#there’s so much more but I’ll shut up now teehee

[catiuskaa]

you asked me to stay. [Not yet].

PAIRING! idol!bangchan x reader

SUMMARY: even if idols 'don’t date fans', there are no rules against a little bit of teasing, and so it happens that Mr Bang Chan here really likes your kind of thinking.

WC: 4.1k

CW: starts off fluffy, then angsty if you squint?, but develops into a (short but still) spicy NSFW. lol, the triangle of (fan)fiction! not gonna say anything else cause I don’t want to spoil it, teehee. Have fun! (I did!)

REQUESTED! here by my sweet 'n spicy baby @sharonxdevi, hope you like my take on it! <3

A/N: wanted to pop down here as a reminder that just because the setting is a fan meeting and yada yada, this work is still unrelated to Channie as an idol. now, please keep reading! I really like how this one turned out 🤭

[♦️☆🔒☆♦️]

He's so sweet.

You kept giggling and blushing like an idiot, but how couldn't you? The Christopher Bang was right before you, smiling and laughing at the lame jokes you blabbered as a blush surely creeped out, your face a deep shade of a pinkish tone.

“Oh, and I wanted to mention that you look so amazing in your performances! You have me addicted, Chan.” You giggled.

He chuckled, blushing lightly, raising a hand to his mouth, half covering it. “Really?”

You could melt at the sight of him.

“Yeah! I’ve watched all your fancams.” You nodded with enthusiasm.

His laughs turned louder, his ears red. “I feel so shy knowing someone as pretty as you watches me dance so much.”

…

You blinked, your eyes wide.

As what?

He cheeked his tongue, eyeing at you sheepishly.

Oh. So he knew what he was doing.

You smirked softly. Your change in attitude made him raise his eyebrows slightly.

“One minute.”

You eyed at the suited man that came to talk to Chan and smiled. He left back to his position, and you leaned closer to the idol.

“Just have to say, that tongue of yours?” You chuckled, and to him, it was one fo the most enticing sounds he had heard in a while. “Keep it in your mouth if you don’t want STAY to act up.”

There was a bubbly feeling in your stomach that only heightened when you watched his face displaying raw surprise.

You were about to combust in spontaneous fire because, well, you just flirted with an idol, a real famous one, that is, but then, he smirked, leaning even closer to you. You could feel his breath on the shell of your ear. His hand softly took yours, and your breath hitched as he snickered playfuly, making you feel a shiver travel down your spine.

“I’m thinking there are far more interesting places where I could keep it.” He grinned in a teasing tone, staring at your lips for a second, licking his own. “But I’m obedient. I’ll keep my mouth shut if you say so.” He stated lowly, his eyes locked on yours. …

Oh.

OH.

MY GOD.

He squeezed your hand, sitting back again. His face was covered by a shade of red, and he couldn’t exactly place what had taken over him.

For a moment, he bit his lip, wary of your reaction, considering you hadn’t so much as muttered anything, frozen in your place.

But then you chuckled, struggling to grasp what had just happened, and his whole body relaxed when you squeezed his hand too.

“Bet. You won’t.” You snickered, standing up, siren eyes staring down at him as you moved away, allowing the next person’s turn.

He winked at you as you left.

W-What had just happened?

Your mind felt fuzzy.

Had Bang Chan just done the triangle method on you?

Chan stared at your back before facing the person in front of him.

He could’ve sworn he had seen you before.

[♦️☆🔒☆♦️]

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

Chan grimaced at Hyunjin, sinking his head back on the pillow in his hotel room.

“Leave him alone, Jinnie.” Yongbok frowned slightly. “But I have to say. Not the smartest move, mate.”

Chan sighed in frustration. “I know, I know.”

And it was because he knew that he didn’t dare to say, but just thinking about you, he also knew for a fact that he wouldn’t hesitate on doing it again. Had he had the opportunity, maybe even more.

But idols don’t do that.

Because it is for a reason that idols don’t date fans. Marketing? 100%. Sure. But it also protected them from scandals and such. Or that’s what Chan liked to say to himself.

Felix felt a bit guilty. Chan had gotten scolded by almost all the members now, some who went more ballistic than others —like Hyunjin, who still was fuming, claiming that if Chan was going to do something forbidden, he could’ve said something better than that—, but he looked at the fellow Australian and stood up, laying his small hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder.

The taller one stopped his rambling against Chan and his alleged lack of creativity regarding flirting, and his eyes softened, looking at Yongbok.

“Give the man a break.” Felix smiled softly. “He understands what he’s done. He’s a big boy. Right, Channie?”

The big boy lazily raised his hand from the bed, not moving his head from the pillow as he hummed and raised his thumb.

“This bitch—” Hyunjin started, threatening to throw a pillow at the older one, but Felix quickly pushed him away, taking him back to their room.

Finally alone after what seemed like a lifetime, Chan turned around, staring at the ceiling.

He covered his face with his hands.

Reckless. Stupid, reckless idiot.

It had to be past twelve when he got tired of waiting for sleep to get to him. That never happened anyways. So he stood up with a groan, yawning out of boredom, quickly fetching a jacket and heading to the elevators with slow steps.

He got in and slowly started to put on his beanie and his mask, which wouldn’t really make a difference if someone recognized him, still, it gave him some reassurance. But then, the elevator stopped barely two floors after he got in.

His whole body tensed up.

He recognized who stepped in, messy hair, funny slippers and padded jacket on.

He knew who that was, because he had been right.

He had seen you before.

“Oh.” You smiled, and he could tell by the small wrinkles in your eyes, because the bottom half of your face was hidden by the jacket’s high neck. “Good night.” You mumbled softly.

He nodded. He was afraid you’d recognize him. He was unsure of what to do himself —or if he should do anything—, he couldn’t even think of how you would react. And just the idea that you wouldn’t like seeing him there made him hide his face more in his dark mask, so instead, he fidgeted with his room card, not daring to look at you for too long.

“Trouble sleeping?” You pondered in a kind tone. He nodded again, and you smiled. He had to hold back the impulse of lowering your jacket just so he could see your bright features, the ones that had charmed him so much barely a couple of hours ago.

“Same here.” You muttered, and he could’ve sworn that your voice alone, warm and soothing, could singlehandedly lull him to sleep in a heartbeat. “Walking helps though, don’t you think?”

He, again, just managed to nod. But for some reason, your presence didn’t make him feel guilty for not talking. In the middle of the night nothing seemed to have any rules between you two and the four walls of the elevator.

“Sorry, am I bothering you?” You asked in a murmur.

It was the first time he shook his head no, vigorously so, and you blushed lightly, smiling.

“Good to know.” You grinned, chuckling softly. The elevator dinged, arriving to the last floor. Chan held back a frustrated groan, yearning to keep hearing your voice.

“Have a good night.” You smiled, but his hand softly took yours.

“Huh?” You muttered softly.

Chan struggled. Fuck, shit, fuck. He had done that completely out of reflex. He didn’t know what to say, and just scrathed the side of his face, staring at your linked hands.

He shook his head once more, asking you to stay.

To you, you already had the weird feeling that you knew him. But he touched your hand, and something from it felt shockingly familiar.

Now, you could’ve sworn you had seen him before.

“What is it?” You asked, your voice coated in something sweet, something that Chan suddenly wanted to taste. “Would you like to walk with me?”

He nodded eagerly. And you grinned sheepishly.

You two crossed through the hotel main’s hall nonchalantly, and Chan just followed you, intriegued that you hadn’t taken the main entrance door to exit.

“Trust me,” you muttered, smiling. He felt it was scary that he would, in a heartbeat. “The gardens are so much better.”

You took his hand. A motion completely out of reflex, that both of you only allowed yourselves to yearn for in silence.

You grinned at him, turning around, and his breath hitched, lips parted beneath his mask when he realized how close you were.

You opened a black door to your right with a soft push of your body.

The hotel gardens at night were like a dream. The moonlight turned everything into a soft, magical scene. Tall trees swayed quietly, and you could hear crickets and leaves rustling. There was a small lake below it, its water calm, that reflected the image above it like a mirror, moon and stars glistening on the clear surface.

Even if Chan was only looking at the glow through your eyes.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You grinned.

You stared back at him. Something in his eyes reminded you of someone you knew. A peculiar someone, that is.

He hummed in agreement, and your smile widened.

“Shall we?” You giggled in a murmur, letting him step outside before you.

There was a warmth in the night that ushered Chan to take off his mask and hat.

But he didn’t dare to. Not yet.

You two walked alongside, hands and knuckles brushing against each other, and the idol allowed himself to grin as you smiled, looking at the flowers that decorated the place. It was the first time in his life that he had found solace in the shared silence of insomnia.

With a swift motion, he surrendered. He felt like it wasn’t fair to know who you where if you didn’t —or couldn’t— recognize him. To hell with it, he thought, taking his hat and mask off.

But, much to his surprise, you didn’t so much as glance at him. You just snickered when he sighed, sounding happier, breathing in the sudden cold breeze that swooshed in the garden.

“Better, huh?” You mumbled in light amusement.

He smiled, shoving his hidden identity in his pockets.

“Much.” Chan muttered.

His heart beat loudly on his ears. He could feel it pulsating rapidly, waiting for the moment where you would turn to face him.

But you weren’t, just strolling down the stone path, callously ignoring his nervous demeanour.

He was about to stop and move you, but instead, your hand took his again.

And then you squeezed it lightly. Much like he had done a couple of hourse ago.

His breath hitched. He stopped walking.

“Chan?” You smiled.

He felt chaos unravel inside him, his cheeks blushing, his palms getting sweaty, and his heart giddily beating in his chest.

Another rush of soft air crossed through the hotel’s gardens, making your hair move with it. He could smell your light scent, something that felt warm inside him, something that he felt could lull him asleep.

You grinned.

“Hi.”

He chuckled lowly. He hadn’t let go of your hand. A part of him didn’t want to. Not yet.

“Hi.”

He saw you blush under the moonlight, not knowing his red-tinted cheeks were more obvious than yours.

“What’s a boy as pretty as you doing in a place like this?”

…

He blinked, his eyes wide.

As what?

He saw you cheek your tongue, doe eyes looking at him teasingly.

Oh. So you knew what you were doing.

He chuckled, thinking that was going to be all your teasing.

“Judging by how long it took for you to talk, I guess you did mean to keep your end of the deal.”

“Huh?” He inquired softly.

“You know.” You bit your lip and blushed a bit more, making him more interested, taking a step towards you without realizing. “Keeping your mouth shut. Like the obedient boy you are.”

He started breathing heavily, a low laugh rolling off his tone.

“Oh, yeah?” His smirk was only powered by yours. “I must say, I can be quite rebellious.”

“Really?” You snickered, feeling his hand squeeze yours again.

“Very.” He gulped. His bravado only lasted for so much, and deep inside, he was equally scared as curious.

He wanted to keep going. He wanted you to stay.

“Are you trying to prove it?” You mocked cheekily.

He stared at your lips, his breath felt heavy. “Would you like me to prove it?”

His hand threatened to reach for your cheek, but it was you who finally held it and moved it towards your face.

“Bet.” You giggled. “You won’t.”

The night air was crisp as your eyes, deep and expressive, locked with his, inviting and enticing, a secret to be held in them. His hair, often styled with flair, rested curly and messy, but you couldn’t help but get lost in the untamed beauty that he portrayed. Not even his lips gently grazing yours could wipe either of your smiles under the moonlight.

And then, for a moment, it wasn’t gentle.

Maybe it was because he sighed against your lips, or maybe it was because you followed an impulse and bit his lower lip, but then it got twisted. Tongues danced with one another, fighting for dominance in a burst of sudden passion.

“C-chan,” you gulped, arms traveling to his nape, playing with his hair. It made him weak.

“Chris,” he sighed, yearning to taste your lips again. And again. He didn’t want to stop. Not yet. “Call me— call me Chris.”

You chuckled. “Only if you call me…”

You were going to tease him, but your ideas suddenly flew away form your mind when he started peppering kisses on your neck, grazing your skin with his teeth.

“What?” He snickered. “A pet name of sorts?” He was teasing you, and he was so enjoying it, tasting the weirdly sweet and enticing flavour of your skin in his lips. “Would you like that, princess?” God, he needed more.

You bit your lip, holding back sounds behind heavy breaths, and he patted your thighs, making you jump into his arms without hesitation. Quickly, he moved the both of you, pinning you against the wall closest to you.

“C-chan…” He bit your skin slightly harder. “Chris! Ah, Chris…!”

“F-fuck…” He muttered. “I… I can’t…” He leaned his head in the crook of your neck, now covered in small and red lovebites. “You smell so good.”

You pecked his forehead, trying to catch your breath, your hands stroking his soft hair.

“Not here, right?” You smiled, soothing, comprehensive. His heart softened.

He nodded, sighting against your neck. He let go of your legs, allowing you to stand back on your feet tenderly.

“I’m sorry….?” Chan mumbled shyly. You giggled, brushing it off.

You were about to say something, but then the gravel cracked under someone’s weight. One that wasn’t either of you.

He tensed up under your arms.

You sighed. “Move!” You ushered in a whisper.

He frowned, his eyes darting from you and from where the sound had come from.

“But you—”

“Chan!” You pushed him away, hiding him behind another wall, and quickly took your phone from the pocket of your jacket, zipping back up what Chris had lowered.

“Who’s in there?”

Chan’s breath haltered.

You had hid him just a wall more, meaning that if the security guard found any of you, chances were that he wouldn’t be caught. You would.

You both held your breathing, hands interlinked even if your bodies were as far away as they could to do so, your heartbeats quickening in sync.

And then, it was just silence for a minute, the gravel cracked below the security guard’s feet, and he left as sudden as he had arrived.

You legs felt like jelly, and you let your back fall down the wall, ending up sitting on the floor with a huff.

“You were going to get in trouble.” Chris muttered.

You looked at him from the floor. The moonlight highlightened his lean figure and charismatic features.

You nodded. “It wouldn’t be me who’d get in the worst of it.” You smiled softly.

He nodded with you.

“We should go before it gets too late.”

Just before heading back together to the elevators, you looked to the reception, and grinned softly.

The elevator back up felt more silent than usual. And for some reason that could speak and make him blush, Chan missed the sound of your voice.

“Good night, Chris.”

It wasn’t going to be a good night.

Not after that interruption, which not only scared the shit out of him, but also made him rethink everything he was doing with you.

Chan arrived back to his room. After half an hour of mindlessly staring at the nightsky through the window, someone knocked on the door.

Could it be you? Chris blushed at the thought.

He opened the door to find nothing. Then, he looked to the floor, and found a mug of hot chocolate and a small note.

may have taken a peek to your room card before. i had fun tonight! see you tomorrow? xoxo, your princess.

He grinned.

Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad night after all.

[♦️☆🔓☆♦️]

When he woke up the morning after, his mouth still tasted like chocolate.

There had been nothing that could wipe the silly grin on his face that day. Not his packed schedule, not the knowledge that they had to go back home and it would be his last night there, not the fact that Han had come into his room just to look for his missing sock —which, for obvious reasons, he never found there—, not the fact that Hyunjin was still bitter with him because of what he had named the ‘pretty girl disaster’ —which Chan intended to tell you just to see if you’d laugh like he had imagined.

His mind was filled to the brim with thoughts of you.

Your flavoured chapstick, your sweet scent, the way you mumbled his name —his real one, that is—, how your eyes glowed under the moonlight, how his hands fit perfectly in the curves of your waist.

He sighed happily for the upteenth time that day, coming out of the shower.

But then, Minho came in to his room.

“Hyung.” He started, and his low tone didn’t seem to bring good news.

Chan nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“I know I’m not really good at these things, but I think you should see this.”

The dancer handed him the phone, and Chan turned pale.

