"Oh, right..." A hum. "You know the rules better than I do. Can you teach me those too?" Epel flutters his eyelashes. He doesn't need to but it's definitely worth seeing Deuce's cheeks turn bright pink. Ace was right about this!

"Yeah!" He doesn't know all the rules, hell he can barely even keep the first ten down, but for Epel? He's willing to memorize all of them.

"Then...it's a date?"

"YES!" Deuce shouts, voice being heard from the hallways. His whole figure lights up at the prospect of two dates. At least, he thinks it counts as two, right? Forget thinking about it, he's just going to count them as two. Who knew asking for one date could land you two anyway?

#twisted wonderland #twst #epeldeuce #epel felmier #deuce spade #epel x deuce #heartslabyul #pomefiore

[docholligay]

Palentine’s: Rei and michiru “I find a belief in heaven rather cowardly, not to mention naive”

It had taken Rei a moment to find the right church to step into, Tokyo not having all that many choices, and some of them far afield, but she had managed. Now she sat in a pew, staring at the altar in the front. She should light a candle, maybe. Wasn’t that what her mother would have done? She had died so long ago, and for so many years Rei had held onto the little Catholic teaching she had for the sheer memory that her mother had cherished it. 

But at core, she was her grandfather’s child (Even so many years after his death, she could not consider herself her father’s, even if she saw more similarities on the page than she liked) and so she had little knowledge of how to grieve in a Catholic way, now that Shinto was proving no comfort. Any prayer she might have known at one time was as blurred and misty as the altar in her scarred sight, merely a sense of color and shape, impossible to define. 

A priest had stopped to ask if she needed anything, but then had mercifully left her. What could she have said? My wife died, she would say, and I don’t know what to do. She nearly spat at the thought of saying it. He would give some thin, pithy platitude and maybe assign a prayer she didn’t know and give her a card she couldn’t read. It would hardly be different from the thin, pithy platitudes other people were giving her. 

Mina left me, she would want to say, as her hands twisted around her cane. We have been together so long, and she just left me without a word one night. She didn’t say goodbye. She didn’t arrange things. Mina made a mess of everything and I had to fix it, again, just like I always do. She’s so irresponsible. 

“I supposed I might find you here.” 

Rei would never have needed to see to know who it was, her cool voice slicing through the silence of the church, her handbuilt heels clicking up the stone until they alighted on the aisle carpet. 

“I didn’t realize you pined so for the Catholic school of your youth.” 

“Michiru,” Rei sat in the pew, arms crossed, “Whatever you want to say just--shut up. I’m tired of hearing everyone give me advice, and tell me ‘oh it’s how she would have wanted to go,’ and ‘well at least you had love’ and all that stupid shit, and I can feel it, I can FEEL that you want to say something to me about you and Haruka and the nature of love and try and be that disconnected,” she was staring at her feet now, unable to keep her head raised for fear of showing the tears, “calm, poetic thing, and I don’t--” 

Her voice broke, then, shattered against the stone walls as if it were stained glass itself. 

“I was going to say, “ Michiru’s voice echoed in the emptiness, “That love is a gift; love is also a chain with a manacle at both ends.” she laughed softly, “Which is I suppose the sort of disconnected and cold poetry you accused me of, but we are what we are, at the close of business.” 

Rei wiped her face. “Thanks for the verse. Leave me alone.” 

“What I mean by that,” Michiru sat next to her and shook her head, “Have I ever been able to state something plainly? What I mean is, I very much understand what it is to be in the cold sea of life with someone, and suddenly realize that they are no longer alongside you, and you must keep swimming, but they are still tied to you, and the weight of their memory so heavy you might drown of it. I understand what it is to know that even a chest of gold can drag you to the bottom of the sea.” 

“Yeah, you know it so well it took you less than a year to be out with some woman every weekend.” 

“Because you love her, and you are in immense pain, I will forgive you for saying that.” her voice steeled. “Once. Say it again, so much as suggest it again, and we shall see which between us has kept her battle skills polished.” 

Rei opened her mouth. She wanted to fight. She wanted the argument, someone to yell at and hate. The feeling of combat, clean and clear and easy. All objectives known. She wanted to take this place and make it into her battlefield, to fight with Michiru, and fate, and God, whoever came first. Michiru would let her. Michiru would fight her, and truly resist her, because Michiru would know she needed it. 

Somehow, knowing Michiru loved her enough to do so made it less appealing. 

“How did you know I was here?”

Michiru crossed her ankles and leaned against the back of the pew. “Oh, Rei, I am well aware you see yourself as a great mystery, but I have known you lo these many years, and the most picturesque and quasi-European Catholic church in the broader Tokyo area, resplendent with carved wood and stained glass, seemed like a fairly reasonable place to start.”

Rei grabbed at her cane, but stayed seated. Where would she go?

“You’ve chosen a lovely place to mourn, however. The altar is carved entirely of dark wood, with two angels kneeling on either side, perhaps in grief, perhaps in reverence--what is the difference, really, when it comes to it? To grieve is only to accept the superiority of death--and against the white of the apse, it gives a nearly silhouetted effect. The stained glass, in parts, seems almost inspired by the likes of Chagall, in color and form, though i suppose we could argue Chagall himself had many inspirations. Though of course even in a more modern style one still has the usual suspects of Jesus and Mary and the like.”

She did this when they went new places together, pretending she was talking to herself, describing things Rei could no longer see. 

“Shame today is so sunny, I think, given the decor this place could truly encapsulate the moodiness you crave. If you’d ever like to go to Europe with me, it abounds with desolate and dank little chapels in which one can simmer as a stew, if one wishes. None of this garish white plaster to make the place cheerful. Who would want such a thing? One does not attend a mass to feel good about oneself, though I suppose it could be argued having nothing in the way of religion myself, I merely don’t understand.” 

Michiru,” Rei looked at the altar again. She could see the peaks that must be the top of the angels’ wings, and it began to come together in her mind, “Do you think there’s anything? Anything at all?” She rubbed the end of her cane. “Usagi told me Mina is in heaven. I just can’t--”

“Oh,” Michiru looked back at the altar, she and Rei in perfect paralell. “I find a belief in heaven rather cowardly, not to mention naive. I can accept the darkness. The nothing.” 

Rei gave a chuff. “You really know how to comfort someone.” 

“Rei, I happen to know you are perfectly capable of believing ridiculous things even with my express disagreement, otherwise you would cease bringing bargain wines to dinner. But,” she carefully, as if touching a wounded animal, took Rei’s hand, ‘We know I am no optimist. Perhaps there is, some sort of monistic thing, where all things are one, and in that sense perhaps they are still with us. If I believe anything, I believe that Haruka is with me when I see my daughter brush back her hair, or cut a sandwich into triangles.” 

“I want there to be something.” 

“So do we all.” 

“No,” her grip on Michiru tightened, “I want there to be something, so I can tell her how angry I am. Why wasn’t she wearing a helmet? Why was she driving it at night, in the rain? Why wasn’t she more careful? She was too old to be riding a motorcycle, and she just went out, and did it, without thinking, and I am so angry with her. I want her to know! I want her to know I will be mad at her forever!” 

Michiru laid her other hand on Rei’s. “Forever is a long time. Perhaps that is why I could never countenance the idea of heaven. But be angry now, at least. Come home with me.” 

Michiru rose to her feet, keeping hold of Rei’s hand with her strong one. 

“Why?” 

“Well, I cannot promise God, or Minako, will listen, but I can assure you that I shall. In any case, my apartment is private and well-stocked with your suitably terrible wine, and I am also happy to say nothing at all. I will not require your calm, or your acceptance, or your healing. Be hysterical. Be in fierce denial. Be wounded and enraged. Come as you are, but come with me.” 

Rei nodded and grabbed her cane, rising to her feet. 

She could see the angels now.

#Doc writes #Palentine's Day #AU of Mystery and Shadow

[nicherayy]

Yandere La Squadra x Fem! Reader OUTLAST AU

Previous chapter: chapter one

Chapter two 

TW: v*olence, blood, har*ssment, cursing

A/N: yay, chapter with Risotto

MINORS DNI

Enjoy 

Sharp headache woke you up from a forced sleep, body trembling from fear. Your limbs tied up and laying on the dirty mattress. Where were you? What part of asylum is this? Are you still sleeping? Well unlikely, this all feels pretty real to you. You tried to turn to the other side to get a better look at the room you were in. White walls smeared with dirt and.. blood? It looked like it was one of the patients wards. Only one light bulb illuminated the room, and there’s nothing but this mattress you were lying on. Is it this scary man’s ward? More than possible. Better not to think about what this crazy criminal can do to you. Obviously, he saved your live for something. Shit. You need to get out of here, whatever it takes. Just keep calm and think. You’ll think it through and you’ll get home soon. These thoughts brought tears to your eyes. You were hungry, tied up in this cursed place and you don’t even know if you’ll live another hour. There was not enough air in the lungs. You sob loudly. Body trembling more intensely. If it weren’t this ropes, you could at least hide in a dark corner, waiting for your end. But here you are, lying unable to move, pathetic. You were pathetic. You couldn’t even see anything now because of the hot tears, great, now you feel dizzy. Your heart skipped a bit as you heard heavy footsteps outside tho door. This is it. You just hoped it would be quick and painless. 

You just closed your eyes and waited. Waited for your wretched end of life. The doors opens. You were thinking about your life. Your school friends, college, your family.. Family.. You haven’t talked to your family for a few yers. And all this because of some stupid fight. You would give everything to see them again and apologise. But now it doesn’t matter. You closed your eyes even tighter, body tensed in anticipation.  Footsteps began to approach you and you feel man’s hot breathing in your ear.  

“I thought it would take you longer to wake up”, his low, slightly raspy voice scared you even more “Look at me” he said to you with slightly annoyance. You obeyed, opening your eyes. His read eyes gazing right into your soul, his simple gray clothes covered in blood. It’s hardly his blood, you’re more than sure it’s the blood of his victims. A long, nervous silence. You were afraid to say something wrong. And this man.. he wasn’t blinking. What the fuck. And why hasn’t he done anything to you yet? Will he just stare at you? Predator. A predator who just caught himself a prey. A slightly smirk on his face now.

“Risotto”, he spoke again, with pride “You’ll call me Risotto”.

..What? You opened your mouth in a perfect shaped ‘o’ in confusion.

“I’m sure you have a name too”, why would a madmen who you thought gonna kill you would ask you that question?

“Speak”, tired of waiting for an answer he began to speak more harshly.

Scared of this reaction, you can’t find anything better than answer “Y/N” you responded quietly. 

“Y/N”, he repeated your name gently, looking down at your tied up hands “I see you’re scared, don’t be. I’m going to protect you as your partner now”, he said as if it was obvious thing. What does that even mean? Your partner? Did you hear something wrong? It can’t be that this gu- Risotto doesn’t want to kill you. Are you going insane? You start to sweat from this thought. 

“You’re gorgeous, you know?”, he puts his hand on your thigh, you try to pull away from him but he starts to hold you tight “So fragile, so.. alive” now you were really terrified. Even death is better in this situation. He leaned closer to you to inhale the scent of your hair. You cringed a little. 

“I’m going to untie you, and don’t you dare to run away.. you’re  mine”, and that look again, dominating, intense look. But Risotto knows, there’s no way you’re going to escape him now. Yes. You’ll be with him, right in his arms, as his darling, as his lover. “You’ll always be mine”.

Having thrown off the ropes you feel relieved. You didn’t even notice how they rubbed against your skin, leaving bruises.

You gasped as Risotto grasped you in his arms and carried you in an unknown direction, “You must be hungry, you’ve been sleeping for a long time after all”. This part of asylum was surprisingly empty, no, there were still traces of blood, but other than that, no human or.. creature. You didn’t even notice that you entered another room, filled with canned food and water. A utility room or something. Risotto put you down, as if to show that he wasn’t afraid of your attempts to escape. After all, he was a lot faster and stronger, it will not be difficult for him to catch you. While the man was looking for something to feed you, you nervously looked around, not knowing what to do. And on the floor you saw.. a pice of paper? Your curiosity won out. You picked up a piece of paper and couldn’t believe your eyes. Risotto’s file. What is it doing here?

#la squadra di esecuzione #la squadra x reader #la squadra #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jjba fanfic #jjba x reader #jjba part 5 #jjba risotto #jjba golden wind #golden wind #risotto x reader #prosciutto x reader #melone x reader #pesci x reader #sorbet and gelato #gelato jjba #sorbet x reader #ghiaccio x reader #formaggio x reader #illustration #not safe for minors #la squadra esecuzioni #jojos bizarre adventure #illuso x reader #formaggio #ghiaccio #melone

[soleilnomoon]

5.6k words, fem reader, 18+ mdni, nsfw babey (feat. a lil choking, shameless sex, drinking, 'special' brownies, etc. cute shit.), some angst bc why not, it gets cute at the end i think; gojo is the worst, idk what else to say.

a summary (of sorts): gojo gets a little greedy and helps you unwind. hijinks ensue.

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“so, that is why i’m not talking to him,” your words jumble together, one right after the other, incomprehensible to the casual listener, but given just how in tune he is with the people he’s invested in, he understands you perfectly fine. it’s a shame, really—fushiguro toji has you caught in his despicable web, forever trapped in a constant daze where you think about him more often than necessary. there’s no point, you know that, but a small part of you thinks he’s actually fond of you. in his own way.

drinking alone is a surefire way for family and friends to assume the worst, so you decide to contact the one person you know won’t judge you: gojo satoru. 

in hindsight, this was a bad fucking idea. gojo is an untrustworthy, smooth-talking asshole that refuses to see reason; but he’s your best friend right now. sort of. you tap the bottom of your shot glass on his counter impatiently, the sound echoing in the kitchen, prompting him to look over his shoulder. he raises a delicate, pale eyebrow, his amused chuckle drawing you closer to him—although, a small voice in the back of your mind tells you to wise up, reminds you harshly to not get swept up in his charm again. you sit up straighter.

“encore!” you shout, much to his annoyance and entertainment, “fill ‘er up good.” you’re being ridiculous, but it’s the only way to distract yourself from admiring his stupidly attractive face.

he blinks slowly, your theatrics unable to sway him to your side. “i think that’s enough,” he says evenly, his own face also a little flushed from his own moderate alcohol consumption; he pours you another shot anyway.

you fix him with a sleepy glare—or you think you’re glaring anyway—and pick up from where you left off in your rant. “he doesn’t even call me back y’know that? it’s the worst, he’s so rude,” you swish the remainder of the tequila in your glass before knocking back the rest of it. the burn still aggravates your throat, but at this point you don’t really care.

gojo, on the other hand, is actually very tired of hearing you talk about toji and what the gambling, stoic assassin did or didn’t do for you. he only let you come over because you kept insisting you needed a drinking partner, and because he felt a little bad about how he set you up at his party a few weeks ago; he obliged without hesitation. he regrets it now, though, knowing full-well how high your tolerance is—and while his own tolerance is much higher than yours, he prefers to stay tipsy, wanting to keep some of his wits about him in case he somehow caves to his suppressed, unsavory urges.

while you absolutely want to drink your memories of toji away, gojo ‘the rudest man alive’ satoru cuts you off early. a groan coasts out of your mouth as you run your hands down your face. “this. is. the. WORST.”

he snickers loudly, grinning like a fool as he takes in your appearance. you’re being so dramatic, and he can’t help but want to tease you a bit for it.

“why do you keep going back to him?” it’s a question he’s been meaning to ask you for some time now. “i told you about men like him, y/n.” and he did; several times at that. the need to give you that sort of advice took over his logic out of nowhere; is it because he pitied you? no, that could hardly be the reason. is it because he can’t stand to see men like toji take things—people, really—that are of interest to him without a care in the world? 

he’s not sure and has no intention of pursuing an answer to that.

“i know,” you say after a while, voice soft and contemplative; you puff out your cheeks as a pout forms on your lips, “it still hurts.” you’re not sure if it’s actually heartache or if the rejection is so strong that it feels like you’ll never be able to breathe properly again. toji made it clear a few weeks ago that he’d ruin you for anyone else. a part of you wants to find out how true that is—an idiotic, overly curious, irrevocably masochistic part that needs to be snuffed out before it gets you into more trouble. 

but, if it is true, then you’re more fucked than you realize. and if it isn’t? well, you might be able to get away from him quicker than you think.

with a tilt of your head, you watch gojo move around the kitchen  and grab a container of brownies that you know aren’t normal baked goods. this is gojo after all. still, you take a big piece, inspect it carefully, and eat it carelessly (wanting nothing more than to feel the effects so that you won’t be tethered to such bothersome feelings anymore.) in return, he eats one in solidarity and within twenty minutes, you’re both in tears, licking chocolate off of your fingers and laughing at something so incredibly stupid that you forgot who said what. 

in the midst of the light-hearted conversation, you accidentally mention something about toji again, which only angers gojo this time—the forceful nature of the emotion takes him by surprise, he’s normally much more subdued than this. maybe it’s because he’s just had enough, or that it pisses him off how oblivious you are, but he rounds the counter and yanks you off the stool. before you’re able to even comprehend and tell him off, legs scrambling to keep up with his long strides, you find yourself pressed against the nearby wall. gojo twists your arms behind you, his large hand securely binding your wrists as his thigh parts your legs. your ass tantalizes him, a distraction that nearly makes him forget himself. despite his desire to remain focused, he also wants to see you unravel completely. 

as your breath comes out in shallow puffs, you don’t even bother fighting him—his strength severely out masters yours. you bite down on your plush, bottom lip, cheeks flushed as you try to figure out his angle.

“w-what are you doing?”

his mouth latches onto the side of your neck, his subsequent laughter finding him again as you rub your ass on his thigh. “i should ask you the same,” he drawls, voice low, stoking a small, impetuous flame within you—one that grows with every second that he has you captive like this. mouth curving into a smile, gojo’s tongue darts out to run along your skin. a shiver passes through you, and you inadvertently squeeze your legs together, wanting so badly to relieve the ache that aggressively blossoms. wild, unstoppable, unparalleled. the front of your panties are damp, your shamelessness on full display as you grind back against his thigh, the friction barely enough, desperately hoping he’ll actually take pity on you.

but just like a certain man you both know, gojo isn’t the sort to abide by societal rules or standards. he does as he pleases, uncaring if the world burns and crumbles around him.

“ah, ah,” he says, disapproving of your tactics, mercilessly removing his thigh almost immediately. you actually let out an audible groan, which only makes him laugh again. “patience is a virtue, butterfly,” he sounds so sure of himself, his audacity makes you want to scream, “and i have a feeling… you’re going to be very patient, because there’s something you want from me, isn’t there?” you don’t bother answering, instead opting to swallow back whatever petty words you mean to say, your throat becomes dry and bothersome.  

“gojo, leave me alone,” you say through clenched teeth, your mind growing fuzzy, his proximity too intoxicating for you to handle by yourself. “it’s too hot to stand this close.” even with the a/c on, you still can feel the heat from his body and it’s making you feverish. 

he absently nips at a spot on your neck, your nipples hardening, the jolt of arousal coaxing that fire to burn bigger and brighter. he only meant to tease you for a few seconds and leave you alone for the rest of the night, but he underestimated how badly he wanted to be in this exact position with you. therefore his selfishness wins out.

“you want me to leave you alone,” he starts, confidently pressing kisses down the length of your neck as he continues talking, “but you keep squeezing your thighs together. you want this so badly you’d rather lie than admit it.” it’s funny, really; you can lie all you want, but he sees right through it. his words only further the flush that’s taken permanent residence on your face. the heat from his touch is unbearable, you’re devastated at how easy it is to get you in this state; but, isn’t this what you wanted? to test out that theory of toji’s? the one where he was so sure about the results, that you’re so very inclined to prove him wrong just for the hell of it.

yes, you know, there’s something off with you, but whether it’s the tequila, or the brownies, or just gojo’s ridiculous mouth you’re trapped in place, a buzz coursing through you as you contemplate your options. running isn’t feasible, and gojo will never let you live it down.

“i have a r-request,” you try to keep your voice steady but it barely works. “stop kissing me and listen for a sec!” it’s less anger and more annoyance, mostly because his lips are distracting, they’re softer than you thought they’d be, and much too skilled. you’ll never make it out of here alive. 

he hums quietly and pries himself from your neck, opting to press his lips against your ear instead. “go on, i’m listening.” clamping down hard on your lip, you stifle whatever unnecessary noise that wants to creep out of you. his voice seeps into you, an unwanted shiver taking hold right after. he takes note of just how reactive you are to the smallest things—it strokes his ego, prompting him to act out more than he should. 

“kinda hard to talk when you have me,” you pause and press your lips together tightly, his free hand trailing around to slip underneath your shirt, “gojo…” your breathing turns shallow as his lithe fingers make their ascent, grazing the fabric of your bra. 

“i said, go on,” he insists, as if he hasn’t stolen your ability to speak coherently with the way he’s teasing you. 

“right, well,” you swallow hard, your thoughts scrambling the longer gojo’s fingers caress your skin slowly, “so, toji thinks that i won’t—” he releases his hold on you, your hands finally free, wrists a little sore; for some strange, idiotic reason, you think he’s actually going to leave you alone for the rest of the night. but, you should know better. gojo satoru doesn’t do things half-assed, especially when it means you’ll somehow be indebted to him afterwards.

“first of all,” he says sharply, turning you around, so you’re facing him once more. “toji isn’t here, is he?” this is the side of him that you try to avoid; he’s unpredictable, impetuous, and a smug bastard when he gets his way. you refuse to let things go in his favor.

but—

“no,” you say quietly, biting down on your lip as his hand coasts upward; your chest rubs against his as you both inhale, heart somehow stuck on overload mode and beating erratically enough to make you gasp. 