It was a picture taken from last night. Chan’s silhouette was fairly obvious, slightly pixelated and hidden by his beanie and his mask. And right in front of him, back facing the camera, was you, your hand holding his.

“So it is you. That’s what I thought,” Minho mumbled. “A random number sent it to Hyunjin. He saved the picture and blocked it, but we thought you should know.”

“Did they know it was me?” Chan stuttered.

The cat owner shook his head, and Chan was able to breathe normally again. “They thought it had been me with Jisung.”

It was there when Chan’s daydreaming faltered.

His thoughts started spinning, not knowing how or where to start.

Would you know about this?

What would you do?

“Hyung.” Minho sighed. “We’re leaving tomorrow.”

And Chan hadn’t been able to grasp that, but someone did.

The same someone who knocked on his door at night.

“Guys, you have your own cards.” Chan muttered, opening the door.

But it hadn’t been any of the guys.

“Hi.” You let out in a sight, panting.

Had you ran your way there?

“Hi.” He mumbled weakly.

“Can I…?” He opened the door for you, and quickly closed it back. He turned his back to you, his eyes wide and his heart going crazy.

“Chris.” You mumbled.

He turned around to face you.

“You asked me to stay last night and I went with you to the gardens.” You huffed. “But I want to stay here with you tonight.”

He blinked, passing a hand through his wavy hair. You were there. In front of him. Speaking. God, he had to concentrate.

“We’ll make a deal.” You breathed slowly, staring deeply into his eyes, yearning to know the secrets hidden behind them. “I’ll leave this here.”

You gently plopped your phone on the table near the door to his room. He was still standing there, as if frozen, pyjama pants on and only a bathrobe covering his lean and toned chest.

“A pretty man called Hyunjin came to me talking about some picture,” you started softly. “But yesterday didn’t happen so I’d ruin a man’s career.” His eyes followed how you raised your hands and smiled, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“It’s off.” Your voice lowered, and he got slightly closer, as if wanting to hear you better. “The phone, I mean. Feel free to check it.”

Surprisingly, he just stared at it, then smiled cheekily, heading towards you.

Your eyebrows shot up and you felt deliciously small under his new-formed grin, and how his hands cradled your face.

He pecked your lips with a yearning sigh.

“I missed you.”

You blushed.

“You can have me all night.” Your smile made him feel butterflies on his stomach. “Just me and you.”

He kissed you again, longer this time.

His frame slowly caged you against the door, and he broke the kiss, stroking your cheeks. His body was pressed up against yours, his lips parted as he breathed softly, taking you in. He could feel heat running down his body just by the feeling of you back in his arms, and the only thought that he had clear is that he couldn't hold back anymore.

He needed to kiss you, again, and again, and again. He needed to figure out what you tasted like. He needed to have you. Your hands had gone back to where they had been the night before, and the way you stared at his lips threatened to make him fall to his knees.

His eyes were glued on your lips, and not long after, his mouth followed.

Chris’ heart was pounding against his chest, and he knew for a fact that he had never felt this way before. Never in his whole life. The more he tasted your lips, the kiss almost as passionate as your first one, the more you ruined him, claiming him as yours, making him addictied to the way you sighed and grinned as he moved your bodies to the bed, the hotter his body became.

He fell with you on the matress, and much to his surprise, you moved your bodies, sitting on his lap, taking a groan out of him.

“Such a beauty,” you mumbled, almost to yourself rather than him. “All for me, huh?” You smirked.

The whole world was hazy, the only thing that was clear was your body and your words. Just hearing your voice saying those words to him made him shiver, a shiver that he never experienced before.

He smirked too, and sighed when you untied his bathrobe, your hands roaming freely wherever you wanted to, stroking his chest, claiming him with kisses, the soft colour that they left behind, pink due to your lipstick, and the soft scratches of your nails, that made him bite his lip to keep his sounds hidden.

“Nuh-uh.” You tutted at him with a smile.

He snickered. “Oh, princess. Two can play that game.”

His hands pinned you down against the bed, his lips quickly going back to yours.

“You said I needed to keep my tongue to myself, and I promised that I would” He grinned, almost menacingly, lowering himself, trailing kisses down your body, discarding your underwear.

“I intend to break that promise.”

Maybe you and him would be difficult.

But he had asked you to stay, and you did. And he didn’t want to stop trying. Not yet.

[♦️☆🔒☆♦️]

~Kats, who did most of this in a hospital bed (‘m okay now dw) but fell asleep and didn’t publish it, lol. I LOVED THIS IDEA POOKIE TYSM !!

#stray kids x reader #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #bang chan headcanons #bangchan x reader #bangchan smut #bangchan fluff #bang chan x reader #stray kids bangchan #bang chan smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz scenarios #soft hours #skz hard thoughts #bang chan #skz hard hours #hard thoughts #chris bang #skz chris #chan x reader #skz bang chan #bang chan soft thoughts #straykids bang chan #stray kids smut

[ma1dita]

its 2am and im delirious im so sorry but

jealous! (and maybe clingy!)luke x apollo!reader when he sees the same couple of campers constantly coming to you for medical attention over small scratches or feigned illnesses just to get your attention..and reader is just so kind to everyone they’d never refuse to treat anybody no matter how minor the injury, but it drives luke a little mad teehee 🤭

🐥 also happy (late) birthday jo!!

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

luke castellan x gn!apollo!reader

a/n: i will never get tired of bf!luke.

wc: 947

“Be with you in a second, sweet boy!”

Your hands were fiddling with gauze as you brush past Luke sitting on the only empty bed left in the infirmary. And you weren’t even talking to him! Your words were directed to his half-sibling and with all the others waiting for you, it was obvious that you weren’t leaving your shift anytime soon despite his plans for your date night.

“Doc, what about me? I feel sick too,” he mutters into your neck, big hands pulling at your waist and playing with the smock tied around your frame.

“What’s the matter, my love?” You coo, brushing back his mop of hair and looking into his honey sweet eyes. He grins and it’s a bit boyish and quite sinister, all Luke with a definite trick up his sleeve. 

“My heart hurts…. because I pulled a few strings to have dinner with you at the lake and we’re not there right now,” he sighs, hot breath tickling your earlobe, “And I need you to fix me up too.” Cheeky asshole.

You bite your lip and slowly pull yourself away from his embrace, not without kissing the corner of his mouth before the fluttery feeling is weighed down by the reminder of your responsibilities at the sound of a scream from across the infirmary.

The room was filled with campers of all ages vying for your attention and waiting for your gentle hands to tend to everything from a scraped knee to a rising fever (though if you ask Luke, he’s so sure he saw Bradley from cabin 9 standing over the forge in the armory trying to break a sweat earlier).

It was sickening. Someone ought to tell these campers to get in line. Connor Stoll almost skips–excuse me, limps, (now that you’re watching him again) towards Luke with a shit-eating grin at his moody disposition at the fact that he has to fight for your attention.

“Beat it, loser.”

“Baby! Don’t be mean or I’ll ask you to leave. Get up, Connie needs to get his knee wrapped,” you say with a furrow in your brow. Your eyes dart around the room wondering where the rest of your siblings have gone to help you heal these campers, but unlike you, they’ve already clocked out for the day. It’s a wonder how many kids at Camp Half-Blood get brutalized, maimed, or both on the daily, but it’s all in a day’s work of being a child of Apollo.

“Yeah, move it bighead!”

Luke grumbles, rising to his feet and shoving Connor a bit harder than what’s brotherly, so much so that the preteen falls face first into the cot. (Luke thought it was dumb that the kid was acting like a baby since the idiot scraped his knee jumping off the roof of the dining pavilion because Travis and Chris dared him to.)

“OWWW!” he groans, and before you can react, Bradley’s asking for another cold towel and little Lila from cabin 4 starts crying about her sun poisoning from being out in the strawberry field—your shaking hands and wide eyes let Luke know you’re at your limit so he ushers you behind a curtain for examinations.

“Honestly, you’re overworked babe. Take a break,” he says sternly, but softens as you look up at him with a pout and a whole lot of love. He smooths your hair down and hands you a glass of water.

“Just need to see the rest of the patients for the day and send them on their way. I don’t want anyone to be hurt,” you mumble through sips, leaning against the wall and shutting your eyes. To Luke, it sounded like the quicker you get through this the more time he spends with you— and so he moves so quickly that you barely process what he’s doing until you hear various complaints from campers (who are annoyed that their new nurse isn’t as pretty as you and dons a fierce glare and curls that hang over his forehead like a dark cloud).

Nurse Luke models after what he’s seen you do here countless times, but in a way that’s very much his own. He gives out ambrosia and nectar, cleans up booboos where needed, tells Bradley to fuck off and take a cold shower, tapes Connor’s mouth shut, and awkwardly jokes to a kid from cabin 6 that he probably shouldn’t be the one doing stitches or he’ll get a scar that looks like the one running down his cheek. They agree to wait until later, holding bloody gauze to their chin.

By the time you’ve calmed yourself down, you pull back the curtain to see an eerily quiet infirmary (and you’re not sure if they’ve been threatened into silence) but everyone is bandaged, fed and watered—to the best of Luke’s ability. It brings up a sunny smile on your face that reminds him of the first rays of morning light which is a view he never gets tired of, and you finally throw in the towel when Leo and little Will come in for the evening shift. 

A resounding sigh is heard from the infirmary’s patients as you leave with your boyfriend, to which you don’t think much of as you look at Luke like he’s the answer to all of your problems. He kisses you in the doorway like its a cure, whispering sweet nothings and promises of a nice dinner at the lake even if it’s pitch black outside now.

It also serves to those damn kids as a reminder that he’s the one who gets to fuss over you and though he doesn’t like starting fights, boy, does he love ending them, in his own little way.

#jo's 23rd birthday bash ⋆｡°✩ #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fluff #percy jackon and the olympians #made by ma1dita ♥︎ #for my gn babies (づ ◕‿◕ )づ

[apclyptc]

i’ll never tell you

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

he’d never tell you. he couldn’t, he shouldn’t, and he knew that. so instead he’d try his best to hide it. his infatuation for you.

of course, chris’ brothers knew him well enough to see how obvious it was that he was obsessed with you. what they didn’t know, was just how desperate he was for you.

which was why he was currently in his room, in low lights so he couldn’t be seen, tugging at his dick with thoughts of you.

oh, how good he could make you feel. pushing thick fingers inside you, making you squirm, teasing you. giving soft kitten licks to your throbbing clit until you begged for more. chris thumbed the weeping tip of his dick, just imagining all the sounds he could coax out of you.

he swore he could hear you, even though you were only with him in his thoughts.

“chris, please,” you would cry, “please go faster.” and he would give in to you every time, eventually replacing his fingers with his hard cock, ploughing into you as fast and as hard as you’d want.

“fuck, y/n.” he moaned breathily in the silence of his room, stroking harder. your hands on his dick would look so small. he bet you couldn’t even fit a whole hand around him. chris wondered how you’d please him; would you be shy, as you pumped your hands up and down?

or, god, would you tease him just like he would to you? go slow just to torture him, make him beg for something, anything, before staring him down as you suckled on his tip? he just knows that’s what you’d do, licking a stripe up his cock, taking his balls in your mouth and messily stroking him until he released his load into that filthy mouth.

“take it all, fuck, come on baby, take it.” chris panted, feeling his balls swell, on the edge of his orgasm.

most of all, chris would give anything to feel your tight, wet cunt around him. clenching and gushing when he hit that sweet spot. you’d writhe and moan, desperate for him to let you cum, choking on your words, drool gathering on your chin because you couldn’t help but leave your mouth wide open when he thrusted into you again and again.

“oh, i’m gonna cum. gonna cum, y/n, gonna cum inside you-” chris groaned into nothingness, screwing his eyes shut as his cum coated his hand.

in shame, chris grabbed a towel and cleaned himself up. there went another night of him coming alone to the mere thought of you. he’d never tell you though.

maybe he didn’t need to, not since you were stood behind the door, listening with a hand underneath your pants. it’s okay. you were never going to tell him anyway.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

a/n wow. i surprised myself with this ngl. i be like y/n rn 😂😂😂😂😂😂

anyway, i have a REALLY good idea for a story. it’s both matt AND chris, and no it’s not a threesome. devil emoji. i won’t explain too much bc i don’t want to give away too much but there will be separate part 2s for matt and chris to go with this story. teehee! gonna start writing it now actually.

hope you enjoyed!

© APCYLPTC 2023. do not repost, translate, or duplicate any of my works here or any other websites.

#chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo oneshot #chris sturniolo smut

[silvermarley]

You should do what happened after the “watching a spicy scene in a movie with them” post TEEHEE SMUT💖🔥🔥🔥

I was just thinking about it 🛐

Watching a movie w/ a spicy scene (Part 2)

Warnings: smut (but mostly drabbles for them), this will be a lot 😭, switch Genya-, dom!Sanemi,Kyo,and Uzui, no protection (not advising this for irl), rough sex (Sanemi, kinda in Tengen’s), degradation (Sanemi and Tengens)

A/N: Part 1; also, I’m alive! Just busy.

Genya Shinazugawa:

“Y/N.. did you plan t-this..?” He asked, stuttering.

You shrug teasingly knowing damn well you did. He goes silent for a bit, unsure of what he should do.

You weren’t unaffected by the movie’s content, but you wanted to mess with him to see what he will do. Eventually, you feel him pull at your shirt.

“Baby please..you’re teasin’ me too much..” he says as he pulls you on his lap, laying his head on your shoulder to avoid eye contact.

You give in, as you’re desperate now yourself. You begin to grind your hips onto him making him groan.

He grabs at your shorts, to which you stop rolling your hips and lift yourself to let him take it off along with your panties. After, you pull down his pants and boxers, watching as his cock sprung out.

You took off your shirt and he took off his, but as soon as you went to unclasp your bra, he pulled you back onto him.

“Sorry.. I just can’t wait any more..” he mumbles.

You chuckled a bit at his impatience, and kissed his lips. He lined up with your entrance and waited for you to sink onto him.

You happily moved to slowly slide down his cock. You and him collectively let out a satisfied groan when he bottomed out.

His face is a bright red, with his hands nervously gripping onto your ass.

Once you felt like you were adjusted, you started to bounce up and down on him.

He threw his head back, “Fuck..”

You moaned at how good it felt. His grip on your ass tightened as he guided you up and down. You set a steady pace that made the two of you get louder with time.

He needed more.

Genya wraps his arms around your waist and fucks up into you, making you fall forward and and grasp his shoulders to ground yourself.

“Shit baby! Making me feel so good..” he rambles as he pistons up into you.

You felt the heat in your stomach grow more prominent.

“Ah- gonna cum!” You whine.

“Me too.. Where can I- fuck!” He doesn’t finish his sentence as his mind gets cloudy.

“Inside! I’m on the pill. Just- please..” you moaned.

Hearing you say that, and the fact that you were squeezing him so tight sent him over the edge. You followed him, as you two chase your highs.

You don’t move off of him. You cuddle against him and you two enjoy the moment and warmth together.

Sanemi Shinazugawa:

He would occasionally shift around uncomfortably, you as well. But the both of you sat through the rest of the movie, which felt like forever.

His hands would occasionally move to tease you.

The moment the credits were rolling, he was picking you up and hastily walking to your shared room.

He dropped you on the bed and quickly hovered over you. 

His lips met yours. He bit your bottom lip to gain access to your mouth, deepening the kiss once he got it. At the same time, he was pulling off your clothes beginning with your shirt and then your shorts.

He breaks the kiss to bite and suck at your neck. You hummed in pleasure.

Once he thinks you’ve been properly marked up, he takes off his own clothing. You blushed at just how hard he was.

“Like what you see? This is what will make you scream for me all night.” He smirked as he undid your bra and ripped off your panties.

“Babe-“ you were cut off by him.

“Shut up. I’ll get you another pair.”