“secondly,” he brushes his knuckles along your jaw, goosebumps popping up along your arms as he continues, “why the hell would i ever give a damn about anything he says?” 

“i’m not saying you do, i’m ju—”

“thirdly,” his hand wraps around your neck, taking you by surprise when he squeezes experimentally; your nipples harden at the sensation, making everything much more complicated. “i’m tired of hearing you say his fucking name, it’s boring.” the last bit he says with a dark expression on his face, voice dripping with venom. “in fact, i don’t give a single iota of a fuck about fushiguro, understand?” he doubts you do, but he wants to at least make it known, so you don’t get any funny ideas about the situation you’re both in. 

as if you could.

awareness takes hold of your thoughts, reminding you bitterly that this won’t end well for either of you. in his mind, the issue isn’t whether or not this will end well—it’s more so a matter of whether or not he’ll be able to let you go after this. there’s no scenario that he’s come up with where this doesn’t snowball into something horrifically dramatic and messy; something that, if nanami were privy to the truth, might give him a heart attack. it’s a sacrifice gojo’s willing to make, one that he won’t regret, even if you hate him for the rest of your life.

not that he thinks you’ll do; on the contrary, he has a strong feeling that you could possibly never hate him. for now, anyway.

on impulse, he squeezes your neck again, the world spinning beneath your feet, making you unsteady and lightheaded—but also surprisingly very alive. you look up at him, curiosity burning through you faster than you can contain it, his blindfold still secure around his eyes, and wonder what it is that he sees. you’re not actually curious about the technical aspect of the answer, but you’re desperate to know if  he actually sees you. 

does he really know you the way he claims he does? so many have tried, failed, given up—you’re surprised you’ve kept his interest for as long as you have.

it’s easy enough for him to read your expressions; you’re entirely too honest without actually meaning to be. so when you suddenly bite your lip, when your eyelids lower—obscuring your hickory brown eyes, flecks of burnt caramel sprinkled about, turning them into miniature pieces of art—when your dark, curled eyelashes flutter as you inhale softly, he presses a kiss on the corner of your mouth, disrupting your peace, catapulting you into another dimension.

reckless. much too reckless. you turn your face slightly, catch his lips on a whim, the kiss hesitant and exploratory. his tongue makes its way into your mouth—a sneaky, curious thing that caresses yours; teasing, spiraling, mesmerizing, transforming you into a foolish puddle of mixed feelings. before you know it, gojo is tugging on your leggings, pulling them down, his long fingers grazing your hips and thighs. his touch is electric, pulverizing every single doubt you have, your pussy traitorous in the worst kind of way. 

he kisses you until you can’t breathe, somehow managing to steal the oxygen from you entirely; but what he leaves behind is a brutalizing arousal that soaks through your panties and makes you press your thighs together tightly. gojo laughs as he kisses you again, his hands roaming along your curves, memorizing the shape of your ass, relishing in how soft it is. each kiss that follows devastates you more than the last, stealing the last of your rationality; it annoys you, how much you’re enjoying this. 

it also annoys you that he’s enjoying this much more than he should be. 

gojo moves closer to you, his hard cock straining behind his pants, your hips shifting so you can rub against him senselessly. it’s not the alcohol or the brownie that has you intoxicated, it’s him. your hands work to free him from his pants, fingers shaking as you undo his button and tug on his zipper. gojo lets out an uneven breath and presses his forehead against yours. his lips part and while he’s known for being verbose, words escape him; it’s the first time he’s ever found himself unable to properly articulate himself to anyone. let alone you.

that he can’t say a thing only propels you to act out once more; your hand slips under the band of his underwear, the warmth from your skin sears him the moment you start stroking. it’s slow, at first, but when he kisses you again, his mouth demanding as it stakes a claim on yours, your pace picks up. he hates being teased, but loves to antagonize others with his own brand of play; he’s a hypocrite, he knows this better than anyone, but he doesn’t care. when your grip tightens be bites your bottom lip roughly and tells you to behave, his voice low, but firm, stirring a hunger inside of you that you desperately want to keep in check.

but the longer you stand there with him, the longer you touch one another, the longer you put off the inevitable, a crack in your control eventually forms, leaving behind an insatiable desire that cannot be ignored.

you hastily undress, tossing your shirt and bra elsewhere, and gojo follows suit—his own clothes piling together onto the floor. your cell phone vibrates loudly on the kitchen counter, violently ripping you from your gojo-induced daze. blinking slowly, you try to look around him, eyes drifting towards the kitchen, only for him to grab your face roughly.

“eyes on me,” he says, irritation coloring his voice; you can feel his gaze even more now, your cheeks flushed, embarrassment making it difficult to keep looking at him. “always keep your eyes on me.” there’s no real meaning behind his words, but they feel necessary for him to say in the moment. in the interim of your confusion, he picks you up, startling you enough that you let out a soft squeal—one that’s followed by the sound of his laughter, your surprise clearly an entertaining element in all of this.

his cock is so painfully hard that he almost can’t stand it, but the walk is short; after sitting you on top of his dining room table, he pushes your legs apart, his hands grabbing onto your thighs with the sort of reverence that has your heart leaping out of your chest. you watch him intently as he first drops a kiss onto your collarbone before making a slow descent down your chest. his mouth latches onto your nipples, sucking wildly, forcing your back to arch; your moans encourage him to keep on going—you should push him off, tell him this isn’t appropriate, but you don’t.

you’re too wrapped up in him to care about consequences.

“i think i like you like this,” he murmurs mostly to himself once his lips reach your navel, admiring the various marks he’s left behind, “i want to take my time, but…” gojo tugs your panties to the side, your wetness greeting the tips of his fingers immediately; shame eats at you, brings an unnecessary flush to your face. you try to close your legs in retaliation, not wanting gojo to see how much he’s affected you, but he gives you a mischievous smirk and wags a finger at you. “naughty. that’s not how a guest is supposed to act when they’re at someone’s home, is it?”

with a sigh, you say, “oh shut up, gojo, i am not a damn gu—”

the insertion of his finger makes you reconsider whatever it is you try to tell him; your words are replaced by your unavoidable moaning instead. the warmth of your pussy as it clenches around his finger only tells him one thing. you want him as much as he wants you. and that’s all that matters to him right now.

“you were saying?” he asks innocently, his finger sliding in and out of you easily, his pace overly familiar, as if this is the sort of thing you do with him all the time. you bite down hard on your lip, not wanting to give him any more satisfaction, but gojo’s already inserting a second finger, pumping them into your puffy pussy, fast and hard. your hips roll to meet his hand, his fingers curling, prying an embarrassingly shrill whine out of you. “i’m sorry, you need to speak up, butterfly,” he’s laughing again, loving the way your reactions are so raw and unfiltered.

“d-damn it,” you manage to let out, hating the way his fingers are just as skilled as you thought they’d be, “i can’t stand you.” your moans say otherwise; your fingers tangle into his hair as you tug selfishly.

gojo, however, doesn’t let up. if anything, he pushes you down onto the table and brings his mouth lower. “i wonder,” he says softly, almost as if he’s actually contemplating this—his words crawling along your inner thighs as he continues speaking, “if you’ll still say that after i’m done with you.” the finality of his words catches you off guard, and before you can respond, gojo brushes his lips against your clit, that electricity zapping your entire body all at once, the sensation nearly making you beg.

you don’t, though. not yet. your pride is on the line, after all.

his tongue swirls around your clit, your mind spinning helplessly out of control; the way his fingers ardently plunge into you has you saying his name repeatedly, much to your dismay. but, you can’t deny how much you want this; how much you want him. you feel everything much too much, your senses overloading faster than you realize, making it difficult to see reason. his cologne chokes you, his elegant fingers scissor mercilessly inside of your pussy, his mouth sucking your soul out while using your clit as a conduit. 

an unexpected orgasm shoots through you, has you seeing tiny bursts of light when you open your eyes, chest heaving, and does he leave you alone? no. no, of course not.

gojo plucks his fingers out, admiring the way your wetness wraps around his fingers, gliding down like sparkling drops of honey. you want to close your eyes, but find that you’re unable to; a sly smile touches his lips before he licks his fingers in the most obnoxious way—the sight of him tasting you turns you on, much to your annoyance. you’re afraid to speak, not wanting your voice to betray you the way the rest of your body has.

your panties are ruined—not that he cares. he slides it down your legs, grinning like the devious fiend he is.

“guess you won’t be needing these, back, huh?”

you sit up immediately, eyes widening. “oh, no. you are not keeping those.” what is with these men keeping your underwear? if anything, he can always buy you more—but you refused to tread down that path with him. it’s much too dangerous of an option. “where are you going?” you watch him leave the room momentarily, foolishly wondering if he would just leave you naked on his table like that. gojo pops back in after a few seconds, his cell phone in hand, his fingers tapping on the screen quickly.

“just want a keepsake for later,” he says lightly, angling his phone and snapping a few pictures of you. really, he just wants to remember this moment for as long as he can. he likes the idea of you being a mess because of him—and on his damn table? it’s much hotter than he thought it’d be; a win-win situation, really.

“you’re the worst,” you say, lower lip jutting out as you pout, “that’s so embarrassing, c’mon.” you can’t bring yourself to tell him to delete the pictures, simply because… you possibly might like the idea of him wanting to look at you like this.

he tilts his head, a curious smile prancing onto his mouth. “want me to delete them?”

your teeth sink into your bottom lip, eyes closing on their own. you shrug, opting for nonchalance in the hopes that he won’t keep bothering you about it. “do as you please.” you really shouldn’t give him that level of power over you, but at this point you’re too tired to fight over it.

gojo puts his phone down onto the table and rubs his cock in between the folds of your pussy. “are you sure about that?” he leans closer, his mouth dangerously close to your ear, a shudder imploding inside of you, making his lips quirk into a smile again. 

you place your hands over your face and inhale deeply. this man can make you feel a million things at once and still get on your fucking nerves. why does he do that? defense mechanism, probably; you’re never quite sure with him. he glides the tip of his cock against your entrance, dragging your arousal around. a small moan spills out of your mouth, hips trembling with all of his teasing. you refuse to let him win, refuse to see him so smug after barely touching you again. 

“i really want you to be sure, though,” he says while feigning concern, precum leaking down the thick head of his cock and mixing with your wetness, “it can be our little secret, if you like.” he’s so full of shit but you can’t think straight; your pussy is calling the shots now, and she’s a salacious brat that wants attention for the rest of the night.

the kind that gojo is currently giving you; but, he has a penchant for switching things up. like when he decides to spread your pussy and slide his cock into your tight cunt without warning, burying it to the hilt with a single stroke.

 “i said it’s fin—fuck.” a heat surges through him as he hears you say that; again, he’s very invested in seeing your reactions, especially with the way your pussy is clamping down hard around him, scattering his thoughts, and tossing his plans into chaos. 

you’re so angry with yourself—with how easily you let him infiltrate your defenses, proving that you’re obviously not in your right state of mind when you willingly lift your hips to meet his next thrust, his name falling off of your tongue like a secret prayer. you’re also obviously not yourself, when you greedily watch as he powers into you, hips rocking against yours in quick succession, his balls slapping against your soft ass. and you’re obviously not yourself, when you lock your legs around him, keeping him closer, breasts bouncing as he drives his cock into you harder and harder, his mouth seeking out yours.

he kisses you like this is the last time he’ll be allowed this bit of selfishness—and maybe it will be, but he knows that things never exactly work the way he wants them too. his tongue slips into your mouth, your arms wrap around his neck, skin warm and a little sweaty, the kiss a scorching parting gift. one of many, for the night. 

you’re sure this must be some vivid dream, but you can’t deny the way you’re bucking your hips against his wildly, the way your arousal overwhelms you in a way that shocks you, or the way you inadvertently clench your pussy around his thick cock when you taste his moans in your mouth. he’s usually so much more restrained, preferring to let his lovers think of him as a detached entity that wretches orgasm after orgasm from them for the pleasure of having that power over them. 

now? he’s disregarded all of that.

your cunt keeps sucking him back in, turning him stupid, foolish, and hopeful. he’s never wanted to keep fucking someone as badly as he wants to keep fucking you. it’s a terrifying reality—one he wants to leave behind as quickly as he can. but that’s not how life works, does it? it’s much more complicated and devastating than that. much more ruthless and unforgiving. he knows that, and yet—

“that’s it, butterfly,” he says in between sloppy tongue kisses, “fuck your pussy is so tight.” an understatement if he’s ever made one, he realizes belatedly. how the hell did he get wrapped up in you so fast? he moves your legs and drapes them over his shoulder, the change in position allowing him to give you quick, deep strokes, his cock reaching a place that has your toes curling and eyes rolling back. 

“oh. my. god.” it’s all you repeat, like you’re stuck on a loop that you can’t get out of. his grunts push you over the edge, the lust-filled haze wraps around you so tightly you’re not sure you’ll survive the night at this rate. “y-yes, fuck right there, right there, s-satoru.” you don’t even mean to call him by his first name—you don’t want to and yet you can’t stop. 

who are you and what has gojo done to make you this way? because the only proper explanation is that he’s somehow at fault for all of this anyway.

gojo playfully bites your leg, before pulling out prematurely.

“wh-what, what, why did you stop?” your annoyance mixes in with your desire, while your pussy clenches around nothing. you’re so damn close and he wants to play around. why is he like this?

“say please,” he insists, chuckling darkly when his cock teases your pussy all over again, “like you mean it.” 

a tear slides down your cheek, frustration coating your words when you speak. “i—” you clamp your mouth shut and reconsider before responding. “please, satoru,” you say softly, “i…i need you.” badly. you almost say that, but you have your dignity to consider. 

“well,” he says, his tone suspiciously sweet and understanding, “when you say it like that,” and he slams his cock into you again, pausing to acclimate himself to your pussy’s deadly hold. “who am i to deny you when you ask politely like that?” gojo pounds into you fervently; his thrusts are relentless, brutal, intense—but oh so good. he whispers sweet and filthy praises against your lips, your nails raking down his back as you desperately try to hold onto your sanity. it’s impossible now, not when his cock forces your pussy to make such lewd noises—ones that you unfortunately can’t hide from.

he likes it though, more than he cares to admit. so when he gives you another hot, open-mouthed kiss, you cum hard enough to have you babble incoherently at him. it’s hilarious enough that he wants to laugh, but instead he continues to pummel his cock into your aching, dripping cunt, your orgasm lasting much longer than it should from the way he’s still fucking you. it’s only when he feels his own orgasm creeping up on him that he pulls out at the last minute to cum all along your thighs and stomach.

a work of art, if he does say so himself.

panting lightly, gojo runs a hand through his hair, whistling at the impressive mess you both made on his table. you can’t believe him, but you shouldn’t be surprised; and when he pulls out his phone again, capturing your swollen lips, glassy eyes, disheveled hair, the hickeys littered along your body, and the cum on your skin. you’re beautiful and angelic, but he won’t tell you that.

not now, anyway.

“still upset with me?” he asks knowingly, his smug grin pissing you off all over again.

“shut up,” you mumble and scramble off of the table, legs shaky but determined as you find a way to stand properly. “you’re the worst.”

you can feel the way his eyes burn into you, even with your back turned. you don’t bother collecting your clothes and head straight to the bathroom, slamming the door childishly before turning the water on in the large shower. you keep the water cold enough to make you shiver; needing to dose the heat that won’t leave your body, even though you desperately need it to in order to move on from all of this. you can’t believe you let yourself get caught up, can’t believe that gojo was able to make you cum like that, but, most importantly, you can’t believe that toji was fucking right.

you hate him, hate gojo, hate your pussy, hate yourself, hate everything. life was messy enough before, and now that you’ve let gojo fuck you, you’ll never hear the end of it.

“god damn it, i’m so fucked,” you say out loud, the frigid water finally clearing whatever fog gojo had you trapped in. no amount of justification will be able to remove the guilt that lingers in your mind, but that’s something you’ll just have to deal with on another day. for now, you have to figure out how to navigate around gojo without giving yourself away. 

you shower long enough to scrub your skin raw, and by the time you finish, dry off with a fluffy towel, and step back out into the hallway, gojo’s managed to clean off the table and even collects your clothes for you. 

“you can stay over, if you want,” he says from the couch. he’s also showered and changed into some comfy joggers and a thin t-shirt. you want to tell him that you’re not staying another minute, but you also don’t mind his company; you like that despite being rough with you, he was still somewhat considerate. your conflicting feelings on gojo satoru are what cause you to hesitate, they’re what make you head to the couch, eye him curiously before perching yourself on his lap. you lightly kiss his jaw as his arm wraps around you lazily. you’re out of words for the night, not wanting to think or make any decisions just yet.

if you can just be in the moment for just a while longer, maybe you’ll feel better about it all tomorrow. gojo lets you sit like that for as long as you like, the strange urge to stay close to you taking hold of him again, making him think impossible things about you. about himself. there’s no way any of this ends well, but he won’t press the issue; for now, he’ll relish in the tranquility that nestles into him from your proximity, and you’ll pretend that your mind isn’t currently a mess.

maybe that’s all it’ll take, but you’re sure of one thing; you really, truly, did not think any of this through.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo ‘can’t stop won’t stop’ satoru #fic request #idk what to say except *washes hands of this* #y/n has zero self preservation skills as u can see; wait til toji finds out #gojo satoru smut #💋🍯— honeycomb and 808s —🍯💔 #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #jjk angst

[aleksa-sims]

RL Simself-Story (18+)

CW: addiction, drugs, violence

My family was back home. They were in Italy at my grandma’s family for a week. I think my parents ran away with my sister from all the crap that happened here. I’m sure they were afraid Ana would end up like me. And I totally agree with them!...My mom didn’t want to go first, because she didn’t want to leave me here alone.

Yesterday she called me and asked me to come by. Ana is leaving us soon and my mom wanted us all to meet again. I asked if my dad would be there? I was still very angry with him. But my mom promised me he wouldn’t argue with me or Daniel. She told me that he gave up on me. She said my dad no longer knew what was right or wrong for me. No matter what he tried to help me, it was never right! When I saw my dad that day, I was scared at first. I didn’t expect him to join us. I thought he was about to go after Daniel. But I couldn’t see any anger in his eyes. He didn’t look aggressive, rather hopeless, tired and sad. The longer he looked at me and I at him, the harder it was for him to stand there, so he turned around and left. Not only my dad was sad. Ana started to cry a bit. I could feel that my family was not doing well. 😔 At that moment, even the weather had suddenly changed and adapted to our depressive mood. As more and more dark clouds covered the sky, I also let some tears flow because I saw Ana crying. Something seemed to be wrong here and I was afraid, it had to do with me. 😢

But let’s go back to the beginning! When I arrived at my parents' house, Ana ran right up to me and hugged me as if we hadn’t seen each other for ages...BUT what’s David doing here? You know, Ana’s vampire guy! Ana never wanted to see David again since this incident!? 🤔 Hm, but my little sis met David in the meantime and they were a couple again. I always knew David was someone special for Ana, so I was happy for them. Just....David was a bit confused & shocked when he saw me with Daniel....

David (to me): Why is HE here with you? And... where is Philip?

Me: Uhmm....Ana? What’s that? Didn’t you tell him P. & I broke up?

Ana: Why should I??.... Listen, David! It’s none of your business who my sister’s dating! What’s your prob anyway?

David (to me): He’s one of those bastards who did this shit to me! 😠 I told you everything just a few weeks ago, A.!!🤷‍♂️

Daniel (to David): You nuts? 🤨 I didn’t attack you!! I don’t really know you!

Ana: What makes you think that? I was there too, as you know! And Daniel is NOT one of those fuckers who did this shit to us!

David: But I saw him and this one guy..... um 🤔 ... Dominick, talking to those drug dealers. And those were the same people I kept this damn weed for, and Daniel was involved in this shit, too. I know that from Elena, she told me!

Daniel: Dominick tried to help me get out of all this mess, so he and I talked to one of them! That doesn’t mean I attacked you! 😧 😠 Or did you see me when you were attacked?

David: I don’t remember! They hit me until I passed out, man! 😠

Me: Wait, wait! ..WAIT! 😨...Elena told me it was NOT the guys working for her stupid bf, who attacked you. And I thought these fucking guys got caught?

David: Listen, I just said, I don’t remember! But the few minutes before I passed out, I heard something. I could hardly see anything, I had so much blood in my eye. But one of them threatened me and mentioned this weed thing I did, so it can only be the motherfuckers, working for Elena’s fucker. You understand? And Daniel also worked for these people. 😠

Daniel: That’s over 9 months ago!! Since then I have never met or seen those dicks and not even before. I just know Elena! And this one guy that Dominick and I talked to, I knew that guy before. He got me into this whole thing. His name’s Oliver.

David: Yeah, I know Oliver. And you A., you shouldn’t trust Elena!!! Yeah, she helped me get out of this, but she LIES! Trust me! You know me better now than you knew her! I’m not lying to you! 😟

Me: I never claimed to trust Elena! But Daniel did nothing wrong! 

Ana: And Daniel was the only one I ever told. Without him, my sister would never have known, and you and I would never have reconciled.

Me: That’s true! Ana didn’t tell us all what happened to you two. Just Daniel and he told me something was wrong with Ana.

David: Ok, I got it!... Im sorry, man!

Daniel: Yeah, it’s ok!