He grinds his cock onto your cunt, hitting your clit. You moaned at the feeling of it.

“So wet.. you needed me to fuck you this badly?”

You nodded, wanting nothing more than for him to do just that.

He groaned at the confession. “Good.. I almost couldn’t wait to ruin you.”

In one thrust, he pushed his cock all the way into you. You gasped at the force of it.

“So tight..” he groans, only giving you a moment to adjust.

He wildly thrusted in and out of you, making you scream in the best way.

“That’s it.. let the world know who’s making you feel good.” His words only made you tighten on him.

He put his hands under your knees and pushed your legs to your chest, making him go even deeper. You scratched his back and moaned louder at the feeling.

Your orgasm was quickly approaching, due to the overwhelming stimulation. With you tightening around him so much, he wasn’t far behind you.

A few more bucks of his hips and you were creaming on his cock. He grunted and thrusted one last time, as deep as he could, and came inside you.

You felt him pull out of you, so you put your legs down and calmed down from your high. You closed your eyes and sighed.

Then, you open your eyes to see him still looking over you, smirking mischievously.

“What, did you think I was done with you?”

Kyojuro Rengoku:

He tried to keep his composure and finish the movie. Key word: Tried.

“My love.. I’m afraid I can’t wait any longer. I need you now.” He says, turning and pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

You melted into the kiss. Just from the passion he was putting into it, you could tell that he was just as desperate.

Without breaking it, he gently pushed you down onto the couch and slotted himself between your thighs. You could feel the heat from his erection through his slacks.

After a few minutes, he pulled back breathlessly. Kyojuro tugged down the shorts you had on, along with your panties.

Seeing your slick pussy made him groan. He lowered himself to face it and gave it an experimental lick. The moan you let out made his cock twitch. It was better than any movie he’s even seen.

He licked and sucked at your sopping cunt, savoring the unique flavor. He loved the taste of it on his tongue.

Even if it took all the willpower in him to restrain himself from fucking you right now, he is a man who doesn’t skip foreplay. He wants you to be nice and ready for him.

In the middle of him eating you out, he inserts two fingers in you. Not only was your taste making his head spin, but the feeling of you tightening around his fingers too.

You came with a high pitched whine, and he guided you though it. Once he licked you clean, he moves back up. You were still trying to control your breathing when you heard him taking off his belt and then his pants.

He didn’t bother removing his shirt before he was on you again.

“You ready?” He asked, to which you nodded.

He hums before slowly pushing into you. He growled at how warm and welcoming your cunt felt. You could tell he was going to wait for you to get used to it, but you couldn’t wait anymore.

“Kyo.. please. Don’t hold back..” You begged, hoping he’ll get the hint.

And he did. The restraint he was showing was gone, and he thrusted in and out of you.

His thrusts were fast and deep, hitting your cervix with ease. You could do nothing but moan at how good it felt.

The sloppy but calculated movements had you cumming faster than you thought. He slows down a bit, but once you were no longer twitching, he continued his pace from before.

“Taking me so well love.. just a little longer.” He praises.

Rengoku feels himself getting close, so he uses his thumb to rub circles on your clit in tune with his thrusts.

You felt yourself come to the brink once more.

“With me.. cum with me..” he groans.

After a few more sloppy thrusts, you two came together. As you two caught your breath, Kyojuro couldn’t help but chuckle, collapsing onto you.

“Well.. this is an outcome i wasn’t expecting.”

You laugh along with him, hugging him. “Yeah..”

Uzui Tengen:

When the movie ended, his lips were on yours in an instant.

Something about how lewd the things on screen gave him more confidence than usual.

As your kiss got more heated, Tengen was pulling your pants down and throwing them to the side. He parts from you, after noticing how wet you were through your panties.

“Naughty girl.. were you thinking of us when watching the movie baby?” He teased, knowing full well that he’s the one who wanted to recreate the scene the second it came on.

You bit your lip in embarrassment. He just smirked, lifting your shirt up and over your head.

“You really are a dirty girl..” He murmurs in response to seeing you already braless under your shirt. His rough hands felt up your exposed skin, as he left hickeys down your neck and chest.

Though, he couldn’t ignore his aching cock, which was begging to be released.

“Get on your hands and knees, pretty girl.”

You do just as your told, turning to put your forearms on the armrest, arching your back a bit. He hummed in satisfaction. Without hesitation, he rips off your panties.

You weren’t even going to fuss at him for it, since your mind was only focused on him being inside you. He grabs at your plush ass, and gives it a smack.

You weren’t sure when he took off his own clothing. But, you felt him gliding his cock on your cunt, using your slick as makeshift lube.

He pushed into you, groaning at your tightness. It wasn’t too difficult to bottom out, since you were already wet.

Tengen gave you a little time, before he began fucking you. He was hitting all the right spots, making you whine.

He hovered over you, and his grip on your hips was hard, which will likely leave a mark later.

“Shit.. you feel so good baby..” he whispered.

It was a lot. He was giving you all you wanted and more.

You were making him feel good, but he wanted to see how good he was making you feel. So, he wrapped an arm around you to pull your back against his chest.

After adjusting the position, he continued to piston up into you, hitting deeper than before.

“Fuck! S-So deep!” You gasp.

He smirked again, feeling you get close. And you came with a loud moan, clawing into the couch. Tengen guided you through it, but didn’t stop. You writhed from overstimulation.

“Shh.. I still need to fill you up, don’t I? You can give me one more..” he cooed.

His unrelenting thrusts had you getting close again in no time. You felt him twitching inside you, bringing you closer to cumming again.

You head was thrown back onto his shoulder in pleasure. And soon enough, you two came together.

He gently moved his arm from around your chest, but didn’t pull out. You looked back at him in curiosity.

He had a smile on his face, and his cock twitched back to life at the thought of filling you up again.

“Round two..?”

——

Taglist: @obanai-iguros-doll @booplsnoot @wicked-binch @zonaasworld @k-cock

#lovely anons :) #kny smut #demon slayer smut #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #uzui smut #Sanemi smut #Rengoku smut #Genya smut #Genya x reader #hashira x reader

[modelbus]

I’m obsessed with the way u write Tommy, the witty dialogue is so >>>> lately I’ve been fixated on the drunk MCC video so if you’d like to write a oneshot based on that it would be super appreciated! Reader probably takes beky’s spot so they’re on the same team, and the more drunk they get the more affectionate and distracted they get and the chat is just eating it up teehee

I actually had to hunt down the video because I haven’t seen it… for anyone curious the video is called “Minecraft But I’m Drunk”!

Pairing: Cc!Tommyinnit x Gn!Reader

Flirting Fools

“IM JUST KEN, WHEN I SEE LOVE I SEE YOUR BALLS—“

The cider you were drinking—same one that Tommy had stocked up on—ends up on your monitor rather than down your throat. Whose idea was it to do a drunk MCC again? Oh, yeah, Tommy fucking Innit.

“Why can’t you say hello like a normal person?” You sigh, wondering if Tommy even has his headphones on.

“Y’know, I want to watch the woman movie but my girlfriend insists I see it with her and I haven’t had the chance.” Jack says, speaking up.

“Oh, Jack, you have a girlfriend?” Tommy asks.

“Acting like you aren’t dating someone too.” You say pointedly, giving a deadpan look to your camera.

“Because you’re amazing! The El-Oh-Em-El! Love of my life!”

“Never spell an acronym out loud again.” You plead.

“What’s an acronym?”

Tubbo’s laugh in the background seems more like a cry of help.

-

“We’re dropping like Fortnite!” Jack exclaims just as the floor vanishes from under you and everyone is out into elytra mode.

“Shit wait we’re playing Fortnite? We playing Fortnite?” Tommy immediately hops on the joke, and you mentally tune him out.

“I love Fortnite!” Jack agrees eagerly. Twenty seconds later, he dies. “I fucking hate Fortnite!”

“I died too.” You inform him, picking up the can of alcoholic cider to take a drink.

“WAIT!” Tommy screeches. “Cheers! Cheers with me!”

You raise your drink to your camera, assuming Tommy is doing the same in his office. Afterward, Tommy slurps his drink far too close to his mic.

“I’m gonna vomit.” Tubbo declares.

“Don’t back down and give up, that’s some shit Kenergy.”

-

“Guys, I just bought myself a pack of ‘Colon the Caterpillar’ and if we win MCC I’ll open them.” Tommy’s voice announces during the loading between games. Do you know what that means? No. Do you want some? Fuck yes.

“Share. Share? Share?” You ask, taking another sip of your drink.

“Come over babygirl.” Tommy answers you. For a second, there’s a complete pause in the call. “…I’m going to kill myself.”

“What the FUCK?” Jack shouts.

“Tom, Tom— never say that again.” Tubbo pleads, are you’re inclined to agree.

“Maybe just… keep your mouth shut.” You advise Tommy.

-

“Oh, Jesus, it’s harder to stream when the— when.” Tommy says, quite eloquently.

“Ah, yes, I when the when all the time with you.” You agree.

“We are when the when-ers.”

“Can you two shut up?” Jack asks.

-

You grit your teeth, groaning when a player kills you, picking up your drink again. Slowly but surely, you’re getting drunker and drunker. So much for not having a hangover tomorrow.

“We’ve literally gotta get this dub guys or I don’t get my sweets.” Tommy reminds everyone. “Why is talking like fuckin’ on extreme difficulty?”

“Is it?” You ask idly, taking another drink just for fun.

“Worse than when I’m kissin’ you and shit.” He confirms.

“Stop making Tubbo and I the third wheel.” Jack pleads.

You grin, laughing. “Nah.”

-

“Listen to me now! Look me in the eyes!” Tubbo says, his character moving to stand directly in front of Tommy’s. “You’re my best friend okay and we’ll get you through this.”

“Tom, Tommy, Toms, listen to me.” You giggle, moving to stand next to Tubbo. “You are my boyfriend. And I will not get you through this.”

“Okay, fuck, well I gotta listen to you. Sorry Tubbo.”

“Oh.”

-

“I’m gonna get the coins in the middle!” After his declaration, Tommy sprints to the middle platform and starts mining away at the yellow coin block.

“Jesus fuck, At least wait!” You sigh, shooting a random person.

“Wha— how are you getting them?” Jack agains, laughing wildly. “How is that working?”

“Cause I’ve got backup! My backup’s the best!” Tommy responds, turning in circles.

“You know I’ve always got your back.” You answer.

“Cause you’re cool like that. You got the moves like Jagger.”

“That I do, Tom Simons. That I do.”

-

“Y’know what? It makes me quiet.” Tommy gives no context, leaving you on your own to puzzle out that he’s talking about being drunk.

“Huh? We literally got plastered that one time and you wouldn’t shut up.” You disagree.

“Well, yeah, ‘cause it was you.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Means I like talking to you, bitch.”

“And you don’t like talking to me?” Jack asks. “Oh, yeah, I see how it is.”

“I got priorities man!” Tommy defends himself.

“Priorities being…?” You question, giggling.

“You.”

-

“I’ve got to say, I think there’s a huge lack of focus on the team.” Jack says, coughing pointedly.

“I think I’ve got to agree with you Jack.” Tubbo hums.

“Yeah, and it ain’t us Tubbo.”

“The fuck you saying about me and my boyfriend?” You ask, splash potion of harming in your hand. “You wanna fucking repeat that?”

“No no no no— you guys are great! Teen love— TUBBO RUN—“

-

“Tommyinnit meet and greet on the rocks outside the pier in Brighton at 1am?” Tommy asks. “Any muggers don’t go there though.”

“I’ll go with. Mug both of us.” You offer.

“Yeah, we team that shit. Power of love right there.”

“Love lets people get mugged together?” Jack laughs.

“Not all love Jack.” Tommy corrects.

“Just ours.” You agree with Tommy. “Our love is special, Jack.”

“Oh, it’s certainly something.”

-

Sands of Time has you immediately frowning at the screen and taking another drink. It’s such a shit game, it deserves to be drank to.

“I went to the bathroom guys and I was just like oh by the way…”

There’s a second where you, Tubbo, and Jack wait for Tommy to finish his sentence. He doesn’t.

“‘Oh by the way’ what?” Jack finally asks.

“Oh— oh, I just stopped.” Tommy laughs. Cackles, more like.

“Oh by the way I’m coming over to your place after?” You ask him.

“Really? We can watch that new movie you’ve been wanting to see, if you want.” He doesn’t even blink at the subject change.

“Works for me. Might be a bit before I sober enough to not get murdered in the streets though.”

“I’ll just come get you, love.”

“You’re drunker than me.”

“I’ll scare everyone off with my many muscles.”

“Do you even have one?” Tubbo asks. “One muscle?”

“Many manly muscles.” Tommy doubles-down.

“I’ll just walk.” You sigh.

-

“Guys stop calling me ‘daddy Tommy’ I’m clearly a twink.”

“Tom?” You ask.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up, please.”

“Whatever you say!”

-

<Tommyinnit> Tubbo kisses his cousins

“I do not!” Tubbo exclaims, outrage painting his voice.

“I’ve seen Tubbo bare-lipsing his cousins.” Jack argues immediately.

“Have you?” You ask Jack.

“I’d kiss you even if you were my cousin.” Tommy says to you. “That’s how much I love you.”

“You’d what?”

“No, cause it’s my love.”

“Tom, man, I think it’s time for you to be done.” Jack says wisely.

“Well, no, cause what’s wrong with what I said?”

“So many things. So so many things.”

-

When you blink your eyes open the next morning, everything is hazy and painful. A throbbing headache makes you immediately close your eyes against the bright sunlight of morning, only for you to try again a few moments later.

There's a weight thrown across your middle; upon further inspection, it's Tommy's arm. Heavy and warm, and also keeping you trapped next to him.

"Tom." You groan, knowing that you need some water and Aspirin. He probably does too, considering he definitely drank more than you. "Tom, please."

He mumbles something, barely relenting his grip on you. It's just enough so that you can stretch across the bed to grab your phone from the charger. There's a few messages from friends checking up on you and Tommy (including a shit ton from Wilbur that you're just going to... ignore...) but you swipe open social media.

Only to immediately close it when you realize that you and Tommy are trending for what happened during MCC last night. Although it could very well also have been from the photo Tommy posted of you two kissing, to be fair.

"Stop moving." Tommy groans, pressing his face into your shoulder.

"We need Aspirin and water." You tell him. "And we're trending on Twitter."

"No." His hold on you tightens. "Five more minutes."

You know damn well five minutes will be ten, then thirty, then two hours, but you relent either way.

"Five more minutes."

#dsmp #mcyt #mcyt imagine #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit #tommyinnit imagine #tommy innit #tommy mcyt #tom simons

[kookieswan]

Red Light - Tea and Crumpets

Nightmare!Hoseok x Psychologist!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Genre: Horror AU, Monster AU, Psychological horror, kind of angsty? A little fluff? Idk?

Warnings: Jimin. Talk of biting off appendages, blood, bad language, all the good stuff. It should be noted that this story will contain themes of horror/psychological horror and also explore obsessive behaviors and codependency. Many characters are morally gray. Please be warned!

Summary: Gearing up for your second session with Jimin, things seem to be going surprisingly well until a surprise visitor arrives.

Notes: WOOOOO more Jimin finally (and another character teehee). This takes place a few days after Dripping Clouds!

This Part 28 of the Red Light series. Find the Masterlist here ♥️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jimin, it’s good to see you again. I’ve been informed that there’s been a number of happenings since we last met?” Walking into the room, you plop down with as much elegance as you can muster into the chair that sits in front of Jimin’s cell. He’s curled around himself, eyes in slits as he pokes his tongue out to wet his lips.