Me (to Ana): You could have warned David that Daniel would come with me. 🤨 But I think your vampire guy took your mind. Huh? 😉

Ana: Yeah sorry, I didn’t think of it! ....And if you don’t stop calling him a vampire or just making one stupid twilight joke about us, then I’ll come up with something pretty awkward for Daniel & you, too! 🤷‍♀️

Me: Go ahead! 🤷‍♀️ And the Twilight jokes Philip made about him, not me! And actually I liked Twilight! 🤔

Ana: Yeah, I remember. I just didn’t get why! 🤮

Me: Well, I was 12 or 13?? I imagined myself falling in love with someone one day, like Bella did ... I was so naive to think all men were nice. 🙈 😄

Ana: Ugh, pleas don’t make me gag! 🤢 I found this whole love story terribly dull! I thought that would be a cool vampire movie. But no, just crappy shit! 😕

Me: Oh Ana, I will miss you so much! I’ll come to your college as often as I can and we’ll watch all the Twilight movies together. 😉 😄

Ana: You know what? 🥺 I would do it! As long as you are with me!

Me: 😢

Then my mom came to us and we all talked a bit. How it went on, I’ll tell next time. And this whole thing with Elena and her mysterious boyfriend is gonna get me also in trouble. 🤦‍♀️ But I didn’t trust Elena and I didn’t really believe her the last time I saw her in that one club. Just Elena will soon offer me her help because I was totally desperate and unfortunately I accepted her offer.

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#ts4 #sims 4 #sims 4 story #my rl with my simself #simself #myrlgameplay #18+ content #cw drugs #cw addiction #cw violence

[mortemoppetere]

TIMING: last night (06/12) LOCATION: a mean old lady's house PARTIES: @itzbridiebitch & @mortemoppetere SUMMARY: emilio and bridie track down the owner of the cursed necklace. it doesn't go how they might have hoped. CONTENT WARNINGS: none!

Once Teddy suggested the presence of a curse, it became painfully obvious. Of course a curse would explain the voices in his head. Emilio had been so prepared to accept his own mind failing him that he’d allowed himself to forget the way there were often other things at play… especially in a town like Wicked’s Rest.

After that, it had just been a matter of tracking down the cause. Something harder than it normally would have been, thanks to the voices in his head. He retraced his steps with a clenched jaw, trying to go back through old cases. And it was hard. It felt impossible, at moments. Did the jilted ex-husband who’d lost everything in the divorce thanks to Axis Investigations know a good spellcaster? Was the mourning mother whose son Emilio had only been able to find in pieces taking her grief out on the most convenient target she could find? Everyone was a suspect, and Emilio’s addled mind could hardly separate one from the other.

Until the news story came across his proverbial desk. Local Pawn Shop Owner Dies. He recognized the man only vaguely, but vaguely was enough. He’d made a note that the guy was squirrelly when he’d asked him about the necklace, but he’d assumed it had just been due to the shady nature of most of the items in his shop. Looking back now, he recognized it a little easier. The way his eyes darted around without settling on anything, the way his voice was an octave louder than it should have been. Of course the stupid necklace was cursed. Of course. 

So, he’d reached out to the club owner. If the shop owner was cursed, odds were that the club owner was, too. And what he’d found was hardly surprising. She was experiencing the same shit he was, and she wanted answers just as badly. 

But apparently, she wasn’t willing to trust him to find them on his own.

He glanced over at her in the seat next to him, the car ‘borrowed’ from a street corner in Worm Row. “You sure you can handle this? I’ll do the talking. You just have to stand there.” Really, she could wait in the car… but he knew what she’d say if he brought that up, and he was too tired to argue. Sleep was even harder to come by now than it usually was, and that was saying something.

—

There were six voices in her brain other than her own now. Bridie’d lost track of who was saying what after the fourth voice had joined the fray. It was a jabbering, maddening mess, and she hadn’t been able to hear herself think in so long. 

Of course it had been that stupid fucking gaudy necklace. 

A curse made sense. It certainly felt ‘curse-y’. It felt like a living hell, actually. Her nerves were shot, and shadows rimmed her usually bright eyes from a lack of sleep. 

A voice outside her head cut through the cacophony in her brain and she looked over at Emilio. As if she was going to let him square this away alone. She had scoffed at the suggestion. She’d had far too much go wrong since his little sob story about his momma’s long lost necklace. She should have smelled that bullshit a mile away. Of course, now the necklace’s curse had made both their lives waking nightmares, so he’d probably been punished enough. 

“I’m not a delicate little daisy who can’t listen to a normal conversation. I’ve had a mass murderer calling me lamb chop for I don’t even know how long now, and no one else can hear it. I think I can handle a conversation about getting a stupid curse broken.”  Bridie grumbled. “Sorry, I’m not usually this… this.” She gestured vaguely. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

_____

She didn’t look like she was faring any better than he was, which didn’t make this a very promising trip. How long could the two of them keep this up? Emilio wished he had more of a timeline on the pawn shop owner, wished he’d asked the man exactly what day the necklace had first come to him. But why would he have? He’d been wholly focused on finding the damn thing then. If he’d known it was cursed, he never would have taken the case at all.

Bridie still would be, though. So maybe she was lucky he’d taken the case, even if he wasn’t. 

“Never said you were,” he said gruffly, the response a little belated. It took a moment for him to register what she said, took a moment for him to realize that it was her speaking and not the voices in his head. You’re slipping fast, Cortez. Won’t be long now. He hoped the woman who’d hired him had some answers. If they went in and found her just as cursed as they were… Well. That’d be a bad sign. “Don’t have to apologize. Think I’ve got a good idea why you’re like this.” He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before steeling himself and opening the car door. “Let’s go, then.”

Trusting that Bridie would follow, he made his way up the long walkway and towards the impressive house stretched out in front of them. The woman had money; that had never been in question. But money wouldn’t break a curse. Emilio just hoped she’d have some idea what would. 

—-

“I know you didn’t,” she sighed, rubbing at her eyes. One of the voices decided to start screaming. The blood curdling sound rattled it’s way around the faun’s head, and she couldn’t keep the soft distressed whimper the whined out of her at bay. “Let’s hope you do, because this is a circle of hell I never wanted to be in.”

It was a big house. Bridie probably would have thought about it more if the voice wasn’t still shrieking and jabbering. It was almost as though the voices were acting out their own little lives up there in their brain. Perhaps they were tormenting one another just as much as they were tormenting her. 

They walked up to the front door, and it took all the faun’s will power to ensure her glamour stayed firmly in place. She tucked a rogue cotton-candy curl behind her ear as she reached out and pressed the doorbell once, twice, three times for good measure. She glanced over at her companion and shrugged. “Her hearing an annoying doorbell is nothing comparatively.”

_____

“Tell me about it.” The words were muttered under his breath, probably too quiet for her to hear over the shit going on in her head. Emilio probably wouldn’t have heard it himself if not for the fact that it was him who said it.

Bridie rung the doorbell and said… something. Emilio couldn’t quite register her words, but he nodded anyway. He figured they’d know as soon as the woman answered the door whether she was suffering the same curse they were or not. Emilio knew he looked haggard, and Bridie didn’t look much better. She’d been cursed longer than he had, but maybe she was better at hiding it. Or… maybe it affected hunters differently than other humans. (Was Bridie human? All Emilio could determine for certain was that she wasn’t undead.)

The door swung open and Emilio’s client stood in the entry, looking… fine. Normal, cheery, unbothered. Unsurprised. She took in the pair of houseguests with a quirk of her brow, a hint of amusement sparking in her eyes. “Ah,” she greeted, “the detective. I did wonder if you might come sniffing back around here.”

“You knew.” It wasn’t a question; it came out flat and unamused, with the barest hint of anger behind it, because how could he be anything but? This woman let him get cursed, and she did it knowingly. He was allowed to be pissed.

“Well, I didn’t know about her.” The woman glanced to Bridie. “Is she the thief? Did you break into my home?” There was an almost teasing lilt to her tone, infuriatingly pleased as if Emilio and Bridie weren’t half insane on her doorstep.

—

The homeowner (or at least Bridie assumed she was the owner) opened the door practically smirking. The faun didn’t get angry frequently. Most of the time she was too busy having a good time to bother getting angry. And if someone did something to wrong her or irk her, it was usually all too easy to make them spiral into euphoria, giving in to her desire, usually to their detriment. 

She didn’t quite hear what the woman said to Emilio, as the voices picked that time to launch into a monologue on the best ways to dispose of a body. But she did manage to gauge the look on Emilio’s face, the tone of his voice. Good. Bridie wasn’t the only one who was pissed. 

The voices shut up long enough so Bridie could hear herself slandered as a thief. “Excuse you?” she said, pushing past the woman so she now stood on the opposite side of the threshold. “This is the first time I’ve stepped foot in your house.  So I think you should be nice, and show us further inside so we can have a nice chat.” Her voice was far too sweet, and was in stark contrast to the rage that started to simmer in her eyes. “By the way, I don’t believe I heard it. Can I have your name?”

________

Bridie was offended, and Emilio couldn’t quite blame her. He liked her, he decided, far more than he had on that first meeting. Back then, she’d been an inconvenience. A person standing in his way, feet planted firmly between him and his payday. But now? She was on his side. And she wasn’t a bad person to have onside.

He followed her in as she shoved her way into the house, shuffling a little as the voices in his mind distracted him. The woman looked a little irritated at the invasion, but that infuriating smirk didn’t fall from her lips. Emilio thought he might like to remove it for her, but he couldn’t quite muster the energy to say so.

Bridie was speaking again, and Emilio tuned in to a familiar phrase. Can I have your name? Rhett had warned him about that, a thousand times. Another way fae stole from people, he’d said, another dirty trick. So Bridie was fae. It didn’t bother him the way he knew Rhett would think it should have, and as much as he might like to chalk that up to the curse, he knew it wasn’t accurate. He’d made plenty of friends who weren’t human, plenty of friends his brother wouldn’t approve of. What was one more?

The woman’s smile tightened. “Ooh, you’re one of those, are you? Never seen it on one of you before. You can’t have my name. I don’t think I have much of anything for you.” Savvy, then. Enough to know what not to do with a fae. A shame; if Bridie had gotten her name, they could have used that. Leverage, a bargaining chip, whatever you wanted to call it, it would have been nice to have. Instead, they were stuck with…

“Tell us how to undo it.” He blurted it out without meaning to, the words jumbled as they left his mouth. The woman turned back to him, smile softening again.

“Oh, you poor things. You both look terrible. I’d offer you some tea, but I don’t want to waste it. It’s not like it’ll make much of a difference, will it?” She laughed the empty, airy laugh that wealthy people so often used.

—

The tiny flame of hope in her chest guttered out at that sentence. One of those. “Those what, you’ll have to be more specific. One of those people that is in your house now? Yes I am.” Bridie said testily. “And you are the sort of person who gets off on not helping other people, apparently. I’m betting you won the guess who’s going to the retirement home contest with your family.” At least now her exhaustion had a target. 