“Nothing you need to worry yourself with Doctor. Just a few minor inconveniences that came about. Blame those bastards if you’d like.” Jutting his chin out, you turn in the chair to see two guards peering in. Raising a brow, you gesture for them to shut it without a word, glare intensifying when they don’t make much of a move

There’s a sudden violent slam, causing you to flinch as the guards finally getting into gear. Turning back towards the reptilian Nightmare, you see that his tail has stretched out, now smooshed up against the wall. Well… At least they’re gone. Giving Jimin a small smile, you dig into things as carefully as you can, pulling out the incident report folder Williams not so gently shoved into your hands.

“Let’s see here… You bit someone’s finger off, managed to break some of the most expensive equipment that’s kept down here, called Dr. Williams a ‘piss baby’…?” It takes everything in you not to lose your mind, your lips making an odd shape as you cough to hide the laugh. You really wish you could have been there to hear it.

“All very fucking warranted considering the situation I think. But hey, what do I know? I’m just a man kept in a cage.” Sighing a sympathetic sigh, you adjust your papers and pen, knowing that he’s right. They’re all right honestly; being kept against their will is a horrid thing. They’re not humans, but they’re sentient. They’re people, and they deserve better.

“Although I cannot personally connect to it, I understand where your anger is coming from Jimin. I’ve been sent in today mostly to reprimand you, but that’s not what I’d like to focus on. If you cooperate, that would make both of our lives a lot easier.” You think he gets that though; he’s already been a lot more docile than he’s been in the past. Jimin shrugs his shoulders with a sigh, inching forward a bit until he’s relatively close to the wall. You write down that you gave him a thorough talking to even though you certainly did not.

It’s quiet as you jot down some more quick notes, a moment of time you take to look the Nightmare over again passively. He’s definitely the least human looking in appearance with his tail, not even wearing a top, just going completely bare. You wonder if it’s odd to think that his scales look almost pretty in the light.

“Well? Ask whatever you want to ask Doctor. I’ll answer the best I can.” This makes your raise a brow. Not only is he being relatively docile but he’s also letting you do what you wish. A curious thing, but it leads you to believe even more now that your initial meeting was more of a front. That, or he was just extremely pissed off.

Jimin raises his hands up, tongue poking out yet again to wet his lips…? Or perhaps to smell the air. Twirling you pen, you wait for him to reply. He smirks a little as he speaks, though there’s a bit of caution on his voice.

“Don’t look so shocked. I’ve heard some things along with what you’ve personally told me. I don’t want to be on your bad side, and it’s not like I can leave.” So maybe he knows of your relationship with Hoseok? As far at you know though, he’s had every little interaction with any of the other Nightmares. You hum a little, tugging on your skirt as you ponder his words.

“I already know why you’re causing an uproar; it’s because you’re angry. Angry that you were stolen away from your life and locked in a cage. So, instead of exploring that, I’d like to look into your background.” It’s something you haven’t asked the others yet, but you wish to ask them all. Starting out with Jimin might be the best way to tackle that he stares for a minute before giving in, a bit of a hiss in his words.

“There’s not much to say. I was a wanderer, never really settled down anywhere after my life began. I had no ties I guess is what I’m saying… So plucking me up out of a back alley in New York was easy for those fucks.” New York? Quite a large city, an odd place to be if he were to look like he does now. It’s likely he took on a more natural form, but then again…

“I killed from time to time, never caused a fucking massacre though. I still have no idea how they found me out; I blended in pretty damn well when I wanted to.” You don’t know how they found out either. You don’t know how they go about capturing Nightmares, but they’ve got to have some sly way because they’ve managed to capture the others and they’re certainly not dumb. Deciding against leaving a paper trail, you store away the information.

“So you chose to try to integrate yourself into the human population? For at least some of the time?” He had to of blended in somehow. Nightmares can take on grotesque forms but many chose to blend in to get closer to their prey. Jimin tilts his head back, looking toward the ceiling.

“Yeah. I liked to go out, liked to party and have fun. I liked to get high, liked to find a good fuck. I liked it all, and now it’s been taken away from me so I can be ‘researched’ and tested on.” So he was just living his life like any other young person. It makes you frown; Jimin is the newest patient here, sure, but you also think he’s the youngest out of the group. Perhaps you’re wrong but he can’t have many years on him, not with this mindset.

“… Have they hurt you at all?” Jimin looks far away at first before focusing back in. He slowly shakes his head, and a sigh of relief leaves you. If any of your Nightmares get taken down there, it’ll be the day you turn into a Nightmare.

“No. Even if I’ve been having some issues, I’ve been trying to be a good egg. Sometimes there’s yelling from the guards but that’s about it. They don’t like when I spit in their faces.” You’d imagine not since his spit seems to be acidic. There wasn’t a mention of him burning anyone’s face off in the report though thankfully.

“You don’t mind having a room to yourself? From what you’ve said, I would guess you like company. I don’t want for you to feel completely isolated or lonely.” At this Jimin scoffs, tail whipping out behind him. He can scoff all he wants but something tells you that he craves more, that he really craved attention… Perhaps that’s why he acts out. Down here though, it’s not going to get the best response.

“I like the company of my choosing. I’m not sure the other Nightmares and I would get along. I can be a little brash as I’m sure you’ve noticed.” You’ve already made a mental note to keep him and Yoongi separated. The other three would likely be alright with him, but his anger mixed with Yoongi’s ruthlessness… No thank you.

Before you can continue on, there’s a knock on the door. Turning, you see none other than Taehyung Kim popping his head through the entrance, bright boxy smile on his face as he spots you. You can hear… a sob..? From outside the door before Dr. Kim slams it shut behind him.

“I hope you don’t mind Dr. _____, I wanted to sit in and observe one of your sessions. Well, that’s a lie. Williams wanted to but I told him to bugger off in much nicer words.” You don’t doubt he did. If there’s anything you’ve learned about his man, it’s that he doesn’t care about consequences. Mostly because you don’t think he faces any. Gesturing for him to come in further, you shake your head.

“Not at all Dr. Kim. I’m sure Jimin doesn’t mind either?” Glancing at the Nightmare, he’s not even looking at you. His eyes are trained on the other doctor, slowly looking up and down as if sizing him up. Interesting.

“As long as you don’t try to cut my fucking tail off or something, you can stay. Too many of those other douche fucks like to get handsy.” Taehyung shakes his head, thankfully not interested in cutting any tails off. Looking down at your mostly blank notes, you decide to change things up for now. The past is something that can be revisited another day when Dr. Kim isn’t present.

“Now, is there anything you’d like to talk about specifically? Anything troubling you?” You’re curious to see what happens if you give him complete free reign of the situation. Especially now that you have an audience, and an apparently relatively powerful one at that. Jimin looks back toward you finally, eyes narrowed.

“You’re the only psychologist down here? There aren’t any others?” You’re sure there are others, just none that you’ve met. You’ve only had the terrible displeasure of meeting all the other doctors and scientists on this floor.

“I’m the only one on this floor specifically. I don’t see to any other Nightmares, only the ones on level 13.” You don’t see it but you’re not sure if you could handle more. Five seems to be the magic number, one for every day of the week to focus on. Jimin just nods, eyes sliding back to where Dr. Kim stands next to you.

“What about you?” The man adjusts his glasses before walking closer to the clear wall. So close that they’re face to face, Jimin staring in what almost looks like disbelief. You still don’t know exactly what Taehyung’s position is down here but it’s obvious that he’s very comfortable with Nightmares.

“I see to all the floors technically, though I usually stay in the deeper levels but I became bored. As I’m sure you can guess, I’m not from here originally, but I craved change. So here I am.” Bored… It’s not that shocking. If you were to guess based on what little you’ve analyzed, Dr. Kim isn’t used to being told no. Instead, he used to free reign and being able to do what he wishes without question. Jimin snorts loudly, hand slamming up against the wall, clawed fingers scratching the material.

“That’s why you came here from tea and crumpet land? Wanted a change in scenery? Wanted to rule over this shitshow?” Well, they seem to be making fast friends. Jimin’s mood is quickly turning sour, and you know the rest of this session will be going no where but south. Oh well, you got to know a little bit more about him at least.

“Tea and crumpet land hasn’t been home in a while. Let’s say I’m up here for number of reasons; a new doctor and a new patient being a few of them. Color me surprised when I heard we got ourselves a competent psychologist and a pretty pet snake.” Avoiding the question is one way to go about things. You can’t help but to wonder too, most of the other Doctors seem to be from the states although you know there’s other facilities scattered. Jimin hisses loudly, face nearly smashed up against the wall as he spits his words out.

“I don’t think pet snakes usually have terribly homicidal thoughts about their owners.” Dr. Kim hums, raising his hand up to meet Jimin’s. The Nightmare stares back in a mixture of anger and confusion, quickly ripping his hand away and backing up from the wall.

“But apparently small little Nightmares do… I’ve decided that I like you very much. Try not to misbehave Jimin, I don’t want to be seeing you on the deeper floors.” With that, the doctor turns around and looks your way. You stare back at him, not really sure of what to make of the interaction. It was odd… And also revealed a lot about both men.

“Dr. _____, when you’re done I’d like to have a word with you. Nothing extreme, just a few things I’d like to discuss. Pip pip cheerio for now.” An overwhelming urge to laugh is back, this one a single strangled giggle as Taehyung exits the room. Looking back to Jimin, it’s apparent he won’t be giving you any more information today.

“Well… if there’s nothing else, then I’ll-“ The snake man cuts you off, voice not nearly as angry as you though it would be. On the contrary, he sounds almost… Delighted? Happy?

“I want him at our next session.” And then it clicks. He craves attention even if it’s not positive. Maybe Taehyung’s attention wasn’t positive but it’s got to have been better from what he’s been getting. Giving him a nod, you can only begin to imagine the bargaining you might have to go through with the eccentric doctor. The things you do for your patients…

“Consider it done.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags: @parkdatjimin @sugarflywme @pamzn @mizz-kraziii @hiii-priestess @winkii @noonas-magicshop @xuxibelle @lookhere-2seok @m1sss1mp @jukoo @thickemadame

(If you’d like to be tagged, send an ask/comment. All I ask is that your age (18+) is somewhere on your blog! 🌸)

#red light ♥️ #hoseok x you #hoseok x reader #hoseok x y/n #hoseok fluff #hoseok angst #bts x you #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts angst #bts fluff #bts horror au

[wayliparker-co]

OKAY SO. I live in europe so i’m seeing this chapter on saturday morning (😔✊) SO I DIDN’T READ IT YET BUT I DID SEE THE PLAYLIST (god here i go with my playlist ramblings again someone shut me up) BUT BUT THE SWITCHUP FROM THE 😔😔😔 SONGS TO THE ✨🕺😁 SONGS IS SO INSANE WHATTTTT WOWW anyway i dont know if its on purpose or not but most of these are from the heartstopper s2 soundtrack (shoutout to the heartstopper soundtrack for shaping me and my entire music taste back in 2021 🫡) but now i dont know what to expect from this chapterrrr 😀😀 whAT ANYWAY here i go reading 🏃‍♀️💨 i’ll update while i read the chapter for more incoherent noises

Currently mourning the loss of Mike’s Intricate Midieval Castle 😔✊ and probably also Will’s Cute Little Cottage :(

ANDD THERE IT ISSSS MY DEAR CHILDREN this is probably a fake dating trope (as someone who lovessss fake dating tropes: my senses are tingling)

I WAS RIGHT 🫵 I WAS CORRECT ‼️ Mr. ‘Fake Date Me.’ HE’S SO SILLY

In conclusion nothing can go wrong this is a Foolproof Mike Wheeler Plan and this will not cause ANY drama whatsoever 😌 (they’re so screwed.)

HELLOOOOO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO ANSWER !! ok please never shut up about the playlist bc parker and i have worked SO hard and have pondered and considered and discussed SO much to decide on songs 🙃 we’re very glad that you love it as much as we do!! the heartstopper s2 vibes are definitely intentional as that playlist has shaped my music taste as well…teehee!!!

RIP MIKES CASTLE AND WILLS COTTAGE they were in the same little village btw. if u even care.

TEEHEE he is the silliest ‼️ nothing can go wrong ‼️ why would anything go wrong ‼️

#(this is what we call foreshadowing everyone) #SO GLAD YOU LIKED CH02!!! 🥳 #can’t wait to see you all next week for a surprise 🥳 #asks #ch02

[degenrcy]

only i can hurt you (chapter one)

direct ao3 link! i realized i never posted this here but im getting a lot of attention from my last one sooooooooooooo yeah lol

you and shigaraki have a lot in common, thank god the 2 most miserable people are together.

warnings: very abusive relationship, eating disorders, mutual mutilation (self harm teehee) enabling

you curled up at the top of the bed, watching the tv so hard you were starting to make out the lines and the rgb of whatever lame show you were watching. it was quite late, shigaraki clicking away at his keyboard. his game was on its last hour of comp, and you didn't give a fuck about your rank anymore. shigaraki would always be better than you.

"there's no point." you muttered, pulling out your phone for the millionth time to mindlessly scroll another social media feed. being poor villains sucked.

"shut up bitch." he said back. not loud, not a shout, not even angry. a common phrase told to you, by everyone in here including your boyfriend. you couldn't even roll your eyes anymore.

"you'll always be just barely good, tomu. you know that?" you moved your eyes to his form, hunched over grossly at his cheap desk. duct tape wrapped around the arm rests, his leg bouncing, trash surrounding him. "so i don't get what's the point in you playing so much."

"better than being with you, that's what."

you scoffed. "fuck you."

"i'll fuck you up after this game."

shigaraki was right. he wasn't shy to beat you every now and then, every so often, every chance he got. bruising your wrists and throat, slapping you raw, choking you unconscious, slashing your thighs or upper body while holding you down with his weight.

"i'll kill you." you spat before wrapping up in the blanket. that wasn't to say you didn't get your fair share either, screwing with him emotionally was your form of revenge. he was physical, and you were mean. "and then you can face the family you murdered once and for all."

he only sighed, a last glance catching him shaking his head. whatever. you were going to look at the much more attractive people on tiktok. you wish you were as pretty and skinny as all these girls, but shigaraki doesn't fail to mention how disgusting you are with all the scarring and how he's ruined you for anyone else. he tells you to leave all the time, even kicks you out in the streets, only for you to come back a few hours later with teary eyes and a regretful grimace. he mocks you all the time for it and does a stupid voice impression that could only be you.

because of this, you starve yourself. starve for him, for shigaraki tomura. you feel serene and feminine and beautiful when he brushes along your ribs. when he wraps his fingers around your wrist and slowly trails up your arm to your elbow, squishing the bit of upper arm fat. "you need to get rid of this too." he would whisper, a pinky dangerously close to your flesh.

you nod weakly, placing a hand on top of his. "i'm trying... it's been two days since i've ate, you know."

he smiles. a forehead kiss. "let's make it three."

he wasn't entirely cruel. he would inadvertently starve with you, staying up for days playing video games or go on long trips with only a few granola bars or juice packs. but even when he did eat, there would be no difference. he knew that too, flaunting his warm pizza in your face and chewing disgustingly loud. guzzling down soda. eating chocolate or other sweets. your eye twitched, suddenly opening the side table and pulling out a special box.

"oh!" shigaraki exclaimed with a mouthful of disgusting food.

you opened it up, taking out your designated box cutter, fit with cute stickers and pink tape barely holding it together. you guys get rough sometimes, and sometimes things break.

with clenched teeth and teary eyes you dug the blade into your wrist. dragging- slowly, slowly. then ripped it away from you, causing a deep gash and the white layer of skin breaking through, seeping blood. a small moan escaped your lips. shigaraki swiveled around in his chair to watch you move down the small open spaces on your arm, leaning forward everytime you made a pained noise. flicking his wide eyes over when you started rummaging around the box for the small rag.

he stood up and grabbed your arm before you could wipe it all away. all the precious blood, from inside you, warm and wet and delicious.