She glanced at Emilio as his demand tumbled out. Bridie pointed at him as if to say ‘what he said,’ before rubbing at her eyes. She could almost smell the woman’s delight as the woman started talking again. Bridie couldn’t quite hear the words- not as the cacophony in her head swelled again like the world’s worst orchestra- but the all to pleased tone was accompanied with a faint scent that Bridie often latched onto as the promise of a good meal. Delight. Unfortunately, this woman’s smelled like a powdery lily fragrance that the faun associated with boring old women with horrible taste. Funny how people always reflected a bit of themselves in their emotions. 

She realized the woman had said something, and based on the stupid smug look on her face, it wasn’t good. “Can you like. Cut the shit? For five fucking minutes, you depressing old hag?” The faun grumbled under her breath. She looked at Emilio, at a loss. 

____

Even without a curse putting him on edge, Emilio had little patience for people like this. He’d never been much good at conversation and, as a result, he didn’t like beating around the bush. Whether Bridie felt similarly or the curse simply had her sharing in the sentiment today, he wasn’t sure. In any case, though, he was glad for it. He nodded as she spoke, glaring at the woman sullenly and trying to push the voices in his head aside long enough to maintain a presence in the conversation.

The woman sighed, shaking her head at the rudeness from her guests. “The necklace I sent you to retrieve was cursed, yes,” she said, addressing Emilio. Glancing back to Bridie, she added, “And I suppose you had some contact with it as well. It spreads through extended physical contact.”

“You’re not cursed,” Emilio pointed out in a low mumble. The woman smiled.

“You really are a detective, aren’t you?” She cooed, and he glared at her until she continued. “Yes, a keen observation. I’m not cursed. It was placed on the necklace by an ancestor some centuries ago. She used her blood in the ritual. Anyone of the same bloodline is immune to the effects. Call it an anti-theft system. An effective one, mind you. I suppose if the two of you are this bad off, the thief’s already gotten what was coming to them. Good riddance.”

“Stop,” Emilio ground out. “Just — Just stop talking. Tell us how to fix it.” She must have a failsafe, right? Some way of keeping people from succumbing to it? But as he smile tightened, he realized he knew what she was going to say well before she said it.

“I’m afraid I can’t fix it. Not without damaging the heirloom and, well, I did just go through an awful lot of trouble getting it back, didn’t I? It’d be a waste to let you damage it now.”

—

Bridie dead panned at the woman’s comment about her contact with the necklace. “No shit, Sherlock.” Based on Emilio’s reaction, he was probably just about as fed up with the woman’s bullshit as she was. 

A blood curse? Alarm bells clanged through the faun’s mind. Mortals and their goddamn need to play with magic. She knew enough to know that stumbling into a blood curse was bad. She was grateful when the woman was cut off by her cursed compatriot. The woman’s voice was just as painful to listen to as the myriad of voices fighting over each other in her brain. She wanted to yell at all of them to shut up shut up shut up, but then she’d have to listen to herself too. If she got out of this, she wouldn’t think a single thing and would simply relish in the silence. 

I can’t fix it.

“No you won’t fix it. You can fix it because you know how. You won’t fix it because you’re a terrible person with shitty taste in gaudy things that hurt people.” She snapped over the roar of voices in her head, every muscle in her body dreaming of nothing more than doing a happy little jig on the woman to trample her. Bridie looked at Emilio, silently pleading with the man to let her strangle the old bat. 

______

Looking to Bridie, the woman considered her for a moment before shrugging. “I suppose you’re at least partially right. I could fix it. But I’m not going to.” Her smile was wry and unamused and cruel, and Emilio wanted so badly to wipe it off her face any way he could. But where there was one curse, there could be more. Killing her might start more problems than it solved.

(And there was another reason, too. The way his own voice had joined in with the awful, awful people speaking in his head, the way it sounded like it belonged with them. He was just as bad as the rest of them, he knew. He wanted to be better.)

“You’re not very good houseguests, are you? Rude, quiet. I think it’d be better if you were off now.” Still smiling that terrible, fake smile, she waved a hand towards the door. “Go on, then. I’d say you’ve still got a few days left in you. Well…” Her eyes slid over to Emilio, whose jaw was tightly clenched. “Maybe a little less. I’d suggest making the most of them.”

Emilio swallowed, the lump in his throat making it seem a Herculean task. Reaching out, he gripped Bridie’s upper arm perhaps a little too tightly. Half a warning for her, half a lifeline for him. “There is nothing for us here.” He spoke slowly, trying to fit his tongue around the words. His accent was heavier than it usually was, all the effort he usually put into lessening it shifted just to make sure he’d be heard. This was getting them nowhere. They needed to leave so they could come up with a new plan. If this woman wouldn’t help them, they’d find another way. They had to.

—

Bridie wanted to cry. Wanted to scream. Wanted to make this woman dance until she exhausted herself, and then make her keep dancing as Bridie slowly slipped away from sanity as the curse demanded. Or until death claimed her. Whichever came first. 

A low keening noise was the only indication that she gave. She wouldn’t sob. Not in front of that miserable old bitch. And crying would be a waste of whatever time she had left. The faun flinched at the feeling of a hand on her arm. Had phantom hands come to join the phantom voices? But she saw a hand on her arm. Saw where the hand connected to a wrist, that connected to an arm, that connected to Emilio. And she let him tow her away. 

It was over. 

It was all over. 

But it couldn’t be over. It couldn’t- she was only twenty-eight! So young, with so much more to do, to celebrate, to taste, to experience, why- why should she have to slip into madness and then oblivion now-

Her thoughts joined the screaming masses inside her head. Some laughed. Some screamed. Some sang. Some whispered. She wasn’t sure which was hers. Her glamour wavered as her thoughts got lost and her focus slipped. 

But then she remembered the hand on her arm, and covered it with her own. She reinforced her glamour and gritted her teeth. “All of you, just shut the fuck up.” She hissed to the voices, who seemed surprised to be addressed at last, and gave momentary pause. She looked to Emilio once they were far away, her hand still holding tightly to the one on her arm. “Let’s get in the car. We need to talk.”

_______

There was a moment, a fraction of a second where her form seemed to shimmer. From a relatively normal looking woman to something else — curling horns, strange legs, fur. It was gone so quickly that Emilio could almost believe it had been a part of the curse… but he remembered her words inside. Can I have your name? Turning his head to the side, he pretended he hadn’t seen it just as he’d pretended not to see Teddy’s face shift when their glasses slipped down their face in their boathouse months ago, just like he pretended not to notice the way Perro loved Ren the way he only ever loved people who weren’t entirely human. He was getting good at pretending. He’d never been able to tell if that was a good thing or a bad one.

Nodding as Bridie spoke, he pulled her towards the car, half leading her and half leaning on her. He opened the passenger's side door to let her in, then moved over to the driver’s side to climb in himself. For a moment, he just sat there. He made no move to start the car, but his hands gripped the wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white with the force of it. Closing his eyes, he sighed. 

“It’s the necklace,” he said, though that was obvious. “I mean, it’s — We have to get the necklace. Break it. That’s the only thing I can think of.” If it were something simpler, the woman probably wouldn’t have been so adamantly against it. No matter how cruel she might be, she wouldn’t deny them relief if relief cost her nothing to give. Emilio had to believe that much. Opening his eyes, he turned back to Bridie. “We’re gonna need to steal it.”

—

Bridie nodded in agreement. “Steal it, burn her house to the ground in an attempt to melt it- I don’t give a fuck, it needs to go. Now. Blood curses are so bad.” Her hands opened and closed into fists as her gaze drifted back up toward the house where the one thing that could cure them both was hidden. 

“But she’s going to know that we’re coming.” She was talking quickly, as if she had to get her thoughts out before the voices interrupted her again. “I mean, look at you. Big bad detective man. Why the fuck would you take it. Just giving up doesn’t look like it’s in your vocabulary. And I think she may have caught on that I wanted nothing more than to stomp her smug face in.” 

The voices started cackling and jabbering again. “I said shut the fuck up-” She hissed again. Bridie was answered with grumbles, but another momentary reprieve. “How the fuck are we going to do this. What is the play. Because my answer is usually to try and seduce her, but there is no way in fucking hell I’m kissing that lady.”

____

He couldn’t find it in him to disagree with her sentiment; burning the woman’s house down was a tempting proposal. But… “We need to be sure it’s broken all the way. So we need to get our hands on it. Probably break it with the both of us there.” 

Bridie had a point, of course. They’d tried asking nicely, and that was going to be a point against them. She’d suspect that they would come back for the necklace. Maybe she even wanted them to. She’d certainly seemed to enjoy their misery well enough that Emilio wouldn’t have been surprised if she wanted another taste. “Yes, I think she might know you don’t like her,” he replied dryly.

She snapped at someone not present, someone in her head, and Emilio understood the urge. He’d tried the same thing a few times, but he found it brought him little relief. Maybe it worked better for her. The curse had to work differently for a fae than it did for a human, even if the human was a hunter. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried to push past the voices in his own head well enough to think. Luckily, the answer was obvious enough. “I know someone. Nora. She’s my…” He struggled to find the word, giving up with a shrug. “She works for me. She knows how to break into places. Talks about doing it a lot. She’ll help if I ask her to.”

—

“So what?” She asked, grimacing slightly as one solitary voice started wailing, pleading for its life as though it were replaying its final moments in her head. Those were the voices she hated listening to the most. Bridie shook her head again, trying to shake the voice out her ear like water. “We steal it and then like… hit it with a hammer?”

The faun snorted. “If she’s still not sure if I like her, I’d love to get my point further across.” It was a grumble, but she managed a hint of a smile. Somehow having the answer to what was wrong with her and knowing the solution brought a little bit of clarity. She wasn’t going crazy- or at least not of her own accord. This was magic, plain and simple. Just not any kind of magic she was practiced in. But magic could be undone for the most part, and that fact was something to hold on to. 

Nora. That was a nice name. One of the voices in her head picked it up and started chattering the name over and over and over- nevermind. It was not so nice after hearing it seventy times in a minute. “Where is Nora, and how much time will she need to prepare? What do you even need for breaking and entering?”

____

“Something like that. We can worry about how we’re breaking it after we have it.” One thing at a time was the only way Emilio was going to be able to get through this. Even on a good day, he wasn’t the best at planning. His ideas always tended to be spur of the moment things that didn’t much focus on the long term effects. Hunters, after all, had little reason to worry about the long term; most of them didn’t live to see thirty. He was already an unwilling exception to that rule.

Though maybe not for much longer. Not for the first time, he thought of the pawn shop owner. How long had he lasted? The newspaper article on his death had been published only a few days after Emilio saw him. Had he been towards the beginning of the curse when Emilio went to his shop, or already nearing the end? He heard Bridie talking, something about a point, but it was hard to focus. And Bridie talked a lot. Better to make sure he heard the important things and let the smaller ones slide, wasn’t it?