"i'll clean it for you." he said ever so softly. your lips wavered as he ran his tongue from the inside of your elbow slowly down your forearm, lapping it all up. you told him to clean his mouth before moving up to the fresh wounds, you didn't want all that gross food grease and fat particles getting into your blood stream.

he continued licking, using his thumbs to spread open the bigger ones, making you wince. "you're so cute." he grinned, fingertip dragging lightly down the slits.

"ah, you're so dirty... and gross..." your arm felt weak, body shaking. but it felt so good. another moan, louder, as he squeezed your skin together to make the blood come out again. he kissed you, irony and with adoration.

"do it to me." he panted between sloppy kisses, occupied with palming himself through his pj pants and holding up your arm. you did as told, rolling up his sleeves for him and pushing him back on the bed. a moment to appreciate his pale and bony arms, purple and blue branches of veins scattering all over and god you wanted him to bleed out.

a shiver of excitement shot through his back as the tip of the blade pierced skin. a slight twitch of his hips when you started to slowly move- a shaky moan and eyes to the back of the head when the familiar sting and pain formed at the base of his wrist.

"you have such pretty veins, tomu... i wanna pull them out. think i could pull them out? i'm sure overhaul could put you back together." you whispered into his ear, slashing a couple more times. he grinded into you, holding the small of your back. his fingers felt up your protruding spine, making you arch into him more.

"what else?"

"i want to kill myself, for you, tomu." you kissed his jaw. "maybe i'd kill you first, then myself."

"you wanna leave me that bad?" he gripped your hip, thumbing the bone and holding it in his hand. you shook your head, bringing his wrist to your lips, reddening them with his own blood. you rolled your hips against his, flicking your tongue against his cuts.

"i wanna bring you with me, to whatever hell we'll end up in."

"god you're edgy, huh. give me that."

he got on top of you now, pulling up your shirt and ordering you to hold it. you twitched as he started carving into the skin of your stomach and the space between your ribs. you could feel the familiar shape of a heart, right on your chest. he groped your tits, then smacked you across the face. then again. and again. and again, until you finally let out that sweet sob he wanted to hear.

"keep crying," he gripped your jaw, turning your head around forcefully. he lifted it up, placing the box cutter against your throat. "don't move, or else i'll end up killing you. or do, doesn't matter to me."

you whimpered pathetically as he did a quick slice on your throat, not deep enough to potentially put you in danger, but enough to bleed. if there wasn't any blood, it wasn't worth it. so you kept crying. he cut you all over, frail skin even more ruined now. just how he liked you.

"you know you're never gonna leave, right?" shigaraki sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping up his arms. you were panting next to him, bleeding into the sheets. your body felt numb and lifeless and like nothing else mattered except him. nothing did, actually.

"don't leave me, tomu!" you cried out when you felt the bed shift with him standing up. he laughed.

"i won't."

#shigaraki tomura/reader #shigaraki/reader #tw.abuse #tw.enabling #tw.ed #shigaraki tomura dark fic #tw.self harm

[miekasa]

the intimacy of prince!levi tending to/patching up the wounds of knight!reader after reader gets back from an expedition (ft. levi's usual stern but affectionate chastising and lecturing)

Oh the intimacy of having someone take care of you... of putting you back together... far too much... I was gonna offer you a traditional, “Don’t be so reckless next time,”—translation: don’t leave me next time—scene, but instead I offer you this excerpt from that prince fic I’ll never complete teehee.

cw: mentioned/descriptions of blood and injury

It takes two weeks for you to be able to leave your bed, outside of essential trips to the bathroom, after regaining consciousness. It feels slow and agonizing, even with your catalyzed healing abilities, but Moblit applauds you and reassures you that your recovery is incredible, and escalating far more quickly than anyone could have hoped for.

The shallower cuts have healed by now, leaving only scars and stained skin in their wake. The deeper gashes along your sides, arms, and ankle remain wrapped and careful monitored by Moblit and the other nurses; as do your stab wounds and the burns on your right arm—it’s wrapped from shoulder to wrist, the bandages extending around your pinky and fourth fingers that were heavily sprained. 

Your bedside attire consists of open-back cotton gowns and loose, but elegant robes that allow your nurses easy access to your wounds. But, to venture downstairs for dinner, you would need to find something more sightly to wear. Your standard uniform was out of the question, and to your knowledge, out of commission; and even if it were to be pieced together and polished, something as routine as strapping your armor to your suit would bear a significant burden in your current state. Even more casual attire expected of the knights would be difficult to wear—pants and thick shirts would only serve as invitation to chaffing, and further irritation to your wounds.  

You don’t own many gowns outside of those provided for surgical ease or for formal events. A skirt might be the solution to the bottom half of the equation, but finding a matching blouse that you could fix to button up with your six working fingers posed another challenge. With a sigh, you carefully close the drawer shut, and take a seat in front of your vanity. You understood the risks of your actions, and that recovering from your injuries would be gradual and frustrating, but you hadn’t anticipated your difficulties would start with your clothes. 

Luckily, you were blessed with people who had anticipated this. Isabel comes by with Farlan and Eren in tow, maneuvering handfuls of dresses into your closet. The princess informs you that she and her mother have sent your measurements to the tailor to have more made for you—along with a variety of loose shirts, skirts, pants, and undergarments. 

She refuses to accept your protests for any further special treatment, busy with ordering the boys about to make room in your boudoir for more slippers and robes—only allowing them to rest when she deems their work satisfactory. “We’ll leave you to change! Eren’s got some boring papers to read, and I’m making Farlan go riding with me before the table gets set, but Armin should be heading over here soon to help you get downstairs,” Isabel exclaims, clapping her hands together, “I’m so happy you feel well enough to come to dinner. I missed having you at the table.”  

You thank her and the boys again before they exit, waiting until the door is shut behind them to take ginger steps towards your wardrobe. You’re aware that your armor is costly, but there’s an undeniable luxury about the garments gifted to you that outweighs the bronze and gold you’re accustomed to wearing. Your uniform is hard, resistant, tough; these gowns are soft, light, and smooth to the touch. They are not gifted without thought—non-irritable fabrics with little or no buttons, at most, a single zipper that even your limited grasp can handle.  

Carefully, you select a dark blue piece from the crowd: a silk slip that slides over your skin and falls at your heel, with delicate lace trimming around the neckline and wrists. The fabric is light on your shoulders, but weighs heavy on your mind; this is one of the Queen’s gowns, and although Kuchel has always been more than kind and welcoming to you, you can’t help but to be reminded of her status when adorning one of her dresses. You figure the least you could do to honor the material is to wear it the way it was intended to be styled, so you reach your dresser to find an appropriate corset.  

You settle for a white one with a softer skeleton that you figure won’t sit too uncomfortably on your wounded torso. Fitting it around your waist proves to be the easiest part; attempting to lace it and position it properly is where your limited mobility and strained muscles are highlighted.  

You must spend at least ten minutes trying to fix the damn fabric on your body—hissing when you move too sharply, cursing when you lose grip of the laces, huffing when your arms grow tired. So, when you hear a gentle knock after your fifth attempt at stitching your corset, you’re relived—believing it to be Armin, you call for him to enter, “I’m glad you came. I think the stairs should be fine, but I need your help with—” 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing.”  

The voice is dark, heavy, and cuts through your pleas with that question, phrased like a declaration. You needn’t turn to confirm your suspicions; and Levi’s eyes are steely and scrutinizing in the reflection of your mirror.  

You choose to blame your hesitance on your injured state, unable to react normally as you continue to watch him in the mirror as he takes strides towards you. Levi pushes your hand away from the laces of the corset, holding the offending fabric between rough fingers and questions you through the mirror, despite his proximity, “You were stabbed in the side twice and you think to put on a corset?”  

He holds eye contact, even as he unlaces your hard work between every word. You part your lips to protest, never minding Levi squinting at you. “The dress is typically worn with one, though I suppose you’re right—a waistcoat would have proven to be easier.”  

“I was not insinuating that you need something in place of this,” Levi says, setting the corset onto the bench once it’s off your body. You know that; he presses anyway, carefully reaching to your side to adjust twisted fabric before holding your gaze in the mirror once more, “It’s fine on its own.”  

You don't dare to protest again; any excuses becoming meek in your mouth as you hold Levi’s gaze—unwavering and headfast with room for gentle affection. It's a look his mastered well, you think, considering how often he throws it your way.

A protest will fall on deaf ears; an alibi cut with a silver tongue. So, instead, you offer the truth: “I wish not to draw attention to myself.”

Levi squints again, barely, but you catch it—not scrutinizing this time; wary, almost, of what you’re not sure. You don’t question him, even as he breaks eye contact to look at your right wrist, carefully raising it between his fingers, “Then don’t get blood on your sleeve.”  

Your eyebrows pinch together before you look down and see red seeping through the bandages around your wrist and palm. You curse under your breath, realizing you must have reopened a tender gash with repetitive movements. You part your lips again to speak, but Levi does so first: “It’s old, anyway,” he says, “Moblit didn’t change it yesterday. Sit, I’ll fetch more.”  

“You don’t need to, I can—”  

“You can wrap your own bandage with your non-dominant hand that has two splinted fingers,” Another question delivered as a statement, followed by a command this time, “Sit. I’ll get more.”  

You nod shallowly, and carefully resume your seated position, noting the way Levi watches you again through the mirror; only when your sat completely does he turn to bedroom to retrieve more bandages—almost out of sight before he turns around, walks back, and grabs the corset to take with him.  

You laugh—genuinely, for the first time in a long time when the prince turns his back to exit your boudoir again. “That wasn’t necessary,” you taunt, laughter still seeping through your syllables.  

“You’re stubborn,” you hear Levi hum, before he turns his head to look back to you in the mirror. “I know you.” 

His words prompt further laughter from you, and he turns his head before you can see the gentle smile that graces his face.

“You think so?” you question, watching his back in the mirror as he pauses just under the door frame. You watch how gently his hair moves when he nods, not sparing you a glance this time when he speaks, “I know you very well.”

#anonymous #the more asks i get about my graveyard fica #*fics #the more im like wait i kinda liked this LMFAOOOOO #i cut out some stuff in the middle bc it related to Plot that doesnt make sense without context but hehehehe #levi my most beloved... oh when ur the knight who gets injured and your prince assumes the role your caretaker now..... enough #levi x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader

[discodeviant]

HARRINGROVE WEEK, DAY 1: Nineteen | Teen | 2k

Gift Wrapped: Two Tickets to a Baseball Game

Flavor Combos: Spring Break & Roommates 

Specific Dialogue: “Did you keep the receipt?”

I want to preface this by saying that none of my fics for this will follow a coherent timeline lol, so his 30th birthday (spoiler teehee) isn't him turning 30 in this fic's universe etc etc. Please enjoy 💖 !!

Read on AO3 @harringroveweek

“Hey.”

It was a week before spring break. Billy lay on his side of the room, on his bed with a book on his chest, window shut tight to save him an awful allergy attack. He didn’t tell Steve that his birthday was in three weeks; that was something Steve learned by chance (or berating it out of his sister when she visited for Christmas, but the details didn’t matter). He also didn’t tell Steve that he’d been keeping close tabs on the Indiana Imps game since it was announced in October, but there was a day when he left the radio on in the shower, Steve returned a little earlier than expected, and, well…

Steve watched the expectant, if confused, eyebrow lift behind Billy’s book, and trailed over a t-shirt, to shorts, to bare feet before he found sky-grey looking at him too. “Hey,” Billy said, and suddenly the monologue all but melted out of Steve’s memory entirely. “You gonna close the door or what?”

“Oh—“ Steve stepped forward and pushed it closed with his back, still hiding his hands as his face and neck pricked with heat. “Uh, so… you’re… still going on that spring break thing, right?” It was a trip organized by the debate team, which Billy had been a member of since the new semester.

“Planning on it, yeah. Why, you gonna miss me?” He chuckled and focused back on his book, folding his legs under the covers.

Steve rolled his eyes. Flatly, he said, “Yes, because I am in such agony thinking about being away from you for a week.” Billy laughed so hard that he snorted, and Steve wished it wasn’t a lie. He wished that getting stuck with Billy Hargrove in August meant arguing so much that one of them forced the other to move out, but they’d actually gotten along. High school was over, they both ended up at Purdue because rich parents and scholarships were useful sometimes, and they were friends, much to Steve’s dismay. He’d wanted more since Halloween of senior year, but more never came.

“Shut up, man. Yes, I’m going. Why?”

“How early do you have to be up?”

“Uh… I don’t know. Seven, eight?” Finally, he looked up, laid the book on his chest, and gave Steve his full attention. “I will do my best to let you have your beauty sleep. Is that all?” Steve shook his head; Billy frowned. “Then what?” he asked, and the answer came as two slips of paper in Steve’s hand that he couldn’t read. “What’s that?”

“… Happy birthday?”

Billy’s shoulders shrunk into the pillows. “It’s not my birthday.”

Steve shrugged. “Close enough. Do you wanna go to the game or not, because I can just—“

“What—what game?” Billy asked, and he was up on his feet in an instant, grabbing the paper from Steve’s hand to see that they were two tickets for the Imps game on the twelfth. “What the fuck, Harrington? Where’d you—did you just get these now?”

“Maybe.”

“Are you for real? How did you even—… how much were they?”

“Why’s that matter?”

“I’ll pay you back!”

“No, you’re not paying me back, dumbass. It’s your birthday.”

“It’s not my birthday.”

“Early gift.”

“Did you keep the receipt?”

“No, I didn’t keep the receipt! What’s the matter with you?”

“Steve—“

“Billy.”

Both of their hands were in a stale mate, each holding the tickets while one trembled a little more than the other. Steve looked down into Billy’s eyes, unable to decipher sadness from disbelief. “You’re serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious. Jesus. Have you never gotten a damn birthday present?”

“Not—“ Steve regretted the question as soon as Billy’s shoulders slumped down with a huff and rolling eyes. “Not, like, fuckin’ expensive ones.”

Steve let go then, letting Billy gloss over them in full. “Well… I thought it’d be fun. I don’t know.”

“Shit, these seats are insane too.”

“I’d hope so,” he said, and Billy looked up for a moment before wrapping him in a hug that he’d have leaned into forever if it wasn’t so awkward when it was over.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem, man.”

Game night came and went in a flash, mostly because Steve stopped following baseball in middle school, and because his focus was on Billy the whole time. Billy, who stared blank-faced on the way home; who didn’t say a word when the game was over; who stiffened and stuttered and reddened like a beet when the stadium focused the camera on the girl next to him. Straight Barbie-blonde hair, shimmering lip gloss, the focus of the Imps’ kiss cam before it panned over to Billy laughing smugly at the attention.

Steve didn’t know what came over him, whether it was jealousy or the prodding worry that it was now or never, but the impulsion that used to get him in so much trouble won yet again. He pulled Billy towards himself by the sleeve, put a hand on the back of California curls, and yanked him in for a kiss—because if Billy Hargrove was going to kiss anybody at a damn Imps game, it wasn’t gonna be some hussy he’d never seen in his life. It wasn’t gonna be a stranger.

What got Steve more than the wild screaming around them at the stadium, more than the announcer laughing along, more than his own courage then, was that Billy kissed him back. It was short and hard, full of adrenaline and beer and overpriced hot dogs and grape soda, but he did. Steve melted at the other tongue suddenly in his mouth like it was testing the waters before retreating again. Like it wasn’t sure, like Steve would bite it off and swallow it with Billy’s pride.

It was nearing one in the morning when they made it back to their dorm, and Steve kicked his shoes off before Billy asked, “Why—why’d you do that?”

“Hm? Do what?” Oblivious as always, Steve bent down to straighten his shoes against the wall the way Billy liked to keep them. “Better?”