Like this. Questions about the plan. Belatedly, he realized he’d said Nora’s name. He probably shouldn’t have. She didn’t seem to like people knowing it. But it was a little late to take it back now, and so, so hard to control what came out of his mouth. “She’s at her place,” he mumbled, leaving out the fact that ‘her place’ was a crypt. “Don’t think she needs much time. Don’t think she needs much stuff, either. She’ll know how to do it. Just need to make sure she knows what the necklace looks like.” He rubbed at his eyes, finally starting the car and putting it into drive. “I’m going to drop you off at your club and then get with Nora. I’ll let you know when we’re doing it. We can meet at my place before.” He paused a moment, his grip on the steering wheel the only thing keeping his hands from shaking. “It’ll be soon.” It had to be. Otherwise, there’d be nothing left to save.

_____

Her mind was getting crowded again. Jabbering and cackling and talking all began clashing over one another in her mind, and she buried her face in her hands with a groan. Bridie leaned forward to rest against the dashboard. Screaming back at the voices in her head worked a bit, but she was so damn tired she didn’t know how long she could do it for. And if she had to steal a jewel, she needed as much energy as she could. 

She heard bits and pieces of the plan. Mostly she heard ‘your club,’ and ‘I’ll let you know’, and ‘meet at my place’.  She figured that was enough to piece together what was happening. The faun watched the man grip the steering wheel. She didn’t say anything, but Bridie understood. 

Bridie rarely ever sounded serious. She was too busy having a good time for that. But she placed a hand on the dashboard near the steering wheel. She didn’t touch him, since she knew they were both too ok edge for that. “Then let’s get ourselves out of this mess.” She said slowly. “And when we do, I owe you a drink for giving you a hard time over a stupid ugly necklace.”

#itzbridiebitch #bridie: cursed and furious #wickedswriting #s1 writing #season 1

[astranva]

tw (maybe idrk) quite honestly im not doing that great. i mean i wake up and i feel fine throughout the day but i always get mad at myself when i weigh myself and ive tried to bc all its doing is making me feel bad abt myself. and im always so anxious, like at this point im used to waking up and doing daily activities with a stomach ache bc of anxiety. in march i was doing so well, felt good abt myself and actually enjoyed school and then i had a fight w one of my friends which ended our friendship and their mom got involved (i have no clue why were almost adults) and started to text my mum (again idk why were not in fucking kindergarten) basically calling me a mentally deficient girl who runs away screaming like a 5 year old whenever this person came around (which i didnt) and it sent me into a massive spiral which im yet to get out of. i worry about every single thing, even school even though i finished school almost a week ago, especially abt money bc ik we dont have a lot and it doesnt make it any better that my father is so fucking poor my mum has to pay for his shit when he emotionally abused me as a kid (and sometimes now) and i feel like shit bc i cant rlly do anything abt it. i feel so bad abt myself that i hardly eat, not bc im intentionally skipping meals (i kind of am bc i feel bad abt myself but) i just always feel so sick i cant eat and normally only eat dinner bc its the one meal i eat with my mum. i used to have a therapist who helped me a lot but then she quit bs of personal shit and i know i prbly need another one but im too scared to actually ask my mum in fear she will shame me (which she wont bc im not the only one who has mental health problems) so yeah lmao this is the vent i was avoiding i feel like im dumping in this so i prbly wont send it bc i feel bad

- 🎸

anxiety sucks and the constant feeling of nausea when you wake up is one of the worst feelings, i’m so sorry.

it’s great that you know the cause behind the spiral. the fact that your friend’s mom got involved is… 😬 like why? even if time from now, you and your friend make up and get a little friendly, their mom made it awkward. her mom’s awful, i hope your mom put her in her place anyhow.

what makes you worry about school, love? like especially now that it’s over.

financial issues suck, especially when you ask for the basic needs which should be provided by your parents, but your dad (it’s always the dad lol) is just careless.

please ease your way into eating, love. they don’t have to be big meals. when i was so anxious and couldn’t eat at all, i made myself eat a toast with just honey in the morning. just that, until i could eat better, but it helps when you do it gradually.

i think your anxiety might be stopping you from seeing another therapist, but you have to, bub. it’s very important for you because it’s very tiring for you to constantly feel like that.

hey, it’s okay, thank you for venting, yeah? i see you, love 💚

[fairykitt]

loggin in

i’m so sleepy for whatever reason, i slept at idk 12 pm last night and hardly woke up at 10, it’s 4 pm now and i just can’thelp but shut my eyes off, i have an exam in two days, and i’m way underprepared, a former friend was a total douchebag to me and my other friend, former for a reason, when i tried to call her out for it she started attacking me like she is an angel from the heavens stating facts while she was turning tables into her own favor while none of her talk made any sense, what bothered me is her confidence, and the way she kept increasing her voice while aintaining an innocent look, this sort of bullshit reminds me of how awful she was back in our childhood, how imcredibly understanding i was, how distant and away from confrontation i was so i won’t get caught in her ugly bullshit, and how i saw our other friends treat her because of her stupid acts, i thought that’s it, people are cruel, inconsiderate, i don’t remember much but i remember this conclusion, i remember how alone i felt, how my observations led me to treat her like a baby so she was my good puppy, and the rest of our friends can not comprehend how can i be so patient with her, it was fear, dissociation, dehumanization i might say, she loved me and i didn’t care, i was being kind,i was giving her a hand because oh wounded bird, give her enough love and she’ll do better, as if it ever worked with my parents, shitty attitude remains always a shitty attitude, not your problem fofo, she remained a baby and i had enough, then i thought i was being cruel so i came back to pat her shoulders, come on fofo, cruel is okay, especially when you’re not a rehabilitation centre, especially when people refuse to grow nicer to you, just because everyone should be nice not because i’m nice to you goddammit, she grows more and more fucked up, and i again had enough of her constant never ending bullying to everyone and everything, her immature attitude towards, her existence now gives me fucking hives, i never knew how to handle that bullshit, and i don’t know now, and i don’t wanna know, it’s an awful game, i won’t allow her near me, i won’t conversate with her, i won’t argue with her, i won’t make plans with her. and good god if she uttered a word about our last encounter i would rip her to peaces, bitch i didn’t ask u to get anything i was politly explainaing why i wanna do this simply not to go behind ur bac, i wasn’t mean, i wasn’t rude, i didn’t keep telling u what i think about it, just like how u commented about that thing our friend suggested, i didn’t mind purchasing it bc yes i knew she wanted it anyway, but yes if i was there the minute u were deciding i would’ve said smth, so i’m also explaining why i wasn’t rude and purchased it anyway u stupid cunt, and that’s fucking valid u insane bitch, people get to have different opinions but they disagree politely without being dismissive or a fucking bully ya zbala, I disagreed politely i was never the bitch that u r, go learn some fucking manners first and then come talk to me, so yeah, my point is, she is disrespectful child and i was raised by one and it’s really difficult for me to deal with, even tho i know i’m on a solid ground, i just can’t be on their level, i would curse u that’s all, i hope u won’t get to raise kids until u learn to be a truly good person, so u won’t shatter them like my mom did, u and her should learn alot, and the hard way, because u make life incredibly hard for every fucking human being around of you and it’s just exhausting, what u r? u r dysfunctional coward fucks. what am i? i’m just tired of ur bullshit, and i will do my best not to enable your tantrums, none of this crap will get a hold of me, not my mom, not you not any manipulative asshole out there, i know you, i see you, i will let u burn in your bile of shit, i will grow out of your influnces, i will.

now umm, i’m still sleepy, my exam is still in two days, i still despise that whore, 

but what else

i’m burning this candle, it smells of heaven, i have a small yellow light on yet the light of the day is still by my window, it’s so cozy and calm, except that i’m not? or am i? exams month is the most stressful time of the year for me, a year ago i thought my right hand is paralyzed one day, the other i thought i’m dying and skipping my exam, yet i attended my exams, i skipped two bc i procrastinated my way till the second one and i skipped the third because i almost died on my second one so, my procrastination makes all the sense, but i can fight it, i did, i fought my anxiety and i didn’t hide from life, life wants livig and i lived and lived and lived, life doesn;tcare if you’re in your bed, sure u gotta rest, but make up for that time if u want to achieve a certain thing,or if u wanna achieve happiness u know, as happiness is life.

so i got every right to be so exhausted, not really happy most of the time, but i also gotta know that if i wanted to move forward and feel happy ever in my life, i gotta get moving and search for what could make happy even for a little while.

and i know i will get my rest, and i’ll go to the sea

damn that bitch is stressed about her trip to the sea because of no one but her family. maybe in another episode i’ll try to accept them, for now i just be and they just be, i”ll get my room, my kettle! won’t need to move around their awful energy, just me and my sea

[thatfuzzyfamiliarspace]

I didnt get time to write it down earlier, but im gonna try and do what he asked. 

I’ll write it down here and see if I can relay it back to him later. 

I’ve just gotta try and figure it out myself, first. He called me, after not hearing hardly anything all day I couldnt wait to talk to him and hear his voice. But he just wanted to ask me for a lift... It upset me at first. No “how are you, I’ve missed you, been busy today”, nothing. And we had plans cancelled last night and we havent set a new date to reschedule it. And now he’s got plans to go out. I’m happy he is going out with people, its just the fact that that was his priority over than plans we had. But oh well, thinking about it now its not a big deal, it was just in the moment I got abit heated over it. But yeah, I think the thing that acc upsetted me was that that was it, all he wanted to talk about over the phone was asking for a lift. Like I woulda preferred him acc talk about it? Say who’s going, who brought it up, idk just acc have a conversation. I think its coz Ive heard so little from him today, and yesterday too tbf. I’m not so meh about it now, but at the time of the call it had defo niggled at me. My mind makes me perceive things in the most worst light. It was just a question Georgia, he’s busy at work and its quicker to ask on a call than message me back, plus woulda looked rude to message me that after all the message I sent ? See it makes sense. Why can;t I think like this in the moment ?!?!? I’ve never driven to or thru walthamstow before, that’ll be interesting. I hope he gets drunk. Yes, a drunk Jordan and I can take him home !! I want him to have a good time out. 

what was I even writing about again ? Oh how I felt/feel. Well atm I’m just ill and tired. Atleast I’m super busy at work that stupid shit doesnt have time to affect me. I’ve had some fleeting thoughts.. tryna think of what so I could maybe bring it up to him later... but they have gone, thats the thing, they come and go and then theyre gone. Idk how to talk about sommin that just flashes by in my head. 

And omg yesterdayyyyy ! Like he’s asking whats wrong and its literally like someone in my head put everything in a bag and walked off with it. I had nothing to give him. And tbh I think its the way he asks? and the way he reacts? He thinks if he gets all strict he’ll get it outta me, but it shuts me off. Then he tells me to grow up, ugh I hate that. Again goes back to how he treats me. If I go nonverbal, I need a soft response. Like I have nothing in my head, therefore nothing is gonna come out??? So how is squinting at me and wording things in a mean way gonna help??? (see this is why I cant just let him read my blog, I feel like I word things in sucha mean way and I dont mean it to come across like that). 