“No, I—the—the camera, I mean, you didn’t—don’t—“ Billy inhaled, sharp and hard through his nose, then recollected himself. “That was just for the camera, right?”

Steve froze and looked back with panic. “Right,” he said, too fast, too loud. “Yeah, it—yeah.” Too humored.

“Mm.”

And he dressed down some more, changing his sweater out for a tank top, jeans for shorts, new socks to sleep in because he was a freak, supposedly. Billy, though, he stayed by the door, stiff as a board, hands in his pockets and staring at the floor. Steve recognized the way he chewed his lip the same way he’d chew on the butt of a cigarette. Waiting, grinding, thinking.

Steve then said, “Kind of,” and Billy looked up. “I mean, I don’t know.”

“I—Steve…”

“Should I not have?”

“No, it’s—“ Billy whispered now. “Not that.”

Steve’s heart was in his throat, trying to tumble out and hide at the same time because it wanted Billy just as much as Steve did, and he might have held his breath a little too long. “Then what?”

Billy turned around to put his stuff down, pieces of memorabilia that Steve also insisted on buying for him. “Nothing, never mind.” But Steve was right back next to him, tugging the sleeve of the jacket he wore because Indiana spring was still too cold at night. Billy faced him, still not making eye contact. Steve wished he would, but the momentary focus was enough. He didn’t want Billy to run away—not now, not ever, and certainly not because he backed out too soon. “Steve—“

“It was for me, okay?” he said at last. Soft, gentle, lacking most of the confidence that he had just a few hours before. Now what remained was the memory that Billy didn’t jerk away. Billy didn’t get angry or yell or hit him or spit the taste of his mouth back out onto his shoe. He may have in high school if Steve pulled the same stunt. But not then, not two weeks before his nineteenth birthday, not when he’d been fine, when he’d been away. Not when Steve made him feel safe. “It was for me.”

Steve crowded him between the door and the desk without realizing how close he’d gotten. Both hands rested on Billy’s lapels, fiddled with the buttons down his chest. He continued: “Look, man, I just—I’ve wanted to do that for a really long time.” He whispered a burning breath between their noses, black cherry slushy still on his tongue. “I just—you know, the camera, and it was on you and that chick, and—“

“Didn’t take you for the jealous type, Harrington,” Billy said, a weak smile on his lips that made Steve smile wider.

“Well, maybe I am the jealous type, Hargrove.” They both laughed small huffs that brought them even closer, and Billy met Steve’s eyes. There went his guard in pieces on the floor, the last shell of King Steve having all but disintegrated. “Can I do it right this time?” His finger dragged along Billy’s jaw, down to his chin, a thumb just a breath away from an anticipating lip. He’d have missed Billy’s nod if he blinked, but his eyes were wide open until they closed again when he leaned in.

Their kiss this time was gradual and careful, treading a sheet of ice that may have been thicker than he thought it could be. Billy slacked underneath him, a hand finding the hem of his shirt, barely touching his side before it pressed a little harder. Now he could savor Billy for everything he was. Strong and divine but soft in places he couldn’t control—his hands, his lips, his heart that Steve felt against his own and knew he’d never stop craving.

His toes pressed against Billy’s boots, unafraid of being stepped on because Billy was careful too. Though pliant, he remained strong in the grip on the back of Steve’s shirt. They shared smoky fruit and spearmint, deep sea cologne and sandalwood. Foreheads pressed against one another after a long minute, maybe two, and Billy sighed; they were both out of breath already.

Steve ran his fingers through Billy’s hair as they fell onto each other’s shoulders and embraced against the door. “Get comfy and come lay down with me.”

Billy asked, “Do you mean lay down or lay down?” and Steve laughed, then shrugged.

“Whatever you want.”

Smiling—“Yeah, alright”—Billy brushed his nose against Steve’s again, asking for another kiss, and Steve gave him just that. Shorter this time but just as sweet, and it was so cold when he let go, but it would be warm again.

So they both got ready for bed; Billy dressed down to briefs and a t-shirt, then took the other half of Steve’s twin. They kissed once and kissed some more, deeper with every breath and rut against each other. Two handjobs later—one drawn out until Billy had to beg—and it was three o’clock. Steve massaged his head, falling asleep in the comfort of Billy’s arms and fingers drawing scribbles on his back. Billy yawned into Steve’s neck, naked against his thigh and toeing those damn socks. “You’re still weird for that.”

“Shut up, my toes get cold.”

“But your dick doesn’t?”

“Mm, not with you to warm it up,” Steve said, shifting so his weight was on Billy.

Billy laughed. “Shut up.” Kissed him again, languid and worn out from the hours of excitement.

With another scratch to Billy’s scalp, Steve said, “Come on, go to sleep. You still gotta be up early.”

He groaned. “For what.”

“Your debate trip, dickhead.”

“Fuck debate,” Billy said, pulling his arms up to hold Steve around his shoulders. “And fuck you if you think I’m going anywhere.”

“Why, would you miss me?”

“You know what, fuck you anyway.”

“Save that for tomorrow.”

“If only you’d be so lucky.”

“I think I’ve got a pretty good chance.”

“Mm…” Billy yawned. “Maybe.” Steve kissed him again, and before they fell asleep: “Thanks for taking me to the game.”

“I’m glad you had a good time.”

“Me too,” he said, wiggling under Steve’s weight until they settled more comfortably. Steve kissed his neck and shoulder and forehead and cheek, then lips one last time before laying down on his chest.

“Goodnight, Billy.”

“Night, Stevie.”

#harringroveweek #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #steve x billy #one shot #fanfic #.discowrites #ao3

[steelycunt]

Hey! I'd love to see number 16 from the prompt game 🥰

hello!! this was fun teehee probably came easiest of them all so far even if its a little simple...good day at the let s punch people headquarters xx

Hangnail on his left index. Remus fights the urge to bite at it by shoving his hand beneath his thigh and it works, sort of. “You’re meant to tip your head forward,” he mutters. “Not backward. The blood isn’t going to—to just go back in.”

Sirius’ eyes flit in his direction; the rest of him stays as is, head thrown back to face the high Hospital Wing ceiling, bloody rag clutched to his nose. The pale skin of his throat, the curve of his Adam’s Apple, slick smear of red down his chin. His shirt, ruined. “I’m pretty sure they say to tilt it back,” he replies, half-crushed into the wad of fabric.

“Well, they’re wrong. And I daresay I’ve had more experience with broken noses that whoever they are.” Sirius’ thigh is pressing into his, they're creasing the starched white hospital bedsheets they're sitting on. “Don’t swallow your own blood, you pillock. For god’s sake, tip your head forward.”

“Oh, god, if it means you’ll shut up—” Sirius swings his face down, “happy now? Fucking hell. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were looking to pick a fight with me. And, as you can see—” a wave of his rag-hand, his blood-stained grin, his busted lip, he’s made such a mess of himself for no reason at all, “—someone’s gone and beat you to it, today. Try again tomorrow, and I’ll see if I can fit you in.”

Remus frowns. His hand is getting clammy, and now he’s thinking about the hangnail again. “I don’t know why you’re making jokes. It wasn’t funny at all. I hated it.”

“Well, that’s nice to hear,” Sirius drawls. “My boyfriend hated the bit where a bloke punched me in the face.” He knocks their elbows together. “See, I knew you were the one.”

“I mean it, Sirius. You should’ve just let it be. As if I care what some stupid prat has to say about my blood status—”

“No. No, don’t fucking start, not right now. I care, alright? I do. No one fucking—talks about you, like that, Moony. No one calls you that and just gets away with it. Fucking prick. I’ll fucking kill him. I’ll fucking knock the rest of his teeth out, next time around. Try and stop me.”

Remus watches his jaw work, the muscle ticking away. He looks like he wants to bite something, someone. A strand of hair, plastered to the blood on his cheek. Sirius, his prize-fighter. Sirius, his torn-up boy-saint. His sweetheart, really. Strained leash and snapping jaw.

He untucks his hand and folds two of his fingers over the pinkie of Sirius’ free hand; he’s careful not to graze the raw, scuffed skin of his knuckles. He squeezes.

“Could’ve been worse. I’d rather be called a dirty fucking half-blood than a dirty fucking half-breed. Does it still hurt?”

Sirius shrugs. “Not much. It’s sort of throbbing, a bit. I just hope Pomfrey can set it right again.” He takes the rag away, presents the crooked jerk of his nose, the black gash along the bridge. “Do you still fancy me even now I’m not pretty?”

Remus chews his lip, pretends think it over. “'Spose so,” he decides. “Dunno why.”

#i dont know whether or not he won the fight. thats for you to decide you can spin it however you like xx #i hate him soooo much until he starts fighting people. then i am all over it im whooping and cheering i have his name written on a #cardboard sign in glitter glue im incorporating his name into cheerleader chants. i love him soo much when he throws a punch #r/s #my fic #ridi drabbles

[sukacheri]

Academic Integrity [AO3 or Keep Reading below]

Hinakasa | 5k words

Tsukasa Suou is a first-year student in law school striving to graduate at the top of his class. Hinata Aoi is his tutor.

a/n: the AO3 version uses a work skin for a texting feature; the tumblr version is free of that if the AO3 ver isnt working for you! i hope you all enjoy this, i brainrotted a lot

Today, 4:49 PM

Tsukasa: Are you available tonight? Urgent.

Hinata: hmm finals szn is pretty busy for me ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

Hinata: maybeeee for a good offer i can see if i can swing by

Tsukasa: How are you even busy? There’s no exams tonight

Hinata: i still gotta read the textbooks! lots of last minute clients looking to bump their grade up a letter

Hinata: if ur that hard pressed about it, then ill just take it for you

Hinata: teehee

Tsukasa: I’m not last minute and we have an existing agreement. One that does not involve academic dishonesty, so don’t even joke about it.

Tsukasa: I expect you here at 6pm.

Hinata: whoaaa tsukasa-kun’s ordering me around what am i gonna do

Hinata: not show up i guess

Hinata: (*≧ω≦*)

Tsukasa: I’m ordering in dinner. What do you want.

Hinata: (´ ω `♡) my hero~

Hinata: place an order at that ramen place i dragged you to a few weeks ago. if you remember what i got then ill help you cram tonight

Hinata: get the good spot in the library!

Tsukasa: Actually I have some reservations about that. I’d rather not be seen in public with you. Especially right now

Hinata: our forbidden love! hiding our courtship is so cruel… unless…? my prince is shy~?

Hinata: or maybe… you just want to get me to your place… i see i see… tsukasakun is so sly. you wont pass your exams if you youre too focused on flirting

Tsukasa: Shupt up

Tsukasa: Shut up.

Tsukasa: Just come over alright? I’ll text you my address and order the food.

Hinata: yessir (`･ω･´)ゞ

Tsukasa did not get visitors to his apartment. There had been a total of two people in it, one of which being himself. Even his own parents hadn’t come to visit, but Tsukasa hadn’t expected them to; the Suous had higher priorities than seeing their son moved in, especially when at this point it was for law school and Tsukasa was a grown twenty three years old.

The other visitor had been his nosy neighbor who insisted on poking her head in whenever she got the chance, but Arashi meant well so it didn’t bother Tsukasa that much. She frequently commented with much amusement about the giant textbooks Tsukasa lugged around, saying he was starting to look as if he may be building muscles after all this time.

Guests were unexplored territory for him, and especially with only a one hour notice (his own fault, he knows), the uncertainty clouded over him about the state of his apartment. Tsukasa was a clean person so by habit there was no trash or dishes out, everything put away once used, but he frowned at the state of his living room. 

It was boring.

Tsukasa didn’t care about that, but he knew he was asking for scorn from Hinata. The guy did nothing but bring up all these little faults in Tsukasa he never realized he had, or if he did, he at least thought they weren’t noticeable. Each and every time they met, Hinata would point out anything and somehow relate it back to how Tsuksa was so rigid or uptight.

The living room, where he was planning their study session to be, was empty of anything except basic furniture. A couch, a coffee table, an ottoman. Not even a TV.

Hinata struck him as a cozy person, someone surrounded by blankets and throw pillows, with an assortment of trinkets and decor on a warm wooden coffee table. And Tsukasa did not own a single blanket or pillow, and self consciousness began to rival the grip his test anxiety kept him in all day, tempting him to go drag the comforter off his bed and try to pass it off as a throw blanket.

He considered it more than he should have, until his phone started buzzing in his pocket bringing him out of his thoughts.

Today, 5:25 PM

Hinata: oooo tsukasakun you did remember my order!

Hinata: im so touched!

Hinata: ill stay over if you wanna cram that much ⸜(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)⸝

Tsukasa looked at his non-blanketed couch and clicked his tongue.

Tsukasa: If you are able to, I would appreciate it. I understand it is last minute though.

Hinata: nope! no take backsies! im on my way!!!!!

Hinata: about 15 minutes i think!

Hinata: ε===(っ≧ω≦)っ

Tsukasa: Is this one… farting?

Hinata: NO!!!!!

Hinata: (ಥ﹏ಥ)

Tsukasa: I do not like that one.

Okay, fifteen minutes to find a solution to the blanket problem. Except Tsukasa knew for a fact there were no stupid throw blankets anywhere in his apartment. Why did blankets matter so much? They were blankets. But if Hinata was going to stay over to help Tsukasa, then he had a duty to make sure it was comfortable for him.

Tsukasa stepped into the hallway outside of his apartment, hoping and praying that Arashi was staying in tonight and wouldn’t think it was too weird what he was asking for. He walked to the door directly across from him and knocked.

No response.

Oh, please Narukami-senpai, Tsukasa thought while knocking again. Tonight of all nights when I need you to stick your nose into my business and you’re not here.

Again, no response. The doom of Hinata approaching by the second sent a jolt of anxiety on top of his already existing mountain of it through him. He knocked again, a bit harder than he meant to.

The hallway was quiet, and Tsukasa didn’t hear any movement from behind Arashi’s door. He sighed and turned to return to his own apartment, but caught the eyes of someone peeking out from the door to the left of his.

“Nacchan’s not here. Usually someone only needs to knock once to realize that,” Ritsu said lazily, looking at Tsukasa with sleepy eyes.

“I apologize if I woke you up from a nap, Ritsu-senpai. I needed to ask her a favor, but if she’s not here, then I’ll figure something else out.”

“Mmm,” Ritsu hummed. “What do you need? If Nacchan finds out I didn’t help the poor guy she treats like a stay kitten, then she’ll have my neck.”

Tsukasa squinted. “I am not a stray cat. And she doesn’t treat me—” he paused, taking a breath and remembering the task at hand. “I need some blankets. Throw blankets. I’m having company over and I don’t really have anything, and I’d hate to be a bad host.”

“Aw, so caring as always, Suuchan. You do know Nacchan is strong enough to carry her own groceries, right? If you help her, you should help me too.” 

“If I say yes, will you give me blankets?”

Ritsu waved a hand. “Forget it, I can’t put your poor soul through waking up at 3 AM for my shopping hours just to help me carry my junk food up the stairs. I’ll go get you your blankets, wait here.”

Relief flooded through Tsukasa as Ritsu went into his apartment, and he couldn’t be more thankful that Arashi had dragged him over for dinner when he first moved in. He appreciated his brief interactions with Ritsu and Arashi, and if his schoolwork weren’t so vigorous he’d liked to be closer with them. Maybe if Hinata’s help scored him high enough on his finals, he could see about having another dinner with them.

“Here you are, Suuchan.” Ritsu returned, at least four different blankets stacked on top of each other. “You’re getting my rejects, but just know that a reject from me will still be 10x better than anything you’ve used in your entire life.”

Tsukasa was in awe, bowing before accepting the blankets with giddy hands. “Thank you, Ritsu-senpai! I owe you many favors for this. I really will help you carry your groceries if that is what you need of me. You are a lifesaver, and I’m in your debt.

“Relax, it’s nothing. Honestly? Keep them, I don’t use them.” 

“Thank you, I will remember this and repay you.”

Ritsu shrugged. “Well, I do like gifts. Have fun tonight, Suuchan. And try to get some sleep. You won’t last through school if you don’t get plenty of rest.”

“I think you get too much rest, but thank you. Goodnight, Ritsu-senpai.”

Tsukasa returned to his apartment, blankets victoriously held in his arms. He dropped them on the couch, finding himself agreeing with Ritsu’s declaration that his rejects still made for perfectly acceptable blankets to Tsukasa. He was given four, he discovered, as he laid them out on the couch. One of them was noticeably smaller than the others, with detailed fringe around the edges, so Tsukasa put that one over the back of the couch as a decoration. 

Already a vast improvement over the boring blandness this space had been, and Tsukasa buzzed around the couch laying the remaining folded blankets out in different ways. His mind switched through the different options like he was flipping pages in his textbook, trying to find the specific precedent to refute a classmate during a lecture. It’d be easier if there was a clear defined answer, but much like the law, blanket arrangement was an art.

Where he drew trouble was that couldn’t decide on the amount of blankets to leave out. The dark purple fuzzy one he hid inside his broom closet, not finding it to match his theme, and he kept the decorative one where it laid. The last two were the ones giving him grief. 

Tsukasa bit his lip— a bad habit that required him to constantly keep chapstick on hand— as he fretted over his predicament. He struggled to think of what Hinata would tease less, his cheery voice nagging at the back of Tsukasa’s head each time he tried to lay the blankets differently.

Time was slipping away from him. He pulled his phone out to check for any new messages.

His last message was marked as read at 5:27 PM.

Tsukasa sighed. It was 5:40 right now; he may have a few more minutes to figure this out. The current arrangement could be worked upon, perhaps he could have unfold the smooth maroon blanket and put it over the arm of the couch. That felt a bit pretentious though, so instead— something flashed in the bottom of his eyes.

Texting bubbles.

Tsukasa stared at them intently, a weak hope inside him wishing that the other boy was running late. There was still more he had to do before Hinata arrived. He should’ve started tea earlier so it’d be ready by now, and now it would be just another stone on the pile of Tsukasa’s poor hosting skills.

He wasn’t aware he was holding his breath until the bubbles disappeared, no message sent in their place. He looked back up at the couch, a new formation taking shape in his mind, yes, this one would do much nicer. Tsukasa picked up the maroon and was about to fold it back into a square when a sudden knocking struck his door. The blanket fell from his fingers with a jolt as he whipped head to the door.

Surely it was not Hinata. The intercom hadn’t buzzed so how would he have gotten in?

Idiot, Tsukasa thought while walking to the door. Of course the same guy that takes exams for other people can sneak into an apartment building. This was probably even easier than that.

Tsukasa glanced through the peephole, and… nothing was there except an empty hallway. Narrowing his eyes, he opened the door.

“Boo!” Hinata jumped out from the left, orange hair bouncing around his face, framing his bright smile. “Aw, boo. You were expecting that.”

Hinata forewent his glasses, green eyes peering at him without obstruction. Tsukasa remembered him mentioning he only wore them as a disguise anyways, despite the fact Tsukasa had caught him more than once sliding them on as he went digging through his laptop. 

Hinata was dressed warmly for the increasingly colder weather as winter grew closer, his white cable knit sweater hung off of him. The black straps of his heavy backpack contrasted against it, completing a proper academic look, and Tsukasa found it funny how Hinata enjoyed looking to be the part of a typical enthused student so much.

“I’ve put up with you for weeks. You’re not surprising anymore,” Tsukasa scoffed.

“I think it’s been like months now. And all that means is that I have to be more surprising.” Hinata lifted his hand up, showcasing the takeout bag he carried. “Let me in? C’mon I’m starving and I kinda forgot to eat lunch sooo…” 

Tsukasa frowned but stepped aside to let him in. “You should remember to eat, Hinata-kun. You can’t be that busy that you’re forgetting.”

“Geez, judge someone much? I thought you were just being grumpy in your texts, but you really can’t believe that I’m busy. Don’t you realize this is prime time for someone like me? Why, you kids need all the help you can get!”

“I keep telling you I’m older than you.”

Hinata shrugged as he walked inside, setting the bag onto the kitchen counter. The smell hit Tsukasa in a nostalgic wave, the flavors reminding him of dark wooden tables and dim lighting. Of the sweetest yet still savory ramen he’s ever had, and the way Hinata had shook his arms with exclamations of ‘I told you so’. 

“That,’ Tsukasa said, “smells so much better than I remember.”

“I told you it’s the best. You can harp about the fancy ramen you’ve had with your parents all you want, but this is how it’s supposed to be. Nice, warm, and comforting.” Hinata opened the bag and took out his container, popping the lid off with a grin of satisfaction.

“I have some bowls we can use. Better than eating from the plastic.” Tsukasa took two porcelain bowls out from the top shelf of his cabinet, turning to see Hinata staring at him.

“You went on your tiptoes. It’s cute. Y’know, if you need help reaching something then the magic word is please.”

And here we go with the teasing. This guy never stops, Tsukasa thought as he glared at Hinata.

“I can reach everything just fine. You keep thinking you’re all these things I’m not, like how you think you’re older and taller. You have, at maximum, two inches on me. What is it they say? ‘You’re one to talk’?” Tsukasa snapped, placing the bowls on the counter and taking out his own food. “I was going to offer you tea, but now I have half a mind not to. You don’t deserve my tea.”

Hinata widened his eyes in mock hurt, speaking in an exaggerated tone. “Oh, Tsukasa-kun! You wound me! Mar me! Kill me! And two hundred other synonyms I don’t feel like listing out. The humanity! I’m so hurt I… I may just start crying… I don’t… sniff sniff… I don’t think I can help someone so mean…”

Tsukasa huffed and turned away, picking up his kettle to fill it with water. It was hardly for Hinata’s sake. Tsukasa knew he would start needing caffeine now if he ever hoped to get through an entire night of cramming with him, and if he had any hope of staying awake enough to retain his studies.

If only he were the one gifted with a photographic memory.

Tsukasa set the kettle onto the stove to warm up, and pulled out a box of assorted tea bags to leave next to it. He sidestepped past Hinata to fill his own bowl, who was already slurping away at his noodles while somehow conveying an annoying smirk with only his eyes. Irritation lit up under Tsukasa’s skin, and he grabbed his container and poured it into the bowl, moving too fast and causing a series of drops to splash around the counter.

“I’d say something, but I’m more sad than anything. That’s a waste of the most delicious broth in the world,,” Hinata said through a mouth full of food.

“It’s a few drops, it is not the end of the world.”

“Whatever helps you cope. So, are we eating in the kitchen, or? Not that I mind standing. It really puts into perspective those two inches I have over you.”

Tsukasa snatched his bowl and chopsticks, barely repressing a complaint and forcing Hinata’s words to roll off of him like oil on water. Except it felt more like trying to ignore a tick intent on trying to suck at his blood and scrambling all over his body.

“We’ll eat on the couch. I already dragged all the books that we’ll need out of my room.”

“Books that you’ll need.”

Tsukasa stuffed noodles in his mouth so he wouldn’t have to respond.

They sat down on the couch, Hinata dropping his backpack to the ground with a thud while Tsukasa waited for a quip about how his blankets complimented his nerdiness, or how only someone so stuffy as himself would have a decorative one. To Tsukasa’s dismay, Hinata didn’t give any of the blankets a second glance, instead sitting down with his legs criss-crossed on the cushion and focusing entirely on shoveling food into his mouth.

At least that was something Tsukasa could concede on. The ramen was good, the flavors so striking and unique that they kept fighting to drag Tsukasa’s mind back to that first time he ate it. That day, Hinata insisted on meeting at the restaurant despite Tsukasa’s protests that it didn’t exactly seem like a good place to study. And it wasn’t, he felt too awkward to even try bringing out a single stack of flashcards in that atmosphere of dim lighting and quiet, yet ample, background noise that drew one’s mind to a place of calm.

Hinata had forced him to sit down and share a pot of tea with him while they waited for their food. Tsukasa had the beginnings of a cold, and whatever was in that tea soothed his throat so well that whatever had tried to start was sent right out of his system. And once their food arrived, that was when Hinata started grilling him with questions like a human flashcard machine.

It wasn’t the most productive study session they’ve had, but it was Tsukasa’s fondest for some reason.

“So, what’s urgent tonight? You’re my best student.” Hinata paused to slurp more noodles into his mouth. “And aren’t your finals heavy loaded for the last few days? You have extra time.”

“You shouldn’t talk with your mouth full. It’s rude.”

“You shouldn’t avoid questions. It’s rude,” Hinata mimicked him. “And I’m your tutor! So, you gotta answer everything I ask related to your studies. That’s just the rules.”

Tsukasa bit back saying that the rules of common courtesy usurped the rules of informal tutoring agreements. “I’m struggling with property law. Again. I understood everything last week, and I could name all the landmark cases, and all the obscure ones we went over. Then I took a practice quiz this morning and I scored a 91.”

“Good job!”

“Not a good job!” Tsukasa scowled. “That’s one mistake away from an 89. Honestly, 95 is my low bound and I scored four points below that. I don’t have time to look through the book and remember what I’m forgetting.”

Understanding dawned on Hinata’s face and he nodded. “So, you want to bounce your head off of mine to figure out what you’re forgetting. Yeah, okay, I get what you’re saying. Do you think that’s going to take a whole night cramming? Not that I’m trying to get out of it! You bought me dinner and a deals a deal, but… you could have texted me and I would have told you the lists we made, y’know?”

Tsukasa bit his lip, poking the egg in his ramen around while his face grew hot. “If I’m being honest… that thought did not occur to me. I panicked, perhaps, in calling you here so suddenly.”

“I mean, it’s alright. Who doesn’t like getting free food? And I’m also super flattered you remembered my order.” Hinata grinned at him, and Tsukasa felt some of his embarrassment drain away, yet somehow replaced with a different sort of burning in his cheeks.

“I suppose I may have unconsciously had other intentions,” Tsukasa said as Hinata’s green eyes snapped to his with such intensity it nearly gave Tsukasa pause. “It’s always fascinating watching you work. I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, but it’s not like you meet someone like you that often, or ever. I can’t forget the chill I got back when we first met and you started reciting the textbook I was reading with your eyes closed. You’re amazing, and I like witnessing it as much as I can.”

While he talked, Hinata’s eyes lost their intensity and his smile grew in their stead, now stretched wide across his face as he waved his chopsticks around.

“Aw, well, it’s nothing. Lucky genetics and all that. Write some numbers on a piece of paper and flash ‘em to me and I’ll tell you them all. Or whatever other fun tricks you want.”

“Hmm,” Tsukasa hummed. “First 100 digits of pi?”

Hinata rolled his eyes. “That’s way too easy. A dedicated nerd can do that. Anyways, let’s start figuring out what law mumbo jumbo you’re forgetting while we eat, so that once we’re done we can jump right into it.”

Tsukasa agreed, and he started listing all that he remembered in between bites of gradually dwindling food. Hinata was an enthusiastic listener, always giving an indication of acknowledgement to Tsukasa, either nodding his head or his chopsticks, or through a series of ‘yeah’s’ and ‘uh-huh’s’ streaming through his lips. His eyes never regained their earlier intensity, but they also never left Tsukasa’s. 

For anyone else, he was sure the near constant eye contact would be discomforting— Tsukasa himself had the habit of maintaining direct eye contact, but because of that he was used to seeing people shift and look away from him. With Hinata’s unwavering gaze, Tsukasa suspected it was some sort of habit due to his memory. If one was able to remember all the details from a simple conversation, and all you had to do was to make sure you could focus and listen the first time, then you’d make an effort to consistently do that. That was Tsukasa’s theory at least.

They finished their ramen and began studying in earnest, with Tsukasa pulling out his textbooks to cover the near entirety of the coffee table like a tablecloth of legislative finery. Hinata grabbed the maroon blanket from the armrest, settling it across his shoulders like a cloak. The sight of it left a tingle in Tsukasa’s chest, giddy that he did good at making sure his blanket dilemma was solved.

Tsukasa meant what he said, that witnessing Hinata work was something special. He’d recite questions from previous practice tests he assigned Tsukasa, and recall with precise clarity the answer choices and the explanation for the correct one. Hinata could also socratic method circles around Tsukasa, able to ask a question and discuss with him as if playing the role of multiple fellow students, each with their own arguments and viewpoints. The only thing he lacked compared to his classmates was the condescending attitude, and when he tried making a joke about that before to Hinata, the other man smiled and said Tsukasa had the same exact attitude problem.

He did not have a comeback for that one.

A few hours later, as Tsukasa sat on the floor and flipped through a book on rental property law changes in the past five years, he found his mind drifting to a familiar question plaguing his mind. He glanced at Hinata, who had eventually put on his glasses and tied his hair back as he skimmed over some news articles on Tsukasa’s laptop.

Tsukasa clicked his tongue. They were due for a break anyways.

“Hinata-kun.”

Hinata’s eyes stayed on the screen a moment longer, finishing his line on the page, then looked up. “Did you think up an argument for overruling the rental clause we talked about? Bed bugs are serious business, you know.”

“No, it’s not about that. I had a question.”

“Well, usually when someone like you has a question you just ask it.”

“I’m not sure if it will be rude or not.”

The intensity from earlier flared behind Hinata’s eyes, curiosity boring into Tsukasa, as if shaking him to spit it out already.

“Just ask! I’m an open book. Kinda literally if you think about it in a test taking way.”

“Okay,” Tsukasa said. “How come you’re not trying to become a lawyer? You have all the knowledge needed for it, and I’m sure you could pass the bar right now if you wanted to. You could quite literally be the lawyer of the century if you went through the steps of getting the proper qualifications.”

Hinata stared at him, the silence stretching heavy over a few seconds while Tsukasa felt the oncoming reprimands for his nosiness prickling against his skin.

But Hinata just sighed and placed his elbow on the couch to support his head as he looked away. “I’ve already passed the bar. I did that years ago. That’s such a boring question. I thought you were going to ask me something more interesting like what my type is.”

“What the hell do you mean you’ve already passed the bar?” Tsukasa squawked, eyes widening with the new information. “If you did that then why are you wasting your time cheating on exams for law students? You could be in a courtroom right now presenting real cases!”

“Hey, okay, so when I say ‘passed’, I do mean in a more unofficial way. I don’t have a piece of paper or anything, so no courtrooms for me.” Hinata grinned at him, eyes squinting from it. “Besides, the last thing I want to do is be in a courtroom. That’s way too stuffy and boring for me. It’s more fun harassing you about article codes and clauses.”

“I don’t see how digging through papers is the fun part for you. In court is where you can actually present your case and do something else other than read legal briefs for hours at a time.”

Hinata took his glasses off, tapping his finger against the frame as he stared at Tsukasa. “Regardless, I don’t care about being a lawyer. It’s just fun to know things. Y’know, I passed the MCAT in the 99th percentile.”

“Bullshit. Why are you collecting exams like trophies? You are a very sick individual.”

“Such language, Tsukasa-kun. You should be more polite and sweet like me,” Hinata said. “And if it makes you feel any better, I make it my policy not to help med students. I’d kinda rather not have the future medical professionals of our generation be unable to do the work. That’s my geriatric butt in their waiting rooms in the future, so best not to shoot myself in the foot now. You’re welcome.”

Tsukasa narrowed his eyes. “You say that as if releasing a bad lawyer into the world isn’t a bad thing.”

“Ah, now I didn’t say that at all. A guy’s gotta make money somehow, right? And it’s the lesser of two evils, and even you can’t tell me it isn’t.”