And then that just freaked me out more coz then he brings up that his sister wants me over for dinner.... Not like its hard enough meeting her when she knows the history of everything. To then see him be around Lottie.. I’m so scared to see it. To see him treat her how I want to be treated. Him being soft and caring and playful. Like I’ll get upset and jealous and thats so messed up ?? And thats just one layer to it ! I still feel like Lottie will compare me to Georgia. She loved that kid and I know the kid loved her too, I aint that way inclined so like of course shes not gonna like me the same ? And Lottie means alot to Jordan so if we don’t get along enough or whatever that worries me. What if he sees I’m shit with kids and that turns him off of me? Its all just too much. Ik I’ll have to face it one day and meet and interact with her but I really dont want to. You;re probs overthinking it again, but am I really ? Like we know if she gets the soft cutesty attitude and treatment that it’ll be horrible to witness, aint overthinking that ? true. But maybe he isnt like that with her ? Thought of that ? But he mostly likely is.. You’ll just have to grin and bare the experience wont ya. I just dont want little me getting hurt anymore. It’s sucha fuzzy and supressed part of me now. Maybe thats why I havent been okay lately. 

Ive been feeling like I’m lacking something. I couldnt ever pin it. I always bring it back to me overthinking or being overly emotional or whatever. Like everytime I think “oh he doesnt want me as much anymore” or sommin he proves me wrong with his actions pretty soon after. But I still cant help feeling like theres sommin, idk if its missing or im not getting enough or what but idek what it is ? Am I making it up ? Well that’d be dumb, but you know you try to hurt yourself in weird ways. Youre probably convincing yourself youre not entirely happy because everything isnt tip top perfect but like ?? What is it then ? If it was real you wouldnt have to dig to find out, right ? Idk. 

I dont even feel the same as to when I started writing all this. How tf am I gonna relay this onto him later ? ooooo now I just thought about what he said yesterday, thats a wholeeeee other thing imma be thinking about now. I wanna write it down but I gotta still get shit done before end of work. maybe later 

[saffyspirals]

I’M OVER YOU (NO, THAT’S A LIE)

─────────────────────

about: every time you think you’re over him, he (unknowingly) does something to make you fall for him over again. alternative about: stuff they do to make it impossible for you to stop crushing on them.

a/n: i’m back, with my first tokyorev post of 2022! it’s been SO long, i know, and i’m sorry! lost my mojo, but i’m all good now. clearing out my inbox to start a fresh for the new year, so request away!

2nd a/n: i’m the friend who will tell you they’re over their crush, then come back hours later and explain why they have to take the previous statement back.

includes: wakasa, ran, mikey, sanzu, chifuyu, mitsuya, shinichiro, baji, hanma, takemichi, smiley, koko, inui, draken, rindou, hakkai, kazutora, takuya, akkun, angry & izana!

─────────────────────

wakasa, he — out of nOWHERE calls you cute. you hear him mutter it under his breath, then when you ask him to repeat it, he will. “said you look cuter than usual today. whatever you did, it’s working.” (it’s working? wth does that even mean?!!)

the teacher left your class to go print some papers or something, and someone starts up a class discussion about love. one of the guys asks you if you’re single, and before you can reply, ran jumps in; “nope! y/n is all mine ;)”

mikey hears rumours that you have a crush on someone else and decides to confront you. the rumours aren’t true (i mean, you just stopped liking him), of course. “i heard you like [——-]. what’s so great about him though? people like…i don’t know, me for example are way better!”

you’re walking home with sanzu, and the topic of kissing comes up. he asks if you’ve ever kissed anyone, then calls you a good girl when you tell him you haven’t.

chifuyu goes beet red when the waiter in a cafe he takes you to mistakes you for a couple and recommends you get the extra large milkshake with two straws.

mitsuya DOESN’T correct his little sisters when they start referring to you as you their future sister-in-law. he claims that it’s because his sisters are at the age where they throw tantrums if whenever they get things wrong, but…the twinkle in his eye gives you hope that there’s another reason why he didn’t correct them.

shinichiro suddenly hugs you from behind and asks; “how’s my favourite girl doing?”

when participating in a game of fuck, marry, kiss, baji completely disregards the other two girls involved in the question and says he’d only kiss, marry and fuck you. (he didn’t realise you were listening…your desk isn’t that close to his, but he was talking pretty loud).

hanma has a go at the teacher when he doesn’t put you two together in the new seating plan. he throws a tantrum like a mf child, but actually gets what he wants in the end because your teacher is tired of his noise.

takemichi overhears you complaining about having a bad hair day. “i think your hair looks really pretty though”. he says it without thinking, which gets him embarrassed when he realises what he’s just said, which makes you embarrassed about him being embarrassed—

smiley manages to steal the manga you’re reading from your hands and holds it above your head like a little shit. doesn’t give it back until you admit he’s got the cutest face ever!

you fall up the stairs in front of koko but his laugh is so cute and contagious that you can hardly feel the sting in your knees.

inui asks to share your textbook since he forgot his at home. sits waaay closer than he needs to but that doesn’t matter in the slightest since he smells so divine.

there’s a surprise pop quiz in class, and you just know you failed it. draken, the king of comforting, throws an arm around your shoulder, leans in towards your ear, and promises he probably failed too.

rindou hands you all of his pocket change when he notices you’re struggling to come up with enough coins to get your favourite snack from the vending machine. he’s given way too much, but he insists you keep it, “for the next time your stupid ass forgets to bring money and i’m not around to help.”

you feel like you’ve gotten over him just before your birthday. on the actual day, hakkai gifts you with the sweetest present ever: first, he utters actual words to you; “h-happy birthday, l/n.” second, the actual gift he gives you are a bunch of cards. on each card is a bunch of stuff he’s wanted to say all the time that you’ve been friends, but has been too shy to actually voice to you.

kazutora asks to compare hand sizes, then intertwines your fingers when you’ve put them together. “i just wanted to see what it was like to hold your hand. you don’t mind, right?”

takuya notices that you like wearing rings, and randomly decides to gift you with another. “i thought this silver one would go with the other two you usually wear. what do you think?”

you’ve come into school, hair done badly because you couldn’t be asked to do it nicely, when akkun spots you. he helps you do your hair properly before class. every so often for the rest of the day, you catch him looking at you. each time he’s caught, he goes all red and looks away! (i assume he’s admiring his handiwork!!)

one of your friends pushes you into angry. his hand skips around your waist to steady you. it’s so brief, but he just has the softest look on his face when your eyes meet. he lets you go, clears his throat, and tells you to be more careful next time.

izana pretends he’s stuck on the homework questions so that he can hear you talk. he openly admits that that’s exactly what he was doing when he’s found out too.

[here’s my masterlist ! ]

#tokyo revengers scenarios #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers #wakasa imaushi x reader #ran haitani x reader #mikey x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #matsuno chifuyu x reader #takashi mitsuya x reader #shinichiro sano x reader #baji keisuke x reader #hanma shuji x reader #takemichi hanagaki x reader #smiley x reader #kokonoi hajime x reader #seishu inui x reader #draken x reader #rindou haitani x reader #hakkai shiba x reader #kazutora hanemiya x reader #takuya yamamoto x reader #akkun x reader #angry x reader #izana kurokawa x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev imagines #tokyorev scenarios #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers imagines #x reader

[harrysgoldrush]

harry, you’re no good alone

MASTERLIST

tag list

stream as it was

he never wanted you to see how tired he was.

harry’s house was very empty, never really having needed to stay there for too long, although you’ve never seemed to care. at the end of a long day, you’d appear: a bright light with juice in one hand and basic groceries in the other.

he’s been worried lately and you’re doing your best to comfort him, even if he pretends he’s fine. that’s why you come over like clockwork, ready to socialize with your favorite neighbor in a world that’s suddenly isolated. you’re always so happy to see him and eager to hear about his exciting life while you make dinner.

harry knew he couldn’t tell you how sad he felt. how alone he was. so he’d just smile and change the subject. ask you how things are going and how much longer you’ll be here. and you hold him close for what feels like the briefest of moments and he wishes he could just fall further into your warmth and stay forever.

because you are always happy, full of energy and his best friend. and you’re leaving.

and today’s been shit. he knew it would be the moment the mailman asked him for your forwarding address. but you know harry much better than he thought and as patient as you are, you also care about him. so when he can’t meet your eyee, you stop him.

“what’s wrong?”

harry wants to tell you. maybe he’s always wanted to. but he can’t. he can’t tell you to stay. he can’t be selfish because this is something you’ve always wanted. he tells himself he can survive being left behind, even if it means not seeing you every day.

“you know i’ll call. every day. you should call me too. whenever you think of it.”

“i’d never hang up.”

“as long as the phone companies charge you, i’d be fine with that. i’d like that a lot, harry.”

you’ve earned a nod of agreement before he begins to fuss with the ingredients you’ve brought over. unsure of how else to make sure he’s okay, you settle into a mildly comfortable silence which makes your usual cooking routine impossible.

“i’ll miss your smile.”

it startles you, and this time it’s you that can’t make eye contact.

“that’s what zoom is for.” that’s not what you want to say. but how can you say it when you know it won’t change anything. “and you can always visit, i don’t plan on finding someone to replace you.”

“it’ll only be a year.”

thats the mantra he’s used to keep him moving for this long. it sounds less rehearsed than it is. but no matter how much he tells himself, he can’t forget that it’s only been the two of you for so long.

“exactly. you’ll hardly notice i’m gone.”

and just when he thinks he’s about to slip, you offer him your hand. it’s warm and gentle and the hot air balloon you both need to stop from falling. because things are changing for you and things have changed with the two of you. he found you when you were at your lowest and he was the light at the end of the tunnel. and you recognize the look in his eyes, even if you’ve tried your hardest to look on the bright side. because how could anyone fill the space he’s taken in your life.

and it’s like a sucker punch to the gut. because you haven’t really known him at all. because he has loved you as much as you’ve loved him. and now you know what you’ve done because how could you decide to leave when he’s been waiting here for you all this time?

“i would stay if you asked.”

he wants to. god he’d fall on his knees and beg you to but he can’t be selfish with you. not when you’ve done so much for him.

“i know. i don’t want to be alone.”

“two days with me and that’s the one thing you’d want most of all.” a joke is the only thing you can manage with how he’s holding your hand.

“never.”

“can you wait any longer?”

“for you? always.”

he knows he’s losing you. but you’ve given him hope, even if it might not last. you both hope it will. this time you’re generous with your time, your arms wrap around him and for the first time, his house feels like home.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blog #harry styles imagine #friends to lovers #harry edward styles #harry styles blurb #harry #romance #tpwk #harry styles fic #romance novels #harry styles tpwk #styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #as it was #harry’s house