“You’re insufferable.” Tsukasa leaned across his textbooks, as if inching closer to Hinata would let him understand the other guy more. “Why not actually go to med school then? I can understand not being a lawyer if you think it’s boring, but as a doctor you would be actively saving peoples lives. It would make a real difference to know mountains of information when trying to diagnose a sickness or disease.”

Hinata continued tapping his glasses, his smile shifting into an inquisitive look. “Tsukasa-kun, do you know the Chinese Room argument?”

Tsukasa’s nose wrinkled. “You could not possibly be comparing yourself to the Chinese Room. That’s a supreme overreach of the argument to try and apply it to yourself.”

“But you knew instantly what I was talking about! It has to have some sort of application, right? Just because I can list off anything about some topic doesn’t really mean I understand any of it. Even now, how do you know if I actually understand law or if it’s just that I’ve read so many practice tests that I can give an output that sounds about right?”

“Because I know you’re smart. You’re clever and witty, and you like shoving it in my face. And it’s not because you’re overcompensating, it’s because you’re good-natured.”

Hinata tilted his head. “Those are conflicting thoughts, aren’t they? I’m good-natured, yet I like shoving my intellect in your face. You make me sound like a meanie.”

“The point is you’re not,” Tsukasa said. He took a breath and met Hinata’s eyes with all his sincerity. “Hinata-kun, you are incredibly kind. I am grateful for all the help you have given me and I owe keeping my sanity during law school to you.”

“Whoa, where’s this coming from?” Hinata’s lips twitched into an uncertain smile. “Just cause we talk philosophy doesn’t mean you have to get sentimental.”

“I thought you would like to hear it.” Tsukasa stood, grabbing his empty tea cup from the coffee table. “I’m making more tea, would you like some?”

“Oh.” Hinata blinked. “Yeah, sure.” He held his cup out to Tsukasa, their fingers brushing in the handoff.

“Same flavor?”

“Yeah, with extra honey if you could.” He slid his glasses back on, diving back into his research on the laptop.

Tsukasa began to walk away, but glanced back at the sound of shuffling on the couch. Hinata was turned towards him, a soft smile on his lips as he spoke.

“Thank you, Tsukasa-kun,” he said earnestly. Tsukasa found himself smiling back until Hinata finished speaking, his soft smile slipping into a mischievous grin.

“For the tea, of course. These rich boy flavors are such a treat.”

I’m never going to win with him, am I? Tsukasa thought as he rolled his eyes and continued onto the kitchen.

He’d indulge Hinata’s teasing and tea requests for now. They still had a long night of studying ahead of them yet.

#ensemble stars fic #enstars fic #hinakasa #hinata aoi #tsukasa suou #law school au!! #hinata has a photographic memory and tutors tsukasa #pining #so much pining its sickening

[blahhhbleh]

Boundaries Post!

This is more so for the future rather than it is for anything else, I don’t exactly think any of this has happened to me personally (not yet a least and hopefully not at all) but I like to cover my ground in salt so I don’t slip on ice later if you catch my drift!

Please always keep in mind this is a kink blog and will probably never stop being that so. Idk if you want more then that I don’t have much to offer I use tumblr for 1 thing and that’s pretty much this.

Small intro, hi there my name is what I’ll say is Auggie for right now I always use He/Him I’m trans and I’m 19 years old until December. I’m a bit of a nerd when it comes to medicine, fandom, etc. if you find this blog and you know me IRL tell me so I can make fun of you for being on this side of Tumblr you most definitely didn’t get here looking at holy imagery. I consider myself pretty blunt, and dry personality wise. I try to make it a little better or easier to understand me but my tone has always been my downfall. Fun facts about me, I’m a nursing student (ironic isn’t it), I’m an artist, and I’ve been a huge theater nerd for years now.

ANYWAYS BOUNDARIES

Don’t misgender me that’s a given if you do uhm I’ll probably just block you. I don’t even sound like a women at this point I’ve been on T for like a year now don’t make yourself look like an idiot.

Racism homophobia, etc isn’t really accepted here. For obvious reasons.

Flirting is acceptable just don’t expect much of a reaction

Im a playful guy if you joke with me I joke in a pretty rough way don’t joke rough if you can’t handle a punch back it’s all in good fun but I don’t like hurting feelings.

Feel free to message me just don’t be creepy im a human at the end of the day and so are you don’t act like a dog.

No asking about personal stuff. I’ll laugh at you I am not giving anyone anything to be able to find me! THIS IS A DIGITAL FOOTPRINT I AM NOT WILLING TO OWN UP TO (unless you are a friend irl in which you can test that on your own.)

Im pretty responsive to anyone so if you are friendly and just looking to chat im always happy to reply. (I think I said this before)

Im autistic I don’t expect special treatment for it but if you see autistic behavior from an autistic person if it’s not negative dont point it out. It’s embarrassing.

IF YOU DONT LIKE HEARING ME RAMBLE FOR 200 YEARS MY PAGE ISNT FOR YOU (im known for my inability to shut the hell up)

I don’t think this will come up but just for good measures I don’t like politics and won’t talk much about them. I’m an anarchist punk 💀 I don’t think you want to talk to me about that so let’s steer clear of that pathway.

Teehee besides that uhm we are pretty chill.

OH IG YEAH IF YOU ARE A MINOR LEAVE WHY ARE YOU HERE 💀🙏 please get the fuck away (in a nice way you don’t need to be here this young be a kiddo please…)

[stayarmytinyzenmoa-l]

hii teehee i just saw ppl asking for this and since im sick of the yangyang drought in here could you pls do ❛ i know how to keep my life and my crown. and i will. ❜ with yangyang?

YANGYANG DROUGHT LMFAOOO real I gotchu anon

[Choose a prompt and send me an idol! I’ll write a drabble for it]

~

"(Y/N)!" Yangyang ran up to you as soon as you'd closed the balcony doors and, likewise, you were quick to pull him into a hug long overdue. "God, I've been so worried about you, Highness," he lets his head fall into the crook of your neck and you held him tighter.

"I missed you too," you gave him one more squeeze before pushing him back at arm's length. "But, look at you! Wow, you really shaped up," you complimented him, though you weren't too used to the new knight's build on him. "Who would've thought two street rats would find their way into a castle, huh?"

"Oh, pardon me, I greet the star of the Empire, their highness the Crown Royal," Yangyang exaggerates his bow and you laughed and rolled your eyes.

"So... why risk your head to come see me?" You ask.

"I need an official reason to see my best friend?" Yangyang asks with a quirked brow. You eyed him suspiciously while his eyes slanted toward the door that was firmly shut and, in a quiet voice, he answered, "you're in danger, (Y/N)."

"Of course I am, huh?" You shook your head.

"The Rebellion, they're targetting you next, you're the last remaining bloodline of the Royal family," he says. All things you already knew. He checked the door again. "The King asked me to take you somewhere far from the kingdom. You have to survive," he says. You shook your head.

"I can take care of myself," you said, but Yangyang didn't look convinced. "I know how to keep my life and my crown. and I will," you said sternly. Yangyang sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't think you do, (Y/N)," he shook his head.

"I do!" You shot back.

"Do you?" He asked again. You nodded your head and Yangyang held your crown in his hand. "You sure about that?" He smiles and you rolled your eyes while slumping your shoulders, not even bothering to feel the space at the top of your head.

"You're insufferable, give that back. How did you even grab it with all the pins?"

"These ones?" Yangyang held the numerous pins in his other hand. "Child's play, (Y/N), even you could do this," he shrugs.

"Dare I ask when you grabbed it?

"You know when," he scoffs. You thought back.

"I thought that hug was a little too tight."

"There you are! The (Y/N) I remember, anyway, we gotta go now."

"Where are we going?"

"Dunno, somewhere far, at least until I get a letter from your rich dad telling me to bring you back," his smile grows and, naturally, you felt much safer. "But, uh, don't tell anyone. This is some top secret stuff, yeah?"

"Got it, I know how this works," you tapped your head with your finger and smiled, trying your best to alleviate the obvious worry Yangyang tried to hide, "see you in a bit?"

"See you in a bit and," Yangyang leans toward you, securing the crown on your head with gentle hands, "be safe," he opens the door and gestures for you to leave first and, once you were gone, he shuts the door and leans against it, covering his face with his hands. Then, as he brought his hands up to brush the hair out of his face, the obvious grin appeared before he brought his hands back down and again the worry was there. Then, he left the room, immediately being stopped by the last person he wanted to see.

"You, there, knight!" Dejun stops him.

"Your Highness," Yangyang greeted him with a bow. Dejun, the prince from a neighboring country and, distastefully, your fiancé.

"Have you seen (Y/N)? I haven't seen them all night and I'm supposed to bring them back with me."

"Nope, haven't seen them all night, sir," he says with a small smile.

"I'll keep looking around, let me or my men know if you find them," he rushes off and Yangyang waits until he's gone before walking off toward your room.

Tag List:

General Tag List: @stopeatread @bat-shark-repellant @raeincitizen @umbralhelwolf @yangsrose @kazooms @sadcoffeecritic 

NCT Tag List: @cherrylovr @minjiville

If you want to be added to either tag list or removed just send me a reply to this post, and ask, or a DM and I’ll add you as soon as possible!

#nct #nct x reader #nct x you #nct x yn #nct u #nct u x reader #nct u x you #nct u x yn #wayv #wayv x reader #wayv x you #wayv x yn #yangyang x reader #yangyang x you #yangyang x yn #my writings

[rainydrops]

I posted 667 times in 2022

That's 173 more posts than 2021!

230 posts created (34%)

437 posts reblogged (66%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@pastelpendant

@consensualdomination

@pins-and-spirals

@hypnepenthe

@rainydrops

I tagged 409 of my posts in 2022

Only 39% of my posts had no tags

#rainy babbles - 107 posts

#penposting - 92 posts

#rainy answers - 60 posts

#rainy talks - 46 posts

#toyposting - 32 posts

#rainys conditioning - 15 posts

#penposting  - 13 posts

#hypnosis - 8 posts

#rainy real - 7 posts

#teehee - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 76 characters

#even if the night ended badly its a beautiful day tomorrow with you in it &lt;3

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

thinking abt the point in trance where ur just too blissed out n distracted that your only response to anything is

“nnghh”

142 notes - Posted January 20, 2022

#4

only trans people can see this post all others will be shot like a farm animal with mad cow disease

302 notes - Posted May 15, 2022

#3

anyone wanna hold me and bombard me with perfectly soft pleasant brainwashing until i cant remember how to talk, let alone think

310 notes - Posted January 11, 2022

#2

Day Two: Blink

She blinked.

“Just waaaatch the crystal. 5 minutes, no looking away, no cheating, and I’ll pay for dinner. Scout’s honor.”

She would roll her eyes, but that would probably count as cheating. So she just stared. This was sort of a stupid bit, now that she had the peace and quiet to think about it. Some moronic stageplay ‘hypnosis’ act. She could put up with the cornier bits, so she didn’t mind. She just couldn’t wrap her mind around how anyone thought this would actually work on someone.

Sure, it was easy on the eyes. It was nice to look at, had a pretty glow to it and about a million sides for her gaze to shift to. The facets all glittered in the sun, shining pretty light everywhere. She could admit it was nice to admire while she breezed through her time.

She blinked.

“There you go. Just watch and relax…”

She resisted the urge to tell them to shut up, but their voice only came to her in a muddied mumble. She was focused on the crystal dangling in front of her now. Had it gotten bigger since she refocused her attention? Or had she just…needed to stare longer..?

No, it seemed bigger since she blinked for sure. Or just closer. It didn’t matter—though her eyes lidded a little to counteract it. She didn’t know how much time had passed. She was pretty relaxed, to be honest.

She blinked. Slower, this time.

The crystal had most definitely dropped lower to her face. It twisted and shone in the pretty light, shining all its pretty colors across the walls, and it…it looked, um…

“…pretty…” she heard herself mumble, jaw slack, as her eyes fluttered slowly. No one else was doing any of the work—“hypnosis” or otherwise. As far as she was concerned, she was doing the heavy lifting. Her eyes, that was. They felt so heavy…and the crystal was drawing even closer, filling up her entire field of vision. It was so much to try and focus on all the glittering sides at once—too much. It was too…much…

Her eyes rolled back.

“…man. Only lasted 2 and a half this time. New record!”

324 notes - Posted November 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

for valentines day can i be your giggly pretty mindless toy, knelt in front of you and helpless to your complete control?

438 notes - Posted February 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

….yeah

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #sounds about right

[endious]

as much as i LOVEEE the idea of being held down and r/ped like that i think i like the concept better as a hypothetical kink scene with a safeword and everything. and i know it’s unrealistic bc we’re talking abt literal killers but..

i want jack to hold me down and breed me no matter how loud i scream, and then pick me up and bring me somewhere safe i can rest and he can patch up the cuts and scratches on my skin.

i wanna feel his claws digging into my throat to shut me up, and then when he’s done i wanna feel his claws running through my hair while he asks if that was good and if i liked it, yk?

oh yeah for sure! i love the idea of being forced to take it all, telling him to stop but he keeps going bcus he doesn’t care abt what you say. but i also like to imagine him picking you up like you’re made of glass and gently cleaning the wounds he littered on your skin. he might enjoy the winces and hisses you make when he cleans the cuts in your body but he also enjoys cleaning you up, it keeps you guessing if he’s a cruel monster or not. falling into a spiral bcus of him and his harsh touches that turn gentle as he carefully holds you with his sharp claws that could easily tear you apart. jack might not understand how you humans emotionally work anymore but maybe he’ll offer a small “are you okay” while stitching up a nasty cut he created earlier, it’s amusing for him to see you move a little closer to him just because he asked about your wellbeing. i loveeee the mind breaking it would cause with any of the killers so i’ll elaborate on two more i enjoy writing

toby loves treating you like youre nothing but a cocksleeve, a walking cumdump for him to use whenever he pleases. it doesnt matter if you say no or “aren’t in the mood” if he wants it he’ll get it. he enjoys how you “hate” him, that fire in your eyes when he’s using your body but when he’s done and decides it’s a rare moment to take care of you— emphasis on care —he is obsessed with the way you falter. your cold expression breaking just the slightest when he kisses the marks and cuts on your skin. a smirk tugging at his lips while brushing a hand over your hair and he knows he has you spinning in a circle trying to guess and understand if he cares about you just the slightest or not. he likes how you lean just a bit into his touch like it wasn’t bruising your soft skin a few minutes ago. slowly you’re molding into the perfect toy for him and all it took was indulging in your silly dream once. give a dog scraps and it’ll come back for more.

jeff is the worse though but maybe i’m being biased rn teehee. he doesn’t care if you literally break while he uses you. it’s for him not you, he’ll laugh and call you stupid if you ever thought he fucked you for your enjoyment. any form of “intimacy” or “aftercare” afterwards is a blessing you may never get. he tugs on your hair a lot while fucking you, probably to the point of nearly ripping it out, and maybe in your dizzy state after he’s finished you’ll feel a cold hand push at your now knotted hair but that’s the only comfort you’ll get. he might even stay the night, a hand wrapped tight around your throat to keep you there not that you could leave regardless. you like to think it’s so he can feel your pulse, that false sense of hope for something better trapping you in a fantasy, leaving you wanting that to be a reality. he’s slowly breaking you down into the perfect doll and all it takes is basic touches that aren’t harmful to your body. it’s enough to make him laugh at how pathetic your standards have dropped but he likes that you’re fighting back less and less, completely washing away the old you until you’re a clean canvas for him to ruin and paint into whatever he desired.

#— cadie answers #— nonnies #im not a ‘soft’ type of writer if u could call it that? LMFAO #so i never elaborate on anything after they use you #usually i dont think its needed. i like the idea of them just taking what they wabt and leaving or taking you with them #but its nice to imagine these sick fucks giving two shits about your wellbeing even if it’s small <